Read Online Soul Crossed by Lisa Gail Green - Free Book Online Page B

of Greek myths during Ancient History. He is so different from the player I assumed he was back on that first day. Which only makes me more miserable.
    My phone rings, and I am forced to seek cover behind a tree as the two boys disappear in the distance. Ms. Alvarez has never called before. My hand shakes slightly as I lift it to my ear.
    “Hello?”
    The familiar squashing bubble of light surrounds me, and I am transported to the same dreary classroom as always. I often wonder why, if Ms. Alvarez can make it look any way she chooses, the walls are bare and the furniture so sparse. If it were up to me, we’d have a penthouse view of New York while training. Better still, if it were up to me, I’d be back in Bothell, living the life stolen from me far too soon.
    “Sit down, please, Miss Howard.” Uh-oh. Miss Howard. Not Grace.
    “Sure, Ms. Alvarez. What’s up?” I slip into my empty seat and interlace my fingers one way and then another. She doesn’t look happy.
    “Mr. Griffith would like to speak to you in private,” she announces as though I’ve somehow usurped her authority.
    “Oh. All right,” I say. I wonder what he could possibly have to say to me. He’s always been friendly, but he’s never given me more than a moment’s notice since that first visit.
    “I want you to be polite.”
    “Of course,” I say, a little offended she would assume otherwise. “But what does he want to talk to me about?” She studies me, and her small brown eyes narrow into slits.
    “I don’t know. But I expect you to be accommodating. Mr. Griffith is a very busy Angel. He reports to The Man Himself directly, and very few Angels have that honor. So his time is precious, and I expect you not to waste it.” I am taken aback at this information and now more than a little nervous. I twirl a strand of hair and chew on the end.
    “Don’t bore him with details of your assignment even if he’s polite enough to ask,” she says.
    “I’ll do my best, Ms. Alvarez.” I can’t help clipping my words. She’s acting like I’m some delinquent child. She is in my face now, closer than she’s ever been. Her breath smells like caramel, sickeningly sweet. But her eyes are cold and hard, and I am afraid.
    “Your fate is in my hands, Grace.” Her voice is even and lower than normal. “Work with me and you will ascend to great heights. Get sassy and you will find even I have limits. Am I clear?”
    “Yes, Ma’am.” She searches my face for signs of hidden disrespect. Satisfied, she rises just as Mr. Griffith enters the room.
    “Ah, Mr. Griffith! Grace is right here, just as you requested. Would you like some tea?”
    “No thank you, Irma.” He waits patiently until she gets the hint. She fiddles with her robes, stealing one last warning glance at me, and bustles out of the room. I can’t help being reminded of a large hen.
    Mr. Griffith looks at me kindly. He’s one of those guys who just seems ageless. His head is completely smooth, his ebony skin stretched taught so I can’t find a single wrinkle, even on his brow. His large obsidian eyes twinkle with a warmth that at once puts me at ease, erasing the panic I feel from Ms. Alvarez’s warning.
    “Hello, Grace. How are you today?” his voice reminds me of the lullabies my father used to sing.
    “Hi, Mr. Griffith,” I say in a small voice. “I’m fine. How are you?”
    “Why, I’m well, thank you for asking.” He answers as though no one else has ever asked him this before, which is crazy—that’s just the proper response, right?
    “You wanted to talk to me,” I say.
    “How are you getting along with Irma? She can be a bit…rigid.” He glances at the tea cups on the desks before us, and they turn to steaming latte’s with cinnamon on top.
    I grasp mine, soaking in the warmth. “She’s trying so hard to make me into a perfect Angel. I just hope I’m up to the task.”
    “You know, Grace, Irma had a tough life on Earth. She lost her family to typhoid