Marked, Soul Guardians Book 1

by Kim Richardson

Kara felt a sudden pull. She was sucked into the portal as if it were a vacuum.

  Everywhere she looked was pitch black. She felt her body being pulled, or was she falling? She couldn’t tell. The strange thing was—she wasn’t frightened anymore. She let herself be pulled into the abyss. A speck of light and then, suddenly, her surroundings exploded in light. Brilliant stars of crimson red and blue light rotated around her, like a giant brilliant funnel. Her legs went out from under her. Light exploded from everywhere and her body started to spin horizontally. She gazed at her arms and hands. Tiny golden particles drifted up from her body, hovered for a moment, then stuck themselves back together. It was like looking at a motion-blur version of herself.

  And then it stopped.

  Kara felt a strain on her body. With a sudden heave she fell onto a hard surface. Her vision was blurred. Lights popped inside her lids when she closed her eyes. She blinked several times. The images before her soon became focused. Fluff tickled her nose. Her face was squished into a blush red carpet. She staggered up and looked around. Blood red velvet drapes dressed the walls, like the ones Kara had seen at the local movie theatre. A large disco ball spun around slowly, sending hundreds of tiny lights against the red velvet drapes, like tiny shiny diamonds. Music—she recognized it as seductive lounge music, or old R & B music. The air was a mixture of cigar and mildew smells, like an old dusty pub. She realized that she was in a big elevator.

  And something was there with her.

  Kara jumped back and stared open mouthed.

  The largest cockroach Kara had ever seen lounged in a lush red chair by the control panel. He was about three feet tall. His black shell glistened under the flickering lights from the disco ball. He wore a black top hat, a long red tailcoat and a red bow tie. He looked like a ringmaster from a circus, except that he was a bug. In one of his arms was a black wooden cane. He followed her every movement with large black eyes.

  Kara stared in disbelief. “What the hell?” She caught herself before she laughed.

  “’ell?” said the cockroach. “A non, mademoiselle,” he corrected her, in a heavy French accent. He jumped down from his chair and landed on his two back legs. He then spun around once, his coat spilled around him. He swung his cane at her. He reached out with a front leg and grabbed his hat off his head. “Zis … is ze Nezerworld.”

  “Don’t you mean the Netherworld?” Kara looked up at the mirrored disco ball. She started to feel dizzy and looked away.

  “Zat’s what I said.”

  “No … you said Nezerworld.”

  “Oui! Excatement! Ze Nezerworld.” He threw his four front legs in the air.

  Kara snorted and suppressed another laugh. “Whatever you say, Mr. Cockroach.”

  His antennae stiffened and shot straight up. “A non, non, non! My name is Jean-Pierre!” He bowed. “Iz nice to meet ‘u, mademoiselle … what iz ’ur name?” He straightened up and secured his top hat back on his flat shiny head.

  “Kara.”

  “Kara,” repeated Jean-Pierre. “A pretty name for zuch a pretty gurl!” His antennae twitched and formed the shape of a heart. Kara made a face. What the hell?

  Suddenly, the giant cockroach leapt into the air and landed on the wall inches from Kara. He stuck to the wall as though he was made of Velcro. With his head resting on two forearms, his body lay stretched out, as though lying on a lounge chair. He blinked his eyes and adjusted his red bowtie. Kara could see her startled reflection in his large black eyes. She edged away slowly. She didn’t want to insult the large bug. Who knew what he was capable of?

  “Are ’u lonely, ma chéri?” Jean-Pierre twirled his left antennae with his middle arm. “I am ze great loveur, you know. I know what ze woman wants.” He hit the wall with his cane and the light dimmed and the music changed to something with saxophones.

  Kara rolled her eyes. “But—but you’re a bug? I’m not an insect! I’m a girl … an angel with demon—never mind. I’m different, that’s all. And I’m certainly not like you.” Kara thought she saw a smile coming from under his mandibles. It freaked her out.

  Jean-Pierre continued to twirl his antennae and batted his eyes. “I like ze différent, ma chéri! I like very much.” His antennae reached out and caressed Kara’s cheek. She backed away.

  “You smell différent. You do not smell like ze demons ’ere. Your smell iz more like ze woman! You ’ave a little … je ne sais quoi, about you?”

  “Uh … thanks, I’m sure.” Kara slipped away from the cockroach and stepped towards the control panel.

  The panel was made of dark brass with two black buttons. One with the word UP and the other with the word DOWN. There were no labels beside the buttons.

  “So where does this elevator go? There are only two buttons here—does this mean the Netherworld is only one level? Like on Earth?” Kara pressed her index finger on the brass plate. It was cool to the touch.

  In a flash, Jean-Pierre sprang to her side. He tipped his hat seductively.

  “Why do you want to know, mon amour,” he purred.

  Kara shook her head. “Because I need to stop Asmodeus. He needs to pay for what he did to my mother—to the Legion. I need to stop him.” Kara wasn’t entirely sure why she trusted this bug with all this information. Clearly, he could do some damage.

  Jean-Pierre brushed his cane over Kara’s leg. “Stay wiz me, Kara. I love you! ‘Ere iz noting out ‘ere for you. Stay wiz me and be mon amour.” He leaned towards Kara. She jumped aside.

  “Listen, JP. I’m very flattered, but I have a job to do. I must go. Don’t make me hurt you.” She lowered her bag on the floor. She wasn’t entirely sure what she would do next.

  “’Urt me! ’urt me please! I want you to ’urt me!” The cockroach leapt into the air and landed right beside Kara again.

  Kara rolled her eyes. “Good God.” Frustrated, she crossed her arms. “JP. I need to get off this elevator—I’ll either do it myself, or you can help me—I can’t stay here.”

  Jean-Pierre clasped the left side of his chest with four of his arms at once. “You do not love me! I will die of ze broken ’art.”

  Kara glanced at her watch. It read six o’clock. What the—? She’d lost three hours already. She had to get off this elevator.

  “I need to get off now!” She raised her voice. “Let me go.”

  “Bon, bon, bon.” Jean-Pierre pushed off and fluttered over to his red chair. “I will let you go, but wiz one condition.”

  Kara grabbed her backpack and flung it over her shoulder. “What’s the condition?”

  “A kiss.”

  “You can’t be serious!”

  “I am very serious.” Jean-Pierre combed his antennae with his front leg. “You give me a kiss, and I will let you go. No kiss—no go!”

  This can’t be happening. Kara screwed up her face. It couldn’t be that bad, right? Her first kiss had been David, and now—a giant cockroach.

  “I am ready, mon amour.” Jean-Pierre leaned against the wall, his four front legs tucked behind his head.

  “You’ll pay for this,” mumbled Kara. She walked up to the cockroach. Leaned in, made a face, closed her eyes and kissed the bug where she thought was his mouth.

  She jumped back, wiping her mouth. “Gross! Gross! Gross!”

  “Ahhh . . . what za kiss!” Jean-Pierre twirled on the spot, fell off his chair and landed with a soft thud on the shag carpet. He was still.

  The elevator doors slid open with a screech. A gust of wind hit her face, and Kara smelled decay and rotten flesh.

  “Au revoir, mon amour!”

  Kara hesitated for a moment, and then drew her soul blade, and with one last glance at the cockroach, she closed her eyes until they were tiny slits, readied herself and stepped into the Netherworld.

  Chapter 18

  Netherworld