hard to ground someone who doesn’t even officially exist. And can walk through walls.
“Whatever.” He ran one hand through his mop of curls. “Can’t you skip school tomorrow?”
“Love to,” I said, and Tod’s eyes brightened. Until I continued. “But I can’t. I skipped last period today for this little road trip, and if I miss again, the school will call my dad.”
“High school’s a pain in the ass,” Tod snapped, and I almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of such an understatement. “I’ll be glad when you turn eighteen.”
That time I did laugh. “Me, too.”
“That makes three of us.” The heat in Nash’s eyes said his agreement had nothing to do with helping either Tod or Addison, and everything to do with uninterrupted privacy. At least where my father was concerned.
Something told me getting rid of Tod would be a little more difficult.
My phone rang as I took a long, gradual curve in the highway, and Nash helped me hold the wheel while I dug my cell from my pocket. I didn’t recognize the number, which meant my father probably hadn’t figured anything out yet.
I flipped my phone open and held it to my ear with my right hand, while I steered with my left. “Hello?”
“Kaylee?” It was Addison, and she sounded stuffy, like she had a cold. Or like she’d been crying.
“Addy, what’s wrong?” I asked, and Tod’s image in the rearview mirror lurched when he leaned forward. His arm brushed the back of my shoulder as he hovered near my phone to listen in.
“Tod doesn’t have a phone, so he gave me your number,” Addison began, sniffling into my ear. “I hope that’s okay.” She sniffed again, and I wanted to tell her to blow her nose.
“It’s fine. What’s wrong?” I asked again, as Tod’s breath warmed the back of my neck, stirring my ponytail. How weird that he was alive enough to breathe hot air, but not to carry a cell phone. Maybe it was hard to get an account in a dead man’s name….
“It’s Regan.” Addison sobbed haltingly while I twisted the wheel to the left to keep us on the road when it curved. Suddenly it felt like I was trying to do a dozen things at once. And failing.
“What’s wrong with Regan?” Tod asked over my shoulder, and she must have heard him.
“John Dekker offered her the contract, and she said yes!” Her voice rose in disbelief on the last word, and it echoed like a siren going off in my head. For a moment I wondered how certain we were of Addison’s humanity. “He’s on his way here now. He always brings the contract personally—he doesn’t trust anyone else with it.”
My heart beat so hard my chest felt bruised. John Dekker was coming to Texas, and he was bringing a soul-sucking demon with him.
The road swam before me as my horror and confusion crested in a startling wave of disorientation. Nash grabbed the wheel again, though I hadn’t let go of it, and I took a deep breath, forcing my thoughts apart. Each to its own distinct corner of my mind. That was the only way I could concentrate on one at a time.
I tightened my grip on the wheel, eased up on the gas, and focused on the road, nodding absently to tell Nash I was fine. Until a semi blasted past on our right, nearly blowing us off the highway.
Maybe I should pull over….
“Wait, your sister sold her soul?” I said, hitting the speakerphone button as I glanced over my shoulder to make sure there was nothing in the other lane. But the entire highway was blocked by Tod’s face, crinkled with fear—an odd expression to find on a reaper.
“Move!” I mouthed, handing the phone to Nash, and Tod immediately dropped back into the rear passenger seat. I swerved too quickly into the right lane—blessedly empty—then onto the shoulder of the road.
“She hasn’t actually signed the contract yet,” Addison continued, oblivious to my driving woes. “But she will as soon as Dekker gets here. You guys have to help me. Please. She won’t listen to me, but she can’t argue with you. She knows Tod’s dead. You all have to come tell her what you told me. What will happen to her when she dies.”
“Why won’t she listen to you?” I shoved the gearshift into Park, and Nash stabbed a button on the dash to turn on the hazard lights.
“She thinks I’m trying to hold her back.” Addy sobbed again and springs creaked as she sat on something. It sounded like a bed, rather than a chair. “She said she was tired of ‘singing in my shadow.’”
Nash spoke loudly, to make sure she could hear. “Addy, where’s your mom?”
Addison sniffled again, sounding much younger than eighteen. I guess true terror does that. “She went out, and she’s not answering her phone.” She didn’t elaborate, but I recognized the embarrassed, disgusted tone in her voice. Her mom was strung out again, and gone when she was needed most.
“Does she know what your sister’s about to do?” Nash continued.
Addison sobbed miserably. “Yeah, but she doesn’t understand. I tried to tell her Regan was selling her soul, but she thought I was speaking in metaphors.” She sniffled again. “I doubt she’d care, anyway. She’d just see dollar signs.”
I already hated Mrs. Page, though I’d never met her.
Tod leaned forward with his arms folded across the back of Nash’s seat this time. “Where’s Regan now?”
“We’re both at home,” Addy said. “My mom’s house in Hurst. Do you remember how to get here?”
Tod nodded, then realized she couldn’t hear him. “Yeah.” But then he faltered, obviously at a loss for how we could help.
But I had an idea—a stroke of genius, really—that sent adrenaline racing through my veins fast enough to leave me light-headed. “After she signs the contract, Dekker has to take her to the Netherworld like they did with you, right?” My small car rocked violently as another huge truck blasted past us on the highway, without bothering to move into the far lane.
Addison cleared her throat, and more springs groaned. “Yeah, but we can’t let that happen. We have to stop her from signing.”
“I know.” I held up one finger to tell Nash and Tod to wait—that I really was going somewhere with this. “But my point is that in order to take her to the Netherworld, Dekker has to bring along that reaper, right? The lady who took you to the hellion?”
“Yeah, I guess …”
“And, Tod.” I twisted in the driver’s seat to face him, though the steering wheel bruised my side. “Using your soul-wrangling abilities for anything other than reaping from the approved list is illegal for a reaper, right? Including taking humans to the Netherworld to facilitate the removal of their souls?” He nodded, and I continued. “Would you call that a firing offense?”
“Definitely.” His eyes lit up, as my point became clear.
“And would your boss be interested in the chance to fire such a reaper?”
His
