Forgotten Souls (The Saving Angels 2)

Impulsively, I reached over and hugged Sam, feeling proud of her. The three of them had given us enough grief over the last few weeks and I loved Sam for her quick wit.

Mark and Shawn led us to the dance floor where more than one set of eyes followed us. I guess I should have expected it. Being new to the school this year, my relationship with Mark, and the way he was let go from his intern position, made us the most infamous couple at prom.

"Don't worry about them, you look beautiful," Mark said, addressing the comments the dreaded trio had made as he slid his arms around me to pull me close. I looped my arms around his neck and rested my head against his muscular chest where his heart beat steadily. I had discovered when he was in the hospital that this was my favorite spot on earth. I loved to feel his heart beat against my ear knowing that it was connected to me.

"See, this isn't so bad, right?" he asked.

"No, this is nice, but I'm still not doing any fast songs," I said, reminding him of our compromise from a couple days ago.

Chuckling softly, he pulled me closer. I let my eyes drift closed as we swayed around the dance floor. At moments like these, I could imagine that this is how it would be if we were a normal couple and the most stressful thing I had to worry about was passing finals. But having the weight of using my power to change someone's life seemed just a little more important.

Mark stepped back reluctantly as the song ended and a chest thumping rhythmic beat began belting out of the speakers surrounding the dance floor.

"Guess this one's out?" he asked with a grin.

"Um yep, this one's out," I said returning his grin, as I made my way through the exuberant dancing around me to walk to the edge of the dance floor. We stood on the sidelines watching the other couples on the floor. My jaw dropped when I saw Shawn and Sam dancing like pros to the fast-paced song. They looked like they belonged on "Dancing with the Stars." Their natural grace made the complicated song look like a simple ballad.

Obviously Shawn had inherited all the dancing genes in our family, leaving me with none, I thought dryly.

Sam and Shawn gained the attention of the DJ as he began a commentary of their extreme dance steps. Before I knew it, the dance floor was cleared of all the dancers except for them. With the help of the DJ, the crowd started cheering them on, clapping and stomping their feet as they danced their way across the floor. I was amazed to see kids that had engaged in gossiping about us now cheering Sam along. Maybe watching Sam stand up for herself had helped us turn a new corner. Their enthusiasm made Mark and me cheer harder. Grudgingly, I had to admit that maybe going to prom wasn't the worst idea.

"I'm going to the bathroom," I told Mark as the DJ started another adrenaline racing song. Making my way out of the ballroom, I glanced back one last time when I heard the crowd cheering even louder as Shawn completed a series of eight flips across the dance floor. Shaking my head at the irony of my own flesh and blood having such natural grace, I went searching for a bathroom. Strolling across the marble floor, I admired the elegant artwork spaced tastefully around the lobby. Having a mother that loved art gave me the knowledge to recognize talented and expensive art when I saw it. Each piece that graced the walls here would do well in a museum where everyone could admire it. I felt out of place as I walked through the imposing space. Sure, my mom had sunk a large amount of money into St. Briggets so I could finish my high school career there, but I had come to realize I just wasn’t the Prada kind of girl. I didn't belong in this lifestyle and I felt very inadequate pretending I did. Shaking my head, I finally found the restrooms.

There were no signs stating what they really were. The only clue indicating I had found the restrooms was the nude statue of the woman placed discretely by one of the doors, while a male bust sat next to the second door.

Wow, I guess simple signs reading men or women were just too trashy for a hotel like this, I thought, as I pushed my way into the bathroom, pausing to admire the elegance of the room. It contained a sitting area off to the left with deep lavender plush benches to rest on. Floor-to-ceiling gilded mirrors were spaced out periodically around the room. Each sink sat atop its own pedestal with scented soaps in a glass bowl on the ledge of each one. Separate rooms with heavy doorknobs housed individual toilets, instead of traditional stalls with those uncooperative locks that you have to jimmy to keep them from opening at the wrong time. A soft light automatically came on as I stepped inside, like I had entered a sacred chamber or something. As I closed the door behind me I heard the outer door being opened.

I groaned to myself when I heard the high pitched voices of my arch nemeses from school. "I don't know who she's trying to fool in the dress she's wearing," I heard Lacey saying in her usual snotty voice.

"I know, right? She's still trash. I saw her outside her house one day. You should see the shack she calls home. I'd rather be dead, than caught living there," Amber said snidely.

My face started to heat up as I realized who they were talking about.

"Besides, who wears a dress that long anyway? Mark would have to cut it off at the knees to get to anything. Well, that's if he's even interested in finding what's there. She makes Fridge look easy," Katie, the last of the trio said in her typical whiney voice that made me want to hang myself just hearing it.

"Yeah, well one thing's for sure, Sam is a bitch. She may act like she's better than us, but with the way she's flaunting her shit out there with that loser, it's obvious her knees have been apart more than they've been together," Lacey said just as I opened the door.

What I did next I would like to have said was out of my control, but I knew exactly what I was doing. Instead of trying to redirect their hostile evil emotions, I embraced them making them my own. Maybe I was using my own embarrassment that was caused by them mocking my house, but it was more the fact that they had attacked my family that propelled me from the stall in one quick movement. I must have looked like a psycho from some cheesy slasher movie, because all three backed up against the far wall with their hands out in front of them. In one concentrated burst, I threw all their hatred and my own back at them. I could feel it sliding out of me like liquid fire. The rage I unleashed was unlike any that I had ever felt, and the power of it sent them to their knees.

Gasping for breath, they clutched their chests, losing all color from their faces. Lacey was the first to collapse in a heap. I backed up, horrified, as my concentration was broken by the bathroom door opening and a group of my classmates spilling in.

"What the Hell happened?" I heard someone say as I fled the scene.

"Lacey? What's going on?" another one said before I was out of earshot.

I raced across the lobby, sobbing uncontrollably as I burst through the doors at the same time Mark reached my side. "What happened?" he asked as he tried to read the jumbled thoughts that raced through my head. Still sobbing, I could only shake my head as I sunk into his arms.

What had I done? Did I kill them? I was pretty sure what I had just done would strip me of my invisible wings in a heartbeat.

"Take her home now," I heard Haniel say behind me in a booming voice.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, bewildered, as they joined us.

"Go now," Haniel said again, not answering either question. "I will handle this. Get to your house and I will deal with her when I get there," he said, obviously meaning me.

Mark shepherded me out of the room without another word. I gripped his hand in one of my own while Sam grabbed my other hand. I wondered if she would still be holding my hand if she knew what I had just done. The pale faces flashed through my mind again as I remembered their limp bodies tangled together on the bathroom floor. I felt Mark cringe beside me as he picked the mental picture from my mind. Hanging my head, I felt hot tears sliding down my checks as I climbed into his SUV. Had I not been so stressed, I would have been startled at the void of emotion left in me. I had left it all in the bathroom, with three snotty girls that didn't deserve what I had just done. Whose worst crimes were overindulgent parents.

Chapter 5