My Soul to Save

The worst memories stick with us, while the nice ones always seem to slip through our fingers.

Chocolate says "I'm sorry" so much better than words.

What if I was the sexual equivalent of popcorn? Suitable for light snacking only?

So could we please not mob the three-thousand-plus-year-old reaper like tweens at a boy-band concert?

It already smells like sex in here, and you're both still dressed. You have no idea how messed up that is.

If she were going to die, I'd already be screaming. I'm a Banshee. That's what we do.

You two are cracked," Tod snapped. My smile widened. "Says the undead man in love with the soulless pop star.

You're Nash's brother. And a grim reaper?" She blinked again, and I readied myself for hysterics, or fear, or laughter. But knowing emma, I should have known better. "So you, what? Kill people? Did you kill me that day in the gym?" She clenched the headrest, her expression an odd mix of anger, awe, and confusion. But there was no disbelief. She'd seen and heard enough of the bizarre following her own temporary death that Tod's admission obviously didn't come as that much of a surprise. Or maybe Nash's Influence was still affecting her a little. "No," Tod shook his head firmly, but the corners of his mouth turned up in amusement. "I had nothing to do with that. I do kill people, then I reap their souls and take them to be recycled. But only people who are on my list." "So, you're not...dangerous?" His pouty grin deepened into something almost predatory, like the Tod I'd first met two months earlier. "Oh, I'm dangerous...." "Tod..." I warned, as Nash punched his brother in the arm, hard enough to actually hurt. "Just not to you," the reaper finished, shrugging at Emma. "I see you all the time, but you've never seen me, because Kaylee said if I got too close to you, I'd suffer eternity without my balls." "Jeez, Tod!" I shouted, my anger threatening to boil over and scald us all. The reaper leaned closer to Emma and spoke in a stage whisper. "She's not as scary as she thinks she is, but I respect her intent.

It would be so much easier if there were a secret password, or handshake. Netherworld, open sesame! Yeah, that didn't work, either.

And I don't think I want to meet this super-reaper." Nash stuffed his hands in his front pockets. "The garden variety's weird enough.

It's kind of like when a clock battery runs down. The hour and minute hands don't disappear, but they don't keep ticking either. They freeze on the last minute they measured.

It's not like I'm actually wishing for more dead cheerleaders. I'm just saying, if someone has to go..." Tod snorted. "I like her." -Emma

Because in most cases, I believe that people deserve a second chance. And because I couldn't have lived with myself if I'd stood by and let them both die souless, when I could have helped.

I see you all the time, but you've never seen me, because Kaylee said if I got too close to you, I'd suffer eternity without my balls." "Jeez, Tod!" I shouted, my anger threatening to boil over and scald us all. The reaper leaned closer to Emma and spoke in a stage whisper. "She's not as scary as she thinks she is, but I respect her intent.

Sneak out." He shrugged, as if that should have been a no-brainer. But that was easy for him to say. He was dead. What else could they do to him, take away his birthday?

There's pressure, but that's true no matter who you are or what you do.

My hands wrapped around his waist, traveling up the broad expanse of his back, mooth and hard, and... "Give it a rest, already," Tod snapped from somewhere behind his brother. "It already smells like sex in here, and you're both still dressed. You have no idea how messed up that is.

It's a side effect of the process. You know how they say the eyes are the windows to the soul?" he asked, and I swallowed thickly before nodding. I didn't like where this was headed. "Evidently they mean that literally. Once the soul is gone, there's nothing to see through the windows." Nash whistled softly. "That has to be the weirdest thing I've ever seen." And that meant a lot coming from a bean sidhe. "You want me to put the contact back in, don't you?" Addison cocked her head and gave him a small, eerie smile. "That's be great, thanks." Nash nodded decisively. -Tod, Nash and Addison talking about her blank white eyes

You thought you could figure that out online? Somehow I don't think hellions are much into social networking.

What's wrong with her soul?" "Nothing. She's just not actually in possession of it.

Give t a rest, already," Tod snapped from somewhere behind his brother. "It already smells like sex in here, and you're both still dressed. You have no idea how messed up that is.

But what if wanting me was like waiting for popcorn to pop, or coffee to brew? They both smelled so good, but the taste could never live up to such delectable scents. And neither made a very satisfying meal. What if I was the sexual equivalent of popcorn? Suitable for light snacking only?

Until then, I would pretend my ankle was made of steel, like some kind of bionic joint, and that I could feel no pain. I was superhuman. I could do anything. But I'd take some Tylenol, just in case. Lots of Tylenol.