“Charlie!” I yell. “Where are you?” If I can’t find her in time, I want her to at least know someone was looking. “I’m going to find you!” I try to sound like we’re having fun, but I know it’s not working.
I search behind trees and dig through shrubs, but I can’t find her anywhere. Then I hear a sound that makes my breath catch.
Behind me, I see Charlie curled into a ball. She’s leaning against a massive tree, and her arms are wrapped around her knees. I can deal with this, I think. But then she raises her head…and her face is my undoing.
Behind her glasses, her eyes are swollen and red and so filled with hurt that I fear I may actually murder someone. That I will end someone’s life.
Her lips part, and she says only, “They all saw me. But they just kept walking.”
She starts crying again, and I don’t think, I just move. I sweep Charlie into my arms, and I carry her toward the clearing. She lays her head against my chest, and I know I will rip someone’s throat out if they say a single word.
A hush falls over the crowd as I appear with her in my arms. I start to climb the stairs, still carrying her, when I hear Charlie mumble something.
“No,” she says quietly. I try to hold onto her, but she pushes away from me. “No,” she says, louder. “Put me down. Put me down!” Surprised, I place her on her feet. She tugs her dress up and ascends the rest of the stairs, chin held high. I climb behind her, wondering what’s happening. Charlie straightens her back and approaches Taylor. “You knew that would happen.”
Taylor grins.
“Did you tell them to leave me out there?” Charlie continues..
Taylor acts offended. “I would never do that,” she says, shaking her head. “They did that on their own. Such jerks, am I right?”
Charlie flinches. Maybe Taylor didn’t ask the guys to ditch her, but I also know that only makes it worse. I slide the glass door open to Taylor’s house. We’re going home. I’m taking Charlie home.
We’re almost inside when I hear Taylor snicker. I turn around. I’m too ready for a fight to ignore the sound. “You have something to say?”
Charlie touches my arm to try and calm me, but it doesn’t work.
“No, nothing,” Taylor says through a laugh. “Just noticing that even you didn’t want to kiss her.”
I cross the deck in three strides and get two inches from her face. “I’d watch what comes out of that fat mouth of yours.”
Taylor leans in even closer and lowers her voice. “I’ll say and do whatever I want, asshole. And another thing, you better watch your step at Centennial, because I could destroy you and your mutt-faced girlfriend.”
I throw my head back and laugh long and hard. Then I lean in and whisper in her ear, “You don’t know who you’re fucking with, princess. Ain’t no one do bad like I do.”
Chapter Thirteen
Innocence
Charlie is silent most of the way home. I try once to get her to talk about what happened, but she just half-smiles and says she’s fine. So I do what most guys do—I shut up and hope things get better on their own.
The thought of Charlie getting left in the woods makes me grip the steering wheel tighter. I have this sudden, crazy urge to smash my windshield out. I’m not sure what good it would do, but I imagine it all the same. If Charlie does have the ability to release good seals, no one at that damn party should ever receive one, even if for the rest of their lives they live like saints.
There is nothing I can do to protect her from the pain she feels. What’s more, it’s not my job to protect her. In fact, it’s quite the opposite, and crap like tonight doesn’t make it any easier.
Inside my glove compartment, the soul contract reminds me I have another option. But it’s not that simple. Yes, the contract would speed things along. But a girl like Charlie would never agree to the terms.
Beside me, Charlie’s chin rolls back and forth along her chest. She’s halfway between sleep and consciousness. Every few seconds, she releases these tiny snort-snores. How can someone be cruel to this chick? It’s like picking a fight with a chipmunk.
Her cheeks no longer hold their scarlet shade, and in the dark, her face almost seems pretty. It’s unfair that people like Taylor are born with good looks, while the Charlies of the world spend their lives being bottom-feeders.
For a second, I allow myself to imagine Taylor’s face if Charlie were to become beautiful. The thought is delicious.
Charlie is good and intelligent and should know what it’s like to have true and utter confidence. Not just the kind she has inside her charity, or even the bit she displayed tonight, though that was promising, but the kind that makes people notice when you walk by. Boss Man has targeted her, and nothing will ever stop that agenda. But once I’ve collected her soul, her body and mind will stay on earth for the remainder of her life.
Doesn’t she deserve the best while she’s alive?
It feels like I’m talking myself into using the soul contract. But I can’t decide whether it’s to make this easier for me or better for her. I don’t know.
Charlie does another snort-snore, and I glance over. Her bottom lip hangs open, and she’s breathing long and deep. I’m certain she’s moved from quasi-sleeping to passed the hell out.
When I glance back at the road, I sense someone standing in the middle of the street. Shit! My muscles clench, and I jerk the wheel to avoid leaving roadkill in my wake.
Charlie bolts upright, and her hands splay out. I do the thing where I throw my arm over her chest like my mother used to do. Elizabeth Taylor screams to a stop.
“What!” Charlie yells. “What’s going on?”
I whip my head around and search for the person in the street, but they’re nowhere to be seen. My heart pumps so fast, it’s painful. I’m guessing for Charlie, too, because she’s breathing hard.
“Did you see something?” she asks when I don’t say anything.
I run my hands through my hair and breathe out through tight lips. “No. I thought I saw a deer, but it was nothing. I’m just tired.”
Charlie studies me for a long time, then turns back to the road. “I’ll stay awake with you.”
“Cool,” I say. “Thanks.”
She reaches for the stereo. “Music?” I nod, and she flips through the channels until she finds a System of a Down song. “You like this kinda stuff, right?”
“Yeah. That’ll work.”
Charlie and I don’t talk for the remainder of the drive, which is fine with me. I’m too busy having conversations in my own head. I know what I sensed in the street. I just don’t know who I sensed. The collector watching me is getting too far up my ass. There was no reason for him to pop out in front of my car like that other than to mess with me. Does he realize what could’ve happened? What if I’d lost control of the car? I may be immortal, but I can still feel physical pain. And what about Charlie? Does he realize hurting her could mean war on earth?
The part that bothers me most is not which of the other five collectors is watching, but what he’s searching for. He must know about the assignment. And maybe he knows about the soul contract, too, and is waiting to see if I’ll use it. But why screw with me in the meantime?
When I pull up in front of Charlie’s house, she’s asleep again. So much for staying awake. I nudge her a few times, and she opens her eyes and wipes drool from her mouth.
Nice.
“Are you going to be okay?” I ask.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Of course.
I smile, and she slides out of her seat, a bit unsteady on her feet. She’s about to close the door but stops. “Hey, Dante?”
“What’s up?”
“Thanks for taking me to the party.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. It’s just…no one’s ever asked me to go before. And the first half was sorta fun.” She sticks her thumb and pinkie out and mimics drinking. I manage a half laugh before she continues, “I know thi
ngs didn’t go great, but it’s nice to be a part of the fun. It makes me feel like I’m living. Does that make sense?”
My whole body seems to pull into itself. I can’t believe after everyone kicking the crap out of her tonight, she’s grateful for the experience. At first, Charlie struck me as being so young. Maybe it’s her naïveté, or the fact that she’s brimming with dorkiness. But as I watch her hand trace light circles over her hip—a small curve in her body I never noticed before—I realize Charlie could be attractive to the right person. It’s in the way she sees the world. Like she’s lived a hundred lives before this, and now she’s got it all figured out. When in fact, she’s just a seventeen-year-old girl.
Charlie Cooper had something terrible happen to her. She watched as her parents burned alive. Anyone would say she has a right to be angry. To be reckless. To weave a string of sins, each one worse than the last. And yet, she somehow manages to have this…this innocence.
She has every reason to be exactly like me.
But she’s not.
For one small moment, I envy her life. I can’t help wondering how things would be different for me if I’d lived the way she does. It’s a thought I typically never allow myself to linger over. But with her, I can’t help it.
I can’t think of the right words to tell her how lucky she is. Or how, now that I think of it, that dress doesn’t look so terrible on her. So I just say, “Good night, Charlie.”
She smiles, and it takes over her entire face. “Night.”
Chapter Fourteen
Decisions
I lay awake in my hotel room. For the past three hours, I’ve been tossing and turning like a druggie in rehab. The soul contract is driving me crazy.
To use, or not to use: that is the question.
I have to forget about the way I saw Charlie tonight, with her innocence all up in my face. And I can’t think about how doing this to her either way makes me feel…off. Boss Man gave me a job to do, and if I don’t do it, someone else will. And that someone else will get my promotion, because sure as shit, Boss Man’s owning her soul in a week. So I have to make a decision. I need to be the collector I was sent here to be, and use the tools at my disposal.
I am Dante Walker.
I am not merciful.
In order for me to use the soul contract, I’d have to be sure she’d trust me completely. Even more, I’d have to be sure I could follow through to the very end, because once a soul contract is signed, it’d be the only thing the Underworld talks about.
My other choice is to collect Charlie’s soul the tried-and-true way. But that has proven to be more than a little difficult.
Either way, something has to happen. I can’t let her walk around destroying our work with her pink seals.
After another half hour of wrestling this issue, I shoot up in bed with my decision made. I will collect Charlie’s soul without the contract. If the collector watching me is waiting to see what I can do, I’m going to give him one hell of a show.
I had the right idea a few days ago, and now is the time to put it into action—when she is at her most vulnerable. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and throw on my clothes. The clock reads 2:30 a.m. when I shut the hotel door behind me and jog toward my Escalade.
As I drive to her house, I run over the scene in my head. I’ll seduce Charlie tonight. I’ll take every part of her body for my own, and tomorrow she’ll be a doll in my arms. Putty I can twist and mangle.
When I finally arrive, my heart is racing, and I know there’s no turning back. I scale up the lattice to her window and knock quietly. The last thing I need is Grams killing our moment.
After the fourth knock, Charlie slides her window open, and I crawl inside.
“Dante?” she asks, her voice thick with sleep. “What are you doing here? It’s, like…” She glances at her nightstand. “It’s almost three in the morning. Is something wrong?”
I move toward her to do what I came here for. Her lips fall open when I pull her in close to me. My hands wrap around the sides of her face. I stare down at her. The moment hangs between us. She needs to think this is love. There’s no other way she’ll submit.
Her eyes open wide, and I see in them something that makes me sick: trust. She’ll do anything I ask, and I know why. She cares about me. In two days, she’s opened her heart the way I never could. She believes I am her friend. Me.
Dante.
A fraud.
I drop my hands from her face and step back. Charlie releases a quick breath. I wonder if she knew what was about to happen. She has to. I glance at her, barely able to raise my head. She’s dressed in a red silk above-the-knee slip. Something I can’t believe she owns. And even though she’s wearing this thing that says I’m Down to Mess Around, she still exudes this purity.
I don’t want to hurt her. I really don’t. But I won’t miss my chance to leave hell.
Her hair, her skin…the way she walks. Her appearance prevents people from realizing how amazing she is.
But not anymore.
I step in close and take her hands in mine.
“Charlie,” I say, “I’m going to make you beautiful.”
Chapter Fifteen
Surprise!
I pull Charlie down on the bed and sit beside her.
“What are you talking about, Dante?” Charlie stares down at her feet. I know I’ve hurt her by implying she’s not beautiful, but we have to face facts to move forward.
“There are some things you don’t know about me,” I answer.
The realization that I’m going to expose myself crashes down on my shoulders. They hunch over from the weight. This could go wrong so many different ways. I haven’t really thought about how I would say this, because I never thought I would.
“I’m sure there are a lot of things I don’t know about you. We’ve only known each other two days.”
Stalling, I point to the clock. “Technically three.”
She seems confused, then turns to glance at the clock. I expect her to laugh, but she doesn’t. “Okay, three.”
I stand up from the bed and put my hands on my head, lacing my fingers together. Then I shake my arms out and sit back down.
“What is it?” Her voice brims with concern, and it only makes me feel worse about the lies I’ve told her. This is exactly why I hate making things personal.
“What I mean to say is I haven’t been honest about who I am,” I tell her.
She leans back. It’s hardly noticeable, but I notice it all the same. “Well, this seems easy enough. Just tell me the truth. Who are you?”
I’m a collector sent from hell to manipulate you into sinning until I can collect your soul.
This doesn’t seem like the best way to start. So instead, I say, “I didn’t come to Peachville because of my mom’s new job. I came for you.”
Charlie swallows. “What do you mean you came for me?”
To seem like I care, I cover her hand with mine. “My mom doesn’t live down the road. I don’t live down the road. I’m staying at Wink Hotel near the plaza.” I squeeze her fingers. “Charlie, my job was to find you.”
She wiggles her fingers free. “Why?”
I don’t know what to say next, so I decide to just leap. “I work as a collector.”
“Like a debt collector?”
“No, Charlie.” I crack my knuckles. Here goes. “I work as a soul collector.”
Charlie starts laughing and stands up from the bed, leaning on her good hip. “My gosh, Dante. It’s three o’clock in the freaking morning. If you wanted to mess with my head, why didn’t you do it at the party?”
“I’m telling you the truth.”
“No, you’re being a jerk. And I want you to leave.”
“Charlie, listen.” I cross the room and grab her elbows. “I’m a collector. My job is to place seals on people’s souls.”
“Why are you talking to me like I’m an idiot?”
“I don’t think you’re an idiot,” I say
. “I swear I’m—”
“Okay, fine. Let’s say you’re a soul collector,” she says mockingly. “How’d you get the job?”
“I was deemed the best for the position.”
“By whom?”
“By God.”
I don’t know why I say this. Maybe because there’s no way I can tell her who actually employs me. But now that I’ve said it aloud, I realize the idea is brilliant. If I can convince her I work for Big Guy, she might agree to the contract. It’s not like there’s anything in the fine print specifying where her soul goes.
“By God?” Charlie’s eyes narrow. “And why does God want my soul?”
“Because it’s pure.” Though I’m lying, somehow this part feels true.
“You got some sort of proof you work for God?”
“No, I don’t, but—” I stop. Wait a second. Heck, yeah, I got proof. “Okay, I’m going to do something, and you have to promise not to scream or do any other loud chick thing. ’Kay?”
She seems unsure, but nods anyway.
I press my lips together and pull on my shadow, leaving her seemingly alone in the room.
Charlie stumbles back and bumps into her dresser. A dozen crystal figurines teeter. “Dante?” she says, her voice quivering. “Where’d you go?”
I remove my shadow and reappear.
Her hand flies to her mouth. “You just disappeared,” she says through her fingers.
“Word,” I say. “It’s called shadow. All collectors can do it with one of these bad boys.” I reach down, pull up my jeans, and point to my gold cuff—my Achilles heel. “The reason I never wear shorts.”
“What. Is. That?” She runs her hands over the smooth metal.
“It’s my cuff. It allows me to collect souls, and use shadow, and walk the earth after death.”
Charlie’s eyes become enormous. “After death? You’re trying to tell me you’re dead?”
“Yeah. And the cuff keeps me alive. Honestly, Charlie. Do I look like the kind of guy that’d wear this for fun?”
“No. But you don’t look dead, either.” She bites her lip, thinking. “If you’re so dead…how’d you die?”