“Council of Ten? There’s a Council?” she asked.
“Yes, of course,” he responded. “In the end, we all answer for our actions – whether to our gods, to the universe, or to our own conscience as we leave this life. For me and my kind, there is no doubt that there is a heaven and a hell – Hades, Elysium, call it what you will – or that residents of both those places exist. For now, I hang between the two. I believe that I’ve learned what is needed to become a pure spirit. Still, the Powers won’t acknowledge that until I’ve convinced someone who is already pure. For me, that is you.”
“Why me,” she asked. “What makes me special?”
“I answered your call,” he said simply.
“My call?” she was confused. “I never called you.”
“I heard you…your pain. When he…” he let the sentence trail off.
“He? You mean Ryan?” she was incredulous.
“Yes,” he replied. “I felt your pain when he…died. I came to you, stayed with you.”
Her eyes pooled with tears. “You’ve been with me since then?”
“Yes. Every moment…in some way or another,” he said.
Her mind spun back through those awful months, all the way back to that darkest day. To the moments when she thought her world had ended, and yet, somehow, she’d felt cocooned in some way.
“I could sense you…” she whispered. “I thought it was…Ryan…his spirit, comforting me. It was you? Xander…” The name came to her lips involuntarily. She said it again, as if testing it. “Xander.”
He nodded. “I didn’t know how to protect you from those feelings, aside from trying to wrap you in warmth.” His smile was almost sheepish.
“I would have gone off the edge if it hadn’t been for that,” she acknowledged. “I told myself Ryan was with me because I couldn’t stand the thought of living without him. I was certain I was dying too.”
Xander remained impassive. “His spirit is in a good place,” he assured her. “He can see you…but you’re part of my journey now.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “This is too much!”
“I understand,” he kept his tone neutral.
“What happens if this doesn’t work out? Do you find someone else?”
“No, you are my last chance.”
“So, then what? You would go to …” She faltered.
“I would go to hell,” he finished.
“I don’t know what to say. I need to think,” Becky stammered.
“Of course.” He withdrew quietly, rising from the bed, moving to stand at the foot, his tall form still as a statue.
“Just…give me time, ok? I have to process this.” She rubbed her hand over her face, and he nodded.
“Yes, take some time,” he murmured as he retreated into the shadows and faded into the darkness, leaving nothing but the echo of his voice in the night.
Time was something he no longer had.
Chapter Twelve
Rebecca went to work in a daze the next morning. Rising, dressing, the drive to the office. It all past by in a blur of activity that barely registered in her awareness. By the time lunch rolled around, she’d managed to bumble through several tasks…badly.
“Yo! Becky…Rebecca!” Fingers snapped in front of her nose. “Rebecca North! Calling Rebecca North!” Rosie snapped her fingers again. “Chick, if you’re not going to pay attention to me, at least have the good manners to tell me you’re not listening, rather than nodding and smiling blankly while I babble.”
“Ummm, what?” Becky blinked in slow-witted confusion.
“I just asked if you were planning on booking a ticket to the moon for the next Guns ‘n Roses concert, and you answered yes,” Rosie shot back, rolling her eyes. “Are you going to spend the rest of the day in zombie mode, or are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
Becky blinked again, rearranging the colored markers on her desk while she collected her thoughts. She frowned at an untouched coffee cup next to her workstation. What looked like it may once have been a decent cappuccino had gone cold and congealed at some point during the last couple of hours. She had absolutely no recollection of making the coffee or bringing it back to her desk. She rubbed her eyes, sighed.
“I’m so sorry, Rosie,” she apologized to her friend, “I had a bad night, and I’m a bit bleary today.”
“You don’t say,” Rosie replied. “You’ve been on autopilot for weeks, but today is the worst yet. You realize you’ve spent an hour regenerating a logo that we already submitted last week, right?”
Becky glanced at her screen in surprise. “What—? Oh jeez,” she muttered, scowling at the image centered in her design program. “What a waste of time.”
“Yip,” responded Rosie. “My sentiments exactly. And I’ve been feeling that way for days, hon. You know I love you like a sister, but this phase of yours is getting out of hand. I’ve covered for you at the last couple of meetings, but Jeff is starting to smell a rat. You can’t keep on like this, and to tell the truth, it’s making me grumpy. I have my own shit to deal with – I can’t be waiting around trying to catch the balls you drop. Especially when you refuse to tell me what’s going on!” She had her hands on her hips and was tapping her toe – typical ‘Rosie on the Warpath’ stance. Becky gave a weak smile; she honestly couldn’t blame her friend for her frustration. She’d known she’d let things slip a bit lately but hoped it wasn’t bad enough to be noticeable, but she’d been lying to herself. The advertising industry wasn’t kind to fumblers – deadlines happened daily, and if she missed one, the team felt it. The fact that no one else had picked up her chaotic emotional state yet meant that Rosie had been doing double-time to carry her. She felt awful.
“I’m so sorry, Rosie!” She reached out and put a hand on her friend’s arm. “You’re absolutely right. I owe you an apology.”
“Yes, you do. And an explanation.” Rosie’s mouth was set in a determined line.
Becky nodded. “Of course I do,” she conceded. “It’s just so hard to understand what’s going on right now that I’m not sure I can explain it.” Her friend raised a doubtful eyebrow. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try,” Becky rushed on. “Just not at the office, okay? It’s too busy, and I’m battling to focus as it is. Come over for dinner tonight? I’ll make pasta, and we can chat over a nice bottle of red. Say yes?” Her eyes pleaded. “I can’t stand it when you’re angry with me.” She swallowed, suddenly aware that tears weren’t far off.
“Well, obviously I’ll come around, darling!” Rosie responded. “You know I’m not truly angry. I’m just really worried. I don’t mind covering for you – I’d do anything for you! But I need to understand what’s going on so I can try to help you.” She put her hand over Becky’s where it rested on her arm, squeezed. “You’re my ‘family’ – you know that, right? And family looks out for one another.”
Becky gave a tight little smile in response, really fighting back the tears now. “Yes, family! I’m so sorry I’m putting you through this, Rose. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Don’t even think about that, because you’ll never have to do without me. Just don’t shut me out. You know I’m a control freak,” Rosie winked, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll follow you back to your place after work, and you can tell Mama Rosie all about it.” She stepped forward and slipped her arms around Rebecca’s shoulders, encircling her in a warm hug. Becky sniffed and hugged her back, then straightened her shoulders.
“Right, I’d better pull myself together now! I’ve wasted enough time today, and I’m not letting you drag me out of the poop this time.” She flicked her mouse over her screen and shut down the file on her screen. “I’ll start by working on the right logo over lunch to catch up.” She grinned ruefully. “And then I’ll get a head start on the new Wingford pitch straight after.”
“There’s my girl!” Rosie grinned back. “The Wingford project is actually overdue already,” she laughed. “But don’t sweat,
I managed to wangle an extension.”
“Oh, lordy!” Becky face-palmed. “I’d better get a wiggle on then. And maybe we’ll have to do dinner a little later tonight – I’m going to stick around here until I’m caught up.”
“No sweat, babe,” her friend chirped back. “I’ll wait till you’re done. God knows I have plenty to keep me busy too.”
“Baby, you’re the best!” Becky grinned, new energy surging.
“Don’t I know it!” Rosie stood and headed to the door. “I’ll grab us a fresh couple of coffees.” She grimaced at the grey gunk in Becky’s cup as she scooped it up on the way out. “The Dream Team is back in action!”
***
Xander whirled and paced across the room, stopped, and then paced back in the opposite direction. Then repeated the action. And again.
“Dude!” Axel snapped out. “Can you quit it already? You’re giving me a headache!”
“Bullshit! The undead don’t get headaches,” Alaric retorted. Axel flipped him the bird. He was lounging on a sofa, the heel of one square-toed boot resting on the beige upholstery. “Did your mother never teach you to keep your feet off the furniture?”
“She tried,” the kid shot back, “but I do what I fucking want. Speaking of fucking, did I ever tell you what your mama taught me to do?” He wiggled his eyebrows and leered suggestively. Alaric rolled his eyes and turned away, attention back on Xander, who continued his relentless pacing.
“Something on your mind, friend?” Alaric asked. He, too, was seated on a couch, though lounging had never been his style. He leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, chin resting on the back of his interlaced fingers. Surveyed the dark-haired man who prowled across the room like a caged panther. “Anaxandridas!” he said sharply. Xander stopped short.
“I…I am sorry,” he sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, frowning. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“Would that ‘something’ happen to be a blue-eyed blonde with the face of an angel?” Alaric grinned, then stopped when Xander shot him a look that could melt rubber. “How are things progressing with your…” he sought his words carefully, “your lady?”
“Good,” Xander bit out sharply, then grimaced. “Not good. I don’t know,” he conceded. “I’m at a loss.”
Axel quirked a dark eyebrow. “Ahhh, poor baby. Bitch not biting?” He swung one long, denim-encased leg over the side of his couch and tucked a cushion behind his head. Xander spun and took a step in his direction, fury radiating from him in waves.
“Shut the fuck up! You have no idea what you are talking about!” he ground out through clenched teeth, his hands curled into tight fists at his sides.
“Cut it out, Axel,” Alaric intervened. “Stop being a dick.” The biker chuckled, unapologetic. Alaric returned to the warrior. “At a loss?”
“I’m either at a breakthrough phase, or things are about to go very badly,” Xander replied, flashing a scowl at Axel and willing his temper to ease up. The asshole fixed him with a lazy grin but knew better than to make another wiseass comment. The Council generally left them to their own devices, but after spending their lives earning a place in Purgatory, causing trouble in the afterlife wouldn't get them into heaven.
“Why do you believe this?” Alaric continued calmly. He’d been a steady man in life, and he maintained his calm demeanor in the spirit world. “Has something happened?”
Xander took a breath, exhaled heavily, rubbing his eyes. “Yes. She’s seen me, knows who I am.”
Alaric made an exasperated sound. “We already discussed this, Xander. She can’t see you, it is impossible!”
“She has seen me,” Xander repeated, more firmly.
“But—” Alaric tried to interrupt, but Xander stared him down, black eyes blazing, his jaw set.
“She. Has. Seen. Me!” he hissed. “We spoke. We touched…she touched me!”
Alaric blinked in surprise. From his place across the room, Axel regarded the two with sharpened interest.
“I don’t know how it happened. All I know is that our encounters have become increasingly…real,” Xander continued. “Last night, I went to her as her past lover. While we were together, I…revealed myself.” He was struggling for the right words, stumbled through his attempt at describing the situation. “I did not want to take her while bearing the shape of another man!” He could feel his rage rising again at the thought of it, knew the other two were scrutinizing him. At another time, he would have manually wiped the smirk off Axel’s bastard face. Today he needed answers, answers that did not seem to be within their scope of understanding.
“This is…new to me,” Alaric admitted. While Xander had existed in the plane of Purgatory far longer than he had, Alaric was still considered an expert on the world in which they existed. While there was certainly no ‘mentorship for baby incubi’ program in play, most newcomers ended up under his wing at some point. Which was probably why the headstrong Axel had chosen to stick with him. Even now, the younger man waited for what he was about to say.
“This is a matter for the Council,” he finally answered. “They’ll steer you right.”
Xander shook his head, hawkish features a study of frustration. “They confuse me,” he finally said. “On one hand, I have several who seem to encourage me to go ahead and develop things further, while others are adamant that I’m doing the wrong thing. My soul is at stake, but if it means endangering her, I don’t want to take a chance.”
“Pussy!” snorted Axel, though maintaining a safe distance. “Who cares about a bit of fluff! Do what you gotta do, man. You—” He stopped short as Alaric shot him a glance that told him to zip it.
“Anaxandridas, this is your journey. Clearly, there are factors at play that defy our understanding. I guess there’s no set of rules that governs us completely, we simply work according to what has been done before us.
“I agree with you there, man,” Axel piped up. “We’re demons, for fucks’ sake. You wanna tell me we gotta stick to the rules? What rules, anyhow? If you wanna follow some book that everyone argues about anyway, ole Xandy here’s been around a thousand years before half of it was written. Besides, who says that shit applies to you if you weren’t ever a Christian?”
Xander had to bite back a chuckle at the man’s logic. “Fair point, biker,” he commented. “So, what were you, if not Christian? Heathen? Heretic?”
“Nah,” Axel ran a hand through his hair, “I was a Buddhist, man.”
The other two men cracked up laughing. Down a nearby corridor, a passerby heard the comment and snorted.
“A Buddhist? Are you for real?” hooted Alaric. “Brother, you rode in a biker gang! You landed up here after you were shot in a botched drug deal.”
“Fuck off!” Axel snapped, uncharacteristically self-conscious. “None of that was my idea. The brothers did some deals on the side, and I wasn’t one to interfere. I was just there for the ladies.” He waggled his eyebrows. “And I was all for spreading ‘piece’ on earth, you read me?”
Alaric continued to laugh, then shrugged dismissively. “Lost cause.” He turned back to Xander. “Our ‘Buddhist’ friend may be misguided, but he has a point,” he said. “There really isn’t any set of rules governing our realm. Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps your case is real, even though I’ve never seen anything like it. If anyone has been around long enough to have experienced everything that exists between heaven and hell, it’s you!”
“I hope you’re right, friend,” Xander replied. “But even if that is so, what does it mean? What am I supposed to do?”
“I still can’t answer that question. But if anyone will help you, it’ll be the Council.”
Xander heaved a sigh. He didn’t relish the idea of yet another chew-out session, but there probably was no other way.
***
On another plane entirely, several Council members had concerns of their own.
“The Spartan seems to be finding his path with the woman,” Lilith said to Jezebel
. The other woman nodded.
“Against all odds,” she admitted. “There’s something that’s troubling me, however…”
“The…other?” Lilith asked.
“Stella…” Salazar pitched in, his voice drawing an automatic frown from Lilith. “There is an interference at play.”
“Yes.” She hated to agree with him, but she felt he was right.
“Something is wrong with her energy,” Jezebel intoned darkly. “I sense something…from here.”
“That’s not possible!” Lilith argued. “We would know if there’d been a force sent to intervene. The ‘powers that be’ like to play by the rules.”
Salazar’s bark of laughter incensed her.
“Since when did Satan play by the rules?” he asked, his sarcasm barely disguised.
“I don’t think it runs that deep,” Lilith replied. Jezebel nodded in agreement.
“No, not that deep. It’s dark though…something dark is within that woman,” she mused. “Do you think…?”
“A mutiny?” Salazar asked, rubbing a finger over his upper lip in thought. “It’s not impossible. But who?”
“It could only be…one of us,” Jezebel’s voice had a somber edge. “One of the Council.”
Lilith shook her head, not wanting to consider the possibility. “No! We’re too closely bound. We would feel it!”
“Eternity’s a long time, Lilith,” Salazar argued. “Someone may have found a way…”
Lilith’s face darkened at the thought. “It would be unprecedented. But if it’s true…”
“We may have trouble on our hands,” Salazar acknowledged.
***
“So! Spit it out, what’s the deal with you lately?” Rosie was leaning against a counter in Becky’s neat little kitchen, a freshly poured glass of cabernet in hand. Becky was busying herself with extracting ingredients from her refrigerator; her chopping board was hosting a growing collection of onions, mushrooms, and garlic cloves. She wiped her hands on a nearby dishtowel and reached for her own wine glass, taking an oversized gulp before turning to face her friend.
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