The quiet of the inner city allowed the sounds of the sea to reach us, and we enjoyed the music of the waves and the distant clattering of bills as several storks returned to the Three Fates Factory.
Purgatory Lounge was empty, but at least it was open. Xaphen, the demon who ran the place, waved at us from his usual post behind the bar.
“Be with you in a minute,” he shouted as he finished drying a glass and placed it on a shelf along the mirrored back wall.
Kevin and I picked a booth near the front. We didn’t go out and drink much, especially not since his hellfire problem had been brought to my attention. He’d been clean for six months though, so I tried not to beat myself up too much for having him tag along. No one likes to drink alone.
“What’ll it be, kids?” Xaphen asked, setting a basket of peanuts on the table between us.
“Pitcher of Ambrosia Ale and four shots of demon piss,” I said, and then glanced at Kevin. “You hungry? I’m buying.”
“Wanna share a basket of wings?” he asked.
I nodded and turned back to Xaphen. “And a basket of wings.”
The old demon nodded and headed for the kitchen, while Kevin twiddled his fingers together on top of the table. He snatched a peanut and set to work prying open the shell.
“I really shouldn’t be drinking hard liquor,” he said, his eyes lowering nervously.
“The shots are for me. It’s been a rough day.”
“The mystery appointment?”
I thought of Ridwan and Holly. “Among other things.”
The jukebox clicked over, as if out of boredom, and began crooning out an oldie, while the traffic outside the front window increased. It was quitting time for most reapers, and they slowly began to filter through the city upon returning from their harvests.
Just as Xaphen delivered our drinks and wings, the bell above the door jingled. Kate poked her head around the corner and spied us at our table. Alex was a step behind her. She looked embarrassed to be standing outside on the sidewalk with passing reapers gawking at her.
Kate tossed her bangs back and raised an eyebrow at me. “Does that drink offer still stand?”
I contained my smirk and looked up at Xaphen. “Could you bring us another pair of mugs?”
Kate and Alex stepped inside, and Kevin moved around to my side of the table so the two of them could sit together across from us. After Kate’s rude comment that morning, I had to wonder if she’d just dropped by to see if she could gather gossip fodder about the new unit.
I nudged a couple of the shots across the table toward them and then lifted my own. The limey green liquid had a fizz to it, and it tickled my fingers as we clinked glasses.
“If I should stumble out this bar, I pray the night is worth the scar,” I said, tossing the drink back. Kevin pushed the remaining shot my way and I drank it too. I could tell it was going to be one of those nights.
Alex made a sour face as she sat her empty glass down hard on the table. She shook her head, wiping the sleeve of her robe across her mouth, while Kate squinted as if trying not to cringe. Her competitive nature never seemed to stall, but if she was looking to challenge me tonight, she was going to pay for it in the morning.
“I got the next round,” Kate said, waving her hand in the air to catch Xaphen’s attention.
The front door jingled again, and the wind caught it, throwing it wide open. Chatter drifted in off the sidewalk, bringing another lot of familiar faces with it. Molly, Tyler, Arden, and Asha made their way to our booth. Their baggy, black robes blended together, forming a dark curtain that dissected the room and blotted out the light from the front window.
“Look at that!” I said, a bittersweet tinge taking hold in my chest. “The whole gang turned out. Drinks all around.”
“We can’t stay.” Arden glanced back at Asha. Her face was a stony mask, and her arms were folded. Arden placed a hand on her shoulder and looked back at me. “I just wanted to congratulate you again, and to thank you for your service on the Posy Unit. It has been an honor working with you.”
“Same to you.” I shook his hand and tried not to notice how Asha refused to make eye contact with me. Somehow, I’d known I would catch the blame for her transfer.
Arden and Asha left, but Molly and Tyler stuck around a bit longer. I hollered for Xaphen to bring another pitcher and more glasses, and we all scrunched together in the booth. Molly sat beside me, while Tyler crammed in next to Kate.
“So you’re captaining a new unit?” Molly asked after ordering a bottled light beer from Xaphen. She gave the sticky bar table a questionable look and folded her hands in her lap.
“Special Ops.” I tossed back another shot and nodded, shivering as the booze hit the back of my throat in an explosion of tart lime and sugary sweet watermelon.
Kevin gave me a weary look, as if he was concerned I might overshare. I wasn’t that drunk. Yet. But there really wasn’t much to share, so I wasn’t worried about where my mouth might wander off to later in the night.
“I figured we were just a rung up on your ladder to the top,” Kate said. Alex gave her a scolding glare as she matched my shot.
The comment didn’t bother me. Everything Kate said was scathing to some degree, so I’d stopped taking it personally a long time ago. I grinned back at her and downed another shot, knowing Alex would drag her out of the bar long before I was ready to call it a night.
Tyler reached for the pitcher of ale and filled a mug. “Not many reapers to spare in the field these days. Who else did they recruit for the new unit?”
“The Nephilim Guard.” I paused to hiccup. “And maybe a reaper baby, if the council approves another lot to make up for our losses.”
Kevin made a face at my baby comment, but it was true. He hadn’t been a reaper two years yet, which meant his apprenticeship would last another ninety-eight. That thought alone had me reaching for another drink. As expected, Kate followed suit.
“Here’s to those who wish us well,” she said, holding her shot glass out to knock with mine again.
“All the rest can go to hell,” I finished with her.
Xaphen dropped by the table and swapped out our empty glasses with a tray of fresh ones, including a dozen more shots and another basket of wings. Kevin had almost polished off the first batch. I imagined it was in an attempt to distract himself from all the liquor. I pushed the fresh wings his way too.
Tyler helped himself to one of the green shots and raised it high, waiting for us to join him. Kevin and Molly passed, but Alex reluctantly picked one up after Kate and I did.
“You can deal with the devil,” he began, inspiring more than one eye roll around the table. Everyone joined in, reciting the most cliché of reaper toasts. “Or pray with your last breath. But time will catch you soon enough, there is no cheating death.”
We threw our shots back, and senseless laughter followed, as was standard whenever booze flowed freely. Molly’s smile grew tense as she finished off her beer. She shook her head when Xaphen tried to bring her another.
“I have dinner plans tonight, and I’d like to change first,” she said, standing up from the table.
Kevin’s eyes anxiously followed her, his one sober companion at the table. “I should take off too,” he said, bumping my arm to encourage me to stand so he could crawl out of the booth. “I’d like to go over those files one more time.”
It was a lame excuse, but I didn’t give him a hard time. Kate, Alex, and Tyler were company enough for now, and I felt less guilty about pushing shots on them.
I patted Kevin on the back as he stood up from the table. “If you happen to see Bub at the condo, tell him where I am, and that he’s welcome to join me,” I said, sliding back across the pew.
Tyler came around to my side to give Kate and Alex some breathing room, and we all waved as Kevin and Molly left. A handful of nephilim slipped past them, laughing as they approached the bar. One was in a guard uniform, and he lifted his nose in the air when he spotted m
e.
As someone who had previously shrugged their detail, I wasn’t popular among the guard. Not even after my name was cleared. Guess that didn’t make much difference when it came to showing them up. I considered buying the whole bar a round to break the tension, but then decided buying Kate’s booze was penance enough.
She lifted another shot glass and cleared her throat. “Don’t know if I’ve lied to the angels. Don’t know if I’ve lived in sin. But when the devil comes a knockin’, Lana’s just gotta let him in.” She tossed the drink back, and then coughed as she tried to giggle and swallow at the same time.
I snorted and drank my shot, immediately grabbing another once I’d finished. “May you eat when you’re hungry, drink when you’re dry, find a coin when you’re hard up, and grow a soul before you die.”
Kate paled as she tried to keep up with me, the green liquid leaking past the corners of her mouth. Alex gave me a disapproving glare and pushed the tray of shots back from their side of the table.
“I haven’t had a good bender in a while, but I can certainly say I’ve not tied one on this quickly before,” Tyler said, holding a shot glass in each hand. He wasn’t as desperate to show his ass as Kate was, or rather, he didn’t realize he was on the sidelines of a pissing match.
“I’m hungry,” Alex said, reaching for one of the menus tucked behind the dusty condiments bin. “What would you like, Kate?”
“A fuzzy navel.” She giggled and poked Alex in the ribs. “Maybe your fuzzy navel.”
Alex pushed her hand away and blushed. “I meant to eat.”
“Hmmmm.” Kate’s eyebrows wagged, turning Alex an even deeper shade of red.
“Kate,” she said in a warning voice.
“You’re right. That’s for dessert.”
Alex tucked her face down in the menu and grumbled, but her words were cut off as the jukebox fired up again, pumping out a classic rock ballad.
“I love this one,” Tyler slurred as he beat his fingers on the table like drumsticks. “You know, I was in a band for a few decades during my apprenticeship.”
“You don’t say?” I grinned and sipped at my beer, trying to ignore the fact that it took entirely too much effort to get the glass to line up with my mouth.
Tyler nodded. “We were good too. Ghostman and the Grims. All reaper ensemble, except for our front guy, Ghostman,” he said, wobbling on the pew as he leaned closer to me. “He was a factory soul, obviously.”
“Ovi-obi-obviously.” I snorted out a giggle and we clinked glasses.
Alex poked her head over the menu she was studying. “I think I might have one of your albums. Dead but not Forgotten?”
“That’d be us!” Tyler pumped his fist in the air. “I was the base player. We broke up after Ghostman’s contract with the factory ended. I hear he made it big on the other side. Went on to be a pop diva or something.”
“He was reborn as a girl?” Kate snickered. “Bet he loved that.”
“Yeah.” Tyler scratched his head. “Guess the contract only stipulates what family you’re born to. The rest is up to the Fates.”
Xaphen brought a fresh pitcher of ale and took Alex’s food order. I could tell he was thankful for the business, but he didn’t seem thrilled about the third tray of shots I ordered, though he brought them, and we continued our drunken conversing.
More nephilim and reapers wandered in as the evening grew late. A few minor deities made an appearance too, but no souls, reminding me that I was responsible for finding out who was snatching them up. It put a kink in my good mood that I tried to smooth out with more booze.
The front door jingled fiercely, and Bub suddenly appeared at the end of our table. His dark slacks and satiny dress shirt were too swanky for Purgatory, but fortunately he’d skipped the suit jacket. He gave Tyler an appraising glare and then lifted an eyebrow. “I believe you’re in my seat.”
“Oh!” Tyler stumbled out of the booth and tripped over the hem of his robe as he squeezed in with Kate and Alex.
Bub hooked his cane on the edge of the table and sat beside me. Confusion crept over his face as he gave me a once-over, but it soon shifted to amusement. “Are you… drunk, my love?”
“What? No,” I lied, rolling my eyes. They were practically floating.
Xaphen returned with a basket of fried okra and onion rings for Kate. “Good to see ya, Bub. What are we havin’ tonight?”
Bub rested his arms on the table and tapped his fingertips together. “An old-fashioned would be lovely.”
Xaphen hurried off, leaving the table in silence. My colleagues didn’t know how to act around the Lord of the Flies. They traded anxious frowns, and I had to think fast to stave off the awkwardness.
“Give us your best toast. We’ve run out,” I said, handing out green shots from the tray in the center of the table.
“You’ve run out?” Bub grinned. “So you are drunk.”
“Whatever. I’ll drink you under this table.” I held a glass out to him, trying and failing not to sway.
“Hmmm.” Bub took the shot and raised it. “May you never go to hell, but always be on your way.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Kate said.
We touched glasses over the table, and the sticky green booze sloshed over the rim of my glass and trickled down my hand and wrist. I drank the shot, spilling more of it in a line across my cheek.
“Oh dear.” Bub sighed. “You’re going to be a handful tonight, aren’t you?”
I groaned and lay my head on his shoulder. “It’s been one hell of a day, and I just want to forget the whole thing.”
“You seem to be well on your way,” he whispered and pushed a curl away from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “But Kevin tells me you have a meeting with the council in the morning.”
“Kevin’s got a big mouth,” I said, pushing myself upright again. “Where’s Xaphen? We need more shots.”
Xaphen returned with Bub’s old-fashioned. The flames along the demon’s brow danced nervously as our eyes met.
“Would you be an angel and bring us another tray of demon piss, Xaph?” I hiccupped and tried to bat my eyelashes, but the gesture felt too complicated for my stupefied state. I probably looked like I had something in my eye.
Xaphen raised an eyebrow at Bub in question. It disappeared beneath his crown of flames.
“What are you looking at him for? He’s not paying for them, I am,” I said, trying for an indignant tone that came off more desperate than anything else.
Bub pressed his lips together and sighed. He gave Xaphen a short nod. “One more tray, then I’ll get her home.”
“One?” I whined. “No one ever lets me have any fun.”
A sharp wind hit my face, and then Gabriel was in the bar, his wings folding up neatly against his back. He was in a crisp robe, not his usual drawstring pants, and I couldn’t spot a single wrinkle—or Cheeto stain for that matter. His brooding eyes took in our table with blatant disapproval.
“What are you doing here?” I slurred. “Thought the Board of Heavenly Hosts didn’t want you consorting with the riffraff ’round these parts.”
“I can go wherever I choose to,” he said, his chin held high. “I just refrain from making a fool of myself in public. You should too.”
I swirled my finger in the air mockingly. “Whoop dee doo. Reputations are highly overrated. I should know.”
Gabriel stepped forward, the judgey look in his face shifting to worry. “Lana—”
“Drink with me,” I said, holding out a shot glass. “If you can do as you choose, like you say, share one of your famous toasts with us.”
Gabriel’s jaw flexed and his nostrils flared, but he took the glass and touched it to mine. “To absent friends.” He drank his shot slowly, watching me over the rim of his glass.
A lump found its way into the back of my throat, and even the shot couldn’t make it go away. In fact, it seemed to make matters worse. Gabriel knew my weaknesses, and he wasn’t afraid to exploit them
if he thought it was for my own good.
“That’s it?” Tyler frowned at the sullen angel. “You’ve been known as the Angel of Ale for, like, the past century, and that’s the best toast you’ve got?”
“The Angel of Ale?” I put a hand over my mouth, but I couldn’t muffle my laughter. “How have I not heard that before?”
“Because most know better than to say it within earshot,” Bub said, watching as Gabriel’s expression grew wrathful.
Chapter 7
“I don’t like to commit myself about heaven and hell—you see, I have friends in both places.” —Mark Twain
Gabriel’s eyes glowed with holy rage. A year ago, being called the Angel of Ale wouldn’t have bothered him at all. Hell, he probably would have answered to it. But now that he was aspiring to holier things, the insult clearly stung.
“Uh oh.” I giggled, too drunk to keep my mouth shut at this point.
Alex shoved her leftover onion rings in front of Tyler and stuffed one in his mouth, cramming the entire thing past his lips. “Don’t mind him. He won’t even remember this conversation in the morning,” she said, giving Gabriel a strained smile.
Tyler mumbled a protest around the onion ring, but whether it was at her statement or the force-feeding was anyone’s guess. Kate shook with silent laughter, and Alex elbowed her in the ribs hard enough to earn a grunt and a belch.
“I think I might be sick,” I said, leaning my head against Bub’s shoulder again.
Bub pushed his half-finished drink away. He dropped a heavy coin next to it and then stood, pulling me along with him. The pew was slippery, and I had trouble slowing the trajectory of my ass along its polished surface. Bub wobbled on his feet a moment before reaching for his cane.
“Let me help,” Gabriel snapped. He still hadn’t warmed to my demon lover, but exchanging words of any sort with him was a vast improvement.
Bub looped one of my arms over his shoulders and wrapped a hand around my waist, leaving his other free to hold his cane. He nodded at Gabriel. “If you’d like to take her other side—”
Ghost Market (Lana Harvey, Reapers Inc. Book 6) Page 5