If I Die

“We’re so pleased to have you on board, Kaylee,” she said, folding her copy of my contract into thirds while I folded the hospital gown and laid it on the empty bed, glad to be wearing real clothes again, even if they’d been “borrowed” from some other patient. “We’ll be in touch very soon about your first assignment.”

I didn’t care that she was pleased. I didn’t give a damn about the assignment. I just wanted to go home.

“Are you ready?” Levi asked, watching me closely through his dead child eyes, and it occurred to me for the first time how much he and I had in common. I’d lived longer, but he’d been dead longer. And someday I might catch up to him.

“Yeah.” I accepted the hand he held out, then took one final glance around the empty hospital room we’d appropriated for my statement to the police. “Get me out of here.”

I closed my eyes and waited for the dizziness and disorientation that usually accompanied reaper-travel. But I felt nothing. The first indication I had that we’d left the hospital was the change in temperature. Then the whisper of hushed voices.

I opened my eyes, still holding Levi’s hand. We stood in Nash’s kitchen, alone, but I could hear movement and voices from the living room. And crying. Everyone was here, because my house was the scene of a double homicide, my mattress still soaked with two types of blood—one of them mine.

“How much do they know?” I asked, still invisible and inaudible as long as I held his hand.

“Only that Nash has been released. I thought you’d want to tell them the rest yourself.”

I nodded. “Thanks.” Then I let go of his hand.

“Good luck, Kaylee,” Levi said. Then he disappeared.

I took a deep breath. Then I took another. I’d figured out quickly how to make my lungs work, but the process was no longer automatic, because it was no longer necessary. But breathing made me feel more…normal, so I took one more breath, then pushed open the swinging kitchen door and stepped into the living room.

Emma was the first to look up, from an armchair in one corner, while my dad and Harmony held one another, her head on his shoulder, their faces red and tear-streaked.

It broke my heart to see my father cry.

“Kaylee?” Emma said. Her jaw dropped open, and Harmony sat up straight, staring at me. Then my father’s gaze met mine, and I burst into tears.

“Kay?” He was there in an instant, feeling my arms, holding my face. Trying to convince himself that I was real. I couldn’t say anything—couldn’t think of what to say—so I hugged him instead, squeezing him as hard as I could, breathing him in until he clutched me back, finally convinced.

“What happened?” he asked, on the tail of the most relieved sob I’d ever heard. “You died. I saw you die.” They hadn’t fixed his memory—I’d asked them not to.

“I made a deal, Dad. I had to, to make things right.”

“What kind of deal?”

“Aiden,” Harmony said from behind him, and her voice was so somber, so heartbroken, that I let go of him and looked up to find her watching me, blond curls in disarray, blue eyes so full of grief I could hardly stand to look at them. She didn’t know about Tod yet—not for sure. Not if Levi hadn’t told her. So was she grieving for me? “She signed on with the reapers.”

“Did you…?” my dad asked, turning back to me in horror, and I shook my head.

“Not exactly. I’ll explain it all later, but for now, can we just…” But I didn’t have any way to finish that sentence.

“But you’re back, right?” Emma asked, still standing across the room. She looked pale, and confused, and a little scared. “However you did it, you’re really back?”

“Not quite as good as new, but yeah. I’m back.” I held my arms out and she ran into them, squeezing me so tight I was almost glad I didn’t need to breathe.

“I woke up, and he was on your bed, and Sophie was screaming!” she sobbed into my hair. “And there was so much blood, and you were gone!”

And Emma and Sophie were all alone with a dead incubus, and they had no idea what had happened. They must have been terrified.

“Beck’s dead,” I said, holding her while she cried. “Everything’s going to be fine. Different. But fine.” That’s what I’d been telling myself over and over for the past few hours, while I waited for Madeline to get everything set up. While I waited for word from Levi, which never came. “How’s Sophie?” I asked my dad, without letting go of Emma.

“Traumatized, but she’ll be fine. Your uncle’s decided to tell her everything. The secrets have become too much for them both.”

I nodded. It was overdue.

Harmony watched me over Emma’s shoulder, arms wrapped around her own stomach, like something hurt deep inside. I wanted to hug her, but I wasn’t sure she’d want to touch me after what I’d done. I wanted apologize for what I’d put her through. For what I’d let happen to her sons, after she’d already lost so much. But I didn’t have the words to make either of us feel better.

“They were supposed to release Nash…” I said finally, when Em let me go.

Harmony nodded. “Sabine went to pick him up from questioning half an hour ago. He…he didn’t want me to come.” She glanced at the ground, then back up at me. “They said he’d been cleared, but they didn’t say how.”

“I gave a statement to the police. There’s going to be a story about it on the news tonight. They’re going to say there was a mix-up at the hospital and that the reports of my death were made in error.” That was almost a direct quote, from Madeline. As was the next part. “Arlington Memorial is telling reporters I was transferred to an undisclosed hospital for privacy, because of the high-profile nature of my case.” A sixteen-year-old girl attacked and nearly killed in her own home by a male teacher… Evidently that was a brow-raiser. “And I’m going to be fine.”

Before anyone could come up with a response beyond utter, speechless surprise, a car rumbled to a stop outside, and Harmony leaned over the couch to peek out the front window. “It’s Nash…” She rubbed her hands on her jeans nervously, then opened the front door. A minute later, Sabine led Nash in with one arm around his waist. He looked sick and exhausted, like he was the one who’d almost died.

Nash froze when he saw me, and anger raged in his eyes. He let go of Sabine and glared at me, and I felt my father at my back, a silent, solid presence, which Nash didn’t even seem to notice. “What the hell did you do?” he demanded, his voice low and rough, but blessedly free of Influence.

“I told them you didn’t do it. I cleared you,” I said, unable to quash the guilt I was drowning in with every word.

“You framed me for a double murder,” Nash spat, and Sabine glared at me from his side, her eyes dark and even scarier than usual. “Why, Kaylee?”

“I’m so sorry,” I said, tears filling my eyes. But there was nothing I could do or say to make things right between me and Nash. Not now. Not after everything we’d done to each other. How was it possible that a relationship I’d once thought was meant to be could have spawned so much pain? Addiction. Lies. Betrayal. Unfaithfulness. Manipulation by Influence. And now suspicion of two murders. We couldn’t have hurt each other worse if we’d been trying.

“I’m so sorry, Nash,” I said again. Because I had to try. “Beck made me. He had a knife, and he was going to—” But I couldn’t finish that thought. I didn’t want Emma to know what Beck had threatened to do to her and Sophie. Ever. “I’m so, so sorry.” And I’d be paying for what I’d done to him with every single day of my afterlife.

“Nash, she died,” Emma said softly. “That bastard stabbed her and tried to steal her soul.”

Sabine’s eyes widened, and I could see some of her anger fade, but Nash…

“What soul?” Nash stomped past me unsteadily on his way to his room, and we all stared after him.

“He doesn’t mean that,” Harmony said, and my father wrapped one arm around her in sympathy. “He’s…not himself.”

I nodded. It was my fault Nash wasn’t himself, but I couldn’t quite believe that he didn’t mean it. Wouldn’t I hate him if he’d framed me for murder? Hadn’t I hated him just a little, after what happened in the parking lot? And that was nothing, compared to what I’d done.