Wicked Kiss (Nightwatchers) - By Michelle Rowen Page 0,39

revelations of what was to come for grays, to eavesdropping on Bishop’s conversation about inconvenient addictions, to Julie’s suicide, I couldn’t deal with anything else right now. I especially couldn’t handle being around anyone who triggered my hunger.

I went directly home and locked the door behind me, dropping down to the floor, and finally released the sobs I’d been trying so hard to hold inside.

* * *

For the rest of the day, I did my best to avoid the world. It was my new hobby. It served me well for six hours of solitude. However, the pizza delivery guy had smelled much better than the pizza had, which was so unsettling I barely managed to eat more than half the pizza.

Mom called to say she’d arrived at her fabulous resort in Honolulu, and was going to start exploring immediately. Even long distance she sounded every bit as thrilled about her spontaneous trip as she had here. Angelic influence had some serious staying power. I missed her, but I told her to have a good time and not to worry about me.

After the call, I distractedly flipped through Catcher in the Rye, our current read in English. I’d read it before, so all I really had to do was refresh my memory.

It was late when Cassandra got back. The angel went directly to the refrigerator to get herself something to eat—more Chinese food leftovers.

From the kitchen doorway, I warily watched her prepare a plate. She looked over her shoulder at me, and her eyes narrowed.

“You didn’t tell me you kissed Bishop,” she said. There was accusation in her tone.

I cringed. “Good evening to you, too.”

She put her plate down and spun to face me, her eyes flashing with blue light. “Do you know how dangerous that was?”

Her words were harsh and unexpected. My eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her brows drawing together. She drew closer to me. “I’m sure you know it’s dangerous. I don’t have to tell you.”

“I didn’t know he had a soul at the time. Neither did he.” Not much of an excuse, but it was true.

Her frown remained as she studied me. “You’re upset.”

I inhaled shakily and ran my hand under my nose. “You could say that.”

“Why?”

“Oh, let me think.” I tried not to sound sarcastic, but failed. “I’m a soulless monster you and your buddies have the authority to knife in the heart at any given moment.” I chose not to share what I’d learned from Stephen—or even that I’d seen him. Not yet. And not with her. “Other than that, I—I witnessed somebody kill herself today.”

Her face blanched. “Kill herself?”

I nodded. “It was terrible. Right in front of me. She jumped to her death.”

Her mouth worked, but nothing came out for a moment. “Just like that. No warning?”

“No.”

I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat.

“Where were you?”

“The Trinity Mall. I’m sure it’ll be in the paper tomorrow. Probably already on the internet tonight.” I shivered.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it. Her grave expression didn’t change. “I’m sorry you had to witness something like that. You’ve had to deal with so much.”

All I could offer was a meager shrug. “I just wish I could have stopped her.”

“Some things can’t be stopped.”

Cassandra didn’t touch her food, instead throwing it in the garbage as if she’d lost her appetite. I wasn’t sure what to make of her change in mood.

“I’m going to bed,” I said. It was late. I was tired. And whether I liked it or not, I had school tomorrow.

“You need to stay away from him,” she said as I turned to leave the kitchen.

I froze and looked over my shoulder at her. “Who?”

She just looked at me patiently. “Bishop’s mind isn’t working right because of his fall—because of the burden of his soul. He tries very hard to ignore this and do his job anyway, but if he was fully lucid, he’d see the risk of being anywhere near you.”

I grappled for something to say. “I don’t want to hurt him. It’s the last thing I want.”

“If you’re not careful, that’s exactly what you’ll do.”

There wasn’t anything else to say, or nothing that came immediately to mind. I escaped to my bedroom with thoughts racing, and a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

After failing to get any real answers out of Stephen, I was at a temporary loss with my plan of action. I’d have to look for him. Maybe he’d contact