Forbidden

by Lori Adams

  Michael cleaned his slate, his emotions retracting with enormous effort. He wouldn’t take the bait.

  “Stay away from her, Michael,” Raph whispered. “If not for us and our duty, for yourself. Promise.”

  “I promise,” Michael whispered on reflex, and then closed his eyes against the pain wracking his heart.

  Chapter 22

  Dante

  The dead-end alley was long and narrow and shadowed by apartment buildings. A crummy Laundromat with barred windows sat on the left corner, opposite an all-night convenient store. Bawling infants behind grimy windows filled the bulk, and the air reeked of public toilet.

  The Demon Knights were too proud to be lurking in skanky shadows like evil forces in some poorly imagined, low-budget horror flick. In fact, they wouldn’t have been mussing their fine Italian leather jackets and boots if not for Santiago’s strange comment. The kid said he saw Degan the soul seeker lurking around Haven Hurst’s football game and had struck up a conversation. Degan mentioned that, aside from scrounging for freak accident victims, he hoped to catch a glimpse of the human girl who could see into the spirit world.

  Santiago, an underling, hadn’t realized the significance of Degan’s statement. But when he’d repeated it to the Knights, they demanded to know everything Degan had said. Who was the girl? Where did she live? Unfortunately, Santiago hadn’t cared enough to ask. But he did know where Degan planned to be around midnight—the parking lot of the Grab ’N Go convenience store.

  It was ten after, and Wolfgang felt Impatience jonesing for a fight. “How much longer are we going to wait?” he growled, looking around the alley for something to destroy. He extended a hand and concentrated on a rusty can from a garbage heap. The can jerked, wobbled into the air, and he batted it away without touching it. The can crashed into a third-story window and shattered the glass. A woman shrieked in the dark and a light flicked on. A man appeared at the broken window.

  “What the hell?” the man hollered down at the four black figures in the alley.

  “Hey!” Vaughn yelled up. “Go back to bed!”

  “Naw, come on down, I’m bored,” Wolfgang coaxed with a sinister smile. “If you want to know what Hell is all about, come on down.”

  The man pushed a pair of thick glasses onto his pale face and leaned out the window frame. The moon illuminated his face like a searchlight. “You have to pay for the damage!”

  “Of course I do,” Wolfgang called up jovially. “Come down here and I’ll give you everything I have. I promise.” He laughed and cracked his knuckles in anticipation.

  “I’m coming! You stay right there!” The man turned to leave but stopped and stared at Dante. Pale green eyes dilated until they were solid black, as Dante gently released his demon to hypnotize the man.

  “Hey, get out of his head!” Wolfgang chided. “He’s mine!”

  Persuasion’s manipulation was too efficient, and before Wolfgang could intercede, the man shut off the light and returned to bed.

  “We are not looking for trouble, Wolf.” Dante blinked out of the trance, his eyes sizzling back to pale green. He inhaled, sounding tired, and rotated his neck sideways. “Keep your demon under control or—”

  “Or what?” Wolfgang snarled, feeling antsy.

  Screeching tires along the wet pavement interrupted their impending argument. The demons and Santiago emerged from the alley to find a beater Honda Civic parked sideways on the curb outside the convenience store. The driver stayed inside while two guys climbed out, skinny teenagers weighed down by oversized jeans and jackets and guns. One wore a ski mask and the other a baseball cap and mirrored shades.

  The guy with glasses turned and looked at them. “Beat it, man!” he warned. “This ain’t none a ya biznus!”

  The teens threw nervous looks around and then strutted into the store.

  “What do you think?” Vaughn asked, and Dante considered.

  “Let’s go in spirit form. It’ll pass the time until Degan shows up.” Each demon took a deep breath and started up the sidewalk. They faded by degrees until they were invisible to the human eye. Then they exhaled carbon dioxide from their lungs and blinked oxygen out of their eyes. The transition back to spirit form was flawless, as all traces of human elements were purged from their bodies. They adjusted their eyesight and continued to walk in a smooth rhythm that defied movement.

  Dante led them into the store, stopped on the dirty white linoleum, and immediately heard a resounding boom behind him. Santiago had missed the doorway and smashed into the glass wall. He was stumbling backward and holding his head.

  “Has he made the transition before?” Dante asked.

  “Apparently not.” Vaughn laughed.

  “Well, why didn’t somebody tell him what to do?” Dante sighed, frustrated.

  Santiago was walking sideways and blindly reaching out at nothing. He was babbling and sounding like he’d sucked helium. He bumped into the ice bin and swung haphazardly like he was being attacked. He would be disoriented until his system was clean.

  “He looks like an idiot,” Dante said. “Take care of him, Vaughn. And keep him out of my way.”

  His attention back on the store, Dante surveyed the interior: rows of typical fried munchies in a bag, chocolates entombed in plastic, cavities on a stick. A slushy machine was rotating neon blue and red ice. There were no customers at this hour so the guy in the ski mask walked the aisles, stuffing various sundry items into his coat pockets. The guy in the baseball cap and sunglasses stood at the counter with a gun aimed at the clerk.

  The man behind the counter was Jamael Kingston, a twenty-two-year-old college student from Biloxi on a partial scholarship to Yale. He had cropped black hair and dark-rimmed glasses. His hands were raised and trembling against the gunman.

  “C’mon, man, you don’t wanna do this,” Jamael said.

  The guy in the cap punched his gun in the air. “I said open the safe!”

  “It’s midnight, man. They don’t keep anything in there.”

  “Open it or I’m gonna unload! I swear!”

  Jamael pushed aside a Doritos display and revealed a small gray safe embedded in the wall. The digital readout said LOCKED. Jamael was nervous and punched the wrong numbers on the keypad. He had to start over. I can’t believe this is happening! I thought I was out of this shit! Climbed out of the projects and still have to deal with this shit!

  Wolfgang lounged on the counter next to the baseball cap guy and called Dante over. “Come here and watch this.”

  Wolfgang’s eyes sizzled as his demon stirred. He concentrated on the guy in the cap. “Hey, you look like a fool in that hat. Take it off.” He paused and repeated, “You really, really want to take off that hat.” The guy fidgeted, dragging a sleeve under his nose. He hesitated and then whipped off the cap and dropped it. Wolfgang raised his arms like, “Tah dah!” and flashed a triumphant grin. “Hat to floor in less than five seconds!”

  Dante blinked, unimpressed.

  Not letting himself be discouraged, Wolfgang leaned in toward the guy’s ear. “You really want to take off those sunglasses.” Within seconds the glasses were removed.

  The ski mask guy in the back of the store hollered, “Dude, whutcha doing? They got cameras and shit!” Overhead, a surveillance camera was aimed at the counter, a red light flashing. The guy up front scrambled after the baseball cap and glasses.

  “Aw, shit! I don’t know what the hell I’m doin’!”

  Wolfgang threw back his head, laughing. Dante was mildly amused and wondered if Santiago had sent them on a wild moron chase.

  “Let’s go,” Dante mumbled, but Wolfgang’s demon had shifted the compulsion to Jamael. The clerk turned from the safe and felt for the 9mm hidden under the counter. He knew it wasn’t worth the risk but he had an urge to go for it. He wanted to show these punks that he wouldn’t take their shit. I can do it! It’s right there! I can grab it and blow them away!

  By now, baseball cap guy was yelling and waving the
gun. He pistol-whipped Jamael in the head, and pain exploded across Jamael’s scalp. Warm blood oozed from the cut and he grabbed his head, doubling over in agony. Jamael looked over at the gun resting on a stack of napkins.

  Three blue bursts of light flashed outside the store as Michael, Raph, and Gabe appeared in spirit form twenty feet above the parking lot. With arms fanned out, the sharp fetching along their forearms eased their landing and then retracted. Michael’s glittering eyes swept the area. Vaughn and Santiago were standing near the ice machine by the open door. Inside were Dante, Wolfgang, and three humans.

  “Well, well.” Vaughn chuckled. “If it isn’t Larry, Moe, and Squirrely.” Santiago snickered. The guardians ignored them both, and filed into the store.

  Dante didn’t get the reference and lounged against the counter, posturing his amusement at the interruption. He and Wolfgang watched dispassionately as the guardians assessed the human souls like detectives working a case.

  “Aren’t you boys a little too far south of Heaven?” Dante sneered.

  Michael split his attention between the demons and the clerk. Jamael was struggling behind the counter, dizzy and angry. Pain radiated from his head and he wanted to go for the weapon but was afraid to make any sudden moves. Trembling, he returned to work on the safe.

  “You know you’re wasting your time here, Dante,” Michael said tightly. “If you need a fix like some low-life soul junkie, there’s a couple of rats in the garbage you could snatch.” His smile was emotionless against Dante’s smirk.

  Outside, a warm gust of wind carried the faint scent of sulfur. “Hey, Degan!” Santiago called, having completed the transition back to spirit form.

  The soul seeker was striding across the parking lot in his familiar grungy clothes. The sulfur aroma did not belong to him but to his companion, Teriza, a veteran reaper of five centuries. Teriza was nearly six feet tall in three-inch black suede Jimmy Choo boots. She sauntered up wearing a black leather Dolce & Gabbana miniskirt and a red Brazilian bikini top. A leather strap crossed her chest and supported a quiver slung against her back. A black belt with a diamond-studded buckle that read GRIM rode low on her round hips. She carried a pair of matching daggers, one strapped to each thigh. A long black whip was coiled against her right hip, and black iron manacles clamped her wrists. Each hand bore the mark of her Master burned into her flesh.

  All in all, Teriza considered herself a simple girl who absolutely adored a good fight against greedy soul seekers or the occasional spirit walker who challenged her for souls. Degan was more like a kid brother who tagged along to watch her snatch souls. It was often theatrical and highly entertaining.

  Teriza tossed her long black hair over her shoulder and slid into Vaughn’s arms. They hugged hello, but she was already distracted; a sapphire aura emanating from inside the store had stirred her dark energy. Michael Patronus had come. She was pleasantly surprised and strolled inside with mischief in each step.

  “My goodness, there hasn’t been a spiritual gathering like this since Babylon.” She giggled and batted her solid black eyes. “For moi?”

  “Hello, Teriza,” Michael said with mild annoyance. He took in her provocative attire. “If you’re out clubbing tonight, I’d suggest the city. Not much going on here.”

  “Oh, now, Michael, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get rid of me. And I just got here.” She faked a pout. “I’m sure Dante doesn’t mind if I hang around. Do you, Persuasion?” She was playful poison, and Dante laughed at her flirting.

  “Teriza, I think you will do whatever the hell suits you. As always.”

  Her bloodred-lipsticked mouth curved into a smile. She draped an arm around Dante and rested her head against his shoulder, purring, “It’s so nice to see you back on the surface. It’s been such a long time. And we have so much business to conduct, don’t we?” Her eyes slid to Michael’s, catching his glare.

  When a reaper said she had business to conduct and angels disagreed, it usually meant trouble. Michael reassessed the scene. Both teens were loading goods into their pockets while Jamael fumbled with the safe.

  Teriza sauntered around Michael, trailing a sharp fingernail across his chest. “You remember last time, Michael? When you stole that drowning kid’s soul from me? I swore next time I’d take you for a walk on the dark side.” She brought her glossy red lips close to his scowling face. “Aren’t you the least bit curious to see how wonderfully bad it can be? Hmm?” She reached up to stroke his face but Michael batted her hand away. She laughed and turned on her innocent act. “But isn’t that why you’re here?” When Michael refused to answer, she shifted to the demons.

  As one who took pride in her independence, Teriza hardly required demonic help to do her job. She looked them over suspiciously.

  “Well then, how ’bout you boys tell me what you’re doing here.”

  “We gotta see a man about a dog,” Wolfgang said, and she laughed.

  “Yeah, Degan told me about this human chick who can see into the spirit world. But I said somebody was yankin’ his leash.”

  This unexpected revelation caught Michael off guard and his aura flushed with renewed energy. His eyes locked with Dante’s.

  The demon inside Dante stirred, emitting a fresh wave of cinnamon into the air. With angels in such close proximity, Persuasion was chomping at the bit. It would like nothing better than to pick a fight, especially with this one. But Dante steeled himself against the urge. He was here to get answers, and the time had almost come.

  Santiago, Degan, and Vaughn crowded into the store, adding to the semicircle around the guardians. Ski mask guy from the back yelled for his partner to make the clerk open the safe. He ran up the aisle, cussing, knocking crap off the shelves, and passing through the guardians unnoticed. He hit the register, and both guys stuffed cash into their pockets. They yelled at Jamael to hurry up. Jamael punched in the code for a fourth time but the safe wouldn’t open.

  “It’s locked me out!” he snapped against their berating. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it!”

  “Try again!” Baseball cap guy choked out. He worried about the camera—that damned blinking red eye glaring down like a droid from Star Wars. He wanted to shoot it but didn’t want to trigger any alarms.

  Jamael canceled the entry and tried again, touching the keypad deliberately. Grab the gun! Shoot them before they shoot you!

  Michael stiffened and glared at Wolfgang. “Get out of his head.”

  “Sorry, no can do.”

  “Gabe, take care of this,” Michael ordered.

  Gabe went to Jamael and blocked Impatiens’s line of vision. This weakened the compulsion but didn’t kill it entirely, so Gabe laid a hand on Jamael’s shoulder, passing a calm sensation into him. He didn’t affect Jamael’s free will, but just relaxed his adrenaline rush and slowed his breathing. This would allow Jamael to make a sensible decision.

  “Degan,” Dante said evenly, “tell me about this girl who can see you in spirit form.”

  Degan twitched with agitation. The energy in the store had tightened like an electric wire. Facing Demon Knights was nerve-wracking for any soul seeker, but a mixed audience of guardians had him visibly shaking.

  “Well, she, um, she could see me. I mean, I’ve seen her twice and I’m sure she could see me. She looked right at me and all, so …” He shrugged and pulled at the frayed edge of his grungy shirt.

  Dante looked at Michael’s brothers in anticipation. If Dante was correct in his assumption, things were about to get very awkward for Michael.

  “You know that’s impossible,” Raph snarled at the soul seeker. “No human can see into—” He stopped short, remembering what Michael had said about Sophia. She had seen him in spirit form at an accident. Was there another girl who could see entities from Hell in spirit form? Or had Sophia seen both Michael and Degan?

  “You should go now,” Michael warned Degan.

  “But … you know I got Soul Patrol. I’m just doing my job.�
��

  “Go away,” Michael repeated, and Degan slouched, turning to leave.

  Dante lifted a hand, and an invisible force stopped Degan as if he had hit a brick wall. He stumbled back and recoiled in fear. It was hard to say which was worse, an angel ordering him to leave or a demon making him stay. All in all, it was better to be back at the cemetery with Teriza, sitting on headstones and chucking empty wine bottles at stupid humans trying to raise the dead.

  “Tell me, Degan,” Dante ordered. “Do you know this girl’s name? The one who can see soul seekers?”

  The tension between Dante and Michael was palpable, and Degan’s eyes flicked back and forth between them. “She, um. No, I don’t know her name. Ask Michael, he was there.”

  A ripple of energy passed through the guardians, and Raph and Gabe turned and stared at Michael. Dante smiled magnanimously.

  Michael hadn’t told his brothers that Sophia could see into both spirit realms!

  “Well, well. Somebody is keeping secrets from his brother guardians.” Dante clicked his tongue reproachfully. “Bad form, Michael. What would the Halos think? Oh, but wait, you have yet to become a Halo. Still a servant under the sign of the Arc, forced to protect unworthy humans. How disappointing for you.”

  “I’d rather bear the mark of the Archangels and be a servant to humans than wear the brand of the dead and be a slave to your Master, Dante. I pity you.”

  Dante’s face flushed with hatred and Persuasion sizzled his eyes with pent-up rage. His nostrils flared and he spoke tightly through a clenched jaw, “I am a Knight of the Royal Court! Do. Not. Pity—”

  A blast of gunfire exploded Dante’s last word. Baseball cap guy had lost his patience and shot out the camera. Glass and plastic rained down, and Jamael instinctively threw an arm over his head. Then the teen panicked and punched Jamael in the kidneys, and the young clerk went down.

  Wolfgang clapped and roared with laughter.