Soul Corrupted (2 page)

Josh

I’m worried about Grace.

I thought seeing her family again would be good for
her. All it’s done so far is make her miserable. It’s mostly that little shit
of a brother. He’s worse than I was. I wish I could show him what he’s doing to
her, but I can’t. Mr. Griffith won’t allow it, and the last thing I want to do
is test him.

Mr. Griffith is cool, though. He’s easy to talk to,
always knows what to say, and can really cut loose with his loud laugh and
sarcastic comments. The thing is, I’m slow to trust, especially when it comes to
father figures. And this particular father figure is the one who saved my ass.
Who’s to say he won’t change his mind?

“How about a game of pool?” Mr. Griffith asks as I pop
the top off an ice-cold soda.

In Heaven, we can change a room with just a thought.
Mr. Griffith says he chooses the décor based on the person he’s meeting. For me,
he’s turned his office into a pool hall, with arcade games and dartboards
lining the wooden walls. The only things missing, besides people, are the smell
of smoke and the sting of alcohol. I don’t ask for either. Just the thought of
them makes my stomach hurt from memories of a time when I would drink and drive
to escape my miserable life with my dad.

I shake off the thoughts, take a chug of cola, set it
down near the edge of the thick, green felt, and smile. Being around Mr.
Griffith brings a grin out of everyone as far as I can tell. He gestures to the
rack on the wall and I select a cue while he sets up.

“You have a lot on your mind,” he says in his deep
voice, which is tinged with a trace of some unidentifiable accent.

The balls crack and spin when I break. I sink the nine-ball
in the corner pocket. “Is that why you called me?” I ask, chalking the tip of
my cue for my next shot.

“One of the reasons.” Mr. Griffith drinks from a soda
of his own with a satisfying sigh.

I can’t help but laugh even though I’ve missed my
shot. “Enjoying that?”

“I’m so busy, I rarely think to indulge. I should do
this more often.” He leans over the table, eyes so intent on the ball that I’m
surprised it doesn’t explode. He gives it a shove with the cue and it slides
right into the side pocket.

“Nice shot,” I say. “Too bad it was stripes. That’s my
ball.”

“Oh?” He nudges the tip of the pocket and I peer
inside. It’s a solid.

I
tsk
. “Cheating? In Heaven? Really, Mr.
Griffith?”

“Sometimes things aren’t as clear cut as they appear.”
He levels his eyes at me.

I get the feeling this is meant to be a life lesson purposefully
directed at me.

I sit on the edge of the next table and watch as Mr.
Griffith continues sinking balls in various pockets.

“Isn’t there something we can do about Grace’s
brother?” I finally ask.

He pauses, stretching with the cue behind his back.
“You mean Noah?” Mr. Griffith scowls. “Such a shame. It must be awful for poor
Grace to watch him walk the wrong path.”

“It’s killing her. Well, you know, metaphorically.
There has to be something we can do, right?” I don’t want to let this slide. I
need a reasonable answer.

“Unfortunately, as much as I want to swoop in like a superhero
and prevent him from making those choices, I can’t.” Mr. Griffith hits the cue
ball with the stick still behind his back. It knocks the three-ball into the
side, sending it bouncing off different edges of the table until it finally
comes to a stop just at the edge of the corner pocket. “If I altered the course
of his life, Noah would lose his free will, and that would be the saddest crime
of all.”

I get ready to shoot, finally, but before I can, Mr.
Griffith’s ball falls into the pocket. I sigh. “I get it. We aren’t allowed to
use our powers to force someone to make good decisions. But he’s already made the
bad ones, and this affects more than just him. Can’t you fix things now for
Grace’s sake?”

“I’d love to, Josh. But it never works out the way you
imagine it will. That’s why we assign Guardian Angels like the two of you to
certain souls. You can guide through friendship and example, but you can’t
force with power.”

“So assign me, then.” I volunteer as Mr. Griffith
takes aim at the perfectly lined-up eight-ball.

He laughs. “I forbid you from revealing yourself to
Grace’s family for a reason. I only assign Guardians to those who ask for help
or those who have the potential to become the Antichrist. And
before
you
protest, think about what it would mean for Angels to be influencing human
decisions all the time, across the globe. What if an Angel sees a woman about
to murder a man and intervenes? Clear-cut, right? Not if the Angel didn’t
realize that the woman was defending both herself and her child from an abusive
man about to kill them. There are billions of people on Earth, and Angels may
not understand all the nuances involved, especially if we’re trying to save
every life. It may be difficult to stand back and watch, but humans need the
ability to make their own decisions. Free will should never be taken lightly.
Besides, Josh, if I put you in the middle, it would only serve to come between
you and Grace. It’s better if you stay on task and be there for her when she
needs your support.”

“On task. Right. You want us to start searching for
the next possible Antichrist. And you said you’d teach us how.”

Mr. Griffith shoots and misses, a big grin spreading
over his face. I stare at the eight-ball for a minute, waiting for it to come
to life and spin into the pocket, but it doesn’t.

“All you have to do is watch the prospects until you
see the signs.”

“How do we find the prospects? What signs?” I sink a
ball in the side pocket.

“Heaven allows you to conjure whatever you desire. So
desire a window that will show you the prospective souls. You’ll find seeds in
a soul that show a darker need or desire that calls to that individual.
Remember, even the most heinous soul grows from a small seed.”

“Lots of people do bad stuff,” I say, sinking the next
ball with a combo shot.

“True. Very true. And it’s no exact science, but over
the millennium we’ve noticed certain attributes that potentials have in common.
Think of your last assignment for example.”

“Cam?” I shudder at the memories, all the horrible
things I had to take part in because the Devil forced me to. Every time I see
Tommy Two, I remember how he made it to Heaven in the first place. How, to
avoid Lucifer’s wrath, I sat there while Cam tortured him—while Cam
studied his bloody face, reveling in the pain he felt. My stomach turns.

Cam planned to kill, maim, torture, and blow things up
because he loved anarchy. He loved manipulating people and forcing them to feel
pain and fear. Tommy Two was just the beginning. That must be what Mr. Griffith
is talking about.

I wonder how Cam is fairing in Hell with Lucifer as I
make the next shot. “How many potential souls are there at any given time? I
thought Cam was the only one.”

Mr. Griffith takes a sip of cola. “What you are
looking for are souls that may
become
a ‘Cam’ so you know who to focus
your attention on. Even an Angel’s judgment is fallible and we must be sure, or
we’ll be wasting our time while Lucifer’s attention is drawn to another
potential dark soul. Only one soul becomes the Antichrist—Lucifer’s
counterpart on Earth—but there are many potential souls with seeds of
darkness inside them. If you can find the one destined to become the Antichrist,
we will have a greater opportunity to reach that soul in time. Last time we
were fortunate that Irma’s plans involved both you and Grace finding Cam at the
same time.

“The signs of the Antichrist’s
reign
are more
literal—a cluster of thirteen ravens, a purple sky, and the number of the
Antichrist: six hundred sixty-six. But if these signs become visible, Josh,
then Heaven may no longer intercede. It means the destined Antichrist has
committed murder and harnessed the power of Hell, and only Hell can touch the
Antichrist. This is what you must prevent.”

“I’m kind of confused. I’m no expert at religion, but
I thought the End Times meant the world is finally going to be saved or
whatever, but then when I was in Hell, Lucifer seemed pretty sure it would mean
his rise to power.”

Mr. Griffith gets that fatherly look on his face, or
at least what I picture a decent father might look like when his son asks a
good question. “Humans don’t have the story quite right. Let’s just say that
once the Antichrist rises to power, things are out of our hands.”

I peer down the cue, taking careful aim and pretending
not to be shaken by his words, but my hand slips at the last moment when Mr.
Griffith sneezes.

“Excuse me,” he says, taking my place at the table.

I close my mouth and shake my head a little. “But why
use Grace and me? Isn’t it
too
important a job?”

“Ahh, excellent question. You are the ones we chose
because you were once human. I was born an Angel, created directly by the Man Himself.
Once you take a job up here, it’s only a matter of time before you become more
Angel than human. You become part of Heaven, and you lose touch with the world
below. You can no longer—how should I put it?—‘fit in’ as easily. There’s
a limited timeframe that Angels are able to spend masquerading as humans on Earth,
and that’s precisely what’s needed in most cases. A friend.” Mr. Griffith takes
another gulp of soda.

I nod, trying to wrap my head around all of it. Then I
take a deep breath, try to focus on what I wanted in the first place, and appeal
to Mr. Griffith one more time. “Grace is kind of upset about her brother. So, I
was thinking it would be helpful to our mission if you stepped in—just
this one time—and helped.”

“It will be good for Grace to focus on something
besides her old life.” Mr. Griffith taps the cue ball and it does a figure
eight, turning completely around to knock the eight-ball in the pocket by his
wrist. “Look at that! I won.”

Seriously? “You were cheating,” I say. “You didn’t
really win.”

“Oh?” Mr. Griffith arches an eyebrow at me.
Subtle.

“If it was cheating to save a life and not a stupid
pool game, it would be different. It would be worth it.”

“Too bad right and wrong aren’t that clear-cut,” he
says, replacing his stick on the rack. “If I’d stepped in to save Grace in the
first place, you may never have made it here.”

 Score one, Mr. Griffith.

Grace

The smooth circle of glass
appears in the center of the room, just in front of Josh’s sofa where we sit
side by side, Tommy Two nuzzled close to my hip.

“Show us the possible future Antichrists,” I say.
“Please.” It’s habit to be polite, even if I’m talking to an inanimate object.

The surface wobbles and reflects a series of bright
colors before resolving into an image of a house. But before my eyes can settle
on the scene, it becomes a different building, maybe a rundown apartment. And
then it shifts again. It switches several times, and as I wait for it to
resolve, my mind jumps back, as it always does lately, to Noah. The image
settles on a Tudor-style house in a nice, suburban neighborhood lined with
trees. I recognize it right away.

“That’s your place,” Josh says.

I sigh. “Sorry. I was just wishing I could see what
Noah was doing.”

Sure enough, my brother’s familiar form appears in the
driveway, where he stuffs his hands in his pockets and hunches his shoulders
against the wind. I stand, suddenly no longer wanting to know what he’s up to,
and walk to the other side of the room where I keep the framed pictures of my
family from my life on Earth. I’d rather see this younger version of Noah—the
one where his warm, honeyed eyes are so innocent and eager to please.

“You have to focus, Grace.” Josh speaks from the sofa,
where he continues to study the flat image before him. “Mr. Griffith said if
you focus on our work then you’ll feel bett—”

“Oh! Shoot. There’s something else I have to do. I
totally forgot. Would you mind taking over just for now?” It’s true. Since my
own training consisted of bits and pieces of misinformation explained by Ms.
Alvarez, aka Psychotic Bitch, Mr. Griffith appointed someone to fill me in on
all the things I never learned so I could train Josh the right way. He assigned
the job to Shona, an Angel trainer and Heavenly librarian. She was supposed to teach
me about greeter Angels, who welcome incoming souls, this afternoon. As usual,
I was distracted by my family.

I’d been at my dad’s office. I wanted to see why he’s
been at work so much and not home where Noah and Mom need him so bad. It was a
pretty boring afternoon for him as far as I could tell, but I got lost in his
scent of coffee and paper, and the way he kept rubbing at his stubble, like he
always used to when I asked a question he didn’t know how to answer.

Tommy Two gives a sharp bark and I’m snapped out of my
thoughts. I swipe at a tear that lingers in the corner of my eye and look to
Josh, who hasn’t answered me and is still watching the window. His face is as
white as his robe.

“What’s wrong?” Panic stabs at me. I want to run over and
see what Noah’s gotten himself into now, but I can’t seem to move.

Josh snaps out of it and forces a smile. “Sorry, it’s
nothing. I didn’t mean to worry you. I was watching another soul and
remembering…things.”

Oh.
Things
means Cam. I rub my arms from the
sudden chill in the room and nod, relaxing only a bit. “I shouldn’t ask you to
go through this alone. I’m being selfish.” And totally absorbed in my own
problems.

“No.” He stands and crosses the room in three long
strides, where he pulls me to his chest. I melt.

If I didn’t have Josh, I don’t know what I’d do.
Probably go insane worrying about my family. With him, I don’t feel alone. I’m
so lucky to have his love. I nuzzle deeper into his body, his heartbeat a
steady rhythm that seems a part of me as well. I’m glad we retained all our
biological traits, even if it’s just for comfort’s sake. It would be so strange
not to hear a heartbeat. And how could Heaven be Heaven without the ability to
enjoy the taste of chocolate or feel the warmth of the person you love?

“You’re amazing,” he says. “You’ve been through so
much, Grace. And part of it’s my fault, which I’ll never forgive myself for.”

Here it is. I’ve been searching for a way to bring it
up, and he’s done it for me. So why is it still so hard? Drawing a deep breath,
I lunge right in. “I don’t blame you for my death, Josh. It’s the stuff that
happened after that I have a little trouble with.” There, I said it.

What color is left seeps out of his face and his blue
eyes turn to glass. “After?” He swallows.

I nod. It feels good to let out the thoughts I’ve been
avoiding, the niggling feelings of doubt that hover whenever I’m alone and not
distracted by my family. “When you and I—” I pause, feeling the heat in
my cheeks even after all this time with him. Then I make the mistake of looking
into his beautiful eyes. He’s crumbling right in front of me. He knows what I’m
going to say. That I’m going to ask how he could sleep with me, knowing I would
fall. He’d admitted his love, admitted he was a Demon, admitted everything—
except
that if we made love I would be thrown from Heaven like garbage, doomed to work
for Lucifer for the rest of eternity. It had been such a beautiful thing
between us, but the memory is shrouded in betrayal.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. I love you. I know
you’ve changed. I mean, you’re here, right?” I pull back, tortured by the look
on his face. He sacrificed himself to save me and I’m being selfish, fixated on
this one detail. I turn to leave. I need to go find Shona and get over myself.

Josh catches me and turns me to look at him, holding
me at arm’s length. His voice is a croak when he does speak. “Look, Grace…” He
shifts uncomfortably. “Maybe you should stay here so we can talk.”

This is silly. I trust him. I love him. “It’s
nothing,” I reach up to push a dark, renegade curl from his forehead. “I was
only talking about how awful things were, but now they’re okay.”

“Something is not okay. I know you, Grace. I can
tell.”

“If something’s bothering me, it’s my family,
definitely not you.”

He nods, accepting my words. “I know firsthand what
it’s like to go down the wrong path. I hate that you have to see someone you
love do it, knowing you can’t do anything to stop it. I just want to protect
you, Grace.”

My eyes fill with tears yet again. It seems I’m a
waterfall lately. “Josh,” I sigh, stroking his cheek as he leans into my palm,
pressing his eyes closed, as if in prayer. “You have to trust me to make my own
decisions. Especially when it’s something this important. You can’t go
protecting me from everything you think will turn out badly.”

I can’t take the sadness in his eyes so I stand on
tiptoe and kiss him. Electricity flows through me, as it always does when we’re
together. I’m almost content.

“I promise I’ll help tonight,” I say, pulling back and
nodding toward the screen.

“There are certainly a few things I’m going to need
help with tonight,” Josh teases, back to his old self. He wiggles his eyebrows
and I feel my toes curl.

“I meant with the soul search.” But I don’t let go of
him yet.

“Maybe there’ll be time for both?” he asks.

“We’ll see,” I answer, and give him another kiss
before leaving him to it. It wouldn’t be fair to tell him yes. I know it’s been
awhile, but I don’t think I can fully enjoy myself like that. Not when it keeps
bringing back those memories of Keira’s laugh as she told me that Josh drove
the car that killed me. Or the glee on Ms. Alvarez’s face when she tossed me
from Heaven. And I certainly can’t when my family is suffering. It would feel
very…un-Angel-like.

I hug myself, deep in thought as I head down the
breathtaking hallway of Heaven. I’ll never get used to it. The night sky all
around, millions of twinkling stars, and a path that guides you directly where
you want to go without any twists or turns.

Halfway to the gates, I realize that in my emotional
state, I forgot Tommy Two. I thought he might be helpful with greeting some of
the newly dead. Especially the kids. I turn and head back.

“Josh—” I stop mid-sentence when I find the room
empty. The screen is still in front of the couch, but filled only with swirling
colors. Where could he have disappeared to so quickly? I
just
left, and
he said he was going to keep working.

“Show me Josh,” I say softly, scooping up the dog.

The screen settles on the inside of what can only be
one of the five million coffeehouse chains in the U.S. The image is a close up
of a table where Josh sits facing a girl I don’t recognize—a beautiful
girl.

Good thing I don’t get jealous easily. Jealousy
between us would be pretty silly. When a guy dies for you, meeting with some
girl for coffee kind of gets a free pass.

Still, I can’t imagine who she is and what he’s doing—unless…unless
she’s the soul we’re supposed to save! Of course. Wow, that was fast. Maybe it
was a clear-cut thing and there was no competition.

She’s certainly flirting with him—but who
wouldn’t? My guy is hot. It’s hard not to get a pang of jealousy when she
giggles and touches his arm. He leans forward and grabs her hands. He has to be
doing it to play a part. It can’t be because I haven’t been in the mood lately.
We’re in love. Right?

I better remember to warn him not to play the part too
well. Being too nice backfired with Cam when I accidentally led him on.

I shudder, remembering Cam tying me up on the bed.

I turn toward the door, scooping up Tommy Two on my
way. I have to find Shona. It’ll be nice to talk to another girl right now.

Not that I’m jealous.