Chasing Before (11 page)

Nate scrutinizes me as I process what I’ve seen. It’s funny that Neil and I seem to have had the same differences of opinion on Earth regarding our living arrangements as we do here. If I only knew how it resolved then, it might help me form a strategy now, and allow Neil and me to get closer. Nate’s thoughts about Gracie hint at something deeper, but I still haven’t gotten any answers to what would cause Neil to shout out her name in Kiara’s healing session.

“I need to view more.” I lift up my palm so I can connect again.

“Nope, not part of the deal.” Nate shakes his head slowly. His patronizing tone makes me want to punch him.

“I could do you two favors.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Fine.” And then I ask him what I swore I wouldn’t. “What about Gracie? Why was she such a big deal to you two?”

“You need to ask Neil.”

“He didn’t seem like he wanted to talk about her.”

“Give him time. It’s a traumatic time in his past.” Nate pats my arm. “I can tell you that Gracie’s the reason Neil doesn’t like me much.”

So Gracie caused a rift between the brothers. At least that’s a small nugget of truth I can work with.

“Well, did Neil ever tell me about Gracie when I was alive?” If I can view Neil’s confession in one of Nate’s memories later, then maybe I don’t have to press Neil for answers now.

“Not when I was around.”

I sigh in frustration. “Can’t you tell me anything? Did Neil and I move in together? Did we go to college? Did we get married?” This is torture.

“You don’t want to know what I know, trust me.”

“What do you mean by that?” All my nonexistent blood rushes to my head. Maybe I’m about to cross a line that I shouldn’t, but right now I don’t care. I need to know. “Stop teasing me and tell me!”

Nate grabs my shoulders. “Remember, you’re the one who forced this out of me. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

I nod, gulping.

Nate lets go of me and steps back, opening the door to leave. “As far as I know, you and Neil broke up.”

eleven

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ‘as far as I know’?” I run after him and block his way out.

“It means that things got bad between you two. And then I left town. But I didn’t need to be psychic to see you were headed to Splitsville.”

“But you must have heard something later, from your dad maybe?”

“Hey, it might not have worked out then, but that doesn’t mean you have to break it off with him here. Don’t overthink it.” He taps me twice on the nose again. “Neil’s the type who absorbs himself in other’s problems so he doesn’t have to deal with his own. He’s a fixer. But who will fix him?” Nate swishes past. “I’ve got to jet. But I’ll be back
at the morning bells to pick you two up for the career fair.”

As Nate walks down the hallway, I stare daggers into his back. All he really gave me in exchange for some future unspecified favor was a look at twenty-five lost minutes of my life. Like the roses he gave me at the hospital that day, the memory is fraught with thorns. They poke at my mind, demanding answers. Nate says Neil and I couldn’t go the distance. If we broke up on Earth, it could be only a matter of time before we implode here as well. I can’t allow that to happen. Not after pining for him for what seemed like centuries in Level Two and finally reuniting with him. Neil and I are good together. I feel it through my entire being. But still, the thorns draw blood and create even more doubts in my mind.

Neil’s closed door taunts me. He’s right behind it, and yet right now he feels miles away.

Retreating back into my room, I push aside the table and chair and walk to the bed.

I slip under the covers and close my eyes, trying to concentrate on one thing and one thing only: the look Neil gets on his face right before he kisses me. But it’s no use. All my questions and insecurities burn within me, and there’s no way I’ll be able to meditate my way to a state approaching sleep. If I even knew how.

I pick up my muse workbook and thumb through the pages, and settle on the chapter that details the history of the muses, starting all the way back in ancient Greece. It’s like reading mythology, except that this part at least seems
to be actually true. I spend the rest of the night caught up in the intrigue and inspiration of muses throughout the centuries. It distracts me from thinking any more about the implications of all the conversations I had today.

Eventually the morning bells ring out, signaling the dawn of my third day in Level Three. I rub my eyes and trudge over to Neil’s room. How is he going to act this morning? Hot or cold?

As soon as I enter his room, I get my answer. He rushes over and kisses me, running his hands up and down my back and leading me backward until we fall into his bed.

But I can’t lose myself in the sensation like I always did before, and I don’t know what’s wrong with me. His lips are as warm and inviting as ever, and his fingertips are whisper soft against my skin. I’m doing exactly what Nate warned me not to—I’m overthinking things.

I break away from Neil, and he gives me a questioning look.

“Why don’t you get along with Nate?” I ask, because I’m so great lately at ruining moments and blurting out things that should stay locked away. Maybe Neil can give me some tips on how to compartmentalize thoughts and repress memories.

Neil frowns. “Because Nate’s only objective is to stir up trouble. He loves messing with people. Our family counselor diagnosed him with abandonment issues.”

“You never mentioned him. Your family had only one photo of him up.”

Neil gets up off the bed and sits in the chair facing me. “We didn’t even know Nate existed until I was fourteen. His mom contacted my dad and told him he was Nate’s father and that now was the time to step up. Nate was already seventeen, and she didn’t want to deal with him anymore. Nate stayed with us a year, and that was the worst year of my life.”

He looks so wrecked, I almost feel guilty that I forced the issue, but I’m also relieved that he’s talking. That he’s finally sharing some of his own pain instead of only absorbing mine. “But maybe he’s changed for the better,” I offer. As much I wish that were true, based on last night I can’t imagine it is.

Neil grabs my hands. “Trust me, Nate poisons everything he touches. Don’t let him play mind games with you.”

“You can tell me anything. You can tell me about Gracie.” I hold my metaphorical breath.

Neil leans back in his chair, letting go of me in the process. He obviously doesn’t relish talking to me about her, so he’s probably throwing me a tiny bone to get me off his back. “Gracie went to our church. She was a year older than me. Beautiful.” The longing tone of his voice when he says “beautiful” makes my heart flutter. “I think all of us were in love with her. She was always nice enough, but she had this way of avoiding our clumsy attempts to get closer to her. She didn’t want to date anyone. Until Nate.” His face darkens.

“So she went out with Nate, then?”

He nods. “Long story short: Nate used her, like he uses
everyone. She was so upset that she stopped coming to church, and even started skipping school. And Nate didn’t care. He left town the day he turned eighteen and never looked back.”

“But you cared.” The parallels between Gracie and me are obvious. We were both broken. It’s a big leap to take, but maybe Neil’s initial interest in me had to do with the fact that he couldn’t have the girl he really wanted to fix.

Neil smiles sadly. “Yeah. At the time, too much. I told you once, at my house, if it hadn’t been for Eagle Scouts and my guitar, I don’t know what I would’ve done. Hunted Nate down, maybe tried to punch an apology out of him.”

His statement comes with such a sweet mix of vulnerability and bravado, I sweep him up into a tight hug. I ignore the stab of jealousy.

There’s an insistent knock, and the door opens. I break away from Neil reluctantly, turning to find Nate. “Hey, Little Brother. Am I interrupting something?”

“Good morning.” Neil’s greeting is more cheerful than I expected. I’m irritated by Nate’s timing, but Neil seems almost relieved. If hanging out with Nate is preferable to talking about Gracie, then it’s even worse than I thought.

“Career fair today, and I told Libby I’d take you.” Nate crosses his arms. “I’m due at the demon hunter booth, so let’s go.”

“We’ve already decided to be muses,” I say. “So we’ll stay here and you can go on without us.” And then Neil and I can continue our talk.

“We should go,” Neil says. “Kiara is expecting us at the healers’ booth.”

Unfortunately, I can’t argue with that reasoning unless I want to look like a total ingrate. But when Neil reaches for my hand as we follow Nate out the door, I pull it away and pretend to examine my nail polish.

As we walk toward Assembly Hill, Nate acts the part of a perfect older brother, pointing out various landmarks and telling us more about the various afterlife positions. “Have you read your copy of the ‘Guide to Afterlife Occupations’?” he asks.

Neil was pretty absorbed in it yesterday before class, but I haven’t done more than skim it. “No,” I say at the same time Neil says, “Yes.”

Neil squints and then pulls out the rumpled copy from his back pocket and hands it to me.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, why is ‘guardian angel’ on here?” Neil asks Nate. “Don’t actual angels do that?”

“Surprisingly, no. Guardian angel is the most boring job you can get, and actual angels couldn’t be bothered. Sure, once in a while you get to save someone’s life, but what does that get you? A pat on the back from your supervisor? A plaque on the wall? No, thanks. But it’s the job with the most openings because of all those desperate people on Earth. The recruiters are out at the career fair in full force. Steer clear, is my advice.”

Nate is right about the guardian angel recruiters. When we reach the fair, which is a jumble of plywood booths that
resemble street-side lemonade stands, recruiters in white suits and dresses descend upon us like vendors in a third world country, shouting their slogan “Protect and Serve!” and waving white sheets of paper in our faces. Taking Nate’s advice, we don’t respond to any of them and keep our faces resolute, as if we know exactly where we’re headed.

Once we’ve lost the recruiters in the crowd, we relax again. At a booth flying a yellow flag, Nate ducks under a support beam. “This is me.” He positions himself next to a girl built like a professional weight lifter. Her black hair is tied up in knots and pushed off her tan forehead with a yellow headband. She rifles though a stack of folders, so intent on her task that Nate has to poke her arm to get her attention. “Shan, meet Neil and his girlfriend, Felicia,” he says.

Shan salutes us. “Interested in demon hunting?” When I shake my head, she licks her thumb and returns to her paperwork, pushing half the stack over to Nate.

Nate groans. “Okay, then. See you later, Little Brother.”

Neil and I spend the morning and early afternoon visiting the various booths and listening patiently to the different groups’ sales pitches and stories of life on the job. Finally we come to a red booth at the edge of the fair. The sign says
HEALERS
with the slogan first in Latin and then in English:
Primum non nocere.
First, do no harm. Odd that the slogan isn’t in other languages too. No one is here to greet us and try to sell us on their profession.

“I wonder where they are,” Neil says. “Kiara said she would be here.”

He cranes his neck to look behind the booth. “Oh my God!” he breathes, his eyes widening in horror.

“What?” I ask, alarm racing through me. I press myself against the booth to get a better view. What I see would make me throw up if I actually had anything in my stomach—Kiara lying on a red blanket, her body slashed and seeping blood.

twelve

NEIL SKIRTS AROUND THE BARRIER and dives over to Kiara. I’m right behind him. There’s blood trickling from her mouth, and she stares up at us in a daze of pain and confusion. If a powerful healer like Kiara is bleeding, this has to be the work of the Morati, who can apparently make anyone believe anything. The skin on my neck prickles, and I turn my head to scan the immediate area, but there is no one.

“What happened?” Neil kneels beside her, his hands hovering like he doesn’t know if he should touch her. “Is there anything we can do? Where are the other healers? You need a healer!”

She coughs, grabs Neil’s forearm. “Keegan. Where is he?”

“I don’t know.” Neil materializes a pillow and props her
head on it, trying to offer her a small comfort. I take a corner of the blanket she’s lying on and press it to her abdomen, where the most blood is.

“Protect. Him. Promise me.” Her eyelids flutter.

“I will,” Neil promises. “What happened?”

“All the healers. Have been murdered.”

“Who did this to you?” I ask her.

Her head lolls to the side, her strength at an end. “Angel . . .” The word is so soft, I almost don’t even catch it. The light leaves her eyes, and I watch helplessly until her body disappears, gone now. Maybe gone forever.

“Did she say ‘angel’?” asks Neil, his voice wet. He stares in disbelief at Kiara’s bloody handprint on his skin, and falls back against the wall of the booth.