Before I Wake

my husband used to do it,” she said when my dad approached wielding a spatula and a set of tongs. “But that’s as far as I go. The grill’s all yours.”

“Is Brendon coming?” my dad asked softly, and I glanced at them in surprise. Why would he need to ask her if his own brother was coming to the lake? Had he and my uncle had an argument?

“He said he’d swing by after work,” Harmony said, and the slight flush to her cheeks said much more than her words had.

“What’s wrong?” Tod asked, snatching a chip from the open bag on the table in front of me.

I pulled him close enough to whisper, though no one else could hear me, anyway. “I think your mom’s going out with my uncle.”

Tod laughed. “Yeah. For a couple of months now. Do not ask me how I know.”

“See something you didn’t want to see?”

“Occupational hazard.”

“Is that why he left Sophie at my house last night?”

“He left at, what, nine?” Tod asked, and I nodded. “Mom doesn’t have to be at work till eleven.” He scowled. “Great. Now I need something more pleasant to purge the unwanted visual. Kittens on fire should do the trick.”

“Does Sophie know?” I asked, and Tod shrugged, but I knew the answer before I’d even finished the question. She didn’t know. Nash didn’t, either. If either of them knew, we’d have heard about it during the sleepover.

While my dad and Harmony talked over the grill, Tod, Em, and I sat at the end of the dock with our feet dangling over the water, staring out at the lake while we waited for the burgers to cook. “This is weird,” Em said. “I can’t believe he’s gone.” She pushed her hair behind her shoulders and pulled her knees up to her chest. “If Alec were here, what do you think he’d be doing?”

“Sitting on the picnic table, eating all the cupcakes,” Tod said.

“Telling us how, in the Netherworld, cupcakes are stuffed with entrails and bile instead of cream,” I added, and I could see him saying that so clearly in my head I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“That’s kinda true, though,” Tod said with a sad smile. “Over there, we are the cupcakes. Human cupcakes.”

And Alec would have been able to make us laugh about even such a horrific truth—if I hadn’t cut him open and spilled his bloody filling all over us both.

Fresh tears filled my eyes and I was trying to wipe them away without looking like I was wiping them away when a dark blue sedan squealed into the parking lot, spitting gravel beneath its wheels before swinging into the space between my car and my dad’s. Em stood and took off down the dock. “Jayson’s here!” she called over her shoulder, and I was glad, because now there was someone to comfort her, too, even though Jayson had never met Alec.

“What do you think the appeal is?” Tod said as we watched Jayson get out of his car, grinning like he’d just ridden his first roller coaster. Evidently skipping school was a new thrill for him.

Emma threw her arms around him and kissed him, and he looked surprised by the enthusiasm of her greeting. I wasn’t, though. She’d felt like a fifth wheel—or maybe a seventh wheel—for the past eighteen hours.

“I don’t know, but I hope the appeal is that he’s normal. Both human and alive. I’ve dragged her into enough weird and dangerous crap this year.”

“She would have come willingly, if you hadn’t dragged her,” Tod insisted. “She’s your best friend. Is there anything you wouldn’t do for her?”

“No…”

“Well, that’s obviously mutual.”

When I looked up, I found Emma dragging Jayson down the pier, their footsteps shaking the boards beneath us. Em dropped onto the end of the dock next to me, and Jayson sat on her other side with a nod and a “Hey” to Tod.

Tod returned the casual greeting, and I almost laughed out loud. His regular-guy act was good enough to fool anyone who didn’t know him, but I couldn’t think of him as a regular guy. Yes, I knew he’d gone to a regular high school before he died, and he’d played regular-guy football, just like Nash. And he’d probably done regular-guy stuff like watch sports, and break curfew, and kiss girls—one of my least favorite visuals ever. But I couldn’t see him like that. Tod was anything but normal to me.

“Happy birthday, Kaylee,” Jayson said, leaning around Emma to look at me. “I brought you a gift, but I didn’t see any others, so I left it in my car… .”

“Oh, you didn’t have to bring anything!” I could hear surprise in my own voice. “This is a gift-free party, except for my dad. Because he’s my dad.”

Jayson shrugged. “Well, if you don’t want it, maybe Emma will.”

“Yes. Kaylee’s rejected birthday present. That’s what I want.” She laughed, then pushed him playfully, and Tod pulled me up by one hand.

“Let’s give them some privacy,” he said.

“What about our privacy?” I asked as he tugged me down the pier.

“We can make our own privacy.” His fingers slid between mine, his hand warm in contrast to the cool breeze coming off the lake. “You weren’t serious about the no-presents rule, were you?” he asked.

“Why? Did you get me something? You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Well, it’s not a present in the traditional sense. But it’s something I’ve never given anyone else, and I want you to be the first.”

“We’re not talking about your virginity, are we? Because I happen to know that ship has sailed.” Long before I’d been seaworthy.

“Ha, ha.” We stepped off the dock and onto the sand, and Tod let go of my hand to slide his into his pocket. “Please excuse the lack of wrapping and girlie ribbons… .” He handed me a folded scrap of paper, and the nervous twists of bright blue in his eyes said this gift—whatever it was—was worth as much to him as he obviously hoped it would be to me. In spite of its modest appearance.

My hands shook as I unfolded the paper. It held an address, written in pencil, in Tod’s handwriting. “What is this?”

“This is my place. This is the local reaper headquarters. No one other than my coworkers is supposed to have this address, and I could get into a lot of trouble for giving it to you. But my room is in this building, and I want it to be your room, too, for whenever you need it, whether I’m there or not. If you need to rest, or hide, or cry, or scream, or just want to be by yourself for a little while, you can go there, day or night. No one else can get there. Not even Levi—he doesn’t know which room is mine.”

I felt dizzy, for the first time since I’d died. My stomach was twisting in knots, but they were good knots. “This is like the key to your apartment… .” Only there was no key, because there was no door.

“Yeah. Only more secure. This is a safe place. This is a place no one else can find us. Later tonight, I’ll show you how to find my room inside the building, but for now… Just know it’s your room, too. Our room.”

“You gave me privacy. For my birthday.”

“Um, yeah. Did I mess this up? You’re not really the flowers and jewelry type.”

“It’s perfect. It’s so far beyond perfect it gives all other presents a bad name.” I stood on my toes to kiss him—in public, for the first time since the kiss that had started all the trouble—but my birthday kiss was cut short when someone cursed on my left.

“Well, shit, that can’t be good,” Sabine said.

I dropped onto the balls of my feet, ready to snap at her to leave me and Tod alone. But neither she nor Nash was even looking at us. I turned to see what they were staring at and found an unfamiliar car parked next to Emma’s at the end of the row, a too-thin woman in jeans and a faded T-shirt stepping out of the driver’s seat.

“Who is that?” I asked, and Sabine scowled.

“Tina. My foster mother,” she said through gritted teeth, already stomping toward the woman, leaving me, Tod, and Nash to catch up.

We jogged after her, and were still shouting-distance away when the woman propped skinny hands on bony