Soul Screamers, Volume 1

We’d argue about the “young lady” part later. But I agreed with the rest of his statement.

The last thing I saw before sleep—blissful, pain-free sleep—claimed me were their faces, side by side, watching me with identical expressions of concern.





Chapter 21





“Thanks for coming.” Regan smoothed her black dress over her flat stomach. Her perfect blue eyes were red from crying, but her expression was pure strength and poise. Her mother stood beside the coffin, staring past all the headstones in a chemically induced oblivion. She was coping with Addy’s death the only way she knew how—with pills, and alcohol, and seclusion. She hadn’t left her house in nearly a week, and had only come out this time for the funeral. Because Regan made her.

“We wouldn’t have missed it,” Nash said, and I nodded. He spoke for us both.

Regan had made all the arrangements, choosing her sister’s favorite flowers, music, and poetry, as well as the coffin and the plot. It was a lot of responsibility for a thirteen-year-old already devastated by her sister’s death—her sacrifice—and it broke my heart that she’d had to rise to such a tragic occasion.

But she would be fine. The determined line of her jaw and straight length of her spine said that clearly. Whatever else happened, Regan Page would be just fine.

Addy had seen to that.

Regan glanced briefly at her mother, then at the crowd of paparazzi gathered behind a long barricade before returning her attention to me. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine now. Really,” I added, when doubt flickered behind her mercifully real eyes.

The red webbing had faded from my skin by the time the sun went down the day Addy died, but it took three more days before the last of the pain abated. And the puncture marks around my ankle left scars—a double ring of bright red dots. I’d missed school for the rest of that week, but Harmony had only let Nash miss Thursday, and only because we’d been up all of Wednesday night.

And since I was well enough for the funeral, I would be returning to school on Monday.

Addy’s service was private, but Regan got us in. Tod cried through the whole thing, but I think I was the only one who could see him. Addy’s death nearly killed him. Again. Levi had given him a couple of weeks off, and was personally covering his hospital shifts. And we hadn’t seen Tod once between that night and the funeral.

I think he was having a lot of trouble with the knowledge that Addison’s soul was now the property of a hellion of greed, and that the rest of her existence would be spent in agonizing pain, of every possible variety.

I wasn’t dealing with that very well, either. I’d really wanted to save her. And I would have plenty of time to think about my failure, because I was grounded for a solid month. My father was unmoved by our altruistic intentions. He considered nothing else on the face of the planet—or in either world—worth risking my life.

After he said that, I found it pretty hard to complain about being grounded, even though I would only see Nash at school and at bean sidhe lessons.

The only positive thing to come out of the whole mess—other than returning Regan’s soul—was the fact that we were never fingered for the “break in” at Prime Life. Thank goodness. That one would have been impossible to explain to the cops. It was no picnic to explain to my dad, either.

“So, what are you going to do?” I leaned into Nash’s chest for both comfort and warmth.

Regan shrugged and tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “Take care of my mom, I guess. And stay far away from John Dekker.”

I nodded. Regan had done us all proud. In honor of Addison’s sacrifice, she’d already broken her contract with Dekker Media and was pursuing other acting opportunities. Rumor had it the Teen Network—Dekker’s biggest competition—wanted her to do a pilot for them, but she wouldn’t even accept their calls until she’d laid Addison to rest.

The fact that the wolves were already nipping at her heels made me wonder if anyone in the entertainment industry remained in possession of a soul.

As for Dekker Media, as far as I knew, they couldn’t continue to provide souls for Avari without someone to ferry teenage stars to the Netherworld for them. So, for the moment at least, the adolescent population of Hollywood was secure. Though I still got a sick feeling every time I thought of all the soulless victims still waiting to suffer throughout the afterlife at Avari’s hands.

But there was nothing I could do about that.

My dad said I couldn’t save them all, and on my good days, I have to admit that he was right. Eventually, people have to learn to make their own choices, and to deal with the consequences.

Including me.

“I think that’s your dad over there,” Regan said, and I twisted to follow her gaze. Sure enough, my father—more handsome than ever in his dark suit—stood in front of his freshly washed car, waiting patiently for me.