Soul Crossed by Lisa Gail Green

out—I’ve left just in time. I head toward the place Keira and I share.
    I sit on the couch and run my hands back through my hair. I have hours ahead of me until dawn. Plenty of time to watch the gruesome pictures etched in my mind. Plenty of time to sit and wonder why I had to be such a screw up in real life and land myself in this situation.
    Keira has other ideas. She materializes in my lap, straddling me and leaning her arms across my chest. She rests her chin there and looks up at me, excitement dancing in her eyes.
    “What do you want?” I ask.
    “I have some information,” she teases.
    “Good for you,” I say.
    “You know, at first I was quite upset. When I saw my target walk away from that bomb without a scratch.” She waits for my reaction.
    “Your bomb?” I ask.
    “Well, not exactly mine. I can’t do direct damage. I convinced someone else to do it. A guy I’ve been seeing from the club. He’s my assignment.”
    “Good. So now he can be the Antichrist, and I can move on.”
    “No such luck. Lucifer already has his soul—he died in the blast—but the whole point was for him to kill off this one goody-two-shoes. Marina Klein.”
    “So, you didn’t get her?” I find myself interested despite all the warning bells going off in my head.
    “No. But see, the weird thing is that she was pretty close to the blast. By all rights she should have been shredded to a pulp. When I went to check, right away, she was on the verge of death. Her arm was torn clear off. Blood and guts everywhere. I would have stayed to watch, but there was this cute fireman.”
    “I don’t understand.” I realize as I say it that I am falling right into her trap, but I want to know. “How can she still be alive?”
    “Only one possibility.” She wants me to ask. I see it in her eyes, and I am afraid. I see Grace in my mind. Grace, miraculously unharmed after being ripped from my arms by the force of the blast. I don’t recall a drop of blood, a single scratch.
    Keira can wait no longer. She drives in the knife. “An Angel saved her.”
    “An Angel?” I ask.
    “Grace is an Angel.”

Chapter 28
Grace
    I’m on the stoop when the headlights pull into the lot. I wait by the door with my arms wrapped around my knees. The night is cold, but I’ve brought the blanket with me. I hope Fireman John won’t mind. I doubt he had time to notice that I took it. I’m drained from all of the energy I expended healing people at the club, but I am determined to accomplish my task. I’ve had a taste of what will happen if I fail. Tonight’s event would be like a trip to Disneyland in comparison.
    I know Cam is still awake because I saw a light go out inside not five minutes ago. He told me about the way his mom constantly puts him down. I picture him pretending to sleep now so he doesn’t have to face her. Even knowing what he’s capable of, I can’t help feeling sorry for him.
    I jump to my feet when she gets to the porch, and she stares like she can’t believe what she’s seeing. I toss the blanket back to the ground.
    “Hello, Mrs. Frasier. I’m Grace Howard.”
    She continues to stare.
    “I’m so sorry to barge over here this late, but I didn’t know when else I could catch you. See, I’m a friend of your son’s, and I really wanted to meet you.”
    “It’s three o’clock in the morning. Come back some other time.” She turns the key in the lock and hurries into the house. But I’m too fast for her, and I’m through the door before she can protest.
    “I’ll make some tea,” I offer, heading for the little kitchen. In truth, I have no idea where anything is, but I’ll figure it out. I just have to make enough noise to get Cam out here.
    “Cam! Get out here!” Scratch that off the list. He’s out in seconds, dark hair hanging in his face, wearing only pajama bottoms that show just how thin he really is. If he’s embarrassed, he doesn’t show it. He actually seems rather amused. Maybe she isn’t as bad