The Soul Game

by McQueen, K. T.

  Ginger appeared in a pure white bathing suit and, leaving a towel on a sun lounger and very little to the imagination, dived into the clear blue waters of the pool. She was a pleasure to watch in this form. But neither of them would ever try sleeping with her again, they’d learned the hard way what kind of Demon she was. There was no need for that many tentacles to enter that many locations. But still, watching her swim…

  ‘Did you give the book to the girl?’ T.G. Master asked dragging his attention away from Ginger.

  ‘Kelly, the suicide girl? Yeah, it’s done.’ Stan said. ‘You could have had someone else do it.’

  ‘I could, but you’re the most persuasive man I know, and we really need those souls.’ T.G. Master grinned.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: BLACK

  Kelly could see all the way down into the ravine, the rocks at the bottom looked very solid, but that was the point. She had no intention of coming back. She was going to take the pills, and when they began to kick in jump. She’d thought ahead. She giggled hysterically thinking ‘but not too far ahead.’

  Everything had gone wrong and the humiliation had been the final straw. She couldn’t face anyone ever again. They said it was a joke, she hadn’t even found it slightly amusing. Now she had blokes approaching her asking lewd questions, others grinning and pointing, women sneering at her like she was trash. And she felt like trash, that was the worst part, she hadn’t done a thing to deserve it and she still felt like trash.

  She’d lost her job, and without a job she’d been forced to move into a tiny trailer on the outskirts of town. With no family who would help, she’d concluded no one would notice if she wasn’t here anymore. It never occurred to her to move away, to somewhere no one knew her.

  She was almost blown from the bridge too soon by a large truck and was so busy clinging on she didn’t notice the black car pull over and the man in the suit get out.

  ‘Hi, I realise you probably don’t want to talk to anyone right now but if you’re planning on jumping I don’t think it’s a good idea.’ His long camel coat flapped in the wind.

  Kelly stood staring.

  ‘I think I can help you,’ he continued with a smile

  Oh, great, he was going to tell her about how God wouldn’t want her to. She slipped a hand into her pocket for the pills, perhaps if she took them now by the time he finished speaking they would have kicked in.

  ‘Just listen for a minute, I promise no religious crap, it’s how I got this suit and that car.’ He gestured to a very nice looking sports car.

  ‘Clearly you’re new in town, otherwise you’d know you couldn’t possibly help me,’ she said.

  ‘Up until a few weeks ago I looked like any of the town’s bar flies.’ He smiled. ‘I know who you are and if I give you this book you can change everything; you can get your own back on those who did this to you. And I promise you’ll receive something in return.’ He was holding a book; it didn’t look religious.

  ‘A book?’ Kelly asked.

  ‘If it doesn’t work you can climb back on this bridge. It’ll only take ten days more than you’ve already lived.’ He held out his hand and distracted, she allowed him to guide her to safety.

  ‘I’ll give you a ride home if you like,’ he offered. She wondered why she was being so compliant. ‘And if you don’t want to read the book you can come back out here tomorrow,’ he suggested as he got in and started the ignition.

  Kelly smiled and hunkered down in the leather seat, she didn’t think riding in a rich bloke’s car would do anything to help her in the eyes of the town’s folk, even if he did use to be a bar fly.

  When they reached her trailer, he handed over the book.

  ‘Give it a chance okay?’ he smiled.

  ‘Sure, a chance, thanks.’ She smiled back feeling rather weirded out, how was a book meant to change anything?

  Kelly closed the caravan door and watched as he turned and drove back out onto the road. She didn’t think she would see him again but who knew? The caravan was cold. She hadn’t planned on coming back so she hadn’t bothered to gather wood for the log burner. Wrapping herself in all the covers off her bed she lay down to read. If it was dreadful she might get lucky and freeze to death before she finished.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: MAËL

  Mike smiled as he said his goodbyes on the platform. Joy didn’t want to let him go. They hugged one last time and he got on, the guardsman closing the door. The company had paid for first class. And as the train pulled out of the station he sat back, looking forward to reading his book, and perhaps a little nap. So, engrossed in the book he barely even heard the ticket man and had to apologise as he handed over his ticket. He took a brief trip to the buffet car for coffee a sandwich and then settled back down to read.

  As they pulled into the next station he realised the seat opposite him was also pre-booked and he slid the little book back into his bag.

  ‘Hi, I’m Greg. Ginger told me I’d be sitting with you. Apparently, you’re one of the best salesmen they’ve ever had. Said I might be able to learn a thing or two from you, my sales are so low I’m thinking about quitting and looking for something else. But Ginger keeps talking me into staying.’ Greg held out his hand as he sat. Shook, then pulled away to adjust his belongings. ‘I don’t know why they want to keep me on but they don’t seem to want to let me go.’

  ‘Hi,’ Mike said.

  ‘Sorry, I’m a bundle of nerves. I know we’re meant to learn heaps, but I always feel out of place at these things. We used to have them with my previous company and I always turned into a complete wreck. Gabbled about nonsense and never seemed able to make friends or connections. It was the main reason I left. And now here I am, going to a conference and having to talk to people.’ He paused and looked up embarrassed. ‘I talk a lot when I’m nervous.’

  ‘I’ve never been to anything like this before. Maybe I can prevent you from babbling and you can keep me on track?’ Mike suggested.

  ‘Brilliant idea,’ Greg said and pulled out a packed lunch.

  They spent the rest of the trip talking sales. Greg was a partial Demon, not even a half Demon. Mike was beginning to realise a lot of people who worked for the company had at least a little Demon in them. He figured full Demons might see Greg as inferior so he would have difficulty in the demon bookstores. And he was a bit of a clutz, and chatterbox, so the humans weren’t being given an opening to make a purchase. By the end of the journey, Greg was feeling more positive about going out and getting sales.

  When Greg showed Mike how to book in for the conference Mike couldn’t deny Greg’s usefulness. And with Mike to instruct, Greg seemed to calm down and make fewer mistakes.

  ‘Have you noticed how they all seem to be glancing at you?’ Greg half whispered. ‘It’s like they know who you are. Hey, you’re not like some big wig are you, that I’ve been showing how to do stuff you already know? Is this some kind of test?’

  ‘No, I don’t know why they are paying me so much attention. I’m nothing special.’ He was shaking his head and looking around. ‘If you see Ginger let me know, I want to have a word with her. I have no interest in being singled out. I just want to do my job and get paid.’

  ‘Sure.’

  Hours later they sat side by side near the back of the hall. T.G. Master was on the raised stage at the front, and Mike was none the wiser about who he was. He wasn’t even sure he was getting any life changing messages.

  He rubbed his face tiredly.

  ‘Why is this on so late?’ he whispered to Greg.

  ‘So we can take advantage of the hotel’s facilities through the day,’ Greg whispered back. He was engrossed.

  Mike was not. What was he missing? The guy was a natural leader, he had presence and passion, but something felt off. Like this was the preshow, or a set up for something he was going to pitch later. Mike kept trying to figure out what was hitting a wrong nerve with him. But then they broke for supper.

  ‘Why supper do you suppose?’ Greg a
sked.

  ‘I guess because it’s quite late, practically nine already.’ Mike shrugged, he’d grabbed a sandwich earlier and wasn’t starving.

  They followed the rest of the company into the adjoining room, a buffet table had been set up. Everyone was expected to get their own food. But there were cheers when they were told it was a free bar.

  Mike and Greg grabbed plates and began collecting little pies, salads, onions, sandwiches, and questionable looking quiches. Then the pair found a small table off to one side, close to the open windows, letting the cool night breeze in.

  ‘Hi.’ A red headed girl took the seat Greg had vacated to go get them drinks. ‘How are you enjoying it so far?’

  ‘It’s a new experience,’ Mike hedged.

  ‘I’m Ginger by the way.’ She gave a little giggle and leaned in to offer her hand. He caught the faint fragrance of her perfume and was surprised to realise she was wearing her name. A sort of tropical ginger beer was the overall impression.

  ‘I guess you know who I am,’ Mike said taking the proffered hand.

  ‘Of course, I’ve been dying to meet you. Ever since I heard you would be working for the company, and I would be your liaison.’ She was grinning like she’d just met her favourite boy band member.

  ‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand,’ Mike said.

  ‘Ginger! Stop tiring him out.’ A suave man who could have been a movie star swung his arm around her shoulders and hauled her to her feet. ‘We all know you’ve had a crush on him ever since you saw his picture.’

  ‘Dom!’ she gave him a playful slap and grinned at Mike. ‘He doesn’t mean it. He’s just winding me up, such a naughty boy.’

  Dom whispered in Ginger’s ear and a little of her smile deflated before she pasted it back on and told Mike she’d see him later.

  ‘Sorry about Ginger,’ Dom said sitting down. ‘She’s so over the top.’

  He offered his hand whilst swinging his other around Mike’s shoulders as if one of them was running for mayor and there was a photographer on the other side of the table.

  ‘No worries. I’ve only ever spoken to her on the phone,’ Mike said, shaking the hand, relieved as Dom removed the arm again. Photo op done.

  ‘Look at her, she’s like that with all of her team.’ He gestured across to where Ginger had stopped Greg and was making the poor man blush.

  ‘I guess she is,’ Mike agreed.

  ‘Well, enjoy the evening, but a word to the wise, don’t stay up all night. Tomorrow will be full on, there’s an early team building exercise. Then a longish break for lunch, followed by two talks, a meet and great, an opportunity to put your name in the hat for promotion, shake some hands and get known amongst the company – not that you need that.’ Mike frowned. ‘It’ll go late into the night, as it usually does. The author has other signings to do in the area, that’s the reason for the weird schedule. It all has to be fitted in.’

  He patted Mike on the back as he got up.

  ‘If I can do anything for you whilst you’re here, just let me know.’ Then with a huge pearly white smile, he walked away.

  ‘Who was that?’ Greg asked returning with the drinks.

  ‘Dom. He saved me from Ginger’s onslaught.’

  ‘So, she’s like that with everyone?’ Greg asked. ‘I thought she seemed a little desperate myself.’

  ‘Apparently, she is,’ Mike confirmed. ‘Thanks for getting the drinks.’

  People kept introducing themselves and offering their assistance. Mike noted that those offers were aimed more at him than Greg but he didn’t say anything, they weren’t as willing to offer their assistance to anyone else either.

  He might have stayed longer if he hadn’t started to feel like people were waiting in line to meet him. Stan had once told him it was his Demon magnetism, and Mike had laughed and taken him at his word. He hadn’t learnt much of anything about being a Demon when he’d lived with his mother. She’d told him what was necessary; the symbols, the places to avoid, how to prevent the darkness from being in control. He’d learnt a lot from Stan about the Demon world. And he’d learnt that it wasn’t half as bad as his mother had warned him it was. He often wondered why they’d stayed away for so long. It wasn’t like they would have stood out.

  Something about the way the others were reacting to him made his mother’s warnings ring in his head. ‘You’re not like other Demons Mike. They will never treat you as their equal.’ He’d always thought that was because of what she was, but she’d insisted her kind was more accepted than he would ever be. Every Demon he met would want to be his friend, his ally, his lover, but not one of them would be doing it honestly.

  When he’d started hanging out with Stan he’d explained how there were different status levels, much like human society. Some were at the top and others at the bottom. There were bloodlines, more revered than others. Stan demonstrated this last by getting them into clubs they should never have been able to even sniff at.

  Stan was like a god back then. But around the late 18th century it had gotten too much for Mike and he’d slept. The world he woke up to was very different. And Stan was no longer around.

  In his room, he pulled the curtains and ran a bath. Getting in, he called Joy.

  ‘Hey Joy, how’s it going?’ he said into the phone.

  ‘I just got in. It’s weird here without you.’ The sound was a little tinny. ‘What are you up to?’

  ‘Just taking a bath, it’s been a long day. Not sure I’m going to remember everyone’s names tomorrow.’ He smiled as he heard her laughing. ‘Thought I’d try and catch you before you climbed into bed. So, I could say goodnight.’

  ‘That’s sweet. I miss you already,’ she said.

  ‘I won’t be gone long.’ He smiled.

  ‘I can’t wait for you to come home,’ she said before falling silent. He listened intently. ‘Did you hear that?’ she asked.

  He sat up, swishing the bath water hard as he moved.

  ‘I didn’t hear anything. What was it?’ he asked, wary.

  ‘Sounded like something fell.’

  ‘Inside or out?’ he asked.

  Then she started laughing. Laughing so hard she couldn’t tell him what it was.

  ‘Come on Joy,’ he pleaded, worried.

  ‘It’s the…that poster …’ she broke off to laugh some more. ‘I knew the nail wasn’t secure enough. The whole frame fell off the wall.’

  ‘You almost gave me a heart attack!’ he said

  ‘You! It almost gave me one!’ she said.

  ‘I thought someone had broken in, I was about to tell you to go hide.’ He was half laughing now in relief.

  ‘And what, wait for you to come save me?’ she was still chuckling. ‘I’m going to bed; I’ll talk to you tomorrow?’

  ‘I’ll call as soon as I get chance. Love you, good night.’ He smiled into the phone.

  He climbed out and got dried, using a towel to mop up the mess he’d made. He was such an idiot sometimes.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: YELLOW

  Task: Get into an argument with someone, it should be over something silly but end up with unnecessary shouting. You are right, not them!

  He started the day with a black coffee and a short phone call. It would have been longer but his boss wasn’t in the mood for an argument. In fact, he was downright sympathetic. Oliver had the rest of the week off and he’d only asked for one night. His boss had insisted. Something about how it was for him when his marriage went to shit and that he understood. Oliver was disappointed but didn’t give up hope.

  He couldn’t bring himself to argue with his dad when he rang to discuss his behaviour. His dad was right after all, and equally sympathetic when he found out why. Oliver assured him he’d be fine and no he didn’t need mum to come around to clean or cook for him. He could manage.

  Then his mate rang. That didn’t turn into an argument either. In fact, Oliver found himself trying to make up for his dickish behaviour. But his mate took it in stride an
d asked how much money he’d made. It hadn’t been enough for that lawyer.

  He was sure there would be no one willing to argue with him when there was a knock at the door. He wondered if he should have gotten dressed. A striped dressing gown was no way to answer the door – to the milkman.

  ‘Morning sir, just need you to pay the bill,’ the milkman said.

  ‘Right, only I have no money on me at,’ he patted his pockets as if to demonstrate and felt a draft.

  ‘Well, this is the second month there’s been no payment.’ The milkman waited for Oliver to offer the solution.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Oliver was racking his brain trying to remember whether he had paid. ‘I always pay on time.’

  ‘The lady of the house said you would pay. She was a bit short when I called you see.’

  ‘Was she now.’ Oliver all but growled.

  ‘Yes, sir.’ The milkman took a step back. ‘And if it isn’t paid, the deliveries must stop.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous!’ Oliver heard himself say. ‘I pay regular every month and the one time it isn’t paid is when that bitch answers the door.’

  ‘I never called her a bitch sir!’

  ‘No, I did.’ Oliver stepped forward. ‘And I ordered orange juice last month and never got it.’

  ‘Orange juice sir?’ the milkman stammered.

  ‘Yes, where’s my orange juice?’

  ‘I didn’t …’

  ‘Well, I’m not paying my bill until you get the delivery right,’ Oliver interrupted.

  ‘And you aren’t getting a delivery until you pay the bill.’ They were shouting now. Old Mrs. Greengage was letting Mr. Pickles, her beloved Yorkshire terrier, water the bushes. And trying to pay no attention.