Color of Angels' Souls by Sophie Audouin-Mamikonian

ate some blue Mist that was floating out, then headed back to Allison’s place. For some reason, he didn’t want to feed off the young woman. And he didn’t want to leave her either.
    It turned out to be a good thing that she had such a big bed: He carefully lay down next to her and dropped off to sleep.
    When Jeremy woke up he was naked again, and …
    â€¦ Allison was staring at him.
    â€œYou’re such a handsome fellow, you know that?” she purred in a soft voice.
    He yelled out in surprise, jumped backward and fell flat on the floor. Then Jeremy heard the dog yap in response to Allison’s words, and he realized that Frankenstein had been sleeping in Jeremy’s spot on the bed. She had been talking to the dog.
    â€œYeah, I know.” She sighed. “Flattery will get me nowhere with you. You want to eat your breakfast and go for a walk. Maybe not in that order. All right, I’m coming already!”
    She grumbled and climbed slowly out of the bed to take care of Frankenstein, while Jeremy, his heart still pounding in his chest, quickly got to his feet and scampered out to make himself another loincloth. Being naked made him feel funny.
    When he came back, after having eaten his own breakfast as well, Allison was already all set to go. She went down to her car and drove to a school about twenty minutes away. Jeremy had gotten in the car with her, and now followed her into her classroom. There were many blue Angels and a few Reds in the room. The Blues were whispering in the children’s ears to try to help them, while the Reds did their best to distract the most undisciplined kids. Jeremy was once again struck by the fact that the living were much more receptive to the red Angels than to the Blue ones. Some of the more lively kids, the brightest ones, even seemed able to hear what the Angels were saying.
    He was admiring how well Allison was looking after her kids—helping one over here, then giving encouragement to another over there, under the watchful eye of a gray-haired teacher—when suddenly, a very familiar voice made him snap to attention.
    Claire, his mother, walked into the classroom. Her makeup was impeccable, as was her tight-fitting black dress and her matching gray shoes and handbag. But she couldn’t hide how desolate she must be feeling inside.
    What the heck was his mother doing here?
    The older teacher greeted her warmly, which showed that the two knew each other. Allison suddenly turned pale—and even more so when Angela appeared behind her mother, her eyes still slightly glazed from five straight days of crying, almost without interruption. It broke Jeremy’s heart.
    Once again, a dirty brown Mist—from feelings of guilt—began rising from Allison, but also the darker-colored Mists that showed she was afraid. Jeremy raised his eyes in surprise, and gave Allison an inquisitive look: He had finally realized how Allison had gotten her hands on his business card.
    Angela had given it to her.
    A couple years earlier, his mother had come to visit him at his office with Angela. Even though Jeremy loathed Frank, he knew he couldn’t show it to Angela, who he had snubbed along with her parents back then. He had been very cold and polite with the girl, as if she were just some stranger. Of course, she had adored her big brother, and he recalled that she had snatched up a few of his business cards. But why had she given one to Allison, and even more importantly, why had he been murdered when—
    He held his breath, playing the scene over in his mind. Of course! When he had turned into an Angel, just after his death, he remembered seeing the killer.
    He had been just about to kill Allison as well.
    Allison had repeated over and over how it was all her fault. That he had died because of her. She had probably been waiting for hours out in front of his apartment building. She couldn’t have known that he would come home so late that