by Lori Aisling
“I can do that. Can you get me access to Callon’s cell phone information? I need phone numbers and call logs.”
“I’ll have them to you within the hour. As you will read in the documents in that folder, he makes it clear anything and everything is to be made available to you. He has no secrets from you and that speaks volumes considering we are talking about the most elusive and secretive man on the planet.”
“Let’s hope nothing is restricted, Kyle. I need everything I can get my hands on. Thank you for your loyalty. It does not go unnoticed.”
“I know that. Hence the reason I’m willing to go to any means necessary to fix whatever the hell is going on here. I heard you when you said you couldn’t tell me everything. But I can read between the lines. We’ll get him back, Amara.”
I didn’t answer, choosing instead to slide the large folder across my desk and lower my head, appearing to scan the initial page. I didn’t want him to see the tears I was struggling to corral. I prayed the man was right. But pray to who? I didn’t even have an answer to that seemingly simple question.
The remainder of the afternoon was spent juggling publishing contracts, returning calls, and scouring through the files the head of security produced. Once Kyle emailed them to me, I downloaded all of Callon’s cell information, along with scans of all the documents onto a thumb drive I tucked into the front pocket of my jeans. I placed a call to the man in charge of managing Callon’s private house in Morocco and told him to expect my arrival.
I needed to get back home, complete the ledger, and then deal with Jer. Once that was accomplished, I planned on spending some time in the mortal realm. Cell phones didn’t work in Callon’s world, and I had every intention of being ready when I received a call from Kyle.
One of the voicemails I accessed was from Nina. ‘Good day, Mr. Thead, it’s Nina. Just giving you a call to let you know that I have the special order you requested for Amara. It was an odd request, given your description, but I have it. Give me a call and let me know when you would like to pick it up. I hope you are well. Bye.’
My love was constantly showering me with gifts. Some of them were exotic, rare, or exclusive. Some were simple and filled with thoughtfulness steeped in his adoration. There was a possibility that this was another one of his treats to spoil me, but I would assume nothing at this point. I placed a call to Nina and told her I would be picking up the package myself and would be at her store within the quarter hour, hopping over to Beverly Hills before going home would take mere moments.
I texted Lynn as I logged off my computer, locked the doors and set the alarms. I informed her she would be on paid time-off until further notice. She responded requesting that she work from home. I agreed and told her I would have Kyle deliver a laptop to her with the necessary programming to log into the House’s network.
Watching the security system start its countdown, there was 5 seconds before the cameras were live. I walked into the abyss and onto the streets of Beverly Hills.
Ducking into Nina’s boutique, I was well aware of how incredibly underdressed I was for this section of society. After I showered this morning, the jeans and hoodie seemed appropriate and combined with a messy bun, I fit in with most average Seattleites. This, however, was not the caffeine-addicted, casual scene of the Pacific Northwest. I caught a couple of disdainful stares as I walked into the posh, yet stark setting room of Callon’s personal shopper.
The chic proprietor approached me, her hands outstretched. “Amara, darling! You look...tired,” the impeccably dressed woman said, her brows drawn in concern. “Are you well?”
“I am tired, Nina. Too many hours behind a computer screen, is all,” I lied.
“I have told Callon for years that he works too hard. It appears he found a mate with a similar trait. You’ll get old before your time, honey. You need a spa day.”
I didn’t know if I was going to burst out in laughter, or break down into tears. I couldn’t handle this, I was at my breaking point. “I will take that into consideration. I’m actually planning a trip, so I should be able to rest then.”
“Let me grab your package. Do you need me to acquire anything else for you? Something sweet and sexy for your trip, perhaps?”
I felt the ball of emotion lodging in my throat and my teeth threatened to crack under the strain of my clenched jaw. My heart shrank that much more at the thought of spending my days and nights without him by my side. Hold it together, Amara.
“Not now, Nina. I still haven’t been able to enjoy many of the exquisite pieces you have provided for us over the last few years. But I know who to call when I need something extraordinary. Callon raved, I mean raves, about your exquisite taste. You have an amazing gift.”
Producing a small paper bag secured with a gold sticker, the classy woman shook her head, her bobbed grey hair dancing merrily around her jawline. “This is an odd one. I am sure it will mean something to you, an inside joke is my bet. You’ll have to let me know. He was adamant that it be this exact brand.” Her fingers slid down my arm and she took my hand. “Please be well, Amara. Callon loves you so deeply. I have known the man for eons, and he has finally found happiness. Take care of yourself. He needs you more than you know.”
Tears flooded my eyes and I dipped my head to hide them from my astute friend. “Thank you, Nina. I love him so much it hurts,” I whispered.
“I know you do, dear. It’s written all over your face. Go, now. Go to him and you two enjoy your trip.”
I mumbled my thanks and scurried from the store, bumping into a high-society princess in stiletto heels who squealed in indignation at my intrusion of her personal space. “Watch where you’re going, slummer!” the gaudy gal chastised, while I apologized and scanned the area, hoping to find an alley or vacant storefront to disappear into.
The woman continued to berate and belittle me, determined I must not understand what garbage I was. Fuck this, I have had it. Meeting her haughty stare, I smirked as I felt the intent of my sway flood the area around us. She wouldn’t remember a fucking thing, and neither would anyone close enough to see us. The bitterness I was trying so hard to keep bottled up popped its top and it flooded my body, anesthetizing my pain.
“Slummer? Listen up, Botox Barbie. You’re going to say the wrong thing to the right person one of these days, and they are going to fucking own you. Do you get it? Ripping the receipt off the bag I just picked up, I shoved the receipt in her face. What does this say, bitch? Whose order is this?”
“Wh--why--I don’t--” the girl stammered, confused by my sway, yet appalled I had the audacity to confront her, the distaste she felt obvious on her face as she glowered.
“Read it, bitch. Read it out loud.”
Looking at the paper in my hand, her inch long fake eyelashes fluttered as she processed the information in front of her. “Order for Mr. Callon Thead. Gift for his girlfriend, Amara,” she read. Recognition of his name caused her painted-on brows to shoot towards her hairline. “Oh, God. You’re Callon Thead’s girlfriend? Holy shit, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know. I would have never-”
“No, you would not have. But not because you’re a decent person. But because of what that name means to you. You’re pathetic. Walk away, but remember this. You aren’t any more special than any other person in this world. You will respect others and refrain from being a first-class cunt. Remember,” I stressed as I lessened my sway.
The parts-n-pieces puppet swayed on her designer heels and verified my command in a monotone, robotic tone. “I’m not better than others and I won’t be a cunt anymore.”
“Good girl. Bye, bye,” I sing-songed as I stepped from the posh fakeness of Beverly Hills and into a much more honest state of existence- Death’s realm.
Friends Or Foe
I scolded myself as I entered our home. I seriously should not have done that. We weren’t supposed to alter perception or personalities of mortals, only make ourselves easily forgotten. But this shallow bitch pushed me too far. I wasn
’t playing with a full deck right now, and dammit, I was so tired of all the selfish and egotistical personalities invading the pores of reality, regardless of realm. It was a sickness, really. Plus, messing with me in this state was not a good idea. I was finding myself craving the rage; it numbed the sorrow, and I liked the feeling of that.
I started a pot of coffee and decided perhaps I needed to purchase one of those machines that used the pods. I never desired one before; I wanted a full pot, not one cup. But I dumped more of Seattle’s finest down the drain lately than drank. I also realized I hadn’t eaten since Callon and I enjoyed a midnight snack the night before he-- I shook my head and forced myself to not think of it. I wasn’t ready.
I filled a cup and entered Callon’s office, steeling myself against the flood of emotions as every goddamn thing reminded me of him. With shallow breaths, willing myself to go on, I sat down in his chair and pulled the massive ledger in front of me. Opening the drawer, I retrieved the quill pen and inkwell, choking on a sob as I recalled my amusement at Death using a ‘dead head’ for an ink receptacle.
My hand moved down the thick binding and I opened the book. On instinct, or by design, it opened to the exact page it was supposed to. I dipped the quill and began at the top of the page, just as I watched Callon do hundreds of times. The pen slid across the parchment like silk, my cursive writing taking on a branded look as the page absorbed my script. I set the feathered quill to the side and leaned back in the chair when I felt a gentle pull in my mind. Through sleepy eyes, I watched the page begin to fill with all the names, times and cause of death. The tug of the ledger against my memories was not unpleasant; in fact, it was soothing and peaceful. I could sense the ‘rightness’ in my duties and I felt a sense of pride; I was carrying on Callon’s greatest gift to all mortals.
I would continue to do so, in the same respectful and empathetic manner that he had done. Nothing would change. Except for the torturous slaughter of every bastard who had anything to do with his demise. That was a wee change from his passive ‘norm’. I felt no remorse; they asked for it. I felt a small smile tip my lips as I let my mind feast on the many forms of crippling punishments I planned for my foes.
When the ledger was complete, I left the office, refilled my coffee and stared at the bag I picked up from Nina. Jeremiel would be here at any time, and I didn’t want to be a blubbering mess when he arrived, but I simply couldn’t wait. I popped the golden seal and unrolled the perfectly folded bag. It was a glass bottle. Pulling it free, I read the label. ‘The Magnificent Seed Extra Virgin Rapeseed Oil’.
Callon and I both liked to cook and we experimented with many infused oils, balsamic vinegars, herbs and spices in our quest to impress each other with our culinary skills. This wasn’t something we ever talked about and I couldn’t figure out what could be so special about this particular oil. ‘Callon was adamant about the brand,’ Nina mentioned.
Maybe that was the clue. ‘The Magnificent Seed’. I rolled it around in my brain, staring at the simple, white label, willing it to talk to me, tell me its secrets. I knew that rapeseed oil was known as canola oil in the United States and only referred to rapeseed when used industrially. However, in European countries, the term canola oil was used rarely, if at all.
I couldn’t figure out anything special about the oil, or the brand name. Nina purchased it from a small farm in the UK. I might have to make a quick stop there and tour the farm since I planned on spending a large amount of time outside of Death’s realm in anticipation of capturing a Timeless at one of our properties. Perhaps seeing the operation with my own eyes would lend some credence to Callon’s determination that the oil be specifically that brand.
Hearing a knock on the door, I set the bottle on the counter and walked across the foyer to greet Jeremiel. To my surprise, there were three immaculate and overdressed archangels, not only the one I requested.
“Did I not tell you to come alone?”
“They insisted, Amara. They want to help.”
“I don’t trust them, Jer. Not in the slightest. I will not speak with you in their presence. If you can’t adhere to a request as simple as ‘come alone’, then I think we are done here. We’ll call it an early night for all of us.”
Jophiel huffed, her cheeks heating as anger flashed in her eyes. “How dare you! I was here for you! You’re such a catty bitch!”
The bitterness that was slowly consuming me slithered through my veins as I stared at the Lord’s Angel of Beauty. I tried so hard to maintain peace and tolerance with the messengers from Heaven and Hell, not giving in to their taunts. Now, I no longer need to placate them. In fact, it was time they started showing me some goddamn respect.
“How long has it been since someone explained to you how incredibly full of shit you are? I’m not sure I have the time tonight, but at a later date, I would be glad to,” I deadpanned.
“When I heard about Callon, I was inconsolable! This is a tragic error that must be corrected! You were not designed for his role, Amara, and we need to figure this out. This is your fault! There were none of these issues until you came,” she hissed.
“There she is! The egotistical, narcissist, pit-viper with a closet drinking problem that we all know and love. Shove it up your ass, Joe. You made it clear the last time you were here that the only involvement you wanted was to be the little narc, scurrying around like a filthy rat, tattling on others, yet refusing to stand toe-to-toe in the line of fire. You are self-serving and inconsiderate. I’d say that I only trust you as far as I can throw you, but at this stage in the game, I could give you one helluva toss. Get the fuck out of my realm.”
“Whoa, whoa, darlin’,” Metatron crooned. “You are emotional and grieving. We understand that, and we want to be here for you. I don’t know what happened between you and Jophiel the last time she visited, but rest assured, Amara, we care deeply! We only want to help.”
“Call me ‘darlin’’ again and I’ll feed you your teeth, one by one, while she watches. Got it? Callon didn’t even trust you, Metatron, and he was entirely too soft on all of you. He was dead-on when he called you a prick. Although-” I let my eyes slowly wander down to his crotch, then meander back up to meet his gaze and a smirk crept across his lips. “Prick was quite generous of a term from what I’m seeing.”
His smile faded as his jaw clenched, and acid dripped from his tone. “Damn it. We have to know where the power is. We need it! His strength alone is enough to tip the scales! We have to prepare for either victory or defeat. This changes everything and you will fucking work with us on this or-”
“Shut the fuck up, Metatron!” Jeremiel yelled. “Just quit your incessant yapping. That’s all you do, do you realize that? You never shut the hell up long enough to learn anything of merit.”
“It’s because he already knows it all. Cocky bastard. But I do want to know what ‘or’ means, Metatron? Wow me with your threats, tell me what you think you can do to me. But tread carefully, I’m not the same person I was yesterday.”
I paused, trying hard to reign in my temper that was spiraling skyward. I could feel my immense power begin to leak, saturating the air and blending with my anger. The concoction was deadly, addictive, and I wanted to embrace it. I forced myself to calm down, my fingernails biting into my palms. “I think I have made my point more than clear. If you have questions about my stance, my plan, or what will happen to your precious kingdom once I have the answers I seek, then ask Sandy, Azrael, or Jer. I made it crystal clear earlier today.”
“Do you realize that making enemies of the archangels will only burden you? Do you think you can beat us all?” Joe asked, the threat clear.
“It’s no burden, and actually, yes. I do. Especially if I take two of them out right now in my own fucking front yard. Wanna take me for a spin, Jophiel? I have nothing to lose, now. The one thing I loved is gone. The shell left standing before you is not something you want to tangle with. Mark my words. If I discover you were involved in any way to take him
from me, your future won’t include mimosas, wine, and playing these fools like fiddles against each other.”
“What are you talking about?! Your nerve! This is what you do- I’ve told them all. You are trying to turn us against each other, just like you turned Callon against me.”
“Are you calling me a liar? You aren’t screwing them both and using them for what they can offer you? Lie to me, Joe. Lie in front of them right now and tell me you aren’t fucking both of them. You can’t. Because then they would know, for sure, what a conniving, power-mongering piece of crap you really are. For fuck’s sake, have some pride. I can smell one of them on you right now. Do you not bathe before you entertain the next one? As for your accusation, I didn’t turn Callon against you. You did that all on your own.”
I watched Jeremiel cast a hurt look at Joe as Metatron stared nervously at his feet. Poor bastards. I was being cruel, airing this irrelevant garbage; unnecessarily so, but I didn’t care. On the contrary, it felt exhilarating. When I wasn’t angry, everything hurt so damn bad. The blinding rage taking up permanent residence under my skin slithered along the facia, leaving kisses that promised retribution and numbing everything else.
“That is enough, dammit!” Jeremiel cried out. “You two, leave. We aren’t accomplishing anything with this bickering! I promised Amara I would help her in any way I can, and I will not go back on my word. I won’t pretend to understand the motives you two have for coming here tonight, but I swear to our Lord, if you don’t leave now, I will not stand in her way should she choose to forcibly remove you.”
“You’re defending her?” Jophiel snarled. “She threatens us and you state that you will do nothing? Perhaps my judgment of your character has been misguided.”