Forgotten Souls (The Saving Angels 2)

I shook my head trying to calm my breathing. Of course he was coming. We had overcome that obstacle. I knew I was just being ridiculous, but I scanned the horizon more anxiously. After nearly losing him once, I couldn't control the panic that slowly dug its claws into my frantically beating heart.

Finally, he appeared in the distance, his silhouette walking toward me at what seemed to be the slowest of snail paces. Using my newfound skills, I leaped to my feet in one fluid movement, bolting the remaining distance that separated us and threw myself into his strong arms. He clasped me tightly against him, but only briefly, releasing me before my erratic heartbeat could calm itself. He rested his hands on my shoulders in a soft caress. I tilted my head to the side resting on the back of his knuckles. His hands slid across my shoulders making me shiver as they slowly crept toward my slender neck. His touch was like heaven on earth.

I turned my gaze to his face, drinking in his handsome features. My eyes traveled up his neck, past his well-chiseled chin, briefly resting on his soft, kissable lips and finally, sliding up to his enticing brown eyes that never failed to draw me in.

He looked back at me disdainfully, like I was a gnat bothering him by buzzing around his head causing me to take a cautious step backwards.

Gone were the warm, inviting brown eyes that melted my soul each time I looked into them. Instead, they resembled the dull grey mud you would find on the side of the road. I gasped in sudden shock when I saw the hint of red in the center of each pupil. His hands instantly lost their soft touch. Instead of the gentle caress that made me shiver with need, they had become a vice holding me in place.

I opened my mouth to ask him what was wrong when his features began to shift before me, and I found myself facing the monster that had haunted most of my recent waking moments. His hands tightened into a death grip, cutting into my windpipe, stalling the process of airflow through me. A scream bubbled up inside me as I tried to pull away, frantically trying to put distance between us. Mark's dad grinned back at me as blackness took over with the red in his eyes burning into my very soul.

"Krista!" I woke with a start at my name being called impatiently. Sitting up confused, I tried to shake the last of the nightmare away and gather my bearings.

"Krista," the voice said again with enough sarcasm laced through it that I knew I was in trouble.

"Are you kidding me? You decide to take a nap on probably one of the most important shopping days of our lives?"

Before I could come up with a coherent excuse, my best friend turned to our other bestie Lynn, who was leaning against the wall uncomfortably, clearly wishing she was anywhere but here.

I would have giggled if Sam wasn't so worked up. The fact that she had turned to Lynn to help berate me over my poor shopping etiquette was comical. Nothing about Lynn's appearance could be considered "fashion guruish." Standing with her scuffed converse sneakers crossed at the ankles, hands stuffed deep in the pockets of jeans that had seen better days, with more holes than a slice of Swiss cheese. Between her rock shirt, multiple piercings and short Goth haircut, she looked like a groupie at a concert. All that was missing from her ultra cool look was a cigarette dangling between her slender fingers. I knew for a fact though, that was one rebellious act Lynn would never succumb to. Of course, being asthmatic made the choice easy for her.

Once again, I had to clamp down a giggle, here we were practically Angels and poor Lynn was forced to carry an inhaler around with her.

"Can you believe she was napping?" Sam asked shrilly.

Before she could continue her tirade, I cut in, feeling slightly embarrassed as other shoppers stepped closer as if they were expecting some kind of cat fight.

"Sam, I wasn't napping. I was just resting my eyes," I lied, not wanting to delve into my nightmare before I could analyze it myself and try to make sense of it. We'd had enough drama lately and I wasn't ready to throw my dreams back into the pot.

I cringed as the tell-all blush gave away my white lie.

"Resting your eyes? Sure I believe you. Not." Sam muttered, shifting the stack of dresses in her arms. "And I'm flying my private jet to prom. Can you at least pretend that you're a little interested in your prom?"

"Sam, I'm interested. I just still think it's crazy that everyone's making such a big deal about it when we have so many other pressing issues to deal with." Once again raising the same objections I had been voicing for the last few days.

"Mark just got released from the hospital. I'm sure dancing and partying is not the kind of recovery regiment his doctor has in mind."

"Right, because I'm sure you and Mark are going to party like animals. I mean give me a break. I'm sure we're going to have to drag your butt out on the dance floor. Or maybe you have other ideas where the night might lead," Sam added, raising her eyebrows at me suggestively.

Lynn sniggered behind me. Turning around, I shot her a look. I was pretty sure that she had much more experience in that category than I did. My stance had always been to wait until marriage. The fact that we found out we were some kind of celestial beings made it even harder to jump into bed with Mark, no matter how smoking hot he was. We might not have all the facts of our origins yet, but I'm confident more was expected of us than letting our raging hormones get in the way.

Lynn returned my stare, balefully getting a sense of what I was thinking.

Ugh, I loved all of them, but it was hard being an open book to so many people now. I felt my face redden slightly, but fought it off like a pro. At least having my emotions in check was nice.

"Kidding," Sam said also picking up my conflicting emotions. "We just want to go to prom so we can say we did it. We all know Mark's not quite up to par yet. Plus you have to admit the venue is pretty swanky."

Sam was right. St. Briggets had spared no expense on throwing a bash that would be talked about for years. The prom committee, led by none other than the dreaded Lush Trio, had conducted every possible fundraiser imaginable. That, combined with the deep pockets of the overindulgent parents and this year's prom was being held at the exclusive Swan Resort, which was located smack dab on the cliffs of the beach near Aptos. The whole school had been buzzing for weeks, since typically the clientele for the ultra-swanky Swan Resort was a who's who of Hollywood A-Listers looking to tie the knot.

Sam had been crowing about seeing the inside of it for weeks.

Not that I didn't want to go to prom, I really did. Sure, dancing in front of all those people was enough to test my emotional gauge, but I just felt we had more important things we should be doing. Number one on our list was finding and taking care of the man who had tried to kill and destroy our very race, not to mention locating the missing pair of our mismatched group.

The short video of them I saw while being held captive remained vividly in my head. At the time I had only one concern, which was to get Mark and me away from the monster that was holding us hostage. Now that I was removed from that perilous situation, I had been thinking about them a lot and was haunted with the image of Mark's dad (or Mr. Russo as I had come to think of him, wanting no connection between him and Mark) torturing them and doing similar experiments on them that he did on me. Just the thought of the other pair suffering like I had, made bile rise in my throat.

"Krista, what do you think?" Sam asked, breaking into my thoughts.

"Looks good," I said automatically, embarrassed that I had become distracted again. Truthfully, Sam did look smashing in the dress she was modeling for us. I got up to stand beside her and adjusted the spaghetti straps of the midnight blue dress. The dress came to just above her knees with a full skirt that flared out around her. The dress cinched at her narrow waist while the top tapered in, showing off all of Sam's assets.