by RJ Blain
Two bodies, the kind that didn’t get back up and walk after death, decomposed just outside the door. I couldn’t tell what had killed them, and I didn’t want to touch them to find out.
Double gross.
A dry wind washed over the back of my neck, bringing with it heat and the scent of a sun-scorched desert. I tensed, tore my gaze from the corpses, and turned.
King Tutankhamun’s death mask glowed with a golden light. “You have called. We have answered. What would you have us do?”
I had no idea how the mummies had gotten to Georgia from New York so fast, but I decided against questioning it. Ginger crouched at my feet, and a dark, skittering wave erupted from beneath his wrappings. The emerald carapaces of scarabs glinted in the unnatural light, converging around my feet.
No matter how badly I wanted to, I wouldn’t scream. I inhaled, held my breath, and waited for the urge to subside. “I need to kill some people, and possibly some devils and demons, too. They’re tricking people into giving up their souls. They intend to murder the living tenants of this building.”
“You mean to protect them.” King Tutankhamun bowed. “Very well. Ten living beings reside in this space.”
It could go either way if he counted me, too. “If I can, I will. An archangel told me they planted some sort of bomb to rupture a gas line and kill the residents tonight.”
“And you believe this archangel?” If King Tutankhamun had eyebrows, I bet his would’ve been taking a hike to his hairline.
“Can archangels lie?” I countered.
“We can’t,” Michael answered from behind me. “I thought I said not to wander.”
“I didn’t wander. I deliberately meandered.”
The mummies’ laughter rasped.
“Your guess was correct. The devils obscured the contracts, deceiving the victims. Their souls have been recategorized as wrongfully threatened.”
I thought of the worst scenario and considered it the likeliest possibility. “But the bargain holds if they die?”
“Yes.”
“Nuking the city with archangel power would be bad, correct?”
“My brother must have picked you to annoy me.”
“He’s an ass like that, so probably. Can you write up some contracts for me?”
“I could, I suppose. Why?”
“I’m going to fight fire with fire. The devil gave me money. I’m going to buy out their contracts.”
“You’re going to what?”
“I’m going to buy out their contracts. I’m going to have you write a contract that releases their souls from the bargain. I’ll pay for hotels for them for two months and relocate them to a safe city.”
“Boston is safe.”
“Boston, then. Two months, give them a hundred dollars a day to spend on food, necessities, and clothes. Stipulate those capable of work must look for a new job.”
“And if they’re uneducated?”
“I’ll figure it out after you get them to Boston safely.”
“Me?”
“You wanted to kill them, so you get to help them move. They’re your responsibility now.”
By the time I finished with Michael, he’d name me the Sphinx of Delegation, and I’d love every minute of it.
“You’re making this complicated.”
I smiled. “You’ll love the next part, then.”
“You want me to identify everyone who was likewise tricked and arrange their relocation.”
Mind readers simplified so much. “Yes. While you’re doing that, I’m going to recruit some mummies.”
“Do you even know how?”
“Not a clue in hell. I’m making this up as I go. Chop, chop. You have souls to save, Michael. I have a bomb to find.”
“Second door on the right in the utility closet. It will detonate in three hours. I recommend tossing it into the ocean.”
“And kill the fish?”
If Michael had a head, I was certain he’d be glaring at me. “You are an insufferably caring human. The alternative is yourself. I suggest you send one of your—”
“Ocean!” Ginger squealed, galloping through the doorway and down the hall on all fours. The swarm of scarabs followed, and when they finished surging over the rotting bodies, they left two skeletons in their wake.
“He might have been dropped on his head as a baby,” I muttered.
King Tutankhamun snickered. “He’s senile.”
I opted against reminding the mummy he was far beyond his prime. “Can you handle evacuating the living from the city, Michael?”
“It won’t be easy.”
“Recruit a few more angels. If you need more money, the devil’s paying. He’s already coerced Malcolm into handling real estate acquisitions, likely aware these people would need new homes after Wishing Well is destroyed. If he whines, just tell him I’m being nice to him because I’m making you angels do the footwork.”
The Archangel of Destruction, Healing, and the Herald of the End of Days sighed. “Very well.”
Ginger bounded down the hallway with a black-taped bundle in his mouth, his scarabs chasing after him.
“You have disturbing friends, little niece.”
“Says the headless herald of death, doom, and burns.”
“Try not to die. Replacing you would be very inconvenient.”
It truly sucked being me sometimes. “And trigger and unscheduled end of days,” I reminded him.
“Try not to let it go to your head.”
How was I supposed to steal control over a bunch of mummies? Long after Ginger had run off with the bomb and Michael had gone to do my bidding, I wondered what I could actually accomplish to help the people of Savannah, Atlanta, and Augusta. I regretted having sent Michael off, although I doubted he would share the secrets of the universe with me. At a loss of what to do, I shifted.
My magic’s choice of form and attire chilled me.
A full, traditional war khepresh strained my neck with its weight, and I wore a simple linen kalasiris, one ideal for moving. Keeping with ancient traditions, it barely covered my breasts, and if I needed to fight, I expected my clothes would be the first casualty.
Oh well. At least I had a badass crown.
While I wasn’t certain how I’d accomplish it, my next trick involved tricking the devil into exposing the culprits, their vessels, and anyone else involved with the murders of so many. I would enjoy killing them. I’d show them I wasn’t as nice or merciful as some liked to believe.
I’d draw out their deaths and make them suffer before tossing their souls to the devil for an eternity of misery and suffering.
At the rate I was going, I’d be as bad as an archangel by the end of the day. Since I wouldn’t indiscriminately murder anyone, I decided my next stop would be the hotel.
King Tutankhamun followed me, and he worried me almost as much as the archangels hell-bent on destruction. If I wanted to murder a few devils and their vessels myself, I needed to deal with the mummy in such a way I didn’t sting his pride and make him turn on me.
Kings needed something to rule, which gave me the perfect idea on how to get him out of my fur for a while. “How would you like to potentially lead a potential horde of mummies?”
“I would enjoy it.”
“I have a few ground rules.”
“Speak.”
“I got married this morning, and instead of spending time with Malcolm, I’m doing this shit. Despite being married in an impromptu eloping, this pisses me off. So, if any mummies refuse to cooperate with you, deal with them. Turn them into rags, scatter their dust, shove their scarabs up their asses for all I care. Give those who have bargained with Wishing Well two choices.”
“What choices?”
“They join us, or they die.”
“I can do that. I will enjoy it.”
“Good. Try not to pick a fight with Ginger, no matter how senile he may be. He’s still our friend. Are any of your other allies coming?”
“
The Lady brings them. She’s slower to awaken, but you’ll find her an acceptable companion. Allow me to deliver you to your king, then I will sound the war cry. Our enemies will regret their choice to defy us this day.”
I regretted my choices, too. Only an idiot would unleash the forces of the heavens, hell, and ancient Egypt on a city for the sake of the dead and dying. Not only did I need a raise, I needed a vacation—or a really long honeymoon. I could live with that.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Since Malcolm had the room keys, I needed to knock to get inside. My husband answered, grabbed me, and put his mouth to good use. A leash might control him—or keep him close so I could enjoy more of his kisses.
When he finally pulled away, I panted to catch my breath. “Are you going to do that every time I leave you unattended?”
“Probably.” He pulled me into the room. “Hello, King Tutankhamun.”
“The gods be with you, King Malcolm. I leave your queen in your care. I’ve work to do.” The mummy inclined his head and left, sand swirling in his wake.
“Do you think he has any idea how creepy that is?”
“Do you think he cares?”
“Probably not.” I peeked around Malcolm to find the devil and his brother playing cards on the bed. “Playtime’s over, boys. Gabriel, please help Michael evacuate those with bargained souls from the city—and pass the word he’s to coordinate the same efforts in Atlanta and Augusta as well. I’m taking responsibility for them. We may have found a loophole.”
“I’m aware. I’ve been monitoring the situation. You’ll save some this way. Not all, but some.”
“Would you archangels quit raining on my parade? Satin, I’m only charging you at cost for this. In exchange, you’ll give me the names of the devils, demons, and other sentients involved with Wishing Well’s activities. Categorize them by role and guilt.”
“How involved? There are investors.”
“If they’re aware of people being murdered for their souls, I want to know. They’re as guilty as the actual murderers if they’re knowingly funding the deaths.”
“The truth may hurt.”
Malcolm sighed. “I’m not involved, but I’m willing to bet my family is, and I have my suspicions about who hired the pyro.”
“Your speculations are correct,” Gabriel stated. “Kanika, I will spare your kelpie the discomfort of trying to tell you this truth. Your mother picked the pyro to maximize your chances of survival.”
My mother? I frowned.
“He means my wife,” Satin clarified. “The culprit made a bargain with my wife, which needed to be fulfilled, but she did so to favor you as much as she could, which I found out later. It works well, as it gives me proof of guilt.”
I turned to Malcolm, put my hands on my hips, and demanded, “Who?”
“Caitlin. My uncle knew, and I suspect he fed Bubba Eugene a bucket of lies to recruit his help—or not. It could go either way with that lot. If the target was me, all they’d have to do is get a picture—or follow me, identify you and your rental, and turn the pyro loose. The pyro could then claim he was after you when I was the actual target. It falls in line with how my clan likes to do business—and with how Caitlin likes to do business.”
My Malcolm was truly a black sheep among his family, and I didn’t want him any other way. “What good does killing you do if they wanted you as a breeding male?”
The devil snorted flame. “The goal was to force his demonic powers awake. If your male died, it’s no real loss. Caitlin would have then attempted to breed with a different Stewart. It’s clan politics, stupid ones, too. If they thought it through, they would’ve realized he’s a saltwater kelpie rather than a freshwater one. They underestimated your survivability. They also underestimated what would happen upon success. Their idea worked. It backfired, but it worked.”
I was quickly coming to the conclusion I would never understand devils and demons. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“He’s a kelpie. Traditionally, they have two uses for—”
“There’s no need to tell her this,” Malcolm snapped.
Satin growled, and flames sheathed his body. “I think otherwise.”
The two glared at each other.
“They’re idiots,” Gabriel confessed. “Most males are when they’re fighting over a female. Just ignore them.”
“Since you seem like the only reasonable adult here, how did their plan backfire?”
“Kelpies typically eat or breed with humans. Breeding with humans ensures a stronger bloodline.”
“Damn it, Gabriel!” Malcolm hissed.
“And?” I tapped my toe. “That doesn’t explain how their plan backfired.”
“Following the awakening of his demonic nature, which had already been on the rise before the incident with the pyro, he picked you over her. He won’t breed with her, which was the goal. He’ll also hound you for his little foals until the day you die,” the archangel replied. “Kelpie stallions of his nature have a tendency to fixate. They are extremists, kelpies. Either they’ll breed with anything that moves, or they’ll bond with a single female for life.”
“I don’t see the issue with this situation. Why are they being babies about it?”
“My brother doesn’t appreciate some kelpie stud treating his little cupcake like a broodmare,” Gabriel replied.
Huh. That made a startling amount of sense. “I suppose your brother will just have to mind his own business. Does this mean I can kill Caitlin now?”
“She’ll certainly try to kill you. She’s angry you took what she believes is hers by right. Kelpies can be rather idiotic.”
Malcolm sighed. “I’d argue, but I really can’t. He’s right.”
How was it I seemed like the only sane one in the room? I truly needed that raise and a vacation. “Gabriel, please go help Michael. Satin, I want that list. While you’re doing that, Malcolm and I will come up with a basic plan.”
Satin scowled at me. “How can you come up with a plan without any targets.”
I smiled my sweetest smile. “I plan on planning the many ways I can kill Caitlin.”
“You’re being rather possessive today, cupcake.”
“Get out and don’t bother me until you have my list!” I roared.
The devil and archangel fled.
“Should I be concerned?”
I hissed at him. “I’m done working for now. What comes after work?”
“Seduction,” he answered.
“Time for you to get to work, Malcolm.”
“It’s good to be the king.”
Magic worked in mysterious ways, as Malcolm discovered he could, with enough effort on his part, make me purr. I also clawed and bit, which he didn’t seem to mind.
Several hours later, the devil returned, and he wasn’t alone. I couldn’t see Him but feeling his presence in the room was enough to give me goosebumps. Malcolm paled and tensed.
I was grateful we’d managed to get dressed before their arrival.
“Michael has confirmed your suspicions and reported to the heavens. It has been reviewed, the past has been read, witnessed, and recorded. The Book of Names will be amended, and those tricked will be purged,” The Almighty declared.
His voice pieced through my head and gave me a headache I’d never forget. “Purged?” I demanded.
“Erased from this world, purified, and given three choices,” Satin explained. “Forgive my daughter. She’s sensitive about souls. It’s her nature.”
“Sphinxes have, since the beginning of all things, existed to vex me,” He replied, his tone amused. “Continue, my fallen son.”
The devil scowled. “Those purged will be given three choices. They may be reborn as new seeds, they may go to heaven, or they may serve me as a devil or demon. Their souls must not remain on the mortal coil unless they’re born anew. The heavens and my hells are joining forces, and we march to reclaim the dead that are rightfully ours.”
The devil refused
to look at either me or Malcolm, and I got the feeling He matched the fallen angel’s behavior. I frowned, crossed my arms, and lifted my chin. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Malcolm captured my hand in his and ran his fingers over the lines on my palm, and I almost regretted having shifted to human. I liked when he stroked my fur. “They’ll erase my clan for their involvement. They’re demons; their souls are the devil’s domain, and they’ve violated a universal law. The heavens and hells have a set host; that number never changes. For a new demon to be born, a devil must either be destroyed and leave the hell’s power sphere or another demon must die. If there are no seeds of life available, demons will have purely mortal children. That’s why neither God nor Satan can win their war; the battle is symbolic. They’re balanced, and they must remain so.”
Satin grunted but remained silent. He spoke, saying, “This remains the truth until the end of days, which is when the balance is broken, the world is destroyed, and it begins with new seeds of life. Two of those seeds are always the same.”
I found it interesting the circle of life ruled over all things, even the gods. “Good and evil?” I guessed.
“Yes,” Satin said. “For such objective things, they’re absolutes as well.”
What had I done to deserve the devil’s attention? I blamed my bargaining father—my biological one, who had obviously interfered in my affairs without bothering to make an appearance. I owed dear old dad a knuckle sandwich if I ever met him. “Since I’m not insane like the rest of you, what’s the most direct method of resolving this?”
“Assassination,” the incarnations of good and evil replied.
When He voted on death without reservation or hesitancy, I worried—and it reminded me that the Christian faith had a long, bloody history. “You want me to do the divine equivalent of a nuke, don’t you?”
“I know you’re against the idea, but it would be the most merciful choice,” the devil admitted. “Within ten minutes, it would be all over. We’ll have a great deal of work to do and many loose ends to clean up, but if you want the best way to end this, the kindest way is the Deus ex Machina.”