My Soul to Steal
Page 25

 Gena Showalter

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Unfortunately, I couldnt make myself go back to sleep for fear that Sabine would be waiting to attack me again from my own subconscious. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Nash, huddled in a corner, telling me I wasnt worth staying clean for. So I got up and padded into the kitchen, where I found Alec wide-awake, fully dressed, and halfway through a box of snack cakes.
You, too? I asked, trudging past him to take a glass from the cabinet.
Kaylee? Alec coughed, nearly choking on his snack in surprise.
Yeah. I live here, remember? I ran tap water until it turned cold, then filled my glass.
Of course. I didnt expect you to be awake. At this hour.
I raised one brow at him over my water glass. You okay? You soundtired. And less than perfectly coherent. And Dads going to kill you for eating all his cupcakes.
An annoyed expression passed over Alecs strong, dark features, but was gone almost before Id seen it.
You wanna hear something interesting? I asked. And by interesting, I mean terrifying beyond all reason
One dark brow rose as Alec closed the end of the snack box. You have my attention.
I had his attention? If youre trying to sound your real age, I think youre finally getting it right.
He frowned, like Id spoken Greek and he was trying to translate.
Anyway, remember my nightmare last night? I just had another one, but it turns out that they arent real dreams. Well, not natural dreams, anyway. I leaned against the counter with the sink at my back. Nashs ex is giving them to me. On purpose. Shes a mara, if you can believe it. The living personification of a nightmare. How messed up is that?
Nashs former lover is a mara? Alec wasnt even looking at me now. He was staring into space as if that little nugget of information took some time to sink in. I knew exactly how he felt.
Yeah. She wants him back and has decided Im in her way. But I have news for that little sleep-terroristits going to take more than a couple of bad dreams to scare me off, so I hope she has something bigger up her sleeve.
But as soon as Id said it, I wanted to take it back. Challenging Sabine felt a little bit like staring a lion in the mouth, daring it to pounce.
YOU OKAY? MY DAD asked, pouring coffee into his travel mug as I walked into the kitchen. He wore his usual jeans and steel-toed work boots, his chin scruffy with dark stubble above the collar of a flannel shirt.
Just tired. I couldnt go back to sleep after my middle-of-the-night chat with Alec, so Id stretched out on my bed, silently rehashing my argument with Nash, analyzing every word hed said ad nauseam. Can I have some ofthat?
My father frowned at the pot of coffee, hesitating. Then he gave up and poured a second mug for me. If you need coffee at sixteen, I hate to think what mornings will be like when youre my age.
Considering how many times Id nearly died since the beginning of my junior year, Id settle for just surviving to his age. But I knew better than to say that out loud.
Hey, Dad? I said, pulling a box of cereal from the cabinet overhead.
Hmm? He opened his carton of cupcakesthe breakfast of championsand frowned into it. Did you eat my snacks?
No. Dad, what do you think the chances are of two teachers dying on the same day?
He looked up from his box, still frowning, but now at me. I guess that depends on the circumstances. Why?
Cause Mr. Wesner and Mrs. Bennigan both died yesterday. At their desks, at least six hours apart. You didnt see it on the news last night? The story had been a short, somber community interest piecea small Dallas suburb mourning the loss of two teachers at once. There were no signs of foul play, so theyre calling it a really weird, tragic coincidence.
And you dont believe that? His irises held steadyit took a lot to rattle my fatherbut unease was clear in the firm line of his jaw.
I dont know what to think. It probably is just a coincidence, but with everything else thats gone down this year I couldnt help but wonder. And I could tell my dad was thinking the same thing.
Well, lets not borrow trouble until we come up short. I can ask around. Meaning hed talk to Harmony Hudson and my uncle Brendon. But I want you to stay out of it. Just in case. Got it?
I nodded and poured milk into my bowl. Thats what I was hoping hed say. And now that Id been expressly forbidden from investigating the massively coincidental teacher deaths, I should have felt free from the compulsion to do just that. Right? So why was it so hard to get Mrs. Bennigan out of my head? Why did the soft rise and fall of her back haunt my memory?
Alec trudged into the kitchen and I shook off my morbid thoughts and sank into a chair at the table with my cold cereal. He headed straight for the coffeepot.
You, too? my dad asked, with one look at the bags under his eyes.
Alec shrugged and scrubbed one hand over his close-cropped curls. I didnt get much sleep.
My dads brows furrowed as he glanced from Alec to me, obviously leaping to a very weird conclusion. Is there something I should know? he half growled, glaring at Alec as he spooned sugar into his mug, completely oblivious to my fathers suspicion and sudden tension.