by Ashlee Sinn
I settled on the demon painting and maneuvered it onto the hook Ashby left behind. The reds and browns complimented the wood in the apartment and I was proud of myself for making my first independent decorating choice in…well, in decades. On to the furniture next. After sliding and shoving the couch, end tables, and other decorative pieces around over and over, the place was starting to feel like home again. I’d been so wrapped up in my job, I hadn’t notice the sun rose until a sharp glare of light caught me in the eye. It was reflecting off the mirror next to the front door, so I walked toward it with the intent to readjust.
However, as I approached, I quickly noticed the light wasn’t coming from just the sun. There, in the middle of my reflection, was a different face staring back at me. “Son of a bitch,” I breathed when it caught me off guard.
“Oh, Bella. Don’t be so crass.” The man, or woman, smirked. Echo, my sire’s secretary, had changed up her look. Instead of the drag queen, big hair and overdone makeup, he/she now donned black eyeliner, a spiked hairdo, and a dark suit. The only feminine thing about Echo was the bright red lipstick. Even his voice sounded deeper.
“You shouldn’t just show up unannounced,” I shouted into the mirror.
“Relax, baby. You didn’t give me a chance to call you.”
“You were blinding me.”
Echo flicked his hand. “Oh, please. That was the sun.” Pretending to file his nails, he continued with a nonchalant attitude. “Mammon needs to see you.”
“I’m on vacation.”
Echo huffed a laugh, forcing me to respond.
“What? I am. Don’t you remember that Ashby got married?”
“That was yesterday, hon.” Echo held up his hand and pressed a button on the headphone in his ear. “No, I don’t care what he says. His payment was due last week. Stick him in the rack. Stretch him a little and see if he suddenly remembers where he put the gold.” Echo sighed and then looked back at me. “Sorry about that. Now, where were we?”
“I was telling you how I’m on a break—”
“Oh, right. Yeah, so no. You’re not. Ashby got married yesterday and Mammon has a job for you.”
“Seriously?” I was fully aware of how whiny I sounded but I didn’t care.
“Meet her within the hour, or else,” Echo said with a lilt in his voice.
“Or else what? Hello? Echo?” The only image staring back at me was my own face. “Bastard,” I mumbled, wondering if Echo could still see the portal but was just acting like he’d closed the space.
So, Mammon has a job for me. Fitting, I suppose. She would know that I’d be a little lost not having my sister here anymore. She also knew me well enough to understand that I’d rather be out there collecting souls instead of wallowing in my own self-pity.
“Fine, mother,” I grumbled to myself, heading into my bathroom to get dressed. A few minutes later, I’d put on my leather pants, the matching red sweater that showed an inch of skin along my stomach, and the knee-high boots I loved to wear on the job. The bright red lip stick complemented the look, and after one more approving glance in the mirror, I closed my eyes and focused on Mammon.
When I landed on the sidewalk, I immediately recognized her location today. The Dragon King Chinese restaurant was one of her favorites. The aroma of soy sauce, fried rice, and steak filled my nose and made my stomach growl. Chinese wasn’t a favorite dish of mine, but these guys really knew their stuff. I dusted off my black leather jacket and tucked it under my arm. Nights in the city were starting to cool down and I had a feeling this was going to be a job that took several hours to complete.
As I opened the front door to the restaurant, all noise stopped. Every single patron looked up and stared while every single employee dropped their gaze as I sauntered by. They knew exactly who I was yet they never knew if it was their turn or not.
“Relax boys,” I cooed. “You’re safe today.” Waving to those I passed, I walked through the kitchen and tried a few bites of shrimp. No one was going to stop me because everyone was afraid of what might happen to them if they did.
Behind the store room and before the back exit was a stairway leading down into the building’s basement. Mammon liked to do her business underground—she said she felt more at home that way. Dark, damp, and glowing with candles, she’d yet to fully grasp on to modern technology. At the bottom of the stairs sat her two hounds. A mix of human dogs and demon spawn, the two beasts hated almost everything that walked by them.
But they’d always loved me. Crouching to my knee, I kissed Ivan on the snout first. “Hello, my friend,” I said as he licked my nose. “Are you behaving yourself today?”
Tore whimpered until I swiveled on my knees and rubbed behind his ears. Their sleek black fur and elongated heads reminded me of a Doberman, but they were the size of Great Dane and had the bite of a wolf. Tore pushed his face against mine. “Such a snuggle buddy,” I cooed at the gorgeous beast. I’d once asked Mammon to make me a hound of my own, but she’d refused, saying something about patience and time.
“Daughter, you have finally arrived.” Mammon sat behind a large desk in a makeshift office space. The fake wood walls created an air of sophistication, yet there was no escaping the scent of mold and dampness in this underground lair of hers.
“Sire,” I said with a nod. Echo stood behind Mammon with a clipboard in his hands and a scowl on his face. Tapping the pen against the metal clip, the pinging sound reverberated between us. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Something you’d like to say, Echo.”
He pinched his lipstick-donned lips together and kept his mouth shut.
Mammon laughed. “Echo and I had a bet. And he’s just mad that he lost.” She held out her hand, not even bothering to turn around. Echo pulled out some type of coin from his pocket and placed it in her outstretch palm. “Thank you.”
Mammon had her shorter, red hair slicked back with some type of shiny mousse. Even sitting down, I could see that she wore her trademark duster and stiletto boots. She’d been into the punk rock décor for the last two decades. I wondered when she would move on to something else, but for now, she seemed to be content with wearing attire from the nineteen eighties.
“Did you bet against me, Echo?” I jeered.
He shrugged and set the clipboard in front of Mammon. “This is the one Ashby failed to collect.”
“What?” I asked in surprise. Stepping forward, I tried to see the information in front of my sire. But she not-so-discretely placed her hand on top of the paper and stared up at me.
“Your sister neglected many of her duties the past several weeks,” Mammon started.
“Well, she was planning a wedding.”
With a laugh, Mammon tsked. “No excuse. She’s lucky I don’t punish her.”
“Really?” I whispered.
“Her loyalties should be with me. Not that human.”
I rubbed my forehead, anticipating the headache that would be coming next. “I agree. But Ashby is one of your best collectors. Just give her a chance to take a little break. She’ll come back. I promise.”
“Are you willing to bet your life on it?” Mammon’s smirk let me know this was a test. She didn’t care about Ashby, she wanted to see where my loyalties were.
“Yes, I am,” I said.
“Hmm…” Mammon scribbled something on the paper and then handed it to me. “He’s escaped us several times. I need you to bring him home.”
Looking down at the name and birthdate, I shook my head. “An old man?”
Echo and Mammon shared a look I didn’t care for—as though I was the only one not in on some big secret. Glaring at the lesser demon, I flashed a wicked smirk his way when he caught my eyes.
“Children.” Mammon said with a flick of her wrist. “Behave.”
“She started it,” Echo said and I laughed. Stupid Under.
“This old man sold his soul to me decades ago, yet has avoided Death somehow,” Mammon continued. “For the past several weeks, I have sent collectors
after him, but not one has come back with his soul.”
“Why?” I asked, finally intrigued.
Mammon tilted her head and shrugged. “We think he’s got a protector.”
“Like an angel?” I asked in surprise.
“I’m not sure,” Mammon admitted. “Regardless, his time is up.” She stared at me until I felt the pull of her power. “You won’t let him get away, right Arabella?”
“No,” I whispered.
“Here, take this.” Echo stepped out from behind the desk and handed me a small knife.
Flipping it around in my hand, I admired the finely carved blade with old writings etched into the handle. “What is this?”
“A gift from Lucifer,” Mammon said, a hint of remorse dancing across her face. “It will help you against the protector.”
“I can’t kill an angel. Only an archdemon can do that.”
Mammon smiled at me like a child. “Of course. But that blade will give you the time you need to pull Otis Redmond’s soul into the underground where it belongs.”
“Okay…” Confused at her words, I did my best to stuff them away and focus on the task at hand.
“Here is the address.” Mammon motioned for Echo to bring the paper to me. “You have twelve hours.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but Mammon shook her head. We were done talking and I wasn’t going to get anymore of my questions answered. Something didn’t feel right about this collection, but it wasn’t my job to second guess my sire. She’d created me to be a Soul Snatcher. It was all I knew and it was what I was good it.
Stopping to get a quick pet of the hounds, I waited until they finished their licks to walk back up the stairs. Pushing through the old wood door that lead into the kitchen, the aroma of the restaurant slammed into me again. The chefs in the back spoke to me in Mandarin, talking very fast and offering me everything they could think of. Refusing a bite of puffer fish, I instead kissed one of them on the cheek and patted another on the shoulder. Had I been human, I may have cared about their fear and tried to ease their worry.
But I wasn’t human and I didn’t care that they were afraid. They should be afraid. Even though the shifters revealed themselves a few months ago, these pitiful creatures had no idea where the real danger was. Hell was real and it was nothing to laugh about.
I stepped out onto the street, already early afternoon, and let the sun beams warm me up. I missed the heat of below. My trips consisted of only brief visits to deliver my bounty, and even after several centuries of topside living, my inner demon still craved the warmth and comfort of my birthplace.
Unfolding the paper, I studied the information. His shop was in SoHo, so I closed my eyes and focused on the energy stream that would help take me there. “Okay, Otis Redmond. Time to pay the piper.”
Otis owned an antique shop. And in this part of the city, he must have been making some good money to be able to afford a storefront property.
The afternoon streets were bustling, but when I walked into the store, I was greeted with silence and the scent of old wood and cured leather. Filled to the ceiling, Otis must have been quite the collector. Rows upon rows of china and crystal and knickknacks lined the inner aisles, while the perimeter of the store held the larger treasures like clocks and tables and armoires. In the corner, a glass case displayed swords from times past and showcased daggers that resembled the one in my pocket right now. Upon further inspection, I realized the knives were not as magical as my own and breathed a sigh of relief. If Otis had a protector watching over him, I didn’t need a demon killing dagger to be sitting on these shelves somewhere.
“Hello?” a hoarse voice called out. “I’m in the back if you need any help.”
Following the sounds of my mark, I brushed my hand along an old piano as I turned the corner. A layer of dust covered my finger tip and I smiled at the poor soul who had to clean this place. A dim light illuminated the area where Mr. Redmond was fixated on an old clock. Wearing several types of glasses, the man hunched over his treasure and worked at removing the back. As I stepped closer, he ignored me until he finally spoke.
Without making eye contact, he said, “Go away.”
“Excuse me?”
Still not looking, he continued. “I’m not ready yet. I have to finish fixing this clock.”
Crossing my arms, I let out a huff. “It doesn’t work that way, Otis. You’ve been stalling.”
A hint of a smile crossed the old man’s dark skin as he peered up at me over top of the thick reading glasses. “It’s not my time yet.”
I dug into my pocket and slammed Mammon’s orders on top of his desk. He flinched but continued working. “According to your contract it is.” I stood straight and took in the bookshelves on both sides. Old tomes with real leather bindings caught my attention and I pulled a few of them out while Otis did his best to ignore my presence. “Dante’s Inferno,” I said. “He almost had it right.”
Otis huffed a laugh and picked up another tool. “Well, I’m not going to find out yet.” He sounded so sure of himself—so confident and arrogant that it had me wondering why I’d been sent to collect his soul.
“What did you do, Otis? What did you promise your soul for?”
He set down the clock and lifted the glasses to the top of his head. “I made a mistake.”
“No take backs on soul selling, Otis,” I said in a sing-song voice. “But you knew that.”
“I did,” he admitted. “But I’ve changed since then.”
“No one changes.”
“Oh, but they do,” he breathed, a small smile gracing his face.
I didn’t like his tone…as though he knew some grand secret I wasn’t a part of. “Otis, you don’t have to make this hard.” I walked closer to his counter and set both of my hands on each side of the clock. Leaning forward, I used my sweetest voice. “I can give you a painless death.”
“I told you,” he grumbled. “It’s not my time yet.”
“Says who?”
Otis looked over my shoulder and smiled. “Says him.”
Whipping around, I stood tall as I narrowed my eyes on the man waiting behind us. Easily a foot taller than me, his dark brown hair hung freely to his chin and his bright green eyes looked directly through me. Built and muscular, I was surprised to see him wearing jeans and a jacket that covered up his skin. It had been my experience that members of his breed didn’t like modesty.
“Angel,” I breathed.
“Demon,” he nodded with a smirk. The deep timbre of his voice echoed in the small space.
“Told you,” Otis laughed.
Looking back over my shoulder at the old man, I shook my head. “He can’t protect you forever,” I jeered.
With a defiant shrug, Otis continued working on his clock like there wasn’t an angel and a demon facing off in front of him.
“You should leave,” the angel said.
“Fuck off.”
He chuckled and stepped closer to me. “I’d heard you were feisty.” His tone, and the way his eyes traveled up and down my body, made me temporarily forget that we were sworn enemies.
“Otis belongs to us. He signed a contract sixty years ago.”
The angel leaned to the side and spoke to the old man directly. “What did you do?”
Otis finally put down his tools and addressed the angel as though I wasn’t standing between them. “I shot a cop,” he sighed. “I was young and stupid and my lawyer told me that I could avoid a life sentence if…” his voice trailed off and shook with memory.
“If you gave your soul to Hell?” the angel suggested.
Otis nodded.
I looked at the man and crossed my arms. “This is how it works. You know the drill…what’s your name?”
With a smirk, the angel said, “Jericho.”
“Well, Jericho, it’s a story as old as time. A human fucks up. They make a deal with the Devil. And then I come collecting when their time has run out. It’s as simple as that.”
I pulled the contract off the desk and held out my hand toward Jericho. At the same time, I let my other hand drift toward my back pocket where I’d stashed the dagger. “I have his contract.”
“I don’t care.”
Tired of the arrogant aura surrounding the stupid, sexy angel, I stalked toward him. Pressing a hand against his very hard chest, I looked up and licked my lips. “He’s mine,” I breathed, digging my feet into the ground in preparation. “So, I suggest you stay out of my way.”
“I’m not going to—”
Just as Jericho prepared to argue with me, I grabbed the dagger from my back pocket with the intention of stabbing him in gut. It wouldn’t have killed him…just warned him to stay away. But Jericho sensed my actions before the knife hit him and a blinding pulse of light exploded from his body. The force of the attack sent me flying backward, and as I covered my eyes from the blast, I landed on my ass and slid into the counter. My dagger fell to the ground, the metal scraping on the old wood floors like laughter. I spotted the weapon a few feet away. But when I reached forward for it, Jericho held out his hand and the knife flew up into his palm.
“What the hell?” I groaned, pushing to my feet to stare the angel in the face.
A set of monstrous, white wings now protruded from his back, shielding me from the light that seemed to emit from every part of his body. Jericho flipped the knife around in his hand and cocked his head. “I told you to leave,” he growled a second before he threw the dagger at me.
Without thinking, I blinked out of existence and reappeared behind the angel just as the knife slammed into the counter. With both hands, I grabbed a hold of Jericho’s wings near where they protruded from his back, and pushed my feet into the ground. With a banshee cry, I swung the angel around and tossed him into the closest wall. Glass shattered, Otis cried out, and several shelves fell to the ground on top of Jericho. Another burst of bright light allowed the angel to push the debris away from him as he stood and glared at me.
“That was unnecessary,” he grumbled, still brushing dust and glass off his clothes. Shaking his wings, a few feathers drifted to the ground while he continued to glare.