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“Why not cut out the middle man?” she said with mock innocence.
“No,” I scoffed. “You mean cut out the reaper? Or cut out…” My eyebrows crept higher up my forehead as I realized what she meant. “Cut out the death?”
“What’s the difference?” she sneered. “You have no problem taking a pure soul after its death. Why not take… whoever? Pick a criminal or a child molester for all I care. A living soul will work even better than a pure one. You can be a rootin’ tootin’ vigilante. Don’t all little boys want to be heroes?”
“This will mess with the balance of life and death,” I protested. “If the Order hears about this—”
Lysandra’s beautiful face contorted into something monstrous at the mention of the Order. She pulled her lacquered lips back from her teeth, revealing sharp fangs. Slowly, threateningly, she reached one hand into the folds of her kimono and then produced a jar. I didn’t have to look at it to know what was inside. She’d threatened me with it before.
Inside was a small golden butterfly. I could hear its wings beating against the glass, making a faint ting sound. Lysandra held all sorts of souls at her disposal for a myriad of reasons. She’d plucked mine from her shelf today specifically to taunt me, though it normally rested on a bookcase with so many others. Frogs, butterflies, bees, hummingbirds, crickets—she had an army of little golden garden critters trapped right where she wanted them. All of us quaint little souls she could squash under her many legs.
She shook the jar, and I felt a twisting, burning pain throughout my chest. It was enough to make my knees buckle, and I clutched at my t-shirt, trying to do anything to relieve the pain.
“Do it, Gabriel Randall,” Lysandra growled, more poison dripping from her fangs. “Do it, or the deal is off. Your soul for hers, remember?”
I nodded. I would do what she asked.
Of course I remembered…
There was no way I would ever forget.
5
MARNIE
“I’m home!” I called, dropping my keys and a few takeout boxes on the kitchen counter. I’d used the back door since it was closer to where I’d pulled the Civic in. I’d texted Beck on my way, hoping he’d cracked open a few beers or maybe set the table, but the house was quiet.
“Hello?” I called. “Hey–”
I stopped abruptly as I took in the scene in the living room. Beck was on our hand-me-down couch, a beer nestled between his legs. He was still in his white tee from yesterday, and his jeans, and I got the distinct impression that he hadn’t showered even though it was almost six. But worst of all… he was lounging on the couch with a new Xbox controller in his hand. Oh, and it wasn’t just the controller. It was a new everything—console, TV, soundbar… all of it just staring me in the face.
“Beck… How?” I said, completely confused. I grabbed a piece of paper off the coffee table and saw that it was for a Best Buy credit card.
“Beck,” I said, my hand beginning to shake. “I—I can’t… How are we going to pay for this?”
He ignored me and continued playing the game. I recognized it as Red Dead Redemption. The asshole just couldn’t get enough of cowboys, or “Americana,” as he’d so snootily put it.
“BECK!” I shouted.
He jolted, nearly spilling his beer. “Geez, Marn. What? We needed some new stuff. And there’s no, like, interest or whatever for twelve months.”
I scoffed. “Interest or not, I can’t even afford the minimum on this! We’re strapped as it is.”
He shrugged, his eyes still on the game. “Moving out was your decision. Anyway, what’d you bring home? I’m starving.”
Tears pricked my eyes, and panic rose in my chest. Finances always did this to me. I’d grown up poor, and I was very careful with what I spent and how I spent it. Something like this, something so huge and inconsiderate… I just couldn’t process it. I had no idea what he’d been thinking. More importantly, I had no idea how we were going to afford anything…
Unless…
I took a deep breath and decided it was time to have the conversation we’d been avoiding for far too long. I’d told myself I’d give him a month, but it appeared he’d sped up the timeline a bit. With practiced movement, doing my best to keep my hand steady, I set the credit card paper back on the coffee table. I swallowed thickly, trying to make my voice even. If I came at him too hard, he’d just shut down.
“Before we eat… before… anything, Beck, we need to talk about something important,” I said.
He finally glanced at me, his eyes narrowed in irritation. “Can’t it wait, babe? I’m in the middle of a game.”
“No, it can’t wait,” I managed through gritted teeth. “We’ve been avoiding this for way too long. I… I had enough saved up to buy you some time… but making financial decisions without me has sort of ruined that. We need to be a team. Which means… Beck, you need to get a job.”
Beck laughed, a dry, bitter sound. “Come on, Marnie. You know I’m working on my music. I can’t be tied down to some soul-sucking nine-to-five job. You wanted this, remember? And I had to make some purchases to make sure I felt at home here.”
