by Lori Aisling
“I’m not. From what I learned in Hell, combined with what you just told me, it’s obvious this treason is entrenched deeply and is very well planned. The Light and Dark both have a leak and the leaders of this uprising are working together much better than we are. Lucifer was as clueless to his condemned souls wandering freely around the mortal worlds as you were surprised to find God missing. When I was poisoned, the toxin reacted immediately. It was mere moments before I was incapacitated, and it was only after two very small sips of the coffee that was dosed. I fear a higher concentration would have taken me out sooner. I feel strongly this is what has happened to Callon and The Lord. The only reason I was able to escape was simple dumb luck. Jer’s imposter told me they placed scouts at all of Callon’s properties, and my home realm. Going there would have been sure death. Choosing to go to Hell saved my life, as ironic as that sounds. Obviously, Lucifer is not involved.”
“He may not be involved, but please tell me you aren’t going to trust him, Amara. He will trick you, surely you know that,” Az reminded me gently.
“I’m sure he would, given the chance, and no, I don’t entirely trust him. I don’t trust any of you, either. Don’t take it personally; it’s my new motto. Everything I have told Jeremiel has turned around to bite me. From the condemned soul in Morocco, to the imposter at my office. The only connection is God’s Angel of Hope and Mercy. Who did you tell, Jer?”
“After leaving your home that night, I returned here to meet with The Lord, as I told you I would. He was predisposed, so I returned to my quarters. I saw no one that night. I spent the evening reading and writing in my journal. When I spoke with God the next day, it was only the two of us and I’m positive he kept my confidence.”
“Wait. Back up a sec, you said you wrote in your journal. Is this a diary-like journal?” I asked, the pieces starting to fall into place.
“Yes, but I don’t share my writings.”
“Who has access to your quarters?”
Metatron cradled his head in his hands and let out a loud groan as Jeremiel’s eye grew wide. “No. She wouldn’t! Those are my private thoughts!”
“Give me one shot at guessing who our mysterious ‘she’. Is her head currently held hostage in the marble wall downstairs?”
“You can’t think the Lord’s Angel of Beauty could possibly be involved in such a dastardly deed! Jophiel is a lot of things, and she can be tenacious, but she is not a traitor,” Michael shouted, his hands clenching the table’s edge while his chiseled features highlighted his clenched jaw. He was being defensive; overly so.
I rolled my eyes before capturing his gaze. “You too, Michael? Are you serious? Is there a single archangel she isn’t fucking?” I’m not trying to tell you boys what to do, but have you ever considered a mortal realm for your ‘extracurricular’ activities? Honestly, this is getting ponderous. Your blessed, blonde Goddess is playing you all like puppets. If you can look me in the eyes and tell me there aren’t entirely too many coincidences concerning her, you’re lying to yourselves and we are finished here. Since Callon vanished, all I have done is react. From one threat to another, I have been reactive, not proactive. That ended when I woke up in Satan’s bed. Do you have any idea how fucking disturbing that is? Lucifer has worked with me, helped me, and is currently doing something about this absolute mess. I’m sitting here trying to explain to three teenage football players the head cheerleader really is the manipulative bimbo everyone knows she is. I’m not saying she’s the key to all of this, but she knows something. I guarantee it. Jer, did you tell her you were meeting me in Seattle?”
“No. I told absolutely no one I was meeting you. I didn’t even know for sure where you were. You mentioned going to Morocco, but we did not schedule an actual meeting.”
“He could have been followed,” Az mused. “That would make sense. If someone knew about his conversation with you at your home and the plan to visit again, choosing to tail him into the mortal realm would have been an easy way to find you. All of us know of your business in Seattle. Whoever it was would have known immediately where to meet you the moment Jer went there. And for the record, I’m not fucking her.”
“Jophiel needs to be questioned, and it should be done by peers who don’t have an intimate knowledge of her private parts. I’m happy to do it, but it won’t turn out well for her. The Light needs to start digging out the traitors walking these halls. Lucifer is dealing with The Dark, and he is aware his higher-ranking demons are likely part of the scheme. Once we have a few suspects from both factions, we can begin to put together some possible scenarios on where we can find Callon and the Lord. There is a concerning issue here in the Light you will need to reveal: how do you know who you can trust in this realm? Between the cherubim and the seraphim, you have a lot of pissed off underlings who would love to see you fall. In order to best Callon and the Lord, there are more powerful beings involved than just some demons and a few crazy cupids. I’ll say it since none of you want to admit it: Archangels. One or more has a hand in this.”
The four brothers stared at the shiny, copper table, their distress obvious. “We have never dealt with anything like this before. Yes, there is distention in our ranks, but all members of The Light have always been true to our cause. They would never risk the wrath of God. Or Michael, for that matter,” Jeremiel defended.
“That’s your first problem. Assuming those around you have the same thought process you do, Jer. I learned the hard way, trust me. Your idea of the perfect design will not be the same as others’. That’s for the four of you to figure out. As for me, I am going to start scouring the mortal realms for the condemned souls looking for me. I’m hoping one of them will have more information on Callon, and I will be extremely ‘persuasive’ in gleaning them for information. Additionally, they need to be removed, by any means necessary.”
“By ‘any means necessary’,” Metatron repeated. “Are you saying what I think you are?”
“Yes, they will be destroyed, if need be. Luc and I spoke about it, and he agreed- it was actually his idea. I have no doubt he will contain the treason which has erupted in Hell, but he is not taking lightly to Callon’s disappearance, either. Like you, he is dedicated to his realm and the design the Beginning created, and is willing to suffer whatever losses required to correct these wrongs.”
“I’m surprised he would agree to that. It will remove a lot of Hell’s constant power. The condemned souls are a reliable source of it since they notoriously continue to be dark and evil, regardless of their sentence. Lucifer gave you permission to permanently eradicate a large well of his strength. Are you sure Jeremiel isn’t the only one who has a doppelganger?” Metatron asked. “I mean, that just doesn’t sound like Luc.”
“You need to be willing to make the same sacrifice, ‘Tron,” I replied. “You know as well as I do the only being in creation who can actually change their appearance at will is a seraph. Not even archangels can do that. Not demons, or cherubim, either. It’s a gift only that group possesses. My assaulter was one of yours. And if I’m right, then some of your own teamed up with The Dark to take Callon and God.”
As the brothers contemplated my statement, I felt a familiar pull. Looking across the room, I saw my cloak hanging off its pewter peg next to the great hall. Three golden cloaks hung next to it. “Duty calls. As long as I’ve been gone, this one is going to be a doozy. Are you three coming with me?”
Michael rose, extending his hand to me, only to jerk it back when Lucinda growled. “Thank you for coming to us, Amara. We have been wrong to judge you so harshly and ostracize you the way we have. Together, we will fix this.” He sighed, running his hand through his blonde hair before continuing, “I will deal with Jophiel. I’m not blind to what she has done, and she does need to answer for it. I’m going to start an investigation here in an attempt to dig out this poison that has penetrated our lives. I will be keeping Sandaphalon and Gabriel at my side; I feel they can be trusted, but I will question them first. We wil
l find the Lord and replace him back at his rightful place on the throne.”
“Callon, too,” I added. “I will not give up on him. I know everyone is calling me the Widow, but until I see his corpse with my own eyes, I will not believe he is gone.”
“I pray you are right. He was created for the mantle, and his power in the wrong hands could mean the end for us all,” the mighty archangel murmured as he strode from the room and disappeared down the long hall.
Looking back at the other three, I stood and walked towards my cloak, Lucinda at my side. “Let’s get to it, guys. This is going to take some time, and I want to get back to finding my mate.”
Shoot to Kill
Our first reaping was at a hospital. Walking up to the bed, I watched the elderly woman take her last breath. As I approached, I noticed the hospital staff were attending to the other patient in the room, and I stopped short. That patient was deceased and there was no soul in limbo. When a mortal passes, if Death is not in attendance, the soul waits in a stasis-like state to be transferred. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. Never, in all the time I assisted Callon, or performed the duties myself, were souls missing. “Are you guys seeing what I am?” I asked the guides.
“Where is the soul, Amara?” Az questioned, his tone harried.
“I don’t know. I haven’t been here, obviously.”
“You are the only one able to collect the soul for transference,” Metatron said, stating the obvious.
“No, no, no!” I cried as I ripped off Death’s cape, dropping it to the floor next to Lue. The jacket was next and I ripped at the tiny hooks on the corset, cursing, as my anxiety rose.
“Amara, hun. What’s the matter? What are you doing?” Jeremiel queried, concern lacing his voice.
I ignored him, focusing on getting my top removed. Turning my back to them before I exposed myself, I took a deep breath, trying to calm my frazzled nerves. “Is it there! Can you still see it?” I yelled, running my hands up and down my back, trying to feel with my fingers any sign of my bonding mark.
“Oh, honey,” Jer said, as his fingers lightly touched my spine. “It’s really faded. It’s hard to make out any details.”
“But it’s still there, right?” I choked, trying to swallow the sobs threatening to break free.
“It’s still there. Don’t give up hope,” Metatron said, and for the first time since I met him, I heard genuine emotion in his voice.
Leaving the corset and jacket on the floor, I grabbed my cape, using the broach to hold it closed between my breasts. One of the archangels was obviously covering me with his sway, as I ceased to even contemplate the mortals walking around us in the room. Lucinda nudged my hand and I fell to my knees, pulling her faces to mine and absorbing the comfort she offered. I could feel her concern through my bond and I clung to the loyalty and unconditional love she offered. With my chin on one of her heads, I spoke the truth which was now unavoidable. “He’s being siphoned. His power is being used to reap. He isn’t dead, I swear he’s not, but he is dying,” I choked out. “I don’t know where the souls are being taken since they have no guides, and no connection to the design. They should be held in limbo, or their own private purgatory, but only Callon and I can sentence or save souls. It’s something I have never done, and I only saw him do it a few times, and only with the Timeless who tried to take me before I was trained. The design was not for Death to be a jury, the integrity of the soul speaks for itself. If those who took him have figured out how to control his power, they could very well be sentencing the souls to their cause, whatever that may be. I don’t know what else to say.”
“We need to salvage as many of them as we possibly can, in that case,” Azrael replied. “Come on, Death. We need you. It’s time to fight back.”
He was right. The souls were innocent. For the mutiny to involve the future of mortal existence was beyond incomprehensible. I approached the old woman and gently pulled her soul to me, transferring the kind being to the archangels.
From then on, our duties were a blur. We moved as rapidly as possible, saving as many innocents as we could, and my heart broke at the number of vacant vessels staring back at me with unliving eyes.
It wasn’t only the missing souls- The condemned were making an absolute mess of everything. Not only was there the average number of natural deaths and accidents throughout the mortal realm, there was also a rise in crime with violent killings skyrocketing. The police were at a loss as to the reasons behind the sudden increase, and the perpetrators were nowhere to be found. Terrorist factions were rising up overnight, eager to take credit for mass murders and slaughters across the globe.
As the four of us powered through well over a million reapings, we calculated about a quarter of the deaths held no souls left to cross over. I saw a tear slip down Jeremiel’s cheek as I transferred the life-force of a young girl caught in the crossfire of a gang shooting. It wasn’t the child’s death that bothered him- she would be given a new cycle with a clean slate. It was the two teenage boys laying across the street from her, their broken bodies riddled with bullet holes whose souls were not given the chance to live again in the design the Beginning intended.
“We need to get back to Heaven. Michael will have found clues by now,” Metatron said. “In all the eons, I never thought I would say this, but Lucifer was right. The condemned need to be removed, and quickly. Who could possibly be doing this and why? How could risking mortality be beneficial? The souls are our purpose!”
I didn’t have a chance to answer him when I heard Lucinda growl, her viper rising to her full height and focusing on something at the end of the dark, cluttered alley across from us. “Go. Get to The Light- Hopefully, Michael will have put together an army you can trust.”
“You’re staying? This is new territory, Death. We have no idea if you can be overrun. We can’t afford to lose you, too. The afterlife will be over should you fall,” Az stated, as he held the child’s placated soul next to him.
“I will not fall, there is too much at stake. I have Lue, and I’m done running. My mate is dying, and fleeing this confrontation will not save him, or return him to his rightful place. Go.” Not waiting for a reply, I walked into the mouth of the alley, my hound from hell at my side.
The putrid stench of rotten garbage, feces, and decomposition penetrated my senses as I stepped over piles of rubbish and the dismembered bodies of the homeless who accepted this dark, dilapidated passage to hide from the rest of society. There were no souls awaiting their next cycle, all of them were stolen from mortality for a sinister purpose I had yet to unravel.
Seeing movement in front of me, Lucinda’s deep rumble elevated into a full-on snarl, her teeth bared, while my viper swayed, her eyes zoned in on her target. “It’s time,” I whispered. “Kill them.”
The words barely left my lips when the hound leaped straight into the condemned mob moving towards us. I threw a second assailant into the aged concrete wall next to me, and wasting no time, I obliterated its soul. Black, tar-like ooze ran into the network of cracks, soon resembling a bleak and eerie graffiti. Remnants floated in the air like ash, increasing in quantity as Lue exterminated her prey.
I wanted to hold onto a few of them, take them somewhere I could question them, rip them apart piece by piece until I had information about Callon, or follow one of them when they fled. These deadly puppets could kill, and would gladly continue to do so, but they couldn’t reap souls. A higher-ranking Timeless was holding the power and siphoning it from my soulmate, but finding the answer wasn’t going to happen now. Dozens of condemned crowded the exit to the alley, and turning around, I saw just as many coming up behind me. I called upon Death’s weapon, my scythe. It was so rare Callon ever used it, and this was my first time. It was only needed when truly evil souls fought the reap. We would then be forced to separate the soul from the vessel. With its razor-sharp, curved head and long handle, it was going to serve its purpose well today.
As the malignant, jerky figures move
d towards me, I let my sway soak the air around us. The mortals were going to have a hard enough time dealing with the mass murders and violence- They didn’t need this battle showing up on social media or the evening news to further complicate their reality.
When my foes were close enough to strike, I swung the ancient weapon, my scream of fury shattering the silence and reverberating off the shoddy buildings around us. Lucinda’s roar was equally as angry as she jumped into the mass of sinister beings, the viper striking with inhuman speed, her deadly toxin infusing each victim with the serum of final death. The two mouths of formidable teeth were equally as terminal as they ripped through the sour, decayed flesh of the condemned.
Feeling the crescent blade slice through multiple targets as I spun, advanced and retreated, battling a seemingly unending number of evil souls who continued to pour into both ends of the filthy alley, I focused on the true source of my strength, feeling the increased vigor flow through me. I thought about my love: Sparking, silver eyes alive with emotion and support. Strong hands capable of bringing my body to immeasurable pleasure, holding me gently to him, or ripping apart the lifeforce of a being intent on injuring me. His devoted heart, capable of unconditional love for me and unending dedication to all living souls.
The power Callon mirrored in me was indeed mighty, but the true source of my strength was the man himself. My man. And every one of these putrid husks surrounding me and Lucinda played a part in his fall. My adrenaline spiked and I pulled more angst and fury from its bottomless pit into my fight. There were so many of them; for every ten Lue and I dispatched, another fifteen took their place.
They began chanting, almost as if they were being controlled telepathically with some sort of ‘hive mind’. “Kill Death. Kill Death. Kill Death,” they repeated over and over until they fell at my feet.