Absolution Read online

  The trust in his eyes humbled me, and dropped another weighty cloak of responsibility on my back. I was okay with that. I wasn’t afraid of what it meant.

  Weston slipped his arms around my waist and drew me against him.

  “I need to hold you,” he whispered. Warm tingles raced through my body.

  I returned the embrace. “You feel so good,” he laid his head against mine, sighing.

  He felt good too. I closed my eyes, relieved to have a friend. Mortal comfort and companionship.

  The roar of an engine and the screech of tires over asphalt trumpeted through the air. Weston and I jerked around to see where the sound came from. Britt’s white Mustang barreled toward us.

  Chapter Six

  ____________________

  Weston’s arms snatched me, yanking me away from the side of the truck. We flattened ourselves against the building.

  Britt’s Mustang screeched to a halt, barely missing Weston’s truck.

  “She’s insane,” Weston blew out.

  Britt burst out of her car and wobbled over. The same dark spirits I’d seen in class earlier still leeched her body, stimulating her.

  “You!” She pointed at me, swaying like a blow-up punching toy. “You stay away from him.”

  “You’re out of your mind,” Weston hissed. “You’re drunk.”

  “’Course I’m drunk. ’S her fault.” Britt lunged at me, but tripped on her platform shoe and crashed onto the pavement, coming down flat. Patrons slowed to watch. Britt didn’t move.

  Weston and I exchanged glances.

  I inched forward. “Britt?”

  Gawking passersby annoyed me. Britt remained flat on the filthy gravel.

  “What the hell was she doing?” Weston twitched from head to toe, his face red as blood.

  “She’s pissed, dude.”

  The voice stopped my heart. Brady appeared behind Weston. He leaned casually against the building, one leg bent and propped up, his arms across his chest. Like Albert, he was dressed in black, only his ensemble wasn’t the designer-like suit Albert wore. Brady looked like one of the Beatles in his tight black pants and snug black turtle neck.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded.

  Weston’s angry gaze flicked from prostrate Britt to me. Brady laughed, and came away from the wall, strolling until he stood directly behind Weston’s shoulder.

  “She almost killed us!” Weston shrilled.

  “That’s what you deserve, loser,” Brady hissed into Weston’s ear.

  “Yeah, well, she didn’t.” I had to cool Weston down. “Don’t be mad, okay?” Weston knew I saw evil spirits, but he’d freak if I told him Brady was here. I voted to tell him after the fact. I had to get rid of Brady first.

  “You’re defending her?” Weston almost screeched.

  Brady grinned and circled Britt, stopping at her ankles, his lusty gaze traveling up her bare legs to her hiked-up mini skirt. “Nice.”

  Control, control, control. “No. I just don’t want to fight with you.”

  “Oh, please fight.” Brady clasped his hands at his chest as if begging.

  “Please.”

  Shut up! I thought.

  “Now what?” Weston shifted, set his hands on his hips.

  My mind scrambled. “Let’s get her out of here.”

  “Forget it. She did this to herself.”

  “Does she need some help?” A construction worker dressed in insulated overalls, stained overcoat and knit cap stopped, along with his ogling buddies, all of them trying their best not to stare, fighting the gravitational pull of Britt’s hiked skirt.

  “It’s okay,” I waved them on, hoping they’d split. They hemmed, then continued into the store.

  I didn’t want to go anywhere near Britt with the swarm of evil circling her like vultures honing in on the dead, and Brady’s presence added to the mayhem. What gave him the right to hang around, anyway? I hope he’s not going to make a habit of showing up every time Weston gets mad. That’s all I need.

  “We should put her in her car,” I suggested, then bent down, reaching for Britt.

  “And then what? How about we leave her here. She deserves a reality check.”

  “We can’t leave her in the middle of the parking lot,” I said, tempted by the suggestion. “It’s freezing out here.”

  “I’m not touching her.” Weston’s hands lifted in surrender. I didn’t blame him. But he couldn’t see the black spirits and Brady hovering. Britt remained on the ground, dead to the world.

  “I’ll drive her home if you put her in her car. Let’s go.” I jerked my head in the direction of the Mustang. The gathering crowd thickened. Somebody asked if they should call a doctor and Weston sneered. I told the Samaritan-lady we had everything under control. Still, it wouldn’t be long before management noticed what was going on and called the cops.

  Begrudgingly, Weston slipped his arms beneath Britt and pulled her to her feet. He guided a limp, mumbling Britt to her waiting Mustang. I opened the passenger side door and he put her inside, then pried her arms from his neck. She blubbered into a crumpled heap. He closed the door.

  Brady wagged his brows and morphed into the back seat of the Mustang. My mouth opened to shout at him, but I snapped it shut.

  Weston rounded her car, as if he was going to be the one to drive her home. I raced around the back, meeting him at the driver’s side door. He glared. “What are you doing?”

  “I’ll drive. You’re too angry.” With Brady and those black creatures in the car, who knew what would happen?

  “I can drive without letting my feelings interfere,” Weston whispered with a look around at nosey onlookers.

  My fingers on his chest, I grinned and lightly pushed him back. “You’d trust me to drive your truck? I didn’t think so. I’ll drive Britt home.”

  He pinched his lips, as if fighting a smile. “Guess I’ll follow you.”

  I really didn’t want to get in the car and be locked in such a small space with those disgusting creatures and Brady. Swallowing a nervous knot, I dipped into the driver’s side, and closed the door.

  “Aw, I want Weston to drive,” Brady whined from the back seat. My hands shook as I wrapped my fingers around the steering wheel. “It’d be just like old times.”

  “You’re not getting anywhere near him, loser,” I said, anger bubbling beneath my skin.

  Brady let out a howling laugh. Britt stirred, her head lolling from left to right.

  “You’ve always been kind of dense, Zoe. Don’t know what Weston sees in you. Oh, wait, yes I do. An easy score.”

  My fingers tightened around the wheel. Disgust rolled from my stomach up my throat that I’d ever let Brady touch me, let alone once thought he had any decency inside of him.

  Brady’s attention shifted to Britt, lying semi-conscious in the seat next to mine. His stare grew dark. Britt’s black spirits appeared oblivious to my presence, even though they seemed to be aware of Brady. They turned their heads his direction every now and then, eyes flashing, glimmering at him. Still, the three of them remained wholly concentrated on stimulating Britt.

  “Man she was a wild ride,” Brady’s tone held nostalgia.

  “You’re sick.”

  “No, I’m dead, and I’m damned mad I’m dead, or I could be banging this slut right this very second.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” I snorted. “Kinda hard to do when you don’t have a body anymore.”

  “I’m sitting here aren’t I?” Brady ran his hands down his arms.

  “Yeah, but what you’re feeling isn’t real. It’s just a memory. Sucks for you, Brady.”

  A flash of fear crossed his face and his palms skimmed his thighs. Relief replaced the fear. He leaned forward, but the car didn’t shift at all from the movement, proving to me that Matthias was right about evil not having a body. How had Brady not noticed?

  “Pull the car over and I can show you how real I am.”

  I was ornery enough to bait him. “Why shou
ld I pull over? You want Britt? Take her.”

  His eyes widened for a flash, then slit. “I knew you weren’t all that. See, you like to watch, don’t you?”

  I couldn’t wait for him to realize he didn’t have a body. All those racing male hormones were nothing more than ghosts, or in his case, goblins.

  In a blink, Brady was straddling Britt. His hands roved her body and his tongue grazed his lips. Fascinated, my eyes darted from the road to Brady.

  What was he feeling if not Britt’s flesh? I was astounded. Speechless. Shocked.

  The creatures jumped up and down, rallying in silence.

  Britt coughed and gasped, then jerked upright, eyes wide. Had she felt Brady?

  “Ohh, baby,” Brady oozed, his hands continuing to explore Britt, in spite of her oblivion. When Britt’s gaze met mine, the creatures’ movements slowed. The three parked themselves in eerie stillness on Britt’s head and shoulders, their hollow eyes staring at her as if waiting for her next move.

  Only their talons shifted.

  I swallowed.

  Brady’s strained countenance remained intensely focused on Britt, sending my body into a wave of uncontrollable shivers. “Come on,” Brady growled when she didn’t respond to him. His eyes grew wide and he lifted his hands, looked at them in wonder.

  Britt lunged for the steering wheel. She grabbed hold, causing the car to swerve. My heart stammered.

  “What the hell?” Brady screamed, shaking his hands, as if they were asleep and the action would awaken them. “What. The. Hell!”

  “Britt stop.” I shoved her back.

  She rammed her fist in my cheek. The car jerked when my face took the impact of the blow. I straightened the wheel and jammed my elbow into her head. The black spirits danced and leapt. Britt fell back against the seat in an unconscious heap. Breath raced in and out of my chest.

  Light filled the car and Matthias appeared. He wasn’t sitting, he was simply there, between the front seat and the back, his presence powerful and unyielding to anything physical or otherwise in his way. The black spirits on Britt’s back stood upright, their soulless eyes rounding, their fleshless forms shimmering, then turning matte when their attention locked on Matthias.

  They leapt and jumped, mouths opening and closing in soundless protest.

  Matthias raised his hand in their direction and they vanished.

  He set his penetrating gaze on Brady and horror filled Brady’s astonished face. I sucked in a breath. Brady dissolved.

  “Your friend is out of sorts.”

  “He’s not my friend.”

  “I’m speaking of the young lady.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Matthias, now sitting in the backseat.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” I said. “Sheesh. She’s nuts,” I mumbled, touching my sore jaw. “Between her and Brady, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do.”

  “That Brady’s a smarmy fellow, isn’t he?”

  “Smarmy, sleazy—you name it. I hope he’s not going to be showing up all the time now.” I crammed my hand into my hair. My gaze latched with Matthias’ through the rearview mirror. My heart sunk. “Is he?”

  “I told you, the fight for souls is relentless.”

  My cell phone vibrated, and I fished it out of my pocket. Weston.

  “You okay?” His voice was strung with worry. “What happened? I saw her attack you. What a freaking psycho. We should have left her in the parking lot. Looked like she was trying to kill you.”

  “She probably was.” I glanced at Britt out cold in the seat next to me.

  “You should have let me drive.”

  “And take a chance she’d try to hurt you? Forget it. See you at her house.”

  “I don’t like this, Zoe.”

  My eyes met Matthias’ through the rearview mirror.

  “She’s unconscious now. I’ll be okay.”

  Weston sighed audibly. I snapped the phone shut, returning my attention to Matthias in the backseat. “Would she have killed me?” I asked.

  The sparkle in his eyes disappeared. “Her mind is not her own.”

  “Yeah… I know.”

  “And already you’ve forgiven her. That’s my bearcat.”

  “Forgiving’s easy when you’re around,” I smirked.

  “You would have forgiven her even if I wasn’t here,” his smooth voice dripped truth into me. I didn’t like the way Britt chose to live, but I wasn’t taking her assaults, both verbal and physical, to heart.

  “She needs help,” I murmured.

  “She’ll get it.”

  I marveled at his certainty. “I’m taking her home no matter what the consequences.”

  “She won’t see it like that at first, but someday, she will thank you.”

  I sighed. “She’ll hate me.”

  “Better she gets help than she loses control and ends up in an early grave, condemning herself.”

  “Condemn?” That’s a strong word.

  Taking the life of another is not something to trifle with.

  Is your father… condemned?

  A long silence drew between us. Matthias’s gaze remained with mine—strong and undeviating. “It’s not over yet.”

  “I can’t believe you still think he can change. I don’t know, he’s pretty far gone if you ask me.” Immediately I wished I could retract my observation.

  Though I found it unfathomable, Matthias still loved a man who had sent him to his death, ending his young life of twenty-one years over an unpaid debt.

  “Would you ever give up on Luke?” he asked.

  “Of course not, but Luke’s not a murderer.”

  “You believe there is good in Luke deep down, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, of course. I’ve seen it.”

  His gaze drew sharp. “As have I… seen good in Pop.”

  Matthias had shared with me a handful of his memories—both happy and sad events that flashed into his mind, part of the fascinating miracle of him being my guardian. I’d slipped into Matthias’ conscience and been Matthias, reliving moments between his father and him—even his death, a stark, horrid moment that still wracked me with shudders.

  “And you forgave him.”

  “That doesn’t mean there isn’t a price to pay. In Pop’s case, he chose to lose himself to evil regardless of my forgiveness.”

  I swallowed, glanced in the rearview mirror. Weston’s silver truck was right behind me. “He came back last night.”

  Matthias’ disapproval of Albert blasted out in the car in invisible force, filling the space. He remained silent.

  “After you left I found him in Luke’s room. Luke was close to relapsing.

  I did what you did. I told him to leave.”

  “There’s no magic in the words, Zoe. It’s the strength inside of you that gives you power.” Matthias leaned forward, his presence whooshing through my being like a gust of soothing wind. My breath caught.

  “Wow. I like it when you do that,” I said.

  “So, you’re telling me you don’t need me anymore?” he murmured.

  “No way am I telling you that.” I turned on Britt’s street, my heart sinking that Matthias would leave soon. Maybe if I kept talking about his father, he’d stay.

  I took my foot off the gas pedal and the car slowed. I avoided Matthias’

  blue eyes in the rearview mirror.

  It doesn’t matter that you don’t look at me. Your thoughts are mine.

  Dangit! Heat rushed my neck and cheeks. “I can’t help that I want you around,” I mumbled.

  “You’ve got me when you need me.”

  “I want you even when I don’t need you though.” I sighed. “That’s the problem.”

  “Well,” Matthias’ voice softened. “The feeling is mutual.”

  “What do you say I dump Britt, take her car out on the freeway and drive it off the nearest overpass?” I teased.

  Matthias frowned. “Not funny.”

  Britt’s red brick house came up on the
left. Her dad’s pearly Escalade sat in the driveway. Her mouth hung open, drool leaking down one side onto her chin. Smudged, black mascara had dried in blotches on her pink cheeks. My jaw started to ache. I rubbed it.

  “Does it hurt?” Matthias asked.

  “A little.”

  He reached forward and his fingers grazed my jaw, drawing away the pain like a mist evaporating beneath the sun.

  Thank you.

  My pleasure.

  I parked and turned off the engine. “Now what? You cast your spell on her and she’s out like a light.”

  “A spell?” he said with a smile. “I’m no magician, Zoe.” Matthias lifted his hand, his long, elegant fingers stretched out six inches above her head.

  “Way better than a magician.” I was awed that Britt now stirred.

  Matthias withdrew his hand. The parting look of yearning in his eyes melted my insides. “Till we meet again.” He leaned forward and I braced for a kiss. His warm lips pressed against my cheek.

  My body swirled in deliciousness. “Good bye.”

  “What the hell?” Britt bounced upright, blinking, taking in her surroundings.

  Matthias was gone.

  “You brought me home?” she demanded. “You really are a snitch.”

  “Whatever. You’d be face down in the parking lot of Wendy’s with your fancy thong on display if it wasn’t for me.”

  “Shut up.” She closed her eyes, and gripped her head and leaned back on the seat.

  The front door of her house opened and her father, tall, with sandy blond hair like Britt’s, marched toward us. He wore a sleek power suit in soft dove, a periwinkle shirt and red tie. The hard lines of his face prepared me for anger. But his gaze was on Britt who, upon hearing the pound of his stride, opened her eyes. She cursed under her breath and shrunk in the seat. “Thanks a lot, loser,” she growled.

  Mr. Walker yanked open the passenger side door and fumed. “What is going on, young lady?”

  “Um, Zoe gave me a ride home because—”

  “Because you’re drunk?” He reached in and hauled her to her feet. “The school called.”

  Britt wrenched free, her face flushing red. Her gaze darted over her shoulder at Weston getting out of his truck. “I’m not drun—” Britt heaved, the yellowish liquid spewing onto her father’s expensive suit in sticky chunks.