by HD Smith
I heard the faint sound of laughter, then a whistle.
Death was back.
I willed myself awake. My eyes opened. I was back in the library. I stood, spinning to face the door. The knob was turning. I didn’t have enough time to hide the book and the door, so I ran to the second floor doorway. With my presence I found the door symbol and closed it. I stayed on the stairs, remaining very still. I hoped Death couldn’t sense me.
I waited for him to enter.
“Claire,” he said, stepping into the room. He frowned, as if he was sure this was where I’d be. He looked around the room for a moment. The magic in the room shifted, the library I’d created with conch shells and seahorses changing. The walls became polished stone and the chairs turned to pillows on the floor. The lights held still in midair as if they were suspended fireflies. It was beautiful. He slashed his hand through the air, restoring the beach theme I’d created, then left.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
His library had been beautiful. Why wouldn’t he leave it? I put it out of my thoughts. I had to leave before he found me.
I checked the second floor for a portal out. I’d not had enough time to really explore, but there was no time now. With my presence I scanned the room. A cluster of glyphs ran along the back wall. An emerald green glyph, which looked like an Egyptian Hieroglyph, had the word “door” hovering over it in English.
I touched the glyph to open the portal. I opened my eyes, pulling back into my body, then stepped forward into the unknown.
Chapter 6
I took a deep breath, clutching the double shot macchiato as I sat outside the Starbucks in Underworld waiting. Underworld was the place between the realms and Earth, but wasn’t directly ruled by the big three.
Death’s portal had dropped me somewhere in Egypt. It took a bit of persuasion, but I was able to convince a druid I spotted on the street to direct me to the closest Underworld portal. No surprise, he wanted a payment, but I convinced him to sell the information to Johnny’s boys—an arm of the “police” in Underworld which should really be called the Druid Mob. I supposed someone had to be in charge of the day to day workings of a major city, but they were all corrupt. I hated druids, but this was the fastest way to get the Druid King’s attention. I’d told the druid to let the Mob know I’d be waiting at the Starbucks for them to arrive. So here I sat, waiting and hoping The Boss—or Death—didn’t find me first.
I wanted to contact Omar, but without my phone—the second best company perk, which had an address book with every contact number on the planet—I was SOL. Of course, had I taken the phone with me to Death’s Villa I would have had other options for leaving, but like the watch, I’d left it behind in my old apartment when I disappeared.
Ten minutes after I’d ordered my drink and found a seat, a lime-green convertible pulled to a screeching halt on the street in front of me.
Two of Johnny’s goons, a driver and his lackey, practically fell out of the car in their haste. I cocked an eyebrow at them as they approached.
As if on cue, Quaid materialized on the sidewalk outside the seating area.
“I’m here to see Harry,” I said to no one in particular, but everyone in the vicinity of my voice noticed.
Within five seconds every pedestrian and patron had vanished or walked away. The seating area and sidewalk were clear, leaving only the goons and Quaid.
“The Old Man’s been looking for you,” Quaid said, referring to The Boss. “You’re leaving with me.”
I arched my eyebrow at him. “They were here first,” I said, pointing at Johnny’s boys, “and if you think I’ll go anywhere with you, you’re crazy.”
Quaid—on the Old Man’s orders—had killed Jack. I’d never willingly go anywhere with him, and he knew it.
The goons looked a bit like deer in headlights as Quaid snarled at them. The driver had enough sense to place a call, while his lackey stared slack-jawed.
Quaid’s lips were pursed together—he was clearly annoyed. He pulled out his phone and started texting. I sipped my coffee, waiting for the real fun to begin.
A few seconds after Quaid sent his text I felt a slight tug against my core as if someone—presumably The Boss—was trying to magically transport me away from the Starbucks against my will. I smiled and winked at Quaid, who sighed and texted something else into his phone.
The magic of Death’s villa had worked a lot like physical teleportation. When the kitchen became the garden, it wasn’t really becoming the garden—I was physically relocating myself to the garden. Normally that type of movement took a lot of power, but Death’s villa was spelled to make local transports easy. Of course, this meant if I wanted to stay in one place I had to know how to hold on—at least that was how I thought of it. It had apparently become somewhat second nature over the last couple of months, because I hadn’t realized I was locking myself to the Starbucks seating area until Quaid tried to move me. He’d find it impossible now that I knew he was trying to transport me. I’d have to let go first, and I had no intention of doing that.
“I’m here to see Harry, not Conrad.” I said to Quaid, using The Boss’s human name.
His lip curled up, as if amused. He ignored me and kept typing.
I caught the eye of the driver. I didn’t want to deal with Johnny. I wanted him going straight to the top, which I was fairly sure I’d made clear already. To avoid confusion, I said, “Harry, not Johnny.”
Johnny, the Mob boss, could get an update from his lackeys later. I had no desire to deal with his posturing, and if The Boss showed, he’d be out of his depths anyway.
The driver glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then gave me an almost imperceptible nod. Maybe he wasn’t planning to tell Johnny at all, or he didn’t want anyone to think he was taking orders from me. I didn’t care, as long as he got Harry here.
Within minutes, both Harry and The Boss were on the sidewalk in front of me. Harry jerked his head to the side, motioning for the goons to leave. They jumped back into their car—relieved I think at not having to go one on one with Quaid. Their tires squealed as they sped away.
“I didn’t call for you,” I said to The Boss. “I want to talk to Harry—alone.”
“Well, you have us both here now. I think I’ll stay,” The Boss said, sliding a chair out and sitting down.
With the snap of his fingers, a coffee materialized on the table in front of him. I looked at Harry, who sat in the other chair, arms crossed over his chest.
Sighing, I finally said, “Have either of you ever heard of the Name Caller?”
If I didn’t know better, I would have said the name meant nothing to the two men in front of me. They gave no perceptible indication of recognition, but that was exactly the problem. They didn’t move at all. For three beats they just sat there immobile, expressionless, and so still they could have been wax reproductions, not living breathing beings of enormous power.
“Who is she?” I asked, breaking the silence.
“No one,” Harry said, just as The Boss said, “She’s dead.”
“I suppose you’ve never heard of the Death Seeker or The Wanderer, either?”
Harry narrowed his eyes. “Where have you heard these names?”
I paused for a beat before saying, “Merryman told me.”
I wasn’t going to mention Omar. I didn’t want them to know about the book of prophecy, or that I suspected Omar of being the one that told me anything. If Merryman wasn’t real, there would be no one to find or blame. If he was and he wasn’t really Omar, then he should have used a fake name.
Before they responded, I added, “I’ve also seen a few paintings that depict a very interesting future. One titled ‘Fallen Queen’ was particularly intriguing.”
Harry and The Boss glanced at each other, just as a voice I’d hoped to never hear again spoke.
“Having a party without me, brothers? Not very nice.”
Mab’s voice sent a chill d
own my spine. I turned to her, just as she walked past Quaid, giving him a playful wink.
Quaid visibly paled. I was sure he was remembering the alone time he’d had with Mab last spring. She’d worked him over pretty good, and only his status as The Boss’s untouchable saved him from any real damage.
“Sister,” Harry said, “what brings you to town?”
A wicked sneer crossed her face as she pulled out the chair across from me. “A little bird told me our Claire had finally returned. I was shocked to hear she’d been missing, of course, and I wanted to welcome her home.”
I rolled my eyes. Mab’s light, airy voice held no sincerity. My lips turned up in an almost smile when I saw The Boss make a similar gesture.
Mab looked at Quaid. Waving her hand in a dismissive manner, she said, “Shoo, the grown-ups need to talk.”
The Boss looked over at Quaid, who nodded then disappeared.
I felt a tug at my core. Someone was trying to magically transport me away from Starbucks, again. I held tight to the power that locked me to this spot. It wasn’t an easy thing to do to teleport another person—and almost impossible if that person had any ability to fight the move. It took immense power to accomplish, more than most had, and generally was not worth the energy. This meant it was one of the big three. I raised an eyebrow to Mab, assuming she was the one attempting to move me this time, as I’m sure The Boss, texting with Quaid earlier, had already failed and most likely wouldn’t try again.
She smiled, a coy grin on her face. “Our little girl is growing up,” she cooed.
“Fuck you, bitch,” I said.
Her lips pursed together and her eyes narrowed on me. “Watch your tongue, child, or I’ll take it out and watch it for you.”
“What do you want, Sister?” The Boss asked, interrupting our cold staring match.
She chuckled. “Brother, you have not been keeping an eye on Claire. She’s been God knows where for months. I think you should put her in my care.”
“She hasn’t broken any of the rules,” Harry stated flatly. “You have no claim.”
“You’d have to know where she’s been, brother, to know if that were true,” she retorted. “I have a witness that places her in Purgatory two weeks ago.”
I barked out a laugh, then realized she might not be lying. Fucking time travel. Last spring when I’d inadvertently travelled to Purgatory and gained three days of time back, I’d been in two places at one time. If something like that happened again, it was possible that two weeks ago I was in Purgatory. The inconsistencies with time had something to do with Jayne’s actions long ago. It made travel between the realms dangerous, especially from Earth. Underworld portals were more stable, especially for humans—and I’d mostly been human at the time. Since then I’d gained back my powers, but I had no clue what category of otherworldly I belonged in. My mother, Melinda, was human, but the prophecy stated I’d be born to a human with otherworldly lineage. I still wasn’t sure what it all meant, but long story short, I had no clue who my biological parents were. I could be half demon, druid, or pagan.
The Boss loved my mother, but none of the big three considered me their child—thank God!
My grin didn’t waver. If time travel was a part of this, then it hadn’t happened yet. I couldn’t worry about that now, and I wasn’t going to take this shit from Mab. “She’s lying.”
Harry’s lips were pressed together in a hard line as if he didn’t believe me. The Boss just seemed disinterested, but that could be for Mab’s benefit, not how he actual felt. Of course, anything he did for me was tied to how he felt about my mother. He couldn’t give a rat’s ass, personally.
“She wasn’t in Purgatory,” Death’s voice said from behind me.
I straightened, trying not to appear frightened. I hadn’t expected him to blow his cover and come find me—not once the others were here—but here he was.
The royals briefly glanced up, then looked away, disgusted. The curse on Death’s beauty was made to affect them as well. As the story goes, he was forced to kill Jayne as punishment for siding with her during the war. When he did she saw only his hideousness, and probably never knew he was the one that killed her. I felt the warmth of Death’s touch cover me as he placed his hand on my shoulder. He squeezed it a bit harder than I thought necessary. He was pissed, but I was tired of being a puppet; his villa had served its purpose, but I’d had more freedom as the Devil’s assistant.
“I vouch for her,” he said.
“Your word means nothing,” Mab spat, keeping her eyes averted.
“Perhaps,” Death chuckled, “but you won’t take her with lies. I won’t allow it.”
“You risk punishment by coming here,” Harry spoke, but didn’t raise his eyes.
“No,” I said, “you won’t touch him.” I wasn’t happy with Death’s form of heavy-handed protection, but I didn’t want him hurt.
“You can prevent his punishment,” The Boss said, as if it was a forgone conclusion that Death would be reprimanded.
I turned my eyes to The Boss. “Why should he be punished? It was my choice to leave.” I couldn’t let Death take the fall for my actions. He’d helped me in the beginning. I wouldn’t let him be punished for that.
The Boss raised one of his perfectly groomed eyebrows. In an even, cold, uncaring tone he said, “I knew he had you. I’ve been generous to give you the time you needed to grieve. Now, had you returned on your own…” He trailed off as if implying my actions were directly responsible for Death’s situation.
I snorted. “What do you call this?” I asked, bluffing. I had no plans to return to him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t fooled.
“A day trip to see Harry.” The Boss smiled, throwing my words back at me.
I pursed my lips, holding back a curse. I’d needed time away. Quaid had killed Jack on The Boss’s orders, which didn’t make me very happy with either of them. I’d discovered Jack was a demon, but I loved him anyway and he wanted me. There was a diamond ring in the sock drawer of my old apartment that proved it. The assignment of being my lover may have started out as just another job for Jack, but in the end he loved me, and died because of it. Yeah, I’d taken time to grieve. I would never forget him, but that part of my life was over now.
The Boss continued. “Now it’s time for you to return. I’ll expect you back in the office on Saturday, or Death and I will finish what we started long ago.”
The Boss turned his head, looking directly at Death. I heard choking sounds as Death’s hand fell away from my shoulder.
“Stop it,” I yelled.
“Don’t worry Claire. He’s just being retired,” The Boss said, using the word his company HR team used when an employee’s contract was being terminated—true death. “He can’t keep the position if he isn’t able to do the job—he’ll be replaced.”
Death continued to gasp and wheeze. “Stop it,” I pleaded. “Let him go and I’ll come back.”
“No, Claire,” Death forced out, but I wouldn’t let him die for helping me.
The Boss’s stare intensified, his lips turned up in a smug grin. He was going to kill him.
“Stop it,” I screamed. “Or you’ll never see me again.”
The threat was hollow; it wasn’t like I could hide from the Demon King on my own.
I felt a burn build at my core. I was tired of everyone trying to manipulate me. I stood, pushing the chair back. White wisps of power tingled at my wrists, drawing energy from my own power. I touched Death’s shoulder, allowing The Boss’s spell to affect us both.
An overwhelming suffocation enveloped me. I couldn’t breathe. I searched the landscape of geodes in my mind. Finding the glowing geode for The Boss’s spell—a sickly yellow—I located its other half. With a mental push I slammed both halves together, sealing the spell within. The choking feeling of suffocation started to lift. A small static charge passed between me and Death. He sucked in a lungful of air, finally able to breathe.
After regaining my powers la
st spring I discovered the ability to null spells. In many cases, a spell cast on me directly was automatically reversed. Once reversed I had the ability to cure others. While the auto reversal was quick and easy, it sometimes needed to be controlled. I did this by mentally imagining the spells within as geodes—hollow rocks which hid colorful crystals inside. Open geodes were active when glowing. The reversed spells were contained—or locked—in a closed geode. It didn’t work for all magic used against me, though; it wasn’t like I could deflect someone’s will from knocking me over—that was a physical force of magic, not a spell. The Boss’s spell had been intended for Death. Had he cast it directly on me, my power to null would have reversed it automatically. The end result was the same. I’d trapped the spell and cured Death. Now if only I could throw my will at them—go on the attack—but using will was beyond me, as I had no clue how to wield it.
The Boss made a motion with his hand, as if he’d decided to end the torment himself. I glared at him, unsure if he realized what I’d done.
“I agreed,” I wheezed, still trying to regain my breath. “Now let him go.”
“You’re still blocking me,” he said. “Release your hold and allow me to transport you. Then I’ll let him go.”
“No,” Death said, “don’t let them take you.”
I turned to him. His brows were drawn together. He caressed my face, sending me a wave of calming bliss, reminding me of what we had together. But I couldn’t go back to the way things were with him. I wasn’t mad anymore, but he loved Jayne, not me. I grabbed the back of his head, pulling him in for a final kiss. Mab made a gagging sound.
“Go,” I said. “Don’t come back for me.”
I turned back to the others. Harry just stood there. He was going to let The Boss have me—again. I’d come here to ask him about the Name Caller, but nothing was ever that simple. I dropped my hold on this place. I felt a sharp tug at my core. A second later, I was dropped on the floor of my old apartment in Midtown.