Styx & Stoned (The Grim Reality Series Book 2)

by Brux, Boone

  Enough space cleared for me to reach Mara. Not waiting, I tossed the pole aside and clamped my hand around her wrist, bracing my knees against the wall. I threw myself backward. She lifted from the water, but grotesque white hands clawed at her, wrapping around her neck and threatening to drag her down again. My legs burned with the effort of holding steady.

  “Don’t let go, Lisa!” Mara’s face crested the edge of the ferry, real fear mirrored in her eyes. “Come on. Pull!”

  The fact that she was a demon and scared shook me to my core. My footing slipped and we both scream as she dropped into the water. Adrenaline surged through me. I would not lose her. With every ounce of strength I had, I heaved back and dragged her chest level. Her arm released the edge of the boat and clamped on to the low wall.

  I dropped to my knees, first wrapping one arm around her torso, and then released her wrist to grab her with both hands. She was soaked and my fingers slipped, loosening my hold. I jerked her against my body and locked my hands around my wrists. Dragging her out of the water was like trying to land a halibut. Unseen hands below the water yanked at her legs and it was all I could do to hold on.

  Inch by inch, I worked her over the ledge. Her waist had just cleared the wall when two pale bodies burst from the water and latched onto Mara’s thighs. I fell forward, my hips smashing against the edge of the wall. A jolt of fire spread across my hipbones and down my legs. If we got through this, I’d have some war wounds to show for my efforts.

  Lower and lower, they dragged her. My cheek pressed against her as I struggled to hold onto Mara. When my grip slipped, a panicked cry whimpered from her. I wouldn’t lose her. Determination, fear, and anger swelled inside me. My vision narrowed on my friend. A surge of power I’d only felt once before sparked through me, setting my skin on fire.

  I. Would. Not. Lose. Her.

  Ribbons of black vapor swirled around me. They extended and thickened, arching to the front of my body. Fear and desperation drained away. My only thought was saving Mara. When the sooty veil brushed across one of the arms holding tightly to her, blue-black fire burned across the marbled skin. Screams erupted from the creature and it released her, sinking back into Styx.

  I slowly rose, bringing Mara with me, burning away the remaining lost souls that held on to her legs. We stood, gazes locked, the black cloak inching around us. Ageless and dark, her soul called to me for release and I needed to reap her, because that’s what I was meant to do. She opened her mouth as if to speak but the words strangled in her throat. No more loneliness. Sweet oblivion.

  “Don’t.” The single word, spoken so quietly by Mara, snapped me out of my trance.

  Though I couldn’t look away from her, my mind screamed at me to let go. I would not reap her soul. Inch by inch, I forced my hands to loosen, and finally fall to my sides. The black garlands of vapor thinned and evaporated, releasing me from its hold. I took a step back, my breathing still shallow, but my thoughts a lot clearer.

  “Sorry.” I filled my lungs and slowly exhaled. “That happens sometimes with paranormal beings.” Actually, it had only occurred one other time when I was reaping the soul of a rather nasty vampire. She, however, did not get away. I propped my fists against my hips. “Whew.” A weak chuckled warbled out. “That was close.”

  “Yeah, it was.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what scared me more, thinking I was going to be dragged into abyss by a horde of groping spirit zombies, or getting reaped by you.” Wariness lingered in her gaze even though she didn’t move away from me. “You were seriously spooky with that black cloak stuff and eerie silver glowing eyes.”

  “My eyes were glowing?” Obviously, I’d never had a mirror handy when this paranormal phenomenon happened, so I had no idea that I transformed. “I thought it was just the black, vapory thing.”

  “No, they were shining like—” She hesitated, her eyes staring into the distance.

  “Like what?”

  “Sometimes Cam’s eyes do that.” When she looked at me, it was with an expression so filled with sadness a lump formed in my throat. “It’s a thing angels do with demons, showing us what being fallen has cost.” Her voice dropped to a whisper and broke when she added, “What we lost.”

  Fallen? I’d learned stories of fallen angels when I was a kid, especially Lucifer, but I’d never lumped Mara into that group. She didn’t fit the stereotypical evil I’d believed demons to be. Then again, a widowed mother of three bore no resemblance to Hollywood’s Angel of Death. Despite her demon label, Mara was my friend and I could see the regret she was battling. I’d also felt the desolation of her soul. So what could I say in the face of such epic loss?

  “We all have stuff, Mara. Things we did or should have done but didn’t. Things done to us that we had no control over. Regrets. Loss. Shame. I don’t know your story, but what I do know is that you do have a soul.”

  “No, I don’t, Lisa.” Her eyes bore into me. “I lost it the day I fell.”

  “No, you didn’t.” Seeing the conviction in her eyes, I stepped toward her and took hold of her hands. “That’s why I had that crazy reaper reaction. If you were an empty shell that wouldn’t have happened.” I inhaled, shaking my head. “I’ll admit, your soul is rather dark and desolate, but I think that’s because you have no hope.”

  Her fingers tightened on mine. “Hope about what?”

  “Hope that you’ll be forgiven. Hope that you deserve a second chance. But don’t you see, you’ve already got a second chance. You’re doing good work with GRS. They need you and your unique talents, and…” I gave her hands a shake. “You need them.”

  “I’ve always believed when I fell, I lost my soul.” Her grasp loosened and I let go of her hands. She turned and walked to the edge of the ferry, staring down river. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Well, believe it. I wouldn’t lie.” I leaned forward and grabbed a handful of wet shirt, tugging her backward. “And don’t make me save your life again just to prove it.”

  “Good point.” Holding out her arms, Mara looked down at her dripping clothes. “Damn it, those bastards tore my pants.”

  The seriousness of the moment passed and I was glad. The whole regrets, lost soul, realization thing was exhausting. “At least they didn’t get your boots.”

  “I would have dived back in for those.” She shook out her arms, flipping water everywhere. “You don’t mess with my shoes.”

  “The universal law.” I glanced behind us. The river had settled back to glassy calm, the only ripples stirred up from the ferry. Facing forward, I scanned the river ahead. Somehow, during the watery attack, I’d managed to keep the ferry moving forward. Not very fast, but enough to get us out of the danger zone. Maybe I did have a knack for this job. “How far until we get there?” It seemed like we’d been on the river for hours and I still didn’t know where there was. “And, are there any other hot spots I should be aware of?”

  “Not far, maybe another mile, and not that I can remember.” Water splattered against the deck when Mara twisted the bottom of her shirt. “Still, that doesn’t mean there aren’t other obstacles.”

  “All right, I’m going to the bridge to get a better view. I don’t want any more surprises.”

  “Good idea.” Mara circled her finger over her head. “I’m going to do a walk-around to make sure nothing got damaged.”

  “Don’t get too close to the edge,” I said, heading to the stairs.

  While she made the rounds, I took my place at the wheel and urged the ferry faster. A light breeze brushed across me, bringing with it the fresh scent of rain mixed with the sharp tang of sulfur. The only trees I’d seen reminded me of tortured souls, pleading for mercy, their dark barren branches twisting upward from gnarled trunks. No birds circled in the sky. This was the land of the dead, gray, and lifeless.

  Thankfully, the rest of the trip was uneventful. Nobody tried to kill us or destroy the ferry—not even an odd ripple broke the surface of Styx. At the final bend I guided the boat
around the curve and sighed with relief when I saw the long dock jutting from the point where the river split in two.

  About a hundred yards from the docking bay my mental control of the ferry faded. We glided forward, slowing until the upward curves of the pontoons bumped against a row of floating wooden barrels attached to the scaffolding of the dock, stopping us.

  The clanking of chains and creaking wood sounded behind the ferry, drawing us toward the noise. A plank walkway extended along the back, in essence blocking in the ferry. Unsure what to do next, I stopped beside the glass dome and waited for something else to happen.

  When nothing did, I glanced at Mara. “What are we supposed to do?”

  She crossed her arms and leaned against the bulkhead. “I have no idea.”

  “Halt!” The word echoed through the air, making me jump. I snapped to attention. Footsteps thundered against the creaking dock and a few seconds later a beefy-gladiator looking guy stomped along the walkway and stopped behind the ferry. A leather harness crisscrossed over his hulking shoulders, and what I could only describe as leather briefs, hugged his square hips. His head was bald, except for a top-knot ponytail, and he glared at us from black, deep-set eyes. “Who are you?”

  “Hey,” I plastered on a friendly smile, giving him a little wave. “I’m Lisa and this is Mara. We’re filling in for Charon.”

  If possible, his scowl deepened. He crossed his arms over his chest, causing his biceps to bulge, and settled into a wide-legged stance. “Where is he?”

  “In Vegas.” I made air quotes. “On vacation.”

  He harrumphed, stared for a few more seconds, and then straightened. “Get those souls off the boat.”

  “Uh-huh.” I nodded, as if I knew what I was talking about. “How?”

  “Normally, I do it for Charon.” I think he smiled but it looked like he was baring his fangs at me. “For a price.”

  “How much?” I’d left my purse in the hotel room but doubted I had enough, even with the extra six hundred dollars still remaining. Did they even use dollars in the netherworld?

  “A bag of gold.”

  “What are we talking here?” I held my hands a few inches apart. “Sandwich-bag size?”

  His smile turned upward on one side to a sneer. “Fifty pieces.”

  The saying you can’t take it with you didn’t seem to apply to afterlife employees. When I reaped vampire souls in northern Alaska I had to give Hal gold to transport them. I think now I was seeing the trickle-down effect.

  “We don’t have any gold,” I said. Nor did I know where I was going to get some. There was the big bowl of coins at the arch entrance but doubted I could take what I needed. That seemed too easy—and things were never easy. Still, I had no idea how to unseal the cabin doors and release the passengers. He started to turn away and I panicked. “But we’ll bring double on our next trip.”

  I could feel Mara’s gaze burning into me, but I didn’t look at her. If he agreed and opened the doors at least I’d know how. Getting the souls ferried was our first concern. I’d worry about paying him back later.

  “One hundred pieces of gold?” He asked. “On your next trip?”

  “Actually, it would be one hundred-and-fifty pieces, since we’d be bringing another load.” At this point, I didn’t want to screw things up by lying. I was already vulnerable enough in the netherworld, and adding a strike against me by cheating this behemoth wouldn’t help our situation. “One hundred for this trip and fifty for the next.”

  His expression dulled a little, as if doing the math in his head—or trying to. After several seconds he jabbed a meaty finger at me. “One hundred and fifty, not a single coin less.”

  “I promise.”

  A grunt vibrated from him before he tromped down the walkway and climbed a rickety ladder. Groans emanated from the scaffolding when he hauled himself onto the narrow ledge. He turned sideways and scooted along the foot-wide rise, rounded the corner, and stopped at an opening in the framework, directly in the front of the ferry between the angel and demon. Mara and I followed his progress. He knelt and picked up an iron pole resting at his feet and then stood again. Holding on to the scaffolding rail with one hand, he leaned forward, balancing the iron pole in the other, and fit it across the palms of the statues. I waited for the doors to open but nothing happened.

  Hulk—that’s what I’d mentally named him—reared back on the platform and then leapt, grabbing the pole with both hands.

  “What the—” My jaw went slack and I was, unable to finish my sentence.

  Like an agile gymnast, he lifted his knees and flipped upside down, locking his legs over the top of the bar. Every muscled across his back rippled. The harness pulled so tight against his skin I expected the straps to break. With sheer arm and abdominal strength, he pulled himself into a sitting position on top of the bar. He braced his hands on either side of his body and lifted his butt six inches off the bar before dropping onto it again.

  The sound of wood creaking groan from the statues. He lifted and dropped again. Metal scraping against metal screeched and then stopped. One last time Hulk fell on to the bar. The arms of the angel and demon slowly descended. When the bar reached waist-level it locked into place. He jumped onto the pontoon, taking the iron pole with him, and followed it all the way to the far end. From there he jumped back onto the dock and strode away. Like clockwork, the doors of the cabin slid open and the souls filed out in an orderly fashion.

  I spun toward Mara. “What kind of a crazy-ass process is that?”

  “Now we know why Charon pays him.”

  “Who the hell do they think I am, Nadia Comaneci? Even if I wanted to open the doors I couldn’t even lift the bar.” I lowered my voice. “Where are we going to get a hundred and fifty pieces of gold?”

  “From the toll dish at the arch?” She drummed her fingers against the glass. “Or Tabris. He’ll have to give us the gold if he wants us to ferry.”

  “Yeah, it’s a job expense.” That made the idea of commandeering the gold from the arch more palatable. “It’s not stealing.”

  “Right. We can’t do the job without it,” she said, backing me up like a good partner in crime should.

  When the last soul had disembarked, the arms of the statues cranked upward to their lifted position and the gangway slid back. As if by magic, the ferry drifted out of the slip and slowly spun in preparation for our return trip. At a hundred yards out, I took control of the ferry again and propelled us forward.

  “Come on.” I headed for the bridge. “I need a drink.”

  “Great idea,” Mara said.

  The return trip seemed to take a fraction of the time and was smooth sailing. Even over the abyss the river remained silent and still—not a single bump. Probably because we didn’t have any souls to steal. We poured a couple of beers and sprawled on the deck, leaning against the bridge wall.

  “Cheers.” I held up my cup. “To our first delivery.”

  Mara lifted her beer. “May the next cruise be as boring as hell.”

  We clicked the plastic rims and drank deeply to our success. Not only had we triumphed in the battle of the abyss, we hadn’t lost a single soul, including our own, and delivered them safely to their destination. We were awesome—truly amazing.

  I heaved a sigh. “Only several million souls to go.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Climbing the stone steps to the elevator made my legs burn worse than any Zumba class I’d ever taken. I latched onto the waistband of Mara’s pants, hoping she’d pull me up the stairs. We’d done two more trips with nothing worse than complaining passengers to deal with. Whatever can of reaper-demon-whoop-ass we opened on those white bastards of the abyss must have made an impression.

  And thankfully, we hadn’t been set upon by the hounds of Hell when we pilfered two hundred gold coins from the toll bowl. Next time I was bringing my wheelie carry-on. My plan was to fill it up and leave it on the ferry. When we got low, I’d just roll the suitcase to the arch
and replenish our supply. Preparation and organization were the keys to our success.

  “You two look tired.” Hal leaned against the frame of the elevator, arms crossed, decked out in gauzy light yellow pants and shirt, looking very fresh and rested. “But alive.”

  “That we are,” Mara said, stopping at the top and pulling me up. “Barely.”

  I shuffled past him and into the elevator. At the corner I turned and slid down the wall, drawing my knees to my chest to sit in a fetal position. This wasn’t a normal tired. My soul felt drained and my spirit depleted. Though I didn’t voice my worry, I wondered if a little bit of my life had been drained from me tonight—just like Katrina’s. “Home, Hal, before I pass out from exhaustion.”

  Mara joined me, squatting in the opposite corner. “I know I’m a badass demon and all, but dealing with thousands of chatty dead people nearly sucked the life right out of me.” Her head dropped onto her knee. “I’m not even joking.”

  “Then let’s get you home.” Hal stepped inside and closed the door. “So we can do this all again tomorrow night.”

  We both groaned, but I didn’t have the energy to lift my head to glare at him. I must have dozed off. It felt like I’d shut my eyes a few seconds ago and now Mara was pulling me to my feet.

  “Come on, Killer.” She guided and pushed me out of the elevator. “Thanks, Hal.”

  “Yeah, thanks, Hal.” I gave him a limp-armed wave. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Sleep tight, ladies.” Before the door slid closed he added, “I’m glad you survived.”

  The elevator compressed into a thin pink line and shrank to a tiny dot before vanishing. “Wow,” I said, “I think he likes us.”

  “That’s a good thing.” Mara’s hand hovered on the handle of my door. “We need him.” She pulled it open. “And we need to be at breakfast at eight o’clock. Don’t forget.”