“I’ve got some errands to run.” I pulled on my boots and slipped my messenger bag strap over my head and across my chest.
“Want some company?” Kevin asked, wiping his hands down the front of his pants. He and Bub got along well enough, but my demon’s melancholy was infecting the entire condo. Even Saul and Coreen looked depressed as they lounged in the living room, watching the puppies chase stray kibble under the kitchen table.
“I’m stopping by Athena’s,” I said, knowing the reaction I’d get.
Kevin blushed. “Uh, actually, I should probably take the hounds for a run.” He cleared the trash from the counter and then went to dig the leads out of the coat closet. The slightly bigger helljack puppy slipped past him and pawed down the side of the Cerberus Chow food bag, spilling a handful of kibble.
Bub pointed his cane at the mess. “As far as suitable names go, I stand by my vote for Gluttony.”
I laughed and gave him a kiss on the cheek before leaving the condo. Bub enjoyed shopping, but I needed an escape from his glum mood. I had enough guilt hanging around my head, so I refused to accept the blame for his sulking. There was nothing I could do about it anyway.
Jenni had said not to involve the Lord of the Flies. I’d gotten that lecture a second time after she finished making the phony deal with Tasha last night. But she didn’t say I couldn’t tell him what was going on.
I’d been extra forthcoming with the details, thanks to that pesky bout of guilt for not telling him about Naledi’s procedure, and now I was kicking myself for it. Of course he had to point out the underhandedness of our technique. And I’d known that he wouldn’t like not being able to tag along, but the fact that Maalik was now involved made everything that much worse.
Fresh air and shopping, maybe a latte, that was sure to perk me up. It would have been nice to have a girlfriend along for the adventure, but I was in short supply these days. Josie had to go and die on me, Jenni was busy fighting for the title of ringleader within the council, and Ellen had been blowing me off with the excuse that Duster was newly resurrected and needed extra attention for the past three months. The amount of dust on her blouse Saturday morning proved that he’d been reborn much more recently, and it pained me that she had lied to avoid my company.
I sighed and hurried down the hall toward the elevators. Ever since I’d bumped into Holly, I’d been particularly mindful about coming and going. Her passive-aggressive attitude toward me lately was unnerving, especially when she’d been so eager to have me move into the condo in the first place. But, to be fair, that was two hounds, a demon, and some accidental bloodshed ago.
I rode an elevator down from the tenth floor and jumped when I heard my name as I stepped out into the lobby.
“Over here!” Warren waved his hand from the entrance to the parking garage. His wings fluttered excitedly as I approached him. “Well? How did it go?”
I tried to keep a neutral face as my pulse quickened. “How did what go?”
“Testing the gauntlet, of course.” He gave me a forced smile and laughed nervously.
“Oh, man. Look, Warren. I haven’t had a chance yet.” I put a hand on his shoulder and sighed. “I promise I’ll give it a go as soon as this mission is over. If I screw this up, the council is going to kill me.” I didn’t elaborate on the literalness of the statement.
Warren nodded, his smile looking more disappointed than hopeful. “I get it. I’ve botched a few things—but honestly, this is not one of them. You should really give it a chance.”
“I will. Cross my heart.” An elevator pinged behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder, blowing out a tense breath when I realized it was just my nephilim neighbor Harold.
I said goodbye to Warren and left Holly House as quickly as my feet would carry me. Athena’s Boutique was only two blocks away, but even if I hadn’t felt up to walking, there wasn’t a travel booth any closer than that to her store.
The historic district had strict codes about new construction. The buildings were some of the oldest in Limbo, and they had been meticulously cared for through the centuries. When Grim began the travel booth project, the business owners on that stretch of Morte Avenue had put together a petition to prevent a booth from marring their perfect slice of antiquity. Athena’s Boutique was smack-dab in the middle of that slice, the crown jewel of the new world beyond the grave.
The attack on the city had done the most damage down Morte Avenue, and another petition had ensured that their repairs received the most immediate attention. While Reapers Inc. was still being patched up more than six months after the fact, the historic district looked good as new.
The etched stone sign above Athena’s shop had been washed clean by the recent rain, and ivy snaked its way over one corner and up the front of the building. A trio of animated, wooden mannequins pranced around in the display window below the sign, their arms linked together like they were headed for the yellow brick road. They all sported slinky cocktail dresses and strappy heels.
One waved, and I lifted my arm to wave back before I could stop myself. My longing for female companionship was reaching pathetic new heights.
The bell above the door jingled when I stepped inside, and the smell of fruity perfume made my head spin. Racks of brightly colored clothes clashed together in a tropical jungle of retail euphoria. Several of the dummies on a central platform were lounging on beach chairs, plastic cocktail cups with tiny umbrellas in hand.
“Welcome to Athena’s,” a mildly bored voice said. Arachne hunched over the front counter, her nose pointed down at a magazine. “Please feel free to try on something from the exciting new spring line,” she said in a dry monotone.
“Where’s Athena?” I was surprised not to find the goddess at her usual post behind the register.
Arachne glanced up and then back at her magazine. “On vacation. Can I take a message for you?”
“That’s all right. I was just curious.” My voice trailed off and Arachne didn’t bother acknowledging me again.
I stole a peek at her magazine and quickly realized it was the issue of Limbo’s Laundry that I’d flipped through in Skipper’s cab. She was reading the article about Naledi’s new subcommittee. I was sure there were plenty of unflattering things about me in there, and I felt my cheeks warm as I turned away.
I pushed past all the bright colors and swatted away the hand of a mannequin as it tried to hand me a wide-brimmed sunhat, heading straight for the back of the store to the sole aisle of black garments. I found a pair of leather pants and a turtleneck, two items I had to replace in my wardrobe more often than seemed healthy or financially rational. The thought made the thrift store on Tasha’s list come to mind.
I skipped the dressing rooms upstairs and headed straight for the register, purchasing my items and leaving the boutique before Arachne had read much more of her trash mag. I didn’t need the pomposity, and she didn’t need the fat lip.
Benny Jo’s was just north of the city park, close enough to the factory to draw in the new souls with little to no disposable income. The patron saint of bachelors and beggars seemed to give away more than he actually sold, a solid enough reason for Tasha to lipstick him on her map I guess.
Bub hadn’t learned anything useful on his shopping excursion, but then again, saints don’t take too kindly to demons poking around in their businesses. I was hoping I’d have better luck.
I walked the three and a half blocks across town to the quieter neighborhood and held my breath as I entered the warehouse building through a glass door with peeling vinyl letters. The smell of stale sweat and cheap air fresheners made me want to run back to Athena’s.
“What can I do you for?” Benny smiled at me from a booth in the center of a sea of random castoffs. His eyes were full of warmth, and he looked genuinely happy to be folding the stack of tee shirts in his lap.
I set my bag from Athena’s on the counter and dug Tasha’s wanted flyer out of my messenger bag, unfolding it for Benny to see. “Can you
tell me when you last saw this reaper?”
Benny’s smile froze in place and he paused before shaking his head. “Sorry.”
I slapped the flyer on the counter when he grabbed another tee shirt, forcing him to look up again. “I know she’s been in here. A lot. I didn’t think saints were so prone to lying.”
“I don’t lie.” Benny’s voice remained cheerfully even. “I said sorry. As in, sorry, but I won’t be helping you.”
I bit my bottom lip and sighed. “She’s a rogue reaper who joined the rebels, a major threat to not only this city but all of Eternity, and you didn’t report her to the guard when she came into your store. I believe that makes you an accessory.”
“To what crime?” Benny asked, his focus shifting back to his stack of shirts. “She never stole anything from me, and most of what she left here with was for others. What kind of saint would I be if I interfered with the good works of others?”
“Good works?” I shouted, earning a glare from a nephilim shopper on the opposite side of the store. “She shot a guard in the face with brimstone a week ago. He’s still in recovery. How’s that for good works?”
Benny paled but he continued folding. “Let those without sin cast the first stone. Are you without sin?”
I left the thrift store in a fit of frustrated rage and stormed off down Destiny Avenue to the travel booth on Council Street. Good works, my ass. Tasha was probably taking the clothes across town and selling them to the thrift store near Westwood. Benny had totally been suckered. And just where the hell did he get off asking about my sins?
I decided to skip the latte, because I wasn’t sure I could handle anyone else telling me what a great person Tasha was. She was a traitor and a heathen, and if I didn’t remember that, I was sure to regret it when she turned on me.
Not to mention, when it came time for me to turn on her.
Chapter 21
“It doesn't make sense to have to do the wrong thing in order to do the right thing.” —Jim DeMint
“It’s… shiny,” Bub said, admiring the silver cuff on my wrist. I’d finally broken down and dug Warren’s new gadget out of the coat closet.
Kevin nodded in agreement. “Maybe too shiny. Doesn’t really go with your ninja getup.”
I tugged the arm of my turtleneck down, tucking the thin material under the edge of the device, and then went back to reading the instruction pamphlet.
“Eight-soul capacity, three-hour holding maximum, spring-loaded ejection lever under jewel casing. What the hell is that supposed to mean?” My eyes blurred as I tried to read the tiny print.
Bub snatched the pamphlet from me and held it under the chandelier over the dining room table. “I still don’t see why I can’t come along.” He grumbled under his breath as he read and then reached for my hand.
I pulled my sleeve up again for him to inspect the gauntlet. “Jenni says the council will have a fit if you do.”
“The council is a bunch of twats.” He pressed down on a rounded cutout set along the rim of the gauntlet and a larger dome on the inside of my wrist popped open, revealing a dial. It pointed to the far left of a meter labeled one through eight, the color scheme shifting from green to yellow to red.
The cartoony nature of the inner workings clashed with the medieval exoskeleton, and it made me wonder if I was doing the right thing by wearing the gadget tonight.
“Maybe I should put it back…”
Kevin raised an eyebrow at me. “Warren will never stop harassing you if you do that. Just wear the thing around and tell him you’re waiting for the right opportunity. At least that should back him off.”
I tucked my shirt down over the gauntlet again and kissed Bub’s pursed lips. I could only ignore his sulking at this point, since there wasn’t anything I could do to fix it, and he knew that just as well as I did. “I can’t wait for that fancy dinner tomorrow night,” I said, hoping it would lift his spirits.
“I’m eating that bloody chicken with or without you.” He gave me a stern look.
“If it’s going to be bloody, you might very well be eating it without me.” I stuck my tongue out, smiling when he let a small laugh slip.
“Take care tonight, love,” he said, his face falling somber again. “Don’t put yourself in a pinch over those devils hiding in their ivory tower.”
“At this point, I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.” I shrugged. “It’s an easier pill to swallow if I just think about saving Jai Ling.” That was the only noble objective in this whole mission.
Kevin and I loaded up the battle gear and said goodnight, leaving Bub and the hounds behind. I wouldn’t need Saul tonight, not with the tracking compact and bracelets Maalik was so graciously volunteering. And I didn’t feel right taking Coreen away from her puppies, since it was looking more and more like she would only have another month with them before the move to Tartarus—or wherever Bub and I ended up if the council tried to screw me over.
Abe was waiting for us at the Nephilim Guard station when we arrived. He’d swapped out his standard golden armor for a black set, and a black cloak topped the ensemble, hiding his white wings so he’d be able to disappear into the shadows with us.
Kevin tightened the strap of his bow over his shoulder. “Dude, you look like the Darth Vader of the guard.”
Abe made a face, but then looked down at himself and grinned. “I guess I do. I wonder if they’d let me trade my spear in for a light saber.”
Chatter drifted down the hallway, and soon everyone else spilled into the lobby with us. Jenni led the way with Asmodeus close on her heels. A soul, the one I assumed we would be using as bait, followed a step behind.
Maalik brought up the rear, dragging Tasha along by her elbow. He frowned at the open tracking device in his other hand. “Everything appears to be in working order.”
Tasha gave him a smug grin. “Well, that wasn’t much of a test drive. And here I thought you were going to rev my engine and ride me around the block a few times.” She gyrated her hips mockingly.
Maalik’s face creased and he let go of her arm. Tasha rubbed a hand over her opposite wrist. The tracking bracelets were a bit shocking in the way they dissolved under the flesh, invisible and undetectable without the tracking compact. Their technology was a bit dated and a teensy bit illegal—though not quite as illegal as being me apparently.
The only time the bracelets had ever failed had been when Naledi manipulated the one I’d given her in order to lead me around Eternity to collect the original believers she’d found. I still wasn’t sure how she’d managed it, but I guess that was one of the many perks of being the throne soul.
Jenni clapped her hands together to gather our attention, and we all huddled in a little closer. “Here’s the deal. Ross and his men surveilled the known soul drop sites—”
“That I provided you with,” Tasha interrupted.
Jenni gave her a lethal glare. “We’ve found one that looks fairly active over on Tombstone Drive. Tasha is going to take Ramone there and try to sell him.”
The soul standing beside Asmodeus nodded, and Maalik squeezed his shoulder. The keeper of hellfire hadn’t looked at me once, and I could tell he didn’t like this plan one little bit. I wasn’t sold on it yet either.
Jenni continued, “Then we’ll track Ramone via the bracelet and hopefully get an idea of where the souls are being kept or how they’re being transported out of the city. Once that’s established, we’ll send the guard in to crash their party.”
Maalik cleared his throat. “We’ll be leaving Reapers Inc. in an SUV and escorting you to safe checkpoints, since the travel booths are set to lockdown if the facial recognition picks up Ms. Henry here,” he said, nodding at Tasha.
“Why, thank you for that bit of information, Mr. Hellfire,” Tasha said with a Southern drawl. “Much obliged.”
“It won’t do you any good,” I said. “That bracelet can track you anywhere in Eternity. Unless you feel like chopping your own hand off, your ass is
ours.”
“Well, if you’re so fond of my ass, why don’t you go ahead and kiss it?”
“Focus, children.” Jenni gave me a wide-eyed glare and straightened the hem of her blouse. “There are dozens of high profile souls out there about to be traded into slavery. If you fuck this up, the council will have all of our heads on pikes by the end of the week. I wish that was an exaggeration, but believe me when I say it’s not.”
My breath felt trapped in my throat, and I had to swallow before my lungs began working again. Jenni panicking was not a good sign. I wanted to ask her what had changed, but there wasn’t time, and Tasha had been fed enough of my business for one night.
The smirk was gone from her face, but she still had that caged-animal look in her eyes. “Let’s get this over with.”
Chapter 22
“The world is a fine place and worth the fighting for and I hate very much to leave it.” —Ernest Hemingway
The drop took all of five minutes. It was neat and tidy, and something about it felt entirely off. The doorman at the site had taken the bait easily enough, but Tasha claimed that he had asked her to come back in two hours. Something about wanting time to appraise the soul’s value.
So we headed back to Reapers Inc. to watch the screen on the tracking compact, which was about as exciting as watching Saul take a dump after the time he’d foraged a whole block of moldy cheese out of the trash.
Abe and Kevin were stretched out over two of the vinyl benches in the waiting room at the guard station, while Tasha and I occupied opposite ends of the one remaining bench, Maalik sandwiched between us with the compact held out for us to see.
Ross had given Jenni and Asmodeus his office for the night while he was out on patrol with his unit, and they’d disappeared in there shortly after our return, closing the blinds so we couldn’t see them through the wide window behind the receptionist desk.
Ghost Market (Lana Harvey, Reapers Inc. Book 6) Page 14