Читать книгу Soul Screamers Collection - Rachel Vincent - Страница 50

“WAIT, DEKKER MEDIA is blackmailing kids into selling their souls?” Nash looked as horrified as I felt.

“Honestly, I doubt we all had to be blackmailed.” Addison leaned back in the hotel chair and ran her palms nervously over designer jeans-clad thighs.

Nash glanced across the coffee table from her to Tod. “But how does that benefit the company?”

“Greed, plain and simple. Right?” I looked to Addy for confirmation.

She shrugged and swallowed thickly, like her dinner was trying to come back up. “That’s my guess. I mean, if we’re rich and famous, so are the suits and pencil pushers, right?”

Nash frowned. “So what if their stars leave the corporation? Go mainstream, like Eden did?”

Addison crossed her arms over her chest, probably to keep her hands from fidgeting. “Eden went mainstream on-screen two years ago, but only after six years and three contracts with Dekker, during which she brought in cash faster than any other child star in history. But she’s still on their record label, and so am I.”

The singer inhaled deeply, as if her next words would be difficult to say. “When you sign with Dekker, even if you’re not selling your soul, you’re selling out. They get most of us before we hit puberty, and you become whatever they want you to be. They design your look, cast you in their shows, and put you in at least one made-for-TV movie a year. The movies themselves don’t make much, but the merchandising brings in some serious cash.” She sighed and began ticking points off on her fingers. “They pick the songs you’ll record, schedule your appearances, and book your tours. They’ll even choose your haircut unless your agent is a real shark. But most of the agents are in John Dekker’s pocket, too, because they want clients who have guaranteed careers.”

So. Creepy. Dekker Media was starting to sound scarier than the Netherworld.

“Okay, maybe I’m misunderstanding, but we’re talking about the Dekker Media, right? The child-friendly, shiny-happy sitcoms? With the cartoon squirrel and the squeaky-clean animated fairy tales? That Dekker Media is actually reaping the souls of its stars in exchange for commercial success?”

Addison’s lip curled into a bitter smile. “Ironic, isn’t it?”

I didn’t know how to answer. Until they grew up and went mainstream, Dekker’s stars didn’t even bare their midriffs. Yet they were all soulless shells of humanity. Irony didn’t even begin to cover it.

And I’d thought the whole bean sidhe wail thing was weird….

Tod shot a smile of support at Addison, and Nash rubbed his face with both hands. Acid churned in my stomach, threatening to devour me from the inside out, and the very air tasted bitter, heavy with the aftertaste of such sour words. But I had to ask.

“Addison, how long has this been going on? This soul trafficking?”

She shrugged and pulled a strand of white-blond hair over her shoulder, twisting the end of it as she spoke. “I don’t know, but rumor has it a couple of their stars from the fifties sold out, back when they were still broadcasting in black and white. Who was the girl who did all those bonfire slasher movies after she left Dekker?”

“Campfire Stalker movies,” Tod corrected.

“Yeah, those. That girl sold her soul. And she’s getting old now….” Addison’s voice trailed off, but the horror on her face was easy to read.

“Guys, this is much bigger than we thought.” I crossed my arms over my chest, glancing from one somber, shocked face to the next. “Too big.” The thought of tracking down one hellion with a secondhand soul was scary enough. But I had no idea how to go up against the Netherworld and Dekker Media over an arrangement they’d evidently had going for more than half a century.

All we could really do was take Addison to the Netherworld so she could enforce the out-clause.

“So, what’s the deal with this out-clause? What happens if you ask for your soul back?”

“They take everything.” Tod stood and waved one arm to indicate the hotel suite, and Addison’s entire career, then crossed the room toward a small refrigerator against one wall. “Everything she’s worked for will just be … gone.”

“If she wasn’t prepared for that, she shouldn’t have sold her soul,” Nash snapped, his irises a churning sea of brown and green. But I knew he wasn’t so much mad at Addy as he was worried about us. In his opinion, risking two mostly innocent lives and one afterlife for a single compromised soul made little sense.

I was starting to agree with him. I wanted to help Addy, but not if she wasn’t willing to help herself. What were fame and fortune compared to an eternity of torture? “That’s kind of how the whole contract thing works, Addison. You fulfill it, or you have to pay back everything they’ve given you. But isn’t your eternal soul worth it?”

She blinked at me, and her tears finally overflowed. “It’s not about the money, or even the fame. There are days I’d like to trade my face in for one no one’s ever seen.” Addison swiped tears from her cheeks with both hands, smearing expertly applied eyeliner in the process, and I pushed a box of tissues across the table toward her.

“So, what is it about?”

She took a deep breath. “If I demand my soul back, they’ll take back everything I ever got as a result of signing that contract—and everything anyone else ever got from it through me. They’ll ruin me, but the fallout will hit my agent, my lawyer, my publicist, and everyone who ever worked for me. It’ll devastate my whole family.” She sniffled, but now there was a sharp edge of anger in her voice. “My mom. Regan. My dad, and whatever twenty-year-old he’s shacked up with this week. And I’m not just talking about money. We’ve been poor, and we can be poor again. I’m talking debt, disgrace, and public humiliation, a thousand times worse than any of them would have suffered if I’d turned down the original offer.”

Nash’s eyes narrowed as Tod kicked the fridge shut and returned with four cans of diet Coke, evidently all Addy kept on hand. “They can’t do that. Can they?”

Addison laughed bitterly, and accepted the can Tod handed her. “You remember Whitney Lance? Lindy Cohen? Between the two of them, they have three divorces, seven arrests, five stints in rehab, and two children taken away by the courts. And it gets much worse. Others have had nude photo scandals, public breakdowns, and weeks spent in the psychiatric ward. Carolina Burke served two years for tax evasion, and Denison Clark was arrested for drunk driving two months before his twenty-first birthday. Then again for statutory rape six months later.”

“Yeah, but they all actually did those things, right?” Nash popped open his can, looking less sympathetic by the moment. “Please tell me you don’t have an arrest record or a love child hidden away somewhere.”

“Of course not.” Addy’s eyes flashed in anger, and I was glad to see it. If she couldn’t stand up to us, how could she possibly have enough nerve to demand her soul back from a hellion?

“Well, if you haven’t given them any rope, how are they supposed to hang you?”

“I’m not perfect, Nash!” Addison used the arms of her chair to shove herself to her feet and stood staring down at him. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had a drink. Or that you’re a virgin.”

Nash’s face hardened, but he remained silent.

“My contract keeps me bubble wrapped, but if I get my soul back, not only will they strip the padding, they’ll start throwing knives at me. They’ll twist every decision I make and hurl it back at me. Every drink I take will be a public binge. Every relationship I get into will be a disaster played out in full color on newsstands all over the world. Exes will sell stories and pictures to magazines.” She was pacing now, words falling from her lips almost faster than I could understand them. “The paparazzi will get shots of my mom all strung out. Hell, she’ll probably go to prison for buying narcotics online, or something like that. My dad’s DUIs will catch up with him, and without me to bail him out when he gets in over his head, his creditors will eat him alive. And I don’t even want to know what’ll happen to Regan. She just scored a role in a new tween drama. Her career will be over before it begins.”

Addison fell into the chair again and practically melted into the upholstery. “They’ll drive me crazy, and that will only fuel the media frenzy.”

I leaned back, trying to absorb it all. Trying to imagine my own life under the microscope, my every indiscretion on display. “Okay, yes, it sounds bad. But your parents dug their own holes, and you can’t hold yourself responsible when they fall in.” I popped open my own can and took a sip, still thinking. “Are poverty and embarrassment really worse than eternal torture?”

Addy shook her head halfheartedly. “No, and I know I probably deserve whatever I get. But Regan doesn’t, and neither does anyone else I wind up hurting.” She met my gaze, her pale blue eyes swimming in tears again. “Remember last year, when Thad Evans flipped his car? He killed two people and messed up his own face for good when he went through the windshield. Then he lost nearly everything he owned in lawsuits from the dead kids’ parents, and the rest of it to crooked accountants and lawyers. And what about—”

“Whoa, wait a minute.” I rubbed my temples with both hands, fighting off a headache from information overload as everything she’d told us finally began to sink in. “Are you saying that all the Dekker stars with wholesome images and squeaky-clean backgrounds are actually soulless human husks, and Hollywood’s bad boys and girls are really the good guys, because they got their souls back?”

She stared down into her can. “I wouldn’t exactly call them good guys for taking the out-clause.”

“What does that mean?” Nash pulled a throw pillow from behind his back, then dropped it on the floor beside the couch.

Addison glanced at Tod instead of answering. The reaper sighed and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, and his focus shifted from Nash to me, then back to Nash. “There’s a little complication with the out-clause.”

My stomach churned. Something told me his definition of a “little complication” and mine wouldn’t have much in common.

“Addy doesn’t actually have a copy of her contract….”

“I was barely sixteen,” Addison interrupted, her cheeks flaming in embarrassment. “It never occurred to me to ask for a copy to keep.”

Nash scowled at her, hazel eyes swirling rapidly with mounting anger. “Or to actually read the damned thing before you signed it, I’m guessing.”

“Wait, isn’t sixteen too young to sign a contract without your mom’s permission?” I asked, hoping I’d just discovered a brilliant legal loophole.

Tod’s blue-eyed gaze seemed to darken. “The Netherworld considers humans adult once they hit puberty.”

I frowned. “That’s messed up.”

He shrugged. “It’s the Netherworld. And she had no idea she was entitled to a copy of her contract, and hellions aren’t known for explaining your rights up front.” He deliberately shifted his focus to me. “Anyway, I asked around a little bit today.”

The sick look on his face told me I didn’t want to know who he’d spoken to, or what he’d had to do for the information.

“… and if Addy’s contract reads like all the rest of them do—and I’m sure it does—her out-clause requires an exchange.”

“What?” I blinked, hoping I’d heard him wrong, or was misunderstanding something. “An exchange like my mom made? A life for a life?” The horror crawling through me had no equal. I rubbed my arms, trying to keep goose bumps at bay, but they rose, anyway.

“A soul for a soul,” Tod corrected, staring at the floor for a second before meeting my gaze again. “But basically, yes. Addy can only get her soul back by trading it for another one.”

“Wait.” Nash rubbed his forehead, like that might help the new information sink in. “Souls can’t be stolen. They can only be taken when someone dies, or given up freely by their owner.”

I searched Addison’s face, struggling with my own mounting nausea. “So, all those people you mentioned? They all had to kill someone to get their souls back?”

“Or recruit someone,” Tod said, twisting the tab on his can, as if unbothered by the new development.

“And you call that a little complication?”

Tod shrugged and glanced at Nash as if he wanted a second opinion. “I know we’re short on time, and I’d suggest steering clear of murder just to keep things simple, but I’m sure Addy knows someone looking for a quick career boost—”

“No!” she and I shouted in unison, shooting twin looks of horror at the reaper. “I can’t take the out-clause, Tod,” Addison continued. “Even if I were willing to throw my family to the wolves, I can’t put someone else in my position.”

“Would you rather die without your soul?” He looked irritated with her for the first time that I’d seen. Was he really ready to damn someone else to the Netherworld to save Addison?

Yes. I could see that in his eyes, in how they lit up every time she spoke. In the way his gaze never left her for long. He’d literally do anything for her, and that knowledge scared me almost as badly as the thought of traveling to the Netherworld.

“No,” she answered finally, spinning her can slowly on the coffee table. “That’s why I need your help. I need to get my soul back without using the out-clause.”

“Damn it!” Nash slammed his empty can down on the coffee table, his irises flashing with a confusion of angry colors.

“She’s right,” I said softly. Then I pinned Tod with my gaze. “I won’t help you lead another lamb to the slaughter. If we do this, we do it without the exchange.”

Tod scowled, and again his willingness to take the easy route chilled me. But then he glanced at the raw desperation on Addison’s face and nodded.

“Nash?” I took his hand and folded my fingers around his. “I understand if you want to back out.”

He exhaled heavily. “Like I can let you do this alone. I’m in.”

My relief was a bitter mercy. I didn’t want to do this any more than he did. But I wanted to do it without him even less.

“So … how do we start?” Addison glanced from me to Nash, then to Tod. “What can I do?”

I took a deep breath, then gulped from my can. “First, we need to know who this hellion is. It is a he, right?” I asked, as it occurred to me that I’d been thinking of the hellion as male.

“Yes, it’s a … um … guy demon.” She flushed and shook her head. “But I don’t know his name. I didn’t even know for sure that they had names.”

“But you did actually meet him, right?” Frustration flavored my words, and we could all hear it.

“She did.” Tod answered for her, clenching his hands into tense fists in his lap. “The transfer process is. hands-on.”

Wow. So many things that could mean …

“Good. Tell us everything you remember.” I rubbed my damp palms on my jeans, half dreading whatever we were about to hear. But if I was half dreading it, Addison was all the way there. She glanced at Tod, reluctance obvious in the lips she’d pressed together and the panic swimming in her eyes.

“It’s okay.” He leaned forward to rub her bare arm. “We need to know what you know.” But Addison’s hands began to shake, in spite of his reassurance.

I elbowed Nash and glanced at Addy. He rolled his eyes, then nodded curtly. “Just tell us what you remember.” In spite of his reluctance to coddle her, his voice radiated safety and comfort, flowing over us all like a warm, familiar blanket. “Close your eyes, if you need to. Pretend we’re not here.” After a moment, Addy nodded and leaned back in her chair, her eyes closed. “Start from when you signed the contract,” Nash soothed. “Where were you?”

“In John Dekker’s office. He had the curtains closed and the air cranked. I was freezing.”

“Okay, good.” Nash said, and I glanced at my watch. Addison’s hour of privacy would be up in about twenty minutes and I was not up for another high-pressure getaway. “So you signed the contract. Then what happened?”

Do you sign a demon contract with ink, or with blood? I couldn’t help but wonder.

“Dekker took the contract into another room. When he came back, he had a woman with him. She was tall and pretty, but she looked at me weird. Like she was hungry and I was dinner.”

I shifted uncomfortably on the couch until Nash took my hand again, squeezing gently. The feel of his skin against mine did almost as much as his voice to calm me. “What did the woman do?” he asked.

Addy cleared her throat and continued, eyes still pinched closed. “She held my hands and I started to feel dizzy. I closed my eyes and when I opened them—” she opened her eyes to look at us then, as if acting out her memory “—Dekker’s office was gone.”

Both brothers met my gaze, confirming my suspicion. Dekker had a rogue reaper in his pocket.

“Where were you?” I asked. I couldn’t help it. I’d peeked into the Netherworld several times, but had never actually been there.

“I don’t know.” Her eyes went distant as she sank back into her own memory. “We were standing on a white marble floor in a room so big I couldn’t see the walls, but I could tell from the echo that there were walls. And there was this weird gray haze over everything for a minute or so. Then that cleared all at once, like it was never there. But I know I saw it….”

Nash glanced at Tod, and something unspoken seemed to pass between them. I elbowed Nash, hoping for an explanation, but he only held up one finger, asking me to wait. I nodded reluctantly, then sipped silently from my can as he continued. “What happened next, once the haze cleared?”

“Nothing, at first.” Addy’s eyes regained focus, and her gaze held mine for a moment before sliding to Tod. “Then I heard footsteps on the marble, and saw someone walking toward us from behind the woman.”

“That was the hellion?” Tod asked, his words clipped in anger. Or was that fear? “What did he look like? Tell us everything you can think of.”

Addy closed her eyes again in concentration. “He looked pretty normal. Like any businessman. He wore a plain black suit and had brown hair. He didn’t look very scary, so I started to relax. But then I saw his eyes. They had no color. At all.” Her eyes opened then, glazed with fear so fresh I could almost taste it. “They were just solid black balls stuck in his head, with no pupils or irises. It was … weird. I couldn’t tell if they were moving, and didn’t know whether or not he was looking at me.”

Tod and Nash looked at each other again, then back at Addy. “What did he do?”

“He kissed me.” Addison’s voice broke on the last word, and she began to tremble all over. When Tod stood and crossed between her chair and the couch, her eyes caught his movement and were drawn back into focus.

“Are you okay?” I asked as Tod slid the closet door into the wall and pulled a blanket from the bottom shelf.

“Yeah.” She smiled in thanks when Tod draped the blanket over her lap and tucked it around her sides. “I just don’t want to think about what I did. About what I let him do.”

I nodded sympathetically, and Nash cleared his throat. “Okay, so he kissed you …?”

“Yeah, only it wasn’t really a kiss.” Addison leaned forward to sip from her can, then set it on the table and pulled the blanker tighter around herself. “His mouth opened, and he … sucked on me.”

“He sucked on you?” I repeated, confused by her phrasing. “Isn’t that kind of what a kiss is?” Unless I’ve been doing it all wrong …

Her teeth began to chatter, and it took obvious effort for her to speak clearly. “He sucked on me like I was a human Popsicle, and it felt like I’d swallowed a hurricane. Like he’d stirred something up, and I could feel it whipping around inside me. Then it just went. through my lips and into him.”

Wow. Hellions suck. Literally.

“When it was over, I was cold on the inside. I was shaking so badly I could hardly stand. I felt so empty I thought my body would collapse in on itself, like I was a vacuum that couldn’t be filled. I knew then that I’d made a mistake. But it was too late.”

Addy leaned forward to pick up her can again, but it shook violently in her hands and sloshed soda over the sides. She set it down in disgust and pressed her hands together between her knees, trying in vain to stop shivering. “The man—the hellion—just stepped back and licked his lips, like I tasted good. He smiled at me, and I felt dirty. Like I could scrub for hours and never get rid of his filth.” Her hands rubbed at her jeans again, pressing so hard her fingers went white. “Then he leaned down and kissed me again, only this time he exhaled into my mouth, and his breath felt thick and heavy.”

She paused and closed her eyes, rubbing her face roughly as if to wipe the memory from her mind. But it wouldn’t go. I knew that from experience. The worst memories stick with us, while the nice ones always seem to slip through our fingers.

“I’d thought I was cold before, but that was nothing compared to being filled with his breath. Filled with him. The demon took part of me and left part of himself in its place. I could feel him rolling through me. Exploring me from the inside, so cold he burned every part of me he touched. The first few times I exhaled, my breath was white, like in the middle of winter. My teeth chattered for two days afterward. But the worst was the chill.” She shuddered and clutched the blanket tighter. “That awful, hollow cold, swallowing me from the inside out.”

“When did that go away?” I asked, my voice so soft and horrified I barely heard it.

Addison looked at me and smiled softly, her expression empty, and all the creepier for that fact. Then she reached up with one hand and pulled her left eyelid up. With her free hand, she pinched the front of her eye, and something fell out onto her palm.

“When did the chill fade?” She blinked then, and when she looked at me, I saw that without her contact lens, her left eye was solid white, with no pupil and no iris. “It never did.”