1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Five

by Julie Kenner

  Chapter Four

  It had been three days since Cat had opened the portal from the human realm and allowed souls into the Inner Sanctum, and as far as she knew, nothing catastrophic had happened. Maybe no one had noticed. After all, there were millions of souls imprisoned in Sheoul-gra. So what if a handful had slipped through without Azagoth’s stamp of approval?

  Rationalizing the whole thing didn’t make her feel a lot better, so she took out her frustration on the floor of the Great-Hall-slash-Hall-of-Souls at the entrance to Azagoth’s mansion. Why the hell did she have to polish the obsidian stone by hand, anyway? Did Azagoth not believe in buffing machines?

  Okay, in all fairness, he’d never told her to clean the floor. The big jobs, like landscaping outside and maintaining the floors inside, had been assigned to the dozens of Unfallen who, like Cat, had come to live in the safety Sheoul-gra provided to those caught in the gap between Heavenly angel and True Fallen. But footprints on the floor drove Cat nuts, and today, some jackass had tracked in dirt and grass, completely ignoring the new mat she’d placed at the entrance that said, in bold red letters, WIPE YOUR DAMNED FEET.

  She thought the play on “damned” was funny, given that almost everyone who came to Sheoul-gra was some sort of demon. Hades had gotten the joke, had laughed when he saw it. She still smiled when she thought about it.

  She shot a fleeting glance over at the statue of Seth, which still hadn’t been repaired, but at least the two body parts were missing. Maybe Hades was trying to fix them. Hopefully, he was trying to fix them.

  A tingle of awareness signaled the arrival of a newcomer into the realm – it was kind of cool how anyone who resided in Sheoul-gra developed a sensitivity to the presence of outsiders. It was usually Zhubaal’s job to meet visitors, but he was busy, so she leaped to her feet.

  Happy to toss her cleaning supplies aside for a few minutes and always curious about who was paying a visit, she hoofed it out of Azagoth’s mansion to the great courtyard out front, where the portal from outside was glowing within its stone circle.

  And there, striding toward her, was a magnificent male with a full head of blond, shoulder-length hair and a regal stance that could only mean he was a higher order of angel. As a lowly Seraphim, she’d rarely seen angels ranking higher than a Throne, but there was no doubt that this male was at the very top. Perhaps even a Principality, one rank below an archangel.

  “E-excuse me, sire,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “Can I help you?”

  The big male nodded, his blond mane brushing against the rich sapphire blue shirt that matched his eyes. “I will see Azagoth.”

  “I’m sorry, but he’s busy––”

  “Now.”

  Mouth. Dry. A lifetime of fear of higher angels made her insides quiver, even as she realized that Heavenly angels held no power here. Inhaling deeply, she reached for calm. As a fallen angel in Azagoth’s employ, she was actually more influential in Sheoul-gra than this new guy was.

  Somehow, that thought didn’t make her feel any better.

  “This is not your realm, angel,” she said sternly. “You can’t just poof in here and demand an audience with Azagoth.”

  “Is that so.” The male’s voice was calm. Deadly calm. Scarily calm.

  “Yes. That is so.” She was proud of the way her voice didn’t quake. Not much, anyway.

  A slow smile curved the male’s lips, and if it hadn’t been so terrifying, it would have been beautiful. “I don’t want to cause trouble for you, Cataclysm. So either fetch him or take me to him. Those are your only choices.”

  “Or?” she asked, and how the hell did he know her name?

  Suddenly, the air went still and thick, and massive gold wings sprung from his back, spreading like liquid sunshine far above them both. “Guess.”

  Holy...fuck. He was...he was...a Radiant. An angel who outranked even archangels. And since there could be only one Radiant in existence at any given time, that meant that this was Reaver, brother to Revenant, the King of Hell. That alone would have been enough to terrify her, but making things worse, much worse, was the fact that she had lost her wings because she’d been in league with an angel who had not only betrayed him, but who had attempted to kill his infant grandchild.

  Cat’s knees gave out, but before she hit the ground, Reaver caught her, landing her on her feet with one arm around her to hold her steady. Instantly, her skin became charged with his Heavenly energy, the magnitude of it rendering her almost breathless.

  It was too intense, scattering her thoughts in a way that touching Hades hadn’t. As an angel, she’d touched other angels, but it had never been like this. As a fallen angel, she’d had skin-to-skin contact with Lilliana, and while the female had given off a slight positive energy buzz, it hadn’t been anything like what she was experiencing with Reaver.

  Maybe the fact that she was a fallen angel had made the sensation of goodness too overwhelming for her. Or maybe the intensity had to do with the fact that Reaver was a Radiant. Whatever it was, it made her want to throw up, the way eating too much of a rich food did.

  “You okay?” he asked, his voice low and soothing.

  She couldn’t say a word. But her inability to speak was more than just her reaction to his touch. He was a rock star in the angel world. Beyond a rock star. He was...the rock star. The angel.

  And she’d nearly destroyed his family.

  “What the fuck?” Azagoth’s voice rang out from somewhere behind her. Dazed, she turned her head to see him walking toward them, his gaze boring into Reaver. “You know that when a high-ranking angel steps foot into my realm, I feel it, right? Like, migraine feel it.”

  Legs wobbly, she stepped away from Reaver. “Sir––”

  A wave of Azagoth’s hand silenced her. “I’ve got this. Reaver is a friend.”

  “Friend?” Reaver asked, incredulous. “May I remind you that you ordered Hades to hold me in the belly of a giant demon, where I was slowly digested for centuries?”

  Cat couldn’t believe it when Azagoth rolled his eyes. He wasn’t usually so casual with Heavenly angels. But then, Reaver had sent gifts for him and Lilliana. “It was three puny months.”

  “Yeah, well, it felt like centuries,” Reaver muttered.

  “Good.” Now that was more like Azagoth. “Are you here to see Lilliana?”

  Reaver shook his head. “Unfortunately, I’m here to see you. There’s a soul in Sheoul-gra I need to be released.”

  “Demon?”

  “Human.”

  Azagoth cocked a dark eyebrow. “Really. And why should I do that?”

  “Because he shouldn’t be there. Your griminions took him before his soul could cross over.”

  “Even if they’d made that mistake, I’d have caught it,” Azagoth said, and a knot formed in Cat’s stomach.

  “You missed this one.”

  “Impossible.”

  A bird chirped in the distance, its cheery song so out of place in the growing tension surrounding Azagoth and Reaver. Cat couldn’t help but think that the old, lifeless Sheoul-gra might have been a better setting for the confrontation happening right now between these two powerful males.

  Reaver stared at Azagoth, his expression darkening with anger. “Seriously? You think Heaven would make that kind of error?”

  “You think I would?” Azagoth shot back. “In thousands of years, have I ever allowed a non-evil human soul into Sheoul-gra?”

  Oh, no. The knot in Cat’s belly grew larger as her little incident three days ago filled her thoughts.

  “Mistakes happen.”

  As Azagoth growled, Cat started to sweat. She was responsible for the innocent soul being sent into the holding tank. It was the only explanation.

  “I don’t make mistakes.” Azagoth spoke through teeth clenched so hard that Cat swore she heard one or two crack.

  “Then someone else did,” Reaver said. “I don’t give a shit who’s at fault. What I do give a shit about is the fact that there�
�s a human soul in the Inner Sanctum who doesn’t belong there, and we want him back before he’s harmed or someone realizes he’s not evil and they use him to break out of Sheoul-gra.”

  “Um...excuse me,” Cat interrupted. “But this person you’re talking about...he’s a soul, not a physical being, at least not on Earth or in Sheoul, so how could he be used to help demons escape?”

  “Here, as in Heaven, his soul is solid,” Reaver said. “A soul-eating demon could absorb him, or his soul could be harvested and liquefied to use in spells.” As the horror of what could be happening to an innocent human sunk in, Reaver turned back to Azagoth. “You fucked up big time.”

  Azagoth snorted. “Bite me.”

  “You have one week.”

  “And I repeat––”

  “Reaver!” Lilliana’s voice rang out, and a moment later, she flung herself into his arms. “It’s so good to see you.”

  They started to chat, giving Cat time to slink away. Holy shit, what had she done? Azagoth had given her a purpose, a home, and safety, and she’d just gotten him into some serious hot water with Heaven.

  And that poor human. She’d seen firsthand how traumatic dying could be for humans. Even in Heaven it sometimes took them months to adjust, especially if their deaths were violent or sudden. But to die and then find yourself trapped in hell with no idea why or what you’d done to deserve it?

  She shuddered as she shuffled along the stone path toward Azagoth’s palace. She had to fix this, but how? Maybe she could find the human herself. Her ability to differentiate between human and demon souls from great distances would be an advantage for her, so maybe, just maybe, she could fix this quickly. If she could get in and out of the Inner Sanctum before anyone noticed she was gone, surely Azagoth would forgive her. It was even possible that the archangels would consider the rescue a good enough deed to allow her back in Heaven.

  No one noticed her moving away from the group, so she took the steps two at a time and hurried through the massive doors. The moment she was away from prying eyes, she could no longer maintain her cool composure. She sprinted into action, running so fast through the corridors that she skidded around one corner and nearly collided with the wall on her way to Azagoth’s office.

  As expected, the office was empty. Terrified, but hopeful that what she was about to do would right a lot of wrongs, she hurried to the lever she’d accidentally opened, the one that had started this whole mess.

  Next to the lever that opened the soul tunnel was a switch she’d seen Azagoth and Hades use to gain access to the Inner Sanctum. When she flipped it, a section of the wall faded out, allowing a view of a dark, shadowy graveyard set amongst blackened, leafless trees on the other side.

  For a moment, she hesitated. In Heaven, she’d always been the first of her brothers and sisters to take risks, to step into the unknown. But none of them had ever faced anything like this. To them, taking risks meant speaking up at meetings or chasing a demon into a Harrowgate.

  Her two brothers and two sisters would shit themselves if they ever stood where Cat was right now.

  The thought gave her a measure of comfort and even made her smile a little. So, before she changed her mind, she took a deep, bracing breath, and stepped through the portal. Instantly, heat so thick and damp she could barely breathe engulfed her. Each breath of fetid air made her gag. The place smelled like rotting corpses. And the sounds...gods, it was as if people in the graves were moaning and clawing at their coffins.

  Why would anyone be in the coffins?

  Fear welled up, a suffocating sensation that seemed to squeeze her entire body. This was a mistake. A horrible mistake. She had to go back. Had to confess what she’d done to Azagoth. Panicked, she spun around so fast she nearly threw herself off balance.

  Hurry, her mind screamed. Then it froze mid-scream.

  The portal was gone.

  Frantic, she searched the wall for a lever of some sort. Or a button. Or a freaking spell that would allow her to use a damned magic word.

  “Open sesame?” she croaked.

  Nothing.

  “Let me out.”

  Nada.

  She pounded on the wall where the door had been. “Open the damned portal!”

  The sounds coming from the graves grew louder, and her throat clogged with terror.

  She was trapped.

  Chapter Five

  Cat spent what seemed like forever trying to find a way back to Azagoth’s realm, but the solid wall, which reached upward into a pitch-black sky as far as the eye could see, was apparently endless. So was the graveyard. Why was there a graveyard here, anyway?

  Even stranger, the headstones, all different sizes, shapes, and materials, were unmarked. At least, they weren’t marked with names or dates. Some had been carved with what appeared to be graffiti, and others were scarred by writing, mainly in the universal demon language, Sheoulic. Several were warnings to not enter any of the five mausoleums that seemed to be randomly placed around the sprawling cemetery.

  Unfortunately, she’d heard enough about the Inner Sanctum to know that the mausoleums were the gateways to the five levels, or Rings, as they were officially called, that housed the demons Hades watched over. She had to enter. But which one? None were marked in any way that would indicate which Ring they led to. Was she supposed to just choose randomly and hope she’d picked the right one? Ugh. Yet another reason she wanted to go back to Heaven. There, everything was clearly marked.

  She eyed the five mausoleums and finally decided on the closest one. Before she entered though, she found a heavy piece of wood she could use as a club if needed. When she’d lost her wings, she’d lost all innate defensive weapons, but they wouldn’t have done her any good down here, anyway.

  She really should have thought this out a little better.

  Your impulsiveness is going to get you in trouble someday.

  Her mother’s words rang in her ears, and so did her siblings’ echoes of, “Told you so,” uttered just before her wings had been sliced off.

  Cat stared at the mausoleum’s iron grate door. Apparently, not even losing her wings had taught her a lesson.

  Cursing herself—and throwing in some choice words for her siblings—she pushed open the door, cringing at the rusty creaking noise that made the things in the graves screech. The inside was dark and dusty, but anything was better than the foul dampness of the graveyard. It was also smaller than it appeared to be from the outside, about the size of a phone booth.

  The door slammed shut behind her, and she nearly screamed at the clank of the metal hitting the stone. An instant later, it swung open by itself, and she stepped out into a featureless, sandy desert. There was nothing but pale yellow sand and gray sky. Nothing moved. There was no breeze, no sound, no smell...what the hell was this place?

  Okay, this might have been a mistake. She spun around to go back to the graveyard and a different mausoleum, but like earlier when she first left Azagoth’s library, she found nothing but empty air where the doorway should have been. Panic rose up, but before she could form a coherent thought, she heard a noise behind her. A chill shot up her spine as she slowly turned.

  Heart pounding, fingers digging into the wood club, she squinted into the distance, and that’s when she saw it—a shimmer in the air that slowly solidified into a number of blurry shapes. And then the shapes took form, and her heart slammed to a sudden, painful stop at the blast of evil that struck her.

  At least fifty demons of several different species formed a semicircle around her, a wall of fangs, claws, and crude, handmade weapons. The crowd parted to allow one of them, a seven-foot tall, eyeless thing with tiny, sharp teeth and maggot-colored skin, to come forward. In his slender, clawed hand, he held a chain, and on the other end of that chain, crawling on all fours like a dog, was a human male, his hair matted with blood, his skin bruised and bleeding, one ear missing.

  This was the very human she’d come for. Relief quickly gave way to guilt and horror at what ha
d been done to him. And at what might still be done to him. To both of them.

  “Aren’t you a tasty thing,” the maggot demon slurred, his voice mushy and sifted through sharp teeth.

  Terror, unlike anything she’d ever experienced, clogged her throat. Oh, she’d been afraid before, plenty of times. But this was different. She’d never faced so many demons, and she’d certainly never done it while holding only a stick of wood as a weapon.

  Raising her club, she found her voice, shaky and squeaky as it was. “Demon, I am a fallen angel on a mission from Azagoth himself,” she lied. “You are to hand over the human immediately.”

  Maggot-man laughed. “Foolish kunsac.” Her Sheoulic was rusty, but she was pretty sure he’d just called her a rather nasty slang term for a demon’s anus. “You bluff. And you will die.” He grinned, flashing those horrid teeth at her. “But not before we get what we want from you.”

  Another demon stepped forward and made a sweeping gesture toward the others. “What we all want from you.”

  What they wanted from her? How had they even found her?

  They came at her in a rush. She swung her club, catching one in the jaw hard enough to knock a few teeth out, but as she swung again, something struck her in the head. She tasted blood and heard a scream, but only later did she realize that the scream was hers.

  * * * *

  “My lord.”

  Inside one of the hundreds of tiny cells in the Rot’s lowest dungeon levels, Hades turned away from the broken body of one of the two demons he’d captured three days ago. Silth, the fallen angel commander in charge of the 5th Ring, stood in the doorway. “Tell me you’ve located the rest of the insurgents.”

  Silth inclined his blond head in a brief nod. “Yes, but––”

  “I trust you’ve dumped them into the Rot’s acid pit?” That was one of Hades’s favorite punishments. The demons would splash around as their bodies were dissolved slowly and painfully, until only their souls remained.

  That was when things got fun. Exposed souls were delicate, and the acid was even more agonizing on their raw, tender forms. The demons would take another physical body, and then the acid went right back to work, starting the cycle again. It usually didn’t take more than a few days before the bastards started talking.