by Michele Vail
Aunt Lelia smiled, genuine warmth crinkling her eyes. “Not if I see you first.”
Then she sank into the floor, a puddle of ink that joined the shadows.
Sadness crawled through me, along with exhaustion. This had been the longest night of my freaking life. I wanted to go home—my actual real home, and just get a hug and some food, and be with the people I loved.
“Hey, babe.” I turned and saw Yuri leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. “Hi, I’m Yuri,” he said in a bad Russian accent.
I stared at the corpse of Yuri, but here’s the thing: I could see the blue outline of the ghost who’d wedged himself inside. Gross. “Get out, Rennie. You’re not supposed to be in there.”
“No way,” he said. “You know how hard it was to get inside this bloated thing?”
“He’s not alive. You’re walking around in a dead body.”
“I just haven’t figured out how to work all the parts yet,” said Rennie. “It’s like being inside a meat puppet.”
“Yuck!” I marched over to Yuri and grabbed him by the face. “Get out. Seriously.”
Rennie-Yuri shuffled and tripped toward me, as though he’d forgotten how to walk (maybe he had). He spun on a slick black heel and went down. When Yuri hit the floor, Rennie popped free.
“Dammit.” Rennie looked at Yuri with some regret, and then glanced at me. “You all right?”
“Yeah.”
“Police!”
I shrieked and raised my hands, my heart tripping over in my chest. Slowly I turned around. Two cops were pointing guns at us. Well, me. They probably couldn’t see Rennie.
Rennie’s ghostly hand clasped my shoulder and offered me cold comfort.
“What happened?” The cop asking the question had a gun trained on me. The other officer circled around the room and knelt to put his fingers against Yuri’s carotid artery.
“My name is Molly Bartolucci,” I said slowly. I kept my gaze on the police officer. “And tonight, this man had me kidnapped off the Vegas Strip.”
The cop eyed me, his gun trained at my chest. “All right, Molly. Just one question. Did you kill him?”
Chapter 23
“It is said that the gods have fathered many children among human females. Anubis was quite fond of his priestesses, and some believe that the first reapers were born of these unions.”
~The Secret History of Reapers, Author Unknown
Handcuffs weren’t particularly comfortable. As I was hauled across the parking lot, I saw Rennie on the sidelines, his gaze on mine as the cop marched me toward a police car.
Unexpectedly, he unlocked the cuffs and led me to the passenger side of the car. I got in, feeling numb. My face still hurt from where Rick had hit me earlier in the evening.
“You kinda killed Yuri,” said the cop.
As I looked at him, the blond, blue-eyed muscle-head morphed into the dark-eyed, dark-haired form of Anubis.
I opened my mouth to justify why snapping Yuri’s soul string wasn’t exactly murder, but what came out was, “Where the hell have you been?”
He lifted one eyebrow. “Set’s influence is getting stronger, and Yuri was very high in his ranks. My uncle won’t be happy that you not only released the souls he needs to free himself, but that you also facilitated Yuri’s death.”
“Um, you know all that?”
He pointed to himself. “I’m a god.”
“But you couldn’t break me out of Set’s magic?”
“It’s not as easy you’d think.” His gaze searched mine. “Did you not see the path I laid out for you?”
“No,” I said, feeling teary-eyed and exhausted. “I’m just a kid.”
“Not anymore,” he said kindly. “I see the changes wrought by your gifts. At least you had the ring.”
“You gave it to me?”
“Yes. It’s special, Molly. Like you.” He gave me a long look. “I expected you to have had more training by now.”
“I have! Rath taught me some moves, and so did Irina!”
“Irina?” Anubis laughed. “Is that what she called herself this time?” He shook his head. “You have something she gave you. I can sense it.”
I pulled the diamond out of my pocket. “She said I could rely only on myself.”
Anubis took the diamond and studied it, then handed it back. “Yes. That’s definitely something she would say.”
I was silent for a moment. “She’s not Yuri’s sister?”
“Maybe in form,” said Anubis.
I remembered all the gunshots that had woken me. “Is she...dead?”
“Oh, there’s no doubt Irina is dead—she’d have to be for her form to be taken by Anput.”
“Who’s she?”
He was silent for a long moment, and then he offered, “I think she’s still trying to figure that out.”
“Why didn’t you tell me there are other Chosen? And that more than one of us thinks we’re your champion?”
“It’s complicated. You are my champion,” said Anubis. “And you will need the other Chosen when it comes time. I know it feels too heavy a burden, but you were prophesied long ago.” He took my hands. “What you will offer the world matters very much, Molly. I know what you must do seems challenging, but you’re strong. You can handle all that will come your way.”
“Sounds like a total bummer.”
“It is, yes.” He glanced over my shoulder. “A friend of yours?”
I followed his gaze to Rennie, who stood at the edge of the parking lot, looking morose and lonely.
“Yeah,” I said. “He’s my friend.”
The next thing I knew, Rennie was sitting in the backseat, his narrow face filled with shock. “Dude. You did not tell me you had such badass connections.”
“Just remember that,” I said, “the next time you think about pissing me off.”
Anubis laughed. Then he grasped my hand. “It’s time to go home, Molly. To see your family.” He smiled. “Just for a little while.”
He meant Al, of course. The reality of going home to the family that used to be mine was here... Well, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
“He’s not my dad.”
“Yes, he is. He did not sire you, but he claimed you. You should honor that.”
“Why did he lie to me? Why did everyone lie?”
“To protect you,” said Anubis. “Until it was time to tell you the truth.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “Go home, Molly. See your family.”
Home.
I could hardly let myself believe it.
And then, in the blink of Anubis’s eye, we had pulled up to my house on Grimsby Avenue.
Anubis returned to his cop form and pulled into my driveway. For the longest moment, all I could do was drink in the house I’d lived in my whole life. It was as if I’d been watching a movie for too long, and upon leaving the theater, I viewed the rest of the world as small and unreal.
“I called ahead,” said Anubis. “They’re expecting us.”
We got out of the car, and Rennie followed behind me, staying quiet.
“Molly!” Ally bolted from the doorway first and wrapped her thin arms around my neck. She squeezed me so hard my trachea nearly collapsed.
But I hugged her back. I was so glad to see her. To know she was okay.
I overheard the low voices of Anubis the Cop and my dad. Then Nonna was there, chattering at me in Italian, alternating between hugs and shaking my shoulders. She wagged her finger at me, tears falling down her weathered cheeks, and then roped me in for another hug.
Then my dad was there, and he stood in front of me, awkward, his gaze haunted. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Molly,” he said. “The school called and said you got separated on some kind of field trip tonight. I didn’t even know you were in Vegas.”
I wasn’t sure I had forgiven him. But I did know that I loved him. And I didn’t want him to hurt anymore. I stepped into his arms and he squeezed me hard. His sigh of happiness drifted right through me.
I held on to him, so happy to be home, to be part of my family again. He finally pulled back, his gaze so filled with relief, so shadowed with pain, I felt my own heart squeeze. “Oh, Daddy. I’m sorry. I got really, really lost.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. You don’t have to go back to Nekyia,” said Dad. “You can stay here. We’ll figure something out. I don’t want to lose you, Mol.”
“You won’t, Daddy,” I said. I glanced over his shoulder, and caught the blue-eyed gaze of the god in disguise. “I want to go to Nekyia.”
“Okay,” said Dad, though I could see he was less than thrilled with my decision. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
Sometimes, you choose your destiny, sometimes it chooses you, and sometimes...it’s a little of both.
Chapter 24
“O, Anubis! Mighty Anubis!
As you take his measure,
And weigh his heart as he stands before you,
Know that he was loved by many,
And will be remembered by all.”
~from Prayer to Anubis
Only Henry knew the fate of Rick. I had worried about my ghoul and my boyfriend all night, although my exhaustion helped me sleep a little. By the time I arrived at Nekyia on Saturday morning, it was nearly 10:00 a.m. and I’d already promised to meet my friends at noon in my room so we could break down my wild Friday evening. I wouldn’t tell them everything—I couldn’t. One thing I knew for sure was that the Nekros Society did important, secret work. And I wanted to be part of it. At least until Anubis needed me to fulfill the prophecy.
No pressure there.
But now all I could think about was Rick. Rick who had been sick, and stealing people’s essences.
I had done that terrible thing to him.
My heart felt heavy as I trudged to my room. The minute I shut the door behind me, I said, “Henry.”
He appeared instantly, looking as sharply dressed and old as dirt as usual.
“Where’s Rick?”
“I will show you, Miss Briarstock.”
I didn’t correct him. I was a Bartolucci and a Briarstock, after all.
I followed Henry, heartsick. Surely I could save Rick. Just one more time. Find a way to put his soul back together. I was a reaper. I could do it.
By the time we hit staircases, rounded curves, went through hallways, I was completely lost.
“Here we are, miss.”
Henry gestured toward the ornate wooden door.
“What am I walking into?” I asked Henry, feeling suddenly nervous.
Henry inclined his head. “Whatever it may be, miss, I am confident you will prevail.”
He executed a half bow, then he spun and opened the door for me.
The room was small and lit only by a fire crackling in a huge hearth. It was so big, three people could walk inside it and stand there without being crowded.
Rath stood before the hearth.
“Hello, Molly.”
I gasped and stepped toward him. “What happened to you? Where did Clarissa...?” At the look on his face, my words trailed away. He nodded toward a table, and I turned and saw Rick lying there, utterly still.
“What did you do?” I cried. I touched Rick’s forehead. It was cold. But I could see the shallow rise and fall of his chest. “He’s not well.”
“No,” said Rath. “He hasn’t been since the night of your party.”
Rath nodded toward Henry. “Stand guard.”
Henry’s gaze met mine. “I obey only her,” he said. “She is the Briarstock in residence.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” I said. “I don’t want him left alone.”
“As you wish,” said Henry. He took position near the door and faced it, a sentinel that would protect us from any intruders.
Ghouls took their orders way serious.
I grabbed Rath’s elbow and dragged him over to the hearth. It was then I noticed the flames were black and the fire emitted no heat at all.
“What’s going on?” I demanded.
“I know what happened now. I figured it out. Rick’s soul separated into the five parts, and you lost a couple of ’em. He’s a thrall, because you didn’t let him die.”
“Thrall?” I swallowed the knot in my throat.
“Not human, not zombie...your servant. No reaper can do what you do, Molly.”
“Not human.” I felt the hot ache of tears and turned toward the fire while I gathered my emotions into a little ball and tucked ’em away. Ruthless, I told myself. Be freaking ruthless.
“Reapers used to have thralls a long time ago. It was what the Egyptians made after zombies... It turned out badly, which is why no one does it anymore.” His voice softened. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose, but Rick isn’t really Rick anymore. He’s not going to get better. Not with his soul shredded.”
“Well, what can I do?” I asked. I looked over my shoulder. “How am I supposed to fix him?”
For a moment, Rath said nothing, and the silence between us stretched thin. “You have to go to Maat for his soul.”
“Maat. The Maat?” I asked, my voice shaking. “The judge in the weighing of the heart?”
“Yes. They’re not just stories,” said Rath. “Humans didn’t get everything right—how could they? But there is an afterlife, Molly. And there are gods. And there is judgment.”
“I get it.”
I knew all about the weighing of the heart ceremony. It was part of the History of Necromancy course that was a required high school credit for graduation. Every soul was taken before Maat and weighed against that of a feather. If the heart—or the soul, rather—was heavier than the feather, the crocodile goddess ancient Egyptians called “the gobbler” ate it and it was all goodbye afterlife.
“I can get you past the gates,” said Rath. “But then you’re on your own. You have to walk Rick’s path. Take his journey. That’s the only way to get to Maat.”
“Shouldn’t he go with me?”
Rath hesitated. Then he turned toward me. “You have to take his soul with you, Molly.” He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Today Rick must die.”
“But you said I had to go to Maat for his soul.”
“This isn’t a rescue mission.” Sympathy flashed across his chocolate-brown eyes. “You’re escorting Rick’s soul to Maat so that he can move on to his afterlife.”
Rath let go of me and stepped away. I guess he figured I needed to process what was unfolding. Or maybe he didn’t care. Or maybe he thought I would punch him.
All three were viable theories.
I stared into the odd fire and tried to wrap my brain around what Rath was telling me to do. Was he still pissed off that I’d accidentally messed up his reap?
He was arrogant, and sometimes a jerk, but making me take the soul to Maat if it wasn’t necessary for me to do it seemed an extreme move even for him. I figured I had to escort Rick’s soul because I was the reason it had gotten all split up.
“Everyone dies, Molly,” said Rath. “You serve a purpose within the realm of death. All reapers do. Yes, everyone dies.” He paused and stared at me. “Even you.”
And just because Rick was a hot, high school football star who’d given me my first kiss didn’t mean he’d received some kind of get-out-of-death card.
What would’ve happened if I’d just let him die when he supposed to?
Would I be here now? Maybe if I hadn’t messed around with my powers, I wouldn’t have gotten into all the trouble.
Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
That was the thing about life. There really were no do-overs. And there were always more questions than answers.
I had broken Rick. And now I needed to fix him—even if that meant taking back the gift of life I’d given him.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go.”
Rath rejoined me and sidled a glance at me. “I know it’s difficult—”
“Save it,” I interrupted. “I don’t need a pep talk.”
/> Rath looked as though I’d slapped him. I know I sounded tough, but the truth was that I was scared. He wanted me to walk into the Underworld, get to Maat and somehow find a way to fit Rick’s soul into one piece.
And, oh yeah, get him all approved for the Light.
“We do this now?” I asked. “What about school?”
“I’ll write you a note.”
I wanted to ask where Anubis was—why he wasn’t tasking me with this because, hey, he’s the one who spent so much time giving me the “life is difficult and so’s death” speeches.
“Molly?” The gentleness in his voice threatened to unravel my control.
“Where do I put his soul?” I asked. No way was I going to stick it in a pocket.
“Here.” He lifted his palm and I watched a glass orb appear.
“What is that?”
“A gift from Anubis to help transport the soul. It’s not a reaper gift, if you were wondering.”
I took it from him and then crossed the room purposefully.
Rick was still unconscious. He was breathing only because I’d stuffed three-fifths of his soul back into his body. He’d been living on borrowed time, and it sucked, really sucked, that I had to take him.
But it was the right thing to do.
I’d known for a while now. Honestly, somewhere deep inside I’d suspected things might end like this.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I put my hand on his chest, and I felt the wiggling of his soul parts, the confusion, the feeling that something was missing. The soul knew that it was incomplete, and that it was sitting in a body it no longer belonged to. I had, as Rath had put it, superglued it back in there, however unintentionally.
It would listen only to me.
I was a reaper. I was the Underworld’s champion. I was the girlfriend who would never be.
“C’mon,” I said to the imperfect soul. “Let’s finish your journey.”
It sounds strange, but I felt its sigh of relief. Its happiness that it would no longer be imprisoned within the corporal form. How could Rick be Rick without his soul intact? How could I have justified what I’d done?
The soul, its vibrant blue color faded and its parts mashed together as though a toddler had twisted it into a weird shape, popped free.