Free Color of Angels' Souls by Sophie Audouin-Mamikonian Page B

him.
    â€œHey man, leave some for the rest of us!” one of them said. “You’re going to make yourself sick if you get too close to the source! Only the Reds do stuff like that!”
    Jeremy frowned: the source? What were they talking about? He was suddenly filled with shame when he realized that he had been treating the two lovers like a gravy train, and not like human beings at all. He suddenly felt queasy. A bit bloated.
    â€œSorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize I was disturbing you.”
    â€œWell, if you eat the Mist then there won’t be as much left for the rest of us. It’s no big deal, but you should at least let us know. We thought there was something wrong with our two lovebirds. The Reds can be ferocious when they want to eat. They’ll stop at nothing—even ruining a nice little couple like these two.”
    Jeremy could sense the fear in the Angel’s voice. Well, well, well. It looked like life after death wasn’t as easy as you might think.
    â€œI’m really sorry. The next time I’ll be sure to give you a shout. Hey, speaking of the Reds. I’m trying to find a way to get rid of one. He’s trying to scare to death a little girl, and maybe you can tell me h—”
    â€œIf he’s a Red, that means he’s violent.” The blue Angels suddenly looked nervous. “Angels can’t kill each other—or at least, not easily anyway. But believe me, they can really rough you up. Whatever you do, don’t cross his tracks. And if he attacks you, fly away as quickly as you can!”
    â€œGotcha!” Jeremy said, then mumbled to himself: “If I only knew how to fly.”
    â€œThe next time you stop by, just give a shout and we’ll hear you,” said a pretty Blue with long blond hair. “I think we should be able to feed off these two for a long time—they just got married.”
    The Angels smiled at Jeremy and started to disappear.
    â€œHey, wait!” Jeremy yelled. “Why shouldn’t I get too close to the source?”
    The blond girl’s head reappeared.
    â€œBecause the emotions are really strong when they leave people’s bodies, and are a bit more diluted when you find them higher up. They’re easier to digest. You’re probably feeling a little nauseous, aren’t you?”
    Jeremy realized that he did feel a bit queasy.
    â€œYeah, you’re right,” he replied sheepishly. “OK, I’ll try not to eat too close to the source. But what do I have to do to fly?”
    â€œYou just have to imagine that you’re light,” she smiled. “Light as a feather. You’ll see; you’ll be flying before you know it—it’s easy! See you later!”
    This time she was gone for good.
    Jeremy sighed and contemplated the blissful couple. He bowed in their direction.
    â€œThank you for feeding me,” he said, “and I hope you’ll both be very, very happy together.”
    He turned away, then added in a whisper: “That way, I’ll always know where I can get a nice meal.”
    He trudged back toward Frank’s house, feeling lower than the ground.
    He had a guy to haunt.

4
The Taste of Guilt
    Jeremy didn’t learn much by spying on his stepfather. He appeared to be working on a lot of different deals, but never talked about any murders or hit men. When Frank decided to go to bed, Jeremy decided to follow suit, as it was best to adapt his rhythm to that of the living. There certainly was one good thing about the house: Empty bedrooms were hardly in short supply. Over the next four days, he did his best to get his bearings in the strange new world.
    Then the big day finally came: his funeral.
    After listening to the mass and nearly dying again—this time of boredom (when he had so many things to do)—Jeremy followed his mother, stepfather, and Angela out of the church to their limousine. They made a gloomy little