She wouldn’t believe it. And neither would I, if our positions were reversed. She might be my adoptive mother, but I’d always been a realist and a skeptic just like her.
I wish I could say I had a great plan to make everything turn out okay. I didn’t. And after another restless night when I doubted if I got more than a half hour’s sleep, I trudged to school once again. Happy Friday.
My thoughts weren’t clogged only with my own woes. No, I couldn’t stop thinking about Bishop.
It was torture thinking about him, thinking about what happened. And the look on his face when he learned he was really fallen. He immediately assumed that meant he couldn’t go back to Heaven—even if it was a mistake on their part. But this wasn’t his fault. He’d given up so much to lead this mission. There had to be a way.
The homeless man was fallen, too. That meant he also had a soul. My heart clenched thinking that could be Bishop’s future—full-time madness, wandering the streets alone. I drew in a ragged breath and tried not to break down in the school hallways.
I didn’t want Bishop to be hurt. I wanted him to get better, not worse.
He was so brave. He’d volunteered to lead a mission to help save the city from destruction—to help maintain the balance of the entire freaking universe. And now he might have to stay here forever. And go crazier by the day.
It was so desperately unfair.
I wanted to help him, to touch him and make the madness all go away, but Kraven didn’t want me anywhere near him again. But Bishop needed me—despite what had happened between us.
I needed to find him again. I needed to be close to him, to hold him…to kiss him…
Damn it, Samantha, don’t think about that. I rubbed my forehead so hard it felt raw.
But that kiss—it wasn’t just a kiss. It was a free sample of crack cocaine given to an addict. I desperately needed more. I needed him. I wanted him. Now. Tomorrow. Forever.
But I couldn’t have him. And that thought felt like a sharp golden dagger slowly slicing deep into my chest.
My running shoes squeaked on the linoleum as I made my dazed way through the busy halls toward my locker. My leather bag felt heavy on my shoulder today, even though I hadn’t taken any books home this week. Hadn’t done any homework at all—it was the last thing on my mind.
I twirled the lock on my locker to open it up and stared inside. I couldn’t do this. Why was I even here today?
To keep an eye on Carly.
I peeked past the edge of my locker to see her headed straight for me. For a moment, I thought she might look guilty, but, no, she didn’t. In fact, she looked extremely happy.
The Carly I knew might like to stick her hands into beehives, but she definitely felt the sting. This wasn’t her. Not really.
“Hey.” She greeted me with a big smile. “How’s it going?”
Hazardous question. I was afraid to answer it with the truth. Everybody had been lying to me, so I suppose it was only fair for me to join in.
I pushed a smile onto my face. “Pretty good. You?”
“Great.”
“And you and Paul…?”
“Oh, my God.” She beamed. “He’s so amazing. I can’t believe I never gave him a chance before.”
“Yeah, me, too. But—” how could I approach this in a way that wouldn’t do more damage? “—you kissed him.”
She dug in her locker and pulled out some supplies for her art class before closing it and leaning her shoulder against it. “I know you’re mad at me for that.”
“I’m not mad, I’m…concerned.”
“He’s fine. You saw it yourself. And I feel fine. Let’s not make this a big deal, okay?”
“Why did it happen? And…has it ever happened before?”
A little of the happiness disappeared from her face. “That was the first time. I couldn’t help it. He smelled so unbelievably good, I couldn’t stop myself. And he wanted to kiss me. I didn’t force him or anything.” Instead of looking guilty, she looked wistful. “He was so delicious, I can’t even explain it.”
It made me cringe at the reminder of my kiss with Bishop, which had been both amazing and horrible for different reasons. “You need to promise me that won’t ever happen again.”
Her smile faded. “I don’t know if I can promise that.”
“Carly—”
“Look.” Her voice went from bubbly to sharp in two seconds flat. “I have it under control. I got the warnings—don’t feed too much or I could totally lose control. I won’t feed too much. But I can’t not feed at all. Not anymore. So just get off my back about this, okay?”
I faltered. “I’m just worried about you.”
“Don’t be. Paul’s fine. I already saw him this morning. He’s fine. So stop trying to make me feel guilty, because it’s not going to work. Maybe you should focus a little more on yourself rather than me. You’re the one with the problem.”
“I am?”
“Yeah. Two of them. Around six-two, gorgeous, dangerous as hell?”
Well, one of them was. The other was just six-two, gorgeous and dangerous.
My stomach sank further the longer this conversation went on. Carly seemed different today. She didn’t see that what she’d done was that bad. I had a feeling that if I kept pushing her, it wouldn’t get her to promise me not to kiss Paul—or anyone else—again. It would only make her angry with me.