"Persephone? She was here not long ago, asking for directions and accommodation. I can speak to a few people here to find out if she's still here. If you want her, I'll send her directly to you."
"That would be lovely," Mel ventured, wondering what had motivated his call, seeing as it wasn't Persi.
"Mel, I need your help here in Tokyo."
She was shocked by the desperation in his tone. "With what, Koyane? I'm sure Persi won't be much trouble."
"With…we're facing a nuclear war over the Liancourt Rocks. They're fighting over fish and it was acrimonious enough before North Korea sent a consultant in to assist with negotiations." Koyane paused and Mel waited for him to continue. "They sent Han Dong-Suk."
Patrick looked puzzled and Mel's thoughts weren't any clearer. "Mr Han has always been very cooperative in the past. Why is he suddenly a problem?"
"Because he wants to nuke the islands out of existence," Koyane said.
Patrick swore, drowning out Mel's less vociferous language.
She wet her lips. "When do you need me?"
"Yesterday," Koyane admitted.
Mel sighed. Tonight's karaoke had turned into farewell drinks with Patrick. "I'll make arrangements tonight. We'll try to find a flight that leaves London tomorrow, or as early as we can. It goes without saying: please do whatever you can to delay nuclear war until we get there."
"We? What are your accommodation requirements, Mere-san? One room for you and one for your staff? How many will you be bringing?"
Mel swallowed. "One room, two futons. We'll share."
"As you wish, Mere-san. I look forward to seeing you again."
"And I, you, Koyane." Mel ended the call.
Patrick shook his head. "You should be resting, not averting a nuclear holocaust."
Mel smiled. "Well, if there's a nuclear holocaust, the only place that'll be left to rest is Heaven, and I prefer to take my sabbaticals here on Earth, so I'd better make sure nothing blows up. Luce can come with me to take care of me." She rose. "I'd better get my laptop and book the flights. I'll pack in the morning when I've had some sleep."
Patrick followed her out to the living room. He nodded at Luce. "Do you want my help carrying him to bed?"
Mel shook her head. "No, he should be fine where he is. If you could find me a spare blanket for him, though, that'd be nice. I'll deal with his hangover." She knelt beside him and placed one hand on his forehead and the other over his liver. Concentrating, she broke down the alcohol in his blood into harmless molecules. She leaned over to kiss Luce's lips, but he didn't wake. Smiling, she covered him with the blanket Patrick had brought and stood.
"If you want, I'll take his place tonight so you don't feel lonely," Patrick offered, avoiding her eyes.
Mel crossed to his side and kissed his cheek. "It's a sweet thought, Patrick, but no. Luce might wake in the middle of the night and come join me. There isn't room for three of us in that bed. Thank you for everything you've done for us. I only wish we could stay longer, under more pleasant circumstances."
Luce squinted at the sunlight lancing through the round window over the stairs. He knew the hangover headache would be epic this morning – just as soon as he lifted his head – and it just wasn't worth it if he didn't wake up with a woman by his side. Where was Mel?
"Mel?" he croaked, then cleared his throat and tried again. "Mel?" Louder, but still raspy.
She stepped into view and knelt beside him. "Good morning, my love. How are you feeling?" Tingling fingers touched his head.
His heart swelled with love for his angel. "You're taking away my hangover? You're an angel, Mel."
She laughed. "Actually, I took care of that last night. Though if you've forgotten I'm an angel, I'm worried. You should go have a shower after how hot and sweaty you were last night. Your clothes are hanging on the back of the bathroom door. We'll eat breakfast on the way to the airport. Now, shower, please. I'll have your coffee ready when you get out."
Luce rolled off the sofa, wincing in anticipation of the brain-blasting headache he half expected, but it was only his bladder that felt like it was going to explode. He beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom.
He showered, shaved and slipped on the shirt he'd last worn on the day they flew into London and it hit him – had Mel said they were going to the airport? Who were they picking up? Persephone? He cracked open the door. "Mel?" he called. "Why are we going to the airport?"
She wheeled her suitcase past the door and stopped. "Because we're flying to Japan."
He racked his brain, but he couldn't remember any mention of a Japanese trip. What else had he agreed to last night? "Um, why?"
"I need to stop some islands from being blown off the map. And Persi's there."
The nephilim was blowing things up? Wonderful. "What do you need me for?"
Mel's wicked smile appeared. "Moral support."
"Does that mean sex on demand? And you'll be on top?"
"Not on your demand, my love. Please put some pants on. We need to go soon." Mel and the suitcase disappeared down the stairs.
"Is Patrick coming with us?" he called after her.
"No, we're taking the Tube to Heathrow, then flying out at lunchtime. He's staying here."
Just the two of them? Luce could handle that. He couldn't wait to introduce Mel to the pleasures Japan had to offer. Not to mention the whisky.
"Please take the utmost care of her. See if you can persuade her to rest in Heaven instead. I've never seen her as exhausted as she was this trip. Please." Patrick's words echoed in Luce's head, accompanied by the memory of the saint's desperation as he'd shaken Luce's hand in farewell.
If Patrick was so worried for her, shouldn't he be, too? The shadows beneath Mel's eyes betrayed her lack of sleep and her reactions seemed slower than usual, too. Not so anyone else would notice – but he did.
"Your boarding pass, sir," the air hostess said, holding out the slip.
Luce peered at the seat allocation. "Which one's the window seat and which one's the aisle?"
The hostess inclined her head to read the printed text. "Neither, sir. These are in the middle of the centre row."
Luce threw it down on the counter. "You mean we're in the middle of the centre row in economy class for an overnight flight? No. Not a hope in Hell. We fly business or first class or not at all."
"Luce, it's fine. I had to book at the last minute so there's not much left in terms of seating choice, that's all. It's only twelve hours – it'll be fine," Mel said softly, gathering up the offending boarding passes.
"No, it isn't. I'll be carrying you off the plane in Tokyo if we take these tickets." Luce turned to the hostess. "We need two seats in business class. Together. And she gets the window seat."
She looked frightened. "But business class costs more. You've only paid for economy…"
Luce yanked his platinum credit card out of his wallet. "Fix it, then."
"F-f-first class or business, sir?"
"Don't care as long as the two seats are together."
"Luce, I really don't need –" Mel began.
"You do. You absolutely do. I'm here to take care of you and that means a decent seat on the plane. A bed, even. The HELL Corporation can afford it. Are there two seats in first class?" Luce raised his eyebrows at the hostess.
"Yes, sir, but…" Fear seemed to have stolen her voice.
"Is there anything? Don't mind him. We were out late last night and neither of us has slept much as we didn't know we'd be flying today. I booked the tickets in the early hours of this morning and I'll be fine sitting wherever there's a seat on the plane. It's just urgent that we get there and I didn't really pay much attention to seats when I booked last night." Mel's sheepish smile seemed to set the girl at ease.
"Yes, ma'am, there are. In fact, there are only two first-class passengers on this flight. That means free upgrades are available and if no one else has upgraded yet…" She squinted at her screen, tapping at the keyboard with her manicured
nails. "No, none yet. That means I can upgrade you for free." She smiled shyly. "I hope you reach Tokyo in time." She printed the new boarding passes and placed Luce's credit card on top. "Enjoy your flight."
Luce tucked his wallet back into his pocket as he hurried after Mel. "How did you do that?"
"I just read people well, Luce. She was thinking about how she fell asleep at her grandfather's funeral because she took the cheapest airfares and couldn't sleep on the long flight the night before. She assumed we were going for a funeral or something equally heartbreaking. Right now, she's hoping we make it in time and that her first-class upgrade will help us and somehow make up for what she missed." Mel joined the long queue at the security gates.
"Ah, Mel, we don't line up with everyone else. First-class and business lounge customers are that way." Luce pointed at the near non-existent line beside the sign he'd just read aloud for her.
Mel shook her head as if to clear it. "Right. Sorry. I forgot." She dragged her feet after Luce.
He waited, then slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her to his side. Her exhaustion made her feel like she was sliding down to slump to the floor. Not if he could help it. "You're more tired than I am. You're just hiding it better. You should be flying home to rest, not heading into what sounds like a world of trouble. Mel, I need to know what's going on if I'm supposed to take care of you."
She lifted teary eyes to meet his gaze. "I can't ignore this, Luce, and I can't leave it to someone else. I don't know why it's come to this, either. When we reach Tokyo, believe me, I'll be looking for answers as much as you are. And if you could help me…" She exhaled slowly so that it sounded like a sigh. "That would be wonderful, Luce."
He laughed as he stepped through the body scanner. "It's only fair. I guess that makes me your personal assistant on this trip?"
Mel slipped her arm through his. "Very personal. I hope you don't mind sharing a room."
"Only if I get to sleep with you." He waited for her gentle remonstrance – he was definitely starting to like the way she said his name when she was embarrassed – but it never came. Too tired, he realised, pulling her close. He needed to take better care of her than ever.
Mel's step seemed lighter as she led the way through the blocky buildings and forbidding concrete walls. The dreary grey was occasionally broken by a frothy pink tree that looked completely out of place among the gloomy houses. None of them looked like the sort of place Mel should be staying. The Tokyo hotels he'd stayed at in the past were all high-rises, the likes of which he didn't see here. If she'd paid little attention to their flight arrangements, did that mean she'd booked accommodation in a rat-infested warehouse?
"Mel?" She stopped and turned to smile, so Luce continued, "Which hotel did you say we were staying at?"
She laughed merrily. "Oh, no, we're not staying in a hotel. The rooms are tiny. No, we're staying in my friend's house." She pointed at a grey, two-storey building that looked no different to any of the others. "That one." She almost skipped across the street as Luce trundled along behind her with the suitcases.
Mel waited for him to catch up before she rang the bell. An intercom crackled to life with a man's voice speaking in what Luce presumed was Japanese. He didn't understand Mel's answer, either, but he was relieved when the door swung open.
Mel stepped inside and gestured for him to do the same. He came to an abrupt halt when he realised the concrete floor ended in a hefty step covered in slippers. The Japanese man standing at the top wore a plain leather pair, but the ones beside him could have been mistaken for fluffy rodents.
"Take your shoes off, my love, then choose some slippers," Mel whispered, slipping her feet into what Luce swore looked like a pair of eviscerated guinea pigs.
Gingerly, he kicked off his shoes and scanned the selection for something suitable. They all looked so small. Finally, he spotted some that looked like they might be big enough, hidden under a pair made of flaming red silk. Feeling completely ridiculous, he followed Mel's gaze to the man he presumed was her friend and their host.
"Koyane-san, thank you for your hospitality. May I present Luce Iblis, the CEO of the HELL Corporation, who will be assisting me." She turned to Luce. "This is Koyane of the Hashmallim. He's been guarding the leaders of this place since…ooh, how many millennia has it been, Koyane?"
"Not as long as you, Murielle-sama, which shows in our present difficulties," Koyane replied with a bow. "Please, permit me to make you some tea?"
Mel agreed, and she and Luce followed Koyane to a room with a low, square table but no chairs.
"Please," Koyane said, gesturing at the table before he departed through a screen door.
"Um, Mel? What are we supposed to do?"
She stared at him. "I thought you'd been to Japan. I'm sure I remember you telling me about how you introduced Persi to Japanese whisky."
Luce didn't think he could feel more uncomfortable, but if anything, it was getting worse. "I stayed in a hotel and we ate at restaurants all the time. No houses or supermarkets or things that normal people who live here do. I was here on business, not on holiday."
"Were your business dealings successful?" Mel's eyes seemed to see into his soul. Hell, he knew they could.
"No. We didn't manage to secure a single contract in Japan," he admitted.
She smiled. "I might be able to help you with that, as long as you make it your business to learn about Japanese culture while we're here. Take the table." She waved at it. "We're supposed to kneel on the mats around it. Cushions are –" She slid open a cupboard and tossed a stack to Luce "– here. Koyane will bring tea and we'll talk."
Almost as if he'd been summoned by her words, Koyane slid the screen open and carried a tray filled with all the accoutrements for tea, without the traditional ceremony.
Mel's eyes widened in delight. "Ohh, sakura manju! I've missed those. This is bribery of the best kind. You're sweetening me up for bad news, aren't you?"
For the first time, Koyane smiled. "Mere-san, no one's sweeter than you."
An angel in every port. Koyane was Mel's Tokyo Patrick, Luce realised with dread. First nuclear war; now he'd have to fight for Mel's attention here, too. Hell, could it get any worse?
"How was London, Mere-san?" Koyane asked as he poured the tea.
"Fun, but also a waste of time," Mel said, looking longingly at the cakes. "We knew Persi had gone to Ireland, but the trail came to a dead end. Patrick tracked her to one of his favourite haunts and then she disappeared. But I did learn something useful – I discovered that Luce here is quite the karaoke king." She beamed at Luce.
"He's not a king, he's a dick. He's all show and seduction with no substance. He's not even all that good-looking. And he's wearing my brother's slippers."
Three pairs of eyes zeroed in on the doorway and a pouting Japanese girl dressed entirely in red to match her flaming hair.
"He tried to sell his shoddy company's services to the Japanese government so he could replace thousands of salaried Japanese people with his own imported workers. Now, no one in Japan's buying what he's selling." She sashayed into the room and knelt smoothly. "But this must be the beautiful Murielle-sama I've heard paeans of praise about. They fell woefully short of reality. I am honoured to finally meet you, Murielle-sama." She bowed so low, her forehead almost touched the mat.
Koyane coughed uncomfortably. "Ah, Keiko, this is Murielle-sama, and I believe you already know Luce Iblis? Keiko is caught up in this island business, too, so I asked her to join us. This is Keiko Taniwha."
Luce wasn't sure which of them hated the other more – the girl's vitriol made it clear she couldn't stand him, and he was rapidly making plans for her place in Hell after she was dead. Sooner rather than later, if he had any say in it.
"One of the Pacific people – the first I have met. The honour is mine, Keiko-san," Mel said, bowing. "I think you will find that Luce has changed much since you last met him. He is here at my invitation, because I desire his assistance."
Keiko burst into high-pitched giggles, reminding Luce painfully of Persephone. It seemed to have the same effect on Koyane, too.
"I was just about to tell Mere-san about her cousin Persephone's visit, so your timing is perfect, Keiko," Koyane said, sipping his tea. He set the cup down with a tiny clink. "Persephone arrived here just over a week ago. She came straight to me, asking for assistance in finding accommodation near Beppu as she was fascinated by the jigoku near there. She said she was investigating something for you, Mere-san, so I sent her to Homusubi, one of the present Dynameis in our region. He knows more about the jigoku than I ever will."
Luce raised his hand. "Can I have an interpreter, please? Not all of us speak Japanese."
Mel held up her hand in response. "How about me? Beppu is a city on the island of Kyushu to the south of here. Homusubi is one of the Dynameis. His speciality is volcanoes and vents and he's particularly proud of the jigoku, which roughly translates to hells. The jigoku are volcanic hot springs near Beppu. The colours are really quite beautiful, or so I have heard." She smiled. "Does that cover it, my love?"
Keiko snorted and started tapping her teeth with one ruby-tinted fingernail.
Luce nodded.
"Just let me know if you need the background on anything else," she whispered, then raised her voice again. "So she's in Beppu?"
"I don't know," Koyane admitted. "Since she left, I've heard nothing from her. I mentioned it to Keiko yesterday and she offered to make some enquiries. Can you offer Mere-san anything further, Keiko?"
Keiko shrugged. "Nothing. No one seems to have seen her since the day she arrived. Your friend Homusubi met her and answered a number of questions, but she never returned." She laughed. "Good riddance, I say. That girl is trouble. I'm surprised you'd trust her out on her own, Murielle-sama. She couldn't get a coffee from a vending machine, much less find any information of value to you. Maybe the kappa got her."
"Uh, kappa?" Luce interjected.
This time Keiko grinned. "A kappa is a scaly, colour-changing monster of myth that lives underwater in the region around Beppu. They like to prey on women. Actually, the kappa at Beppu is my grandfather on my mother's side, so I spoke to him, too. He said she was too skinny and whiny for his taste. And he prefers girls who wear underwear."
To Hell and Back (Mel Goes to Hell Series Book 4) Page 12