Page 130 of Stone Cold Touch

Sighing, I stepped forward, making a face as I tried to come up with something to say. “Uh, Eva, are you okay?”

Her shoulders stiffened and she lowered her hands. Wow. Eva did not cry pretty, which for some horrible reason made me feel better about myself. In the reflection, mascara streaked her cheeks and her face was puffy and red.

Then she crumpled—her face did. It screwed up as fresh tears ran down her cheek. “No. I’m not okay. I’m never going to be okay.”

The look on Stacey’s face said she was wondering if Eva was being a tad bit melodramatic, but unease blossomed in the pit of my stomach.

Eva turned to us, her hands closing into balls against her ruddy cheeks. “He’s dead. Gareth’s dead.”

30

Gareth had overdosed sometime during the night. His parents had found his body in the garage that morning, when his father was leaving for work. Rumor had it that he’d been huffing alcohol.

A heavy sadness clung to the school. Dean’s death had been bad enough, then Gerald’s, but Gareth had been popular. Everyone knew him and, while his steady descent into drugs had confounded a lot of people, he was still the guy half the girls wanted to be with and half the guys wanted to be.

Teachers talked about it in every class, citing it as a tragic accident and turning it into an after-school special about drugs and their dangers, but I knew differently.

So did Stacey and Sam.

So did Roth.

Not that drugs weren’t a huge problem, but this went beyond addiction and the stupid things we did. Gareth had been infected. His life and his soul had been stolen from him. Not only would there be another wraith, but Gareth would spend an eternity in Hell.

And that killed me, even if there turned out to be a Lilin somewhere.

Roth caught up with me as I headed toward lunch. Being alone with him had my nerves twisted into useless knots. I knew it had everything to do with Zayne and me...and everything to do with Roth.

“I haven’t sensed a wraith yet,” he said, hands shoved into the pockets of his ripped jeans. “Have you?”

I shook my head as Bambi started to climb up between my breasts. I issued her a stern warning not to appear on my face. Whenever Roth was near, she liked to be seen. Kind of like one of those annoying yappy dogs that needed attention.

“I guess it will only be a matter of time before it shows up. We’re still on to see the coven this weekend?” I asked. When he nodded, I leaned against the wall. The hallway was virtually empty. As I peeked up at him, finding him watching me closely, I shifted my weight. “Is there anything we can do about their souls? Any way we can get them free?”

Roth turned, angling his body sideways. He shook his head. “Not unless you want to strike a deal with the Boss and that’s not something I’d suggest.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he placed a finger against my lips, silencing me. Energy jolted between us and I pulled back.

One side of his lips tipped up. “I know you want to help them, shortie, but once the souls are downthere,it’s a bitch to get them out. And I’m not talking about an inconvenience. Boss likes an eye for an eye. If you ask for a soul, the Boss will ask for one in return. You don’t want to make those kinds of deals, carrying that kind of weight around.”

He had a point, but I was already carrying a decent load on my shoulders.

“You haven’t returned any of my texts or calls,” he said after a few moments, propping his hip against the wall beside me. His chin was dipped down and his dark lashes shielded his eyes. “I was worried.”

My brows rose. “Were you?”

“Yeah.” The corners of his lips turned down. “Why would that surprise you?”

I shrugged a shoulder. He’d reached out to me a couple of additional times during our suspension and over break, but I hadn’t responded. It would’ve felt wrong if I had and not because being with Zayne meant I couldn’t talk to other guys. It was just that Roth wasn’t an “other guy”—he was a whole slew of something else.

“You’re with Zayne, aren’t you?” he said, as if he read my mind.

Was I? We hadn’t called each other boyfriend or girlfriend, but we treated each other as if we were. “I really don’t want to talk about him with you.”

His lips pursed. “Tell me you’re at least being careful.”

My eyes widened. “Okay. This sounds like an ‘are you using a condom’ conversation.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he said.

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