by Harley James
Michael’s eyebrows pulled down fractionally, and she felt a flare of triumph at getting his expression to change, even if it was infinitesimal.
She put a hand on her hip. “So you might as well undo this kumbaya thing between him and me. Or at least move me on to my next soul mate. Everyone assumes we have more than one because the Big G seems to place a lot of weight on free will. I mean, if we only had one person we could be happy with for the rest of our lives, well, that sucks.”
Michael remained frustratingly silent. She took a step forward, intending to snap her fingers in his face, but thought better of it.
Unfortunately, staying alive trumped self-expression. “Well? Angels have to be honest, right? Tell me. Please.”
Michael considered her for a moment like he was peeling back her deepest layers.
She tried not to squirm.
Finally: “You assumed correctly. There is no one person who is your only hope, as there is no limit on human happiness or human love.”
“I knew it. This soul mate thing is just some shitty Guardian propaganda.”
“Enough.” Michael’s form glimmered and the floor rumbled beneath her feet. “You disappoint me, Guardian. I shall be sorry should I have to relieve you of your duties.”
She threw up her hands. “I’m bound to fail since I’m not rejuvenating after the exorcisms. I’m doing everything I always have for the last one hundred forty years— meditation, rest, and a good diet—but it’s not working anymore.”
“You have not tried everything because you have never truly opened your heart to possibility with the Viking.” The archangel vanished as quickly as he’d come, unfreezing everyone in his wake.
“Oh really? What do you call making a baby with him?” she yelled at the ceiling as the renewed screams of the Possessed corralled in the Devil’s Trap coincided with the pounding in her frontal lobe.
“An open heart is not a prerequisite for a biological event,” came Michael’s reply.
Katherine cursed. “Always have to have the last word, don’t you?”
“No.”
She rolled her eyes and pressed her palms against her temples. And then Jade was in her face, her big brown eyes concerned. Katherine held up a hand before she could start her Southern, ‘hey-girl-let’s-hug-this-out’ spiel. “It’s a beautiful day to leave me alone, Jade. By calling Ari against my wishes, you’ve inspired my inner serial killer. Truly.”
“Stop being so dramatic,” Jade said. “You need to simmer down and wait to start de-deviling these people until Ari gets here. In the meantime, can you shut them up? Damn, they’re a noisy bunch.”
Katherine would’ve tried silencing the screamers, but since it annoyed Jade, she let them wail on. It would expend too much energy to quiet them anyway. Energy she’d need to mind-wipe the three freaked-out humans who still cowered beneath a table on the raised level beyond the dance floor.
She marshaled her resources then closed her eyes. Her molecules broke apart and refastened a split second later under the table with the humans. She placed her hand on each of their foreheads in turn, erasing their memories of the last several hours. Then she streamed to the bar, weak and nauseous, and watched the three dazed, but now-smiling humans crawl out from beneath the table and look around.
“Aloha awakea! That was some party last night, huh?” Konani hollered over to them. “Next time, no sleeping on the premises. Go home, eat a good breakfast, and drink plenty of fluids, ya hear?”
Maddox ushered the smiling humans to the door. Katherine glanced at Konani, wishing she had the time and energy to take their yearly trip to the Polynesian tattoo artist in Hilo. It had been their November tradition since Katherine took down the sex-trafficking ring that had enslaved fifteen-year-old Konani and her eleven-year-old brother Makoa.
Hard to believe that was ten years ago.
Harder still to believe that her Guardianship hadn’t been revoked when she’d hunted down their pimp and fed him to the pua’a boars in the forest near Mauna Loa.
That had to have been against Guardian rules.
Maybe Michael didn’t know.
Yeah right. The archangel was probably waiting to drop some massive judgment on her when she least expected it. Probably another ‘biological event’ that would rip her heart out. But if and when he did, it would be worth the satisfaction she’d felt exacting justice for Konani and Makoa.
Katherine rubbed her forehead, trying to ignore the rolling of her belly. “Nani, would you mind making me one of your chia energy drinks?”
Her gaze lingered on Konani’s first tattoo—a scrolling wrist cuff that covered up the barcode her pimp had crudely inked to mark her as his property. The cover-up tattoo was a work of art, and for Konani, a symbol of mastery over the trauma of her past.
“Of course, Kat.” The mixologist’s long, dark hair slid across her shoulders with a nod and frown. “Don’t do as many exorcisms as last time, all right? These devils aren’t going anywhere, you know.”
“She shouldn’t be attempting any exorcisms right now,” Jade said, grabbing a cold compress from the bar fridge and turning back to feel Katherine’s forehead. “I’m not kidding, Kat. You think you’re invincible, but you look like death warmed over after those mind wipes. It takes a lot, but Guardians can die, too, you know.”
“I’m well aware of that, thank you.” Too aware, in fact. If Leviathan made a play for the holy relic Katherine protected—the Chains of St. Peter, which had been strangely glowing for the last two weeks—Katherine wasn’t sure she’d be able to stave off the archdemon.
So far, Leviathan hadn’t performed any of the aggressive tricks that Nate Temple’s invading archdemon had pulled at his Minneapolis club, but that wasn’t necessarily fortunate.
The two low-key weeks since Leviathan had showed up in Hawaii were likely the calm before the storm.
“And thank you for your stunning lack of confidence in me, Jade. That always helps.” She shook off Jade’s attempt to apply the cold compress, turning toward the Devil’s Trap. “Look at these cretins. Maddox, get that knave’s mouth off the woman in blue.”
To see their humanity vanish like this never ceased to unsettle her.
Katherine took the energy concoction from Konani, but was only able to drink a few swallows. She set the glass on the nearest table, her stomach churning as she wiped the perspiration from her hands on her ruined pant legs. Was she actually dying, or was it nerves because that damn Viking was on his way?
She’d sent him away multiple times in the three years since her miscarriage. The last time, he’d been furious. He wasn’t angry by nature, but he obviously hadn’t moved past those negative feelings because he hadn’t returned since.
The staff members’ eyes bored holes in her. “Everyone had better carry on with their day before I go on a pink-slip binge. Having to replace all of you at the same time would seriously displease me.”
“You’re always displeased,” Stark muttered from across the dance floor, but with her Guardian hearing, his words registered loud and clear.
“That’s no aloha spirit, boss,” Makoa added.
Sweet Makoa with his unapologetic optimism, poetic eyes, and flawless Hawaiian good looks. How had he remained so hopeful and compassionate despite the horrors he and his sister had survived?
He was the only one she had a hard time bitching at. How irritating.
“The aloha spirit withers when in range of my shrewish shadow, Makoa. Now, out—all of you. I don’t need any of you here for this part.”
Especially if she passed out afterward.
Or worse, if she failed mid-exorcism and the rootless demon attempted to choose one of her team members as its new host. Of course, it wasn’t likely to work because a host needed to be vulnerable for an evil spirit to take hold, but she wasn’t about to risk her people in case they were having an off day.
“Why don’t you at least change clothes first?” Jade suggested. “I’m sure you feel awful in that we
t number.”
Indeed. But her private quarters were twenty stairs away, and even the thought of getting there was exhausting. “Last I checked, I’m the boss. Everyone go get some coffee. When you come back, refill your holy water. Keep your rosaries, crucifixes, and salt close at hand at all times. And watch each other’s back.”
“Text me if you need anything.” Konani’s caring eyes felt like sledgehammers to Katherine’s floundering facade of strength.
“I don’t need anything. Now get out of here.” Hopefully they’d stay away long enough to ensure their safety.
Konani grabbed her purse from behind the golden bar with its glowing nude silhouettes, then ran to catch up with Stark, Maddox, and Makoa as they walked into the bright sunshine on the club’s main terrace.
Katherine’s shoulders sank as she stared at the writhing mass of possessions in the Devil’s Trap—now a half dozen of them—unable to suppress her desperation any longer. She felt more than heard Jade take a step toward her.
“Don’t. Please, Jade. I hate that you think my directives don’t apply to you.” She dared not look back at the only living blood relative she had. Though six generations had lived and died between them, with Katherine’s Guardian agelessness, they looked like contemporaries.
Three years ago when she lost the baby, she and Ari didn’t know how to be a couple anymore. He left, promising to find one of Katherine’s relatives even though she’d asked him not to. He thought it would help her heal.
It hadn’t because even though the same blood ran in their veins, at the time, they were strangers.
Jade sighed. “Well, I hate that you carry this healing burden alone. I hate that you hide how much you care. And I hate that you don’t love me enough to let me in,” she finished quietly.
Katherine’s lips parted momentarily in silent pain, but she summoned a breezy smirk before she turned around. “Now who’s being dramatic? Go take a break, okay? I’ll be fine.”
“Listen. I met a psychologist who specializes in Electra complex.”
Katherine gritted her teeth and willed her breath to slow. “I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.” She turned to walk toward the Devil’s Trap, finally ready to deal with these evil shits.
Jade’s heels clicked rapidly toward her. “Daddy issues are nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not your fault.”
Katherine swung around to face her. “You want to go there after our last smackdown about this?”
“I won’t abandon you, Kat. Not everyone is like that. I’ll prove it to you if it takes my whole life.” Jade’s warm brown eyes were so earnest. So… loving.
A dark corner of Katherine’s soul shivered and pulled the inky blanket tighter around her. How she hated when people ripped off the scabs. You’d think, having lived with Jade in her face for the past few years, she’d have developed scar tissue by now, but the free-spirited, good-hearted woman could shine light into the tiniest of cracks.
One of these times, Katherine was bound to implode.
One of these days, Jade would finally realize that her four-times-removed great-aunt was so grievously flawed she was past redemption.
And then, like Katherine’s parents, her sister…even Ari…
Jade would leave, too.
Chapter 3
An hour later, on wobbly hands and knees, Katherine shook her head and groaned as quietly as possible. Her team had probably returned to the club by now and were hovering in the reception area beyond the second row of tables.
Her stomach pitched wildly again, bringing tears to her eyes.
One more exorcism and the humans they’d quarantined in the Devil’s Trap would be free of invading malevolence.
Just one more.
It sounded so simple. And for the last century, it had been. She spoke the right incantations, drew the malevolent spirit into her body, blasted it with her bad bitch mojo, and voila!
Exorcisms “R” Us.
Not anymore.
The inside of her body felt coated in sludge. Black, oily, and unclean—with slithering worms piling up in her arms, legs, and chest. She’d tried meditation to rise above it, to initiate the natural rejuvenation that all Healer Guardians received, but she’d only fallen asleep. The twenty minutes nap hadn’t helped. Nor had the rest of Nani’s special energy drink.
I’m failing.
The worst F word of all. A word that had haunted her even before that horrific day on the beach.
Curled up and shivering on the hardwood floor, two feet away from the last possessed female, Katherine stared at a wooden table leg without seeing it. Instead she saw seagulls, heard the sounds of the ocean and children laughing. She was eleven, her sister Mary, only nine. She’d loved her new bathing suit, especially how the pretty blue color had deepened as she’d waded into the waves.
“Stop,” Katherine whispered, closing her eyes. “Please.”
The next wave washed away the fever dream, resettling Katherine in her childhood home. Father’s low, angry voice lectured her mother behind closed doors two days before the accident. Just wait, Annabelle, Katherine’s headstrong ways will cause us more grief than Mary’s tireless whining.
How right he’d been.
Katherine rolled onto her back on the nightclub floor, covering her head with her arms, but it didn’t stop how much it hurt that her mother had never defended her.
Tears leaked down the sides of Katherine’s feverish face. This existence was hard. But she wasn’t ready to give up. Wasn’t ready for what came after failing her duty.
For better or worse, this Purgatory was her choice, and she’d make it again and again, though her motives made her a coward. She chose to help humanity not because she wanted to, but because she was honest-to-God, knees-knocking petrified of suffering in Hell for eternity.
“Michael, why won’t you help me?”
“You’re perfectly capable of helping yourself, Guardian, yet you choose not to,” came the echoing reply. “If archangels offer their aid, that is the beginning of the End Times. You know this.”
Yeah, well, screw him and his by-the-book anal-retentiveness.
A blast of air ripped through the room, so cold it made her damp pantsuit freeze to her skin. Her teeth clacked together. She managed to roll to her knees, panting to suppress the dry heaves. Don’t give him the satisfaction.
“I find no joy in your misery, Guardian.”
“Could have fooled me. Just…” Leave me alone. Even her voice inside her head didn’t sound like her anymore.
The Possessed stopped crying and pulling her hair and started laughing and jeering at Katherine. After the worst of the nausea passed, Katherine wiped her mouth and staggered to her feet, looking at the bloodshot eyes of the still-taunting, possessed woman. “Keep that up and you’re going to find your lip gloss replaced with a glue stick, demon.”
Katherine turned toward the reception area as the evil spirit inside the woman erupted in rage. The screaming set Katherine’s teeth on edge, but she forced herself not to cover her ears.
As expected, she found Jade, Stark, Makoa, Maddox, and Konani loitering near the host’s station. They scrambled to make themselves look busy. Katherine plucked an upside-down menu from Konani’s fingers, replacing it right side up before opening the club’s front door.
“I’ll be back in a few hours.” De-demonizing the last one would have to wait. “If you burn the place down, make sure it looks like an accident for insurance purposes.”
“Pretty hard to do that when the place is a fuckin’ wet spa already,” Stark muttered.
Katherine smiled inwardly, pleased with how much his confidence had grown in the two years since she’d exorcised a particularly robust demon from him, then forced him through heroin addiction treatment.
After that, she’d paid for him to finish his seminary schooling online. None of it had been pretty, but they’d both managed to survive.
“I think you bitch more than I do, Stark. Impressive.”
Pleasur
e flashed in his eyes before he turned away to grab a chair for her. “Sit your ass down before you embarrass yourself,” he grumbled.
She knocked the chair over on her way to the door.
“Wait, where are you headed?” Jade called.
Katherine paused with one hand on the door, staring at all five of their serious faces, deciding if she wanted them to know. Telling them would be an admission of her exhaustion. Unfortunately, the need to be accessible to them won out over her damned pride.
“Home.”
In thirty minutes, she was there. Normally, she’d stream home, but that was out of the question in her gutless state. The property was in Kailua, on the windward, lush side of O‘ahu. Her fortress. Five thousand square feet of privacy with both a sugar-sand beach and rocky outcroppings mere steps away from her tricked-out lanai.
She turned off the car and shucked her six hundred-dollar shoes, leaving them on the bench in the front entry. A soak in the hot tub would feel glorious, but she’d probably pass out and drown. She stripped out of her abused pantsuit, dumped it into the trash, and took a cool shower to clear her mind.
It only made her edgier.
Ari was coming.
She refused to look at her reflection in the mirror as she dried off, and then walked circles in her dressing room. She slipped into a breezy cotton shift and tried to make herself sit still.
Ari’s coming.
She could feel his unique energy in the subtle pressure shifts of the salty sea air that was his Guardian element.
Ari.
Fatigue sat like two boulders yoked across her shoulders, but her pulse wouldn’t let her mind relax and seek the rejuvenation that was critical to her existence. She arranged her still-damp hair into the low chignon that Ari had always called her ‘proper librarian bun.’
Damn him for the memories.
She paced in front of the windows. Breathe.