Chasing Before Read online

  Eventually the morning bells ring out, signaling the dawn of my third day in Level Three. I rub my eyes and trudge over to Neil’s room. How is he going to act this morning? Hot or cold?

  As soon as I enter his room, I get my answer. He rushes over and kisses me, running his hands up and down my back and leading me backward until we fall into his bed.

  But I can’t lose myself in the sensation like I always did before, and I don’t know what’s wrong with me. His lips are as warm and inviting as ever, and his fingertips are whisper soft against my skin. I’m doing exactly what Nate warned me not to—I’m overthinking things.

  I break away from Neil, and he gives me a questioning look.

  “Why don’t you get along with Nate?” I ask, because I’m so great lately at ruining moments and blurting out things that should stay locked away. Maybe Neil can give me some tips on how to compartmentalize thoughts and repress memories.

  Neil frowns. “Because Nate’s only objective is to stir up trouble. He loves messing with people. Our family counselor diagnosed him with abandonment issues.”

  “You never mentioned him. Your family had only one photo of him up.”

  Neil gets up off the bed and sits in the chair facing me. “We didn’t even know Nate existed until I was fourteen. His mom contacted my dad and told him he was Nate’s father and that now was the time to step up. Nate was already seventeen, and she didn’t want to deal with him anymore. Nate stayed with us a year, and that was the worst year of my life.”

  He looks so wrecked, I almost feel guilty that I forced the issue, but I’m also relieved that he’s talking. That he’s finally sharing some of his own pain instead of only absorbing mine. “But maybe he’s changed for the better,” I offer. As much I wish that were true, based on last night I can’t imagine it is.

  Neil grabs my hands. “Trust me, Nate poisons everything he touches. Don’t let him play mind games with you.”

  “You can tell me anything. You can tell me about Gracie.” I hold my metaphorical breath.

  Neil leans back in his chair, letting go of me in the process. He obviously doesn’t relish talking to me about her, so he’s probably throwing me a tiny bone to get me off his back. “Gracie went to our church. She was a year older than me. Beautiful.” The longing tone of his voice when he says “beautiful” makes my heart flutter. “I think all of us were in love with her. She was always nice enough, but she had this way of avoiding our clumsy attempts to get closer to her. She didn’t want to date anyone. Until Nate.” His face darkens.

  “So she went out with Nate, then?”

  He nods. “Long story short: Nate used her, like he uses everyone. She was so upset that she stopped coming to church, and even started skipping school. And Nate didn’t care. He left town the day he turned eighteen and never looked back.”

  “But you cared.” The parallels between Gracie and me are obvious. We were both broken. It’s a big leap to take, but maybe Neil’s initial interest in me had to do with the fact that he couldn’t have the girl he really wanted to fix.

  Neil smiles sadly. “Yeah. At the time, too much. I told you once, at my house, if it hadn’t been for Eagle Scouts and my guitar, I don’t know what I would’ve done. Hunted Nate down, maybe tried to punch an apology out of him.”

  His statement comes with such a sweet mix of vulnerability and bravado, I sweep him up into a tight hug. I ignore the stab of jealousy.

  There’s an insistent knock, and the door opens. I break away from Neil reluctantly, turning to find Nate. “Hey, Little Brother. Am I interrupting something?”

  “Good morning.” Neil’s greeting is more cheerful than I expected. I’m irritated by Nate’s timing, but Neil seems almost relieved. If hanging out with Nate is preferable to talking about Gracie, then it’s even worse than I thought.

  “Career fair today, and I told Libby I’d take you.” Nate crosses his arms. “I’m due at the demon hunter booth, so let’s go.”

  “We’ve already decided to be muses,” I say. “So we’ll stay here and you can go on without us.” And then Neil and I can continue our talk.

  “We should go,” Neil says. “Kiara is expecting us at the healers’ booth.”

  Unfortunately, I can’t argue with that reasoning unless I want to look like a total ingrate. But when Neil reaches for my hand as we follow Nate out the door, I pull it away and pretend to examine my nail polish.

  As we walk toward Assembly Hill, Nate acts the part of a perfect older brother, pointing out various landmarks and telling us more about the various afterlife positions. “Have you read your copy of the ‘Guide to Afterlife Occupations’?” he asks.

  Neil was pretty absorbed in it yesterday before class, but I haven’t done more than skim it. “No,” I say at the same time Neil says, “Yes.”

  Neil squints and then pulls out the rumpled copy from his back pocket and hands it to me.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask, why is ‘guardian angel’ on here?” Neil asks Nate. “Don’t actual angels do that?”

  “Surprisingly, no. Guardian angel is the most boring job you can get, and actual angels couldn’t be bothered. Sure, once in a while you get to save someone’s life, but what does that get you? A pat on the back from your supervisor? A plaque on the wall? No, thanks. But it’s the job with the most openings because of all those desperate people on Earth. The recruiters are out at the career fair in full force. Steer clear, is my advice.”

  Nate is right about the guardian angel recruiters. When we reach the fair, which is a jumble of plywood booths that resemble street-side lemonade stands, recruiters in white suits and dresses descend upon us like vendors in a third world country, shouting their slogan “Protect and Serve!” and waving white sheets of paper in our faces. Taking Nate’s advice, we don’t respond to any of them and keep our faces resolute, as if we know exactly where we’re headed.

  Once we’ve lost the recruiters in the crowd, we relax again. At a booth flying a yellow flag, Nate ducks under a support beam. “This is me.” He positions himself next to a girl built like a professional weight lifter. Her black hair is tied up in knots and pushed off her tan forehead with a yellow headband. She rifles though a stack of folders, so intent on her task that Nate has to poke her arm to get her attention. “Shan, meet Neil and his girlfriend, Felicia,” he says.

  Shan salutes us. “Interested in demon hunting?” When I shake my head, she licks her thumb and returns to her paperwork, pushing half the stack over to Nate.

  Nate groans. “Okay, then. See you later, Little Brother.”

  Neil and I spend the morning and early afternoon visiting the various booths and listening patiently to the different groups’ sales pitches and stories of life on the job. Finally we come to a red booth at the edge of the fair. The sign says HEALERS with the slogan first in Latin and then in English: Primum non nocere. First, do no harm. Odd that the slogan isn’t in other languages too. No one is here to greet us and try to sell us on their profession.

  “I wonder where they are,” Neil says. “Kiara said she would be here.”

  He cranes his neck to look behind the booth. “Oh my God!” he breathes, his eyes widening in horror.

  “What?” I ask, alarm racing through me. I press myself against the booth to get a better view. What I see would make me throw up if I actually had anything in my stomach—Kiara lying on a red blanket, her body slashed and seeping blood.

  twelve

  NEIL SKIRTS AROUND THE BARRIER and dives over to Kiara. I’m right behind him. There’s blood trickling from her mouth, and she stares up at us in a daze of pain and confusion. If a powerful healer like Kiara is bleeding, this has to be the work of the Morati, who can apparently make anyone believe anything. The skin on my neck prickles, and I turn my head to scan the immediate area, but there is no one.

  “What happened?” Neil kneels beside her, his hands hovering like he doesn’t know if he should touch her. “Is there anything we can do? Where are the other healers? You need a
healer!”

  She coughs, grabs Neil’s forearm. “Keegan. Where is he?”

  “I don’t know.” Neil materializes a pillow and props her head on it, trying to offer her a small comfort. I take a corner of the blanket she’s lying on and press it to her abdomen, where the most blood is.

  “Protect. Him. Promise me.” Her eyelids flutter.

  “I will,” Neil promises. “What happened?”

  “All the healers. Have been murdered.”

  “Who did this to you?” I ask her.

  Her head lolls to the side, her strength at an end. “Angel . . .” The word is so soft, I almost don’t even catch it. The light leaves her eyes, and I watch helplessly until her body disappears, gone now. Maybe gone forever.

  “Did she say ‘angel’?” asks Neil, his voice wet. He stares in disbelief at Kiara’s bloody handprint on his skin, and falls back against the wall of the booth.

  I materialize a cloth and wipe the blood from his arm. “I’m so sorry.” I can’t believe Kiara is gone. She was strong. I could never thank her enough for saving Neil’s life. Was there something I could have done to save hers?

  I shiver. Standing up, I survey this section of the fair. The healers’ booth is not only at the very edge, but there are several empty booths between it and the next closest, a poorly constructed hovel occupied only by the caretaker representative that we talked to a few moments ago. Now he lies in a green hammock, his attention elsewhere.

  Kiara said they didn’t get many visitors down this way, and she wasn’t kidding. When did the attack happen? Most people would fade out rather quickly if they had injuries as serious as Kiara’s, but Kiara was a powerful healer. She might have been able to hold out for hours.

  “The Morati killed them. We have to tell Libby about this.” Neil gestures wildly at the red blanket, now stained dark. “They specifically targeted the healers. You know what that means.”

  I do. It means Level Three is even more dangerous for everyone now. Without the healers, we’re more vulnerable than before. Maybe it means the Morati are planning large-scale attacks. The Morati’s ultimate goal is to ascend all the way to heaven, but how does weakening the people here help them do that? Julian might know.

  I should have told Libby about Julian’s visit. It’s not that I think he did this, but he is still Morati. I’ve protected him because of our bargain, and because I care about him more than I dare to admit. But now that all our lives hang in the balance, I can’t rationalize keeping his presence here a secret.

  If he’s truly innocent, if he works with Libby and Furukama and helps them as much as he can, they’ll have to treat him fairly. They wouldn’t expose him to brimstone and make him sick. Maybe once they capture the Morati, they’ll also let me question them about my stolen memories.

  But considering Libby’s insistence on detachment, I’m deluding myself if I think for a second that they would allow me any access at all. It comes down to a choice: a chance to view my memories or a chance for everyone’s safety. Obviously, the latter is much more important.

  “Um . . . Neil . . . I need to tell you something.” I’ve been dreading this conversation about Julian. Neil is not going to understand why I didn’t alert the authorities immediately.

  “What is it?” he asks warily. “We need to find Libby. Now.”

  “Well . . . ,” I begin, but I’m cut off by a girl’s screams. I whip around. The girl stands in shock just outside the booth, staring down at the red blanket. She sees me, gulps, and runs back toward the fair. She stumbles and flies to the ground, and begins to sob and point toward the healers’ booth. Toward me. My shirt is covered in Kiara’s blood, which has sunk into the weave of the cotton fabric and caked into an ugly brown.

  Soon enough the girl’s hysterics attract the attention of the security force, led by Autumn and the guy with the silver belt buckle who came to my room while Neil was in a coma.

  “What happened here?” Autumn guides us out of the booth onto a patch of trampled grass behind it. I give her a report of how we found Kiara and what she said about all the healers being killed by an angel.

  “It’s terrible.” The shock of it all is clearly etched on Neil’s face. “I owe Kiara my life, and now she’s gone.” He sinks down onto the stump of a tree.

  Silver Belt Buckle escorts the shocked girl away while the others roll out yellow-and-black crime-scene tape to cordon off the area from the rubberneckers who’ve already started to gather, wide-eyed and curious.

  Autumn lets out a piercing whistle. “The career fair is over. Curfew is in effect until tomorrow, as of immediately. Please return to your rooms.” The Careers shutter their booths with worried glances. A trickle and then a flood of fair attendees bump into one another in their haste to get back to the dorms. I reach for Neil to return to our rooms, but Autumn calls out, “Stay for a minute, will you?”

  She returns to my side. “Did Kiara say who did this? Give a description?”

  “No. She was really weak by the time we found her, and then . . .” I trail off. It’s surreal to be talking about Kiara’s death to someone who was murdered similarly and in my own bed.

  Autumn shakes her head. “It’s okay. I’ve come to terms with the way I died. It has only made me tougher.”

  While Autumn gathers evidence, I sit next to Neil on the stump and put my arm around him. Kiara’s death has hit him harder than I would’ve expected, especially considering they barely knew each other. But then, I’m starting to see several new sides to Neil. It must be all the upheaval and change he’s gone through lately. As someone who moved a lot, I’ve come to expect change, sometimes even crave it. But Neil spent his whole life in the same town, his days set to a familiar rhythm. No wonder he’s so moody.

  Libby arrives and consults with Autumn. As Autumn hurries away, Libby approaches us. “I understand you found Kiara.” She offers her wrist to Neil to help him stand. He takes it and scrambles up, flustered.

  “What will we do? Now that the healers are gone?” Neil is visibly calmer, almost as if Libby’s touch took away his sadness. She fixed my hearing, so it’s possible that she can affect emotions as well.

  “I’ll have to train new healers,” Libby says. “I’ll brush up on my skills and take over the program. It’s a priority now.”

  Kiara mentioned that Libby had once been a healer. It’s a good thing she switched careers, or she’d be dead now. “But won’t that make you a target? And anyone you train?” I ask.

  “You should know as well as anyone else that sometimes the good of the many comes before the good of the few,” Libby says.

  Guilt hits me hard. It’s time to tell her about Julian.

  As I glance over at the healers’ booth, the security force starts to run toward Eastern Avenue. There’s a commotion at one of the distant booths. “What’s going on over there?”

  Libby follows my gaze. “We’ve found one of the Morati.”

  “You have? That’s great!” Neil says.

  I paste on a bright smile. The capture of a Morati means we’re all safer, which is the best news of the day. It also means I don’t have to turn in Julian, and Neil won’t be disappointed in me. But how did they capture one? Libby told me that they hoped I would be the one to find the Morati, and then they managed it themselves after all. It’s doubtful I’ll get the chance to grill their prisoner about my stolen memories, which is a shame.

  The group of security officers strides toward us. They form a tight circle around a prisoner and are at high alert, all ramrod-straight postures and shifty eyes. Autumn argues with Silver Belt Buckle, and she’s vibrating, as if she’s trying her best to maintain control over her reactions.

  “He’s not responsible for this, Brady!” Autumn shouts. “Let him go.”

  The prisoner’s head finally becomes visible.

  Julian.

  thirteen

  “SOMEBODY GAVE US an anonymous tip,” Brady says in a southern twang as big as his belt buckle. “This one might be
an angel. We’re fixin’ to take him somewhere to make real sure.”

  Julian blanches. Brady must mean some sort of brimstone enclosure, like a jail. If they hold him too long, he’ll go insane. As much as Julian frustrates me, I don’t want that for him.

  I wonder if it was Neil who gave the anonymous tip. Did he somehow find out that Julian was here and turn him in already? I have to try to stop this.

  I march over to Julian, elbowing the security goons when they try to stop me. “Julian is innocent. I’ll vouch for him.”

  “Tell it to Furukama-Sensei at his trial.” Brady’s towering stance is formidable, but his chin quivers. He is waffling.

  Libby breaks in. She materializes a cashmere wrap and bundles up in it, which makes her look softer, an impression that is counterbalanced by the stiff way she holds her head. “If he truly is an angel, he is our main suspect. We’ll find out soon enough.”

  At this point I risk another glance at Autumn. Despite all her years of training, the fact that the three of us—her, me, and Julian—are all back together again has to have made the events of that last Halloween, when she caught us kissing in the taxi, rush to the surface. At least the boiling red color of her face makes me think that.

  “Take him away, Brady,” Libby says. Brady looks over at Autumn for confirmation, and she nods, jaw tight. Apparently Libby outranks her.

  The security detail regroups and blocks my access to Julian. I start to approach Libby to protest, but Neil pulls me back. “Let him go.”

  The steel in Neil’s voice stops me in my tracks, and all I can do is look at the back of Julian’s head. Autumn, Libby, and Brady fall into step behind Julian’s captors, and the procession moves back in the direction of the hill.

  I close my eyes and press my fingertips hard against my temples. The Morati are still on the loose. We’re all in danger. Right now Julian is the only one who can help me find my lost memories, something he can’t do in custody—and something he can’t do if he’s exposed to brimstone and goes crazy. I don’t want Julian to get hurt, even if he has hurt me countless times. I’m concerned for his well-being. I care about him.