If I Die

If I Die
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KAYLEE CAN SEE DEATH COMING. NOW SHE MUST FACE HER OWN. As a teen banshee, Kaylee’s blood-curdling screams are a death knell for others. Yet she never expected to see her own name at the top of a reaper’s list. Scheduled to die within days, Kaylee knows her magic can’t change her fate.Worse, on top of worrying about her own demise, she needs to save mortal best friend Emma from the clutches of a deadly Netherworld creature. As Kaylee’s time on earth slips away, troubled banshee boyfriend Nash and his reaper brother Tod refuse to give up on Kaylee.They’re ready to unearth murky family secrets to give her a last chance at life, as their fight to save Kaylee becomes a battle for her love.‘Vincent is a welcome addition to the genre’ Kelley Armstrong SOUL SCREAMERS The last thing you hear before you die

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Praise for the novels of

New York Times bestselling author

RACHEL VINCENT

“Twilight fans will love it.” —Kirkus Reviewson My Soul to Take

“A high-octane plot with characters you can really care

about. Vincent is a welcome addition to this genre!” Kelley Armstrong on Stray

“I liked the character and loved the action. I look

forward to reading the next book in the series.” Charlaine Harris on Stray

“Fans of those vampires will enjoy this new

crop of otherworldly beings.” —Booklist

“My Soul to Take grabs you from the very beginning.” —Sci-Fi Guy

“Wonderfully written characters … A fast-paced,

engrossing read that you won’t want to put down. A story that I wouldn’t mind sharing with my pre-teen … A book like this is one of the reasons that I add authors to my auto-buy list. This is definitely a keeper.” —TeensReadToo.com

Also available fromRachel Vincent

Published by


Soul Screamers MY SOUL TO TAKE MY SOUL TO SAVE MY SOUL TO KEEP MY SOUL TO STEAL IF I DIE

Coming soon …

BEFORE I WAKE

If I Die

Rachel Vincent


www.miraink.co.uk

This one is for everyone who wrote to ask

what happens next. Here you go. Now ask me again.

Acknowledgments

Thanks, as always, to my critique partner Rinda Elliot, who listens (and believes me) every time I swear that this one is the BEST ONE YET!!!

Thanks to my editor, Mary-Theresa Hussey, for unwavering enthusiasm for the Soul Screamers series, and for never even flinching at what I’ve put Kaylee and her friends through.

Thanks to Natashya Wilson, for input and encouragement.

Thanks to everyone behind the scenes at Harlequin Teen. You’ve made this possible. Kaylee and I thank you.

And, of course, thanks to #1, who puts up with me and with the multitude of fictional characters who take up most of my time and attention. Someday, more of both will be yours. I swear.

1

I used to think death was the worst thing that could happen to a person. I also used to think it was the last thing that could happen. But if I’ve learned anything from surrounding myself with reapers, and living nightmares, and my fellow bean sidhes, it’s this: I was wrong on both counts….

“What are you doing here before the warning bell?” I asked, sliding into my seat in first period algebra II with four minutes to spare. “Isn’t that one of the signs of an impending apocalypse?”

“If so, this is how I want to go out.” Emma Marshall sighed, digging the textbook from the bag on her lap. “Enjoying the view.”

I followed my best friend’s gaze to the front of the class, where Mr. Beck—hired in the wake of Mr. Wesner’s untimely demise—was writing math problems on the white board with green ink. His numbers were blockish and completely vertical; he had the best handwriting of any teacher at Eastlake. But Emma’s focus was several feet below his numbers, where the jeans encouraged by the new “Spirit Fridays” policy proved that Mr. Beck was much more dedicated to physical fitness than the average high school faculty member.

“And I suppose your sudden interest in math is purely academic, right?”

Her grin widened as she set the book on her desk, and it fell open to the place marked with a fat, purple-print emery board. “I don’t know if ‘pure’ is totally accurate, but I haven’t figured out how to entirely avoid academia in the school setting. I think the most we can hope for is something pretty to look at, to distract us from the inherent pain of the educational process.”

I laughed. “Spoken like a true underachiever.”

Emma could have been a straight-A student, but she was satisfied coasting by on effortless Bs, except in French and math, the only subjects that didn’t seem to come naturally for her. And the hot new math teacher had done nothing to improve her grades. Thanks to the aesthetic distraction, she was less inclined than ever to pay attention to what was written on the board and in the book.

Not that I could blame her. Mr. Beck was undeniably yummy, from his dark, tousled hair to his bright green eyes and the scuffed sneakers he always wore, even with slacks.

“He’s only twenty-two,” Em said, when she caught me looking. “Less than a year out of college. I bet this is his first teaching job.”

“How do you know that?” I asked, as Mr. Beck set his marker down and dug through his desk drawer for something.

“Heard it from Danica Sussman. He’s been tutoring her after school, to keep her eligible for softball.”

“Where is Danica?” I asked, on the tail end of the late bell. She’d been out sick for a couple of days, but she’d never missed on a game day before—Danica was supposed to pitch that afternoon.

“Still sick, I guess,” Em whispered, as Mr. Beck started taking roll. She unfolded a half-blank sheet of notebook paper. “Did you do the homework?”

I rolled my eyes and pulled out my own work. “What happened to your new interest in math?”

“It doesn’t extend to homework.”

“Kaylee Cavanaugh?” Mr. Beck called from the front of the room, and I glanced up, startled, certain we’d been caught cheating. But Beck was just standing there with his roll book in hand, waiting for my answer.



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