I began up the stairs, ready to change into fresh clothes, but Bub’s melodic voice changed my direction.
“My love, my dark temptress of the night,” he called from the patio, beyond the open French doors. “Come see me.”
I stepped outside, taking in the half acre of freshly tilled earth that was our backyard and Saul and Coreen beyond that, two black dots racing across the horizon. Bub stood in front of an open gas grill, a white apron fastened around his neck and waist. He prodded a steak with a barbecue fork and flipped it over.
“That smells good,” I said, coming up on my toes to kiss his cheek. I ran my fingers through his hair and returned the grin he gave me.
“I’ve already pulled the kabobs,” he said. “And there’s a bowl of salad in the refrigerator. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving.” My stomach flip-flopped in anticipation, and I was reminded of my awful day.
Bub’s brow creased as my smile waned. “I noticed you skipped lunch,” he admitted, not even the least bit ashamed of his snooping.
“Jenni has a new secretary who botched my schedule.” I sighed and turned my gaze to the upturned desert. “The landscapers reschedule again?”
Bub grumbled under his breath before answering. “They’ll be here tomorrow. I’ve called the satyr who bid the job and told him that if his crew didn’t show this time, I’d be hiring someone else to complete the project.”
The garden was the last piece of the puzzle. It was also one thing I had steered clear of. The only reason my thumb ever turned green was if I had it knuckle deep in a hellcat’s eye socket. Besides, Bub needed something to keep him occupied now that he was essentially retired. Something other than spying on me, that is.
“I’m going to change before dinner,” I said, leaning in for another kiss. He turned this time and caught my lips with his, moaning a sensual note deep in his throat.
“Hurry back. I missed you today.” His bottom lip pouted out and I couldn’t help but kiss him again. Maybe I wouldn’t cancel that retirement plan just yet.
I slipped inside and took the stairs up to our bedroom two at a time. As I shimmied out of my jeans and sweater and into a pair of clean shorts and a lighter blouse, I noticed that the bed had been made. It wasn’t the hotel pro job that Jack was known for, but I was impressed. If I had the kind of time to kill that Bub did, I was sure it would be spent binge watching John Wayne movies. Or snacking, I thought as my stomach growled again.
When I returned outside, Bub had the patio table set and our plates loaded with steak and roasted vegetables. He’d discarded the apron and looked rather edible in a pair of board shorts and a buttoned-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. We traded admiring glances as I filled a pair of wine glasses and he fixed our salads. A chandelier of jar candles hung from the pergola overhead, glowing brightly against the darkening sky and pulling the romantic scene together nicely. It was pretty clear I’d be getting lucky tonight.
Saul and Coreen lapped from a metal water bowl at the other end of the patio. Matching bowls of Cerberus Chow waited for them. The steak bones would keep them busy for a while after dinner, giving us enough time to enjoy each other before our bed was invaded.
Bub pulled out my chair. “I want to hear all about your day,” he said as I sat down. He scooted the chair forward, tucking my legs under the table, and then circled around to his side and sat down across from me.
I smirked and took a sip of my wine. “You mean you haven’t already?”
He actually blushed this time. “I’ll have you know that my foot soldiers don’t follow you everywhere,” he said, shaking out his napkin and folding it across his lap. “I never send them into the Reapers Inc. building—Holly would undoubtedly notice—and they don’t even tag along to the mortal side most of the time.”
“Most of the time?” I scoffed and raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure that’s not for lack of trying.”
Bub reached across the table to take my hand. “You know I’m just trying to be helpful. The rebels are lying low. They didn’t disappear. I want to be there should they decide to rear their ugly heads again.”
I nodded and rolled my eyes as I took another drink of wine. It was a tired conversation that we’d had enough times, and I wasn’t so bothered by his protective detail that I felt like drudging through the whys of it again tonight. I was more interested in the bleeding steak on my plate.
“Is that a moo I hear?” I poked it with my fork.
Bub blinked down at his own plate and gasped softly. “Apologies, love. That one’s mine.” He swapped our meals and I gave the medium-done steak a more approving look before attacking it. Bub watched me, a teasing grin drawing up one side of his mouth.
“Save room for dessert,” he said with a wink.
I returned his devilish look and stuffed another bite of steak into my mouth before having more wine. “You’ll never believe who I saw today,” I said, once my hunger had tapered off enough for me to pause and take a breath.
“Hmmm?” Bub said around a mouthful of salad as he looked up at me. The golden flecks in his eyes sparkled under the candlelight. It was hypnotizing, and I almost forgot what I was saying. “Who’s that?” Bub asked, reminding me.
“Vince Hare, the reaper Grim supposedly terminated a hundred years ago.”
Bub’s fork clattered noisily to his plate. He swallowed hard before looking up again. “Where did you see this miscreant, exactly?”
“On the mortal side. During a harvest. He stole my catch.” I wiped my napkin across my mouth and frowned at him. “Did you know he was alive?”
He sucked in a tense breath and ran his forked tongue over his teeth slowly, as if considering his next words. “Let’s not ruin our lovely dinner with talk of such things—”
“Hey, you asked about my day.” When he didn’t reply, I set my fork down and folded my arms over the table. “I thought we agreed not to keep secrets anymore.”
“We did.” He nodded slowly, a deep furrow marring his brow.
“Then tell me, did you know he was alive?”
“I suspected, but there was never any proof. Azazel was the Hell Committee’s representative on the Afterlife Council at the time, and the matter hadn’t concerned him, ergo it didn’t concern me.”
A million questions came to mind and began rolling off my tongue. “Why would Grim lie about that? Wasn’t he afraid it would come to light? Why not send someone after him?”
“He did.” Bub pressed his lips together and gave me an apologetic frown. “Saul Avelo.”
Chapter 7
“We all feel the urge to condemn ourselves out of guilt, to blame others for our misfortunes and to fantasize about total disaster.”
—Deepak Chopra
It didn’t make sense. No matter how many times I tried to rationalize why Saul would have let Vince go, my mind refused to stop its endless racing. It spoiled the rest of the romantic evening Bub had so meticulously planned.
I nibbled through the remainder of our dinner, my appetite stunted by the depressing details I had demanded to know. Even the bubble bath I shared with Bub afterward was less stimulating, I was so distracted. When he slipped an arm around my waist after we’d climbed into bed, rather than trying to ravish me, I knew I’d blown my chance at seeing any action tonight. I sighed and squeezed his arm, a silent apology for my negligence.
Sleep didn’t come easily. I lay awake in bed, listening to Bub’s deep breaths as they danced across the back of my neck, and I remembered things that I had thought were long forgotten.
The past was painful. Bittersweet memories laced through with regrets and wishes.
After my hundred-year apprenticeship ended, I’d tried to stay in touch with my mentor. We’d become good friends and enjoyed catching up at the end of the day, when we transported our souls on to the afterlives. He’d continued to share the cargo hold of his barge with me for a few decades after our official pairing had concluded, until I’d saved up enough
to purchase a small boat of my own.
Saul’s territory had been England when I came along in 1709. As the years passed, we found ourselves being directed over to the British colonies in the New World more and more. We harvested medium-risk souls mostly, occasionally being pulled away to help reap casualties of the French and Indian Wars. The American Revolution that came later had been the highlight of my youth.
Industrialization and westward expansion had eventually split our paths. The New World was becoming a bigger place. A more violent place. The Mexican-American War, the Apache Wars, the American Civil War—it was a busy season for death merchants. The Franco-Mexican War took me further south, and it also spurred my interest in learning French and adding a new European territory to my list. I had been an ambitious thing.
Saul’s mood shifted when I began drawing more attention. I started seeing less and less of him. He spent longer hours on his harvests, enjoying the atmosphere of the Wild West and adopting the new look as his own, with his trademark cowboy hat. We were cordial enough whenever we ran into each other, but there was a tension that hadn’t been there before. I couldn’t put my finger on it.
It was a mystery I still hadn’t solved when the news came of his death. I was devastated. Gabriel too. The memorial statue was erected in the city park, and then life went on. At least, it did for everyone else. The depression I sank into quickly demoted me to low-risk harvesting and Grim’s watch list. I stayed there for quite some time.
I couldn’t help but wonder if the distance Saul had put between us was somehow related to his death or the sudden appearance of Vince, now that I knew the role Saul had played—or was supposed to have played—in the reaper’s termination. Maybe I could ask Vince next time I ran into him. In say, oh I don’t know, another hundred years. As long as he didn’t coin off without so much as a hello again.
I tried to remember who Vince had been close to, his mentor or sailing partner. Maybe they would know something useful. Then my mind circled back to Ruth Summerdale. Her appearance couldn’t have been a coincidence. Had Vince used her to distract me?
It doesn’t make sense. The futile mantra in plaguing my mind fired up again. I was in for a long, sleepless night.
Chapter 8
“Peace cannot be achieved through violence, it can only be attained through understanding.”
—Ralph Waldo Emerson
Tuesday morning didn’t start off any better than Monday had. I found Ellen’s griping extra annoying without a full night’s sleep, but my distracted mind filtered out her nasally whining, rendering it into white noise as we entered a funeral home to harvest a pair of souls. At least we didn’t have to worry about timestamps being off on this particular job.
“Ellen,” I said, interrupting her rant, something about the mothball smell of the oriental carpet. “Did you know that Saul was sent to take care of Vince Hare back in the day?”
She took a startled breath and blinked at me. “Who told you that?”
“Does it matter?” I cocked an eyebrow. “I’m just curious if you knew. I mean, you had to know, right? You were the secretary.”
Ellen’s face hardened at the past tense reference to her former job. “And as the secretary, I was sworn to keep the company’s business dealings private.”
We neared the casket display area, and I paused to swat away a fly as it buzzed past my face. “Saul’s dead. Grim’s MIA. What’s the harm in confirming something I already know?” The fly buzzed again, tickling my ear this time, and I wondered if it was of the mundane variety or one of Bub’s. As he had confessed the night before, they didn’t usually follow me to the mortal side.
Ellen sniffed and lifted her nose in the air. “Grim always favored Saul. He got the most attention during our training. Grace compensated by hitting the books, so I was left with the short straw, forced to take on the job with the most responsibility and the least reward.” Her chin dropped and she gave me a sad smile. “That’s how it goes, isn’t it? It took a long time for me to be okay with my humbler status. For centuries, I wanted nothing more than the respect my prestigious counterparts commanded, and now look at me. I’m a train wreck.”
I sighed and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sorry. If it were up to me, you’d be at your desk.” I tried to give her a sympathetic face, hoping my eagerness wasn’t bleeding through.
“Yes,” she finally said. “I knew Saul was the one sent after Vince. Who else would Grim trust to take care of such a task?”
I pressed my lips together and nodded before turning my attention back to the casket. I wasn’t ready to tell her that Saul had failed and Vince was alive. Jenni’s warning about starting rumors didn’t carry the same level of danger as a threat from Grim would have, but I didn’t want to open that can again until I had more solid proof.
To thank Ellen for spilling, I extracted the soul on her docket as well as my own. They were set up in adjoining rooms that matched in every way, and I wondered how many drunk uncles had gotten lost on their way back from the restrooms.
As we were leaving the funeral home with our catches, Ellen paused and faced me again. She fingered her coin nervously. “It probably doesn’t matter, like you said, but there’s another detail you might find interesting about Vince’s termination.”
“What’s that?” I asked, trying to maintain my false indifference.
“He wasn’t selling souls on the ghost market like the papers all said.”
“No?”
Ellen shook her head slowly. “He was stashing them somewhere on the mortal side. As far as I know, none were ever found.”
“Huh,” I said, trying not to sound too interested, and then rolled my coin as my heart hammered excitedly.
Vince was alive, and he was snatching up souls for some nefarious purpose. That was as good a reason as any to open a Special Ops investigation. Not that Jenni would approve it. And I was still left with the question of why Saul hadn’t put an end to Vince’s crimes when he’d been ordered to by Grim.
Had my mentor been part of this crime ring on the mortal side? Did the Wild West seduce him with romantic visions of life as an outlaw? The most pressing question of all though, and one that pulled my heartstrings taut, was whether or not Saul could be alive too. Could he be hiding out on the mortal side along with Vince?
The day dragged on, despite my efforts to rush. I didn’t push Ellen as hard as I probably should have, but I hoped she took it as a kind gesture rather than me being distracted. I just needed to be alone with all the turmoil spinning around inside my head.
After I dropped the last of my souls off at the ship and said goodbye to Ellen and Kevin, I headed into the city. I’d left the hounds in Tartarus for the day, saving a bit of coin, and decided to spend it on a hot apple cider that I took with me to the park.
The circle of tulip trees that surrounded the reaper memorial garden had yielded to autumn, rendering their leaves a rich, sunny yellow. The boughs were quite full, even though enough leaves had fallen to create a matching carpet of yellow around the bronze statues of Saul and Coreen. I headed for Josie’s memorial bench a few yards away, and then froze when I realized it was occupied.
Adrianna Bates was not a fan of mine. Of all the currently living reapers, she managed to squeeze the most guilt out of me. She didn’t even have to say anything. It was the way she looked at me, her eyes cold and unblinking, as if she could see right through me and was not impressed.
I didn’t have anything against Adrianna. She’d been Josie’s mentor, so I’d heard plenty of epic tales that starred her in a shiny, favorable light. She had also been the captain of the Posy Unit before the job had been turned over to me briefly. Now she was the captain of the Mother Goose Unit and dedicated to working with child souls. It was hard not to like her, even if she hated my guts.
I was considering whether I should leave when Adrianna glanced up and caught sight of me. Her neutral features hardened, and the line of her jaw went rigid. She tucked her long hair behind bot
h ears and stood.
As she stalked past me, I couldn’t help myself.
“I can come back later, if you want,” I said, struggling to get the words out. I felt like I should have been apologizing for something. Anything.
Adrianna stopped suddenly and scoffed, as if she couldn’t believe I had the nerve to dare speak to her. I could tell she had something to get off her chest, and part of me wished she’d get it over with.
“You blame me, don’t you?” I asked. Cider sloshed over the rim of my cup, and I realized my hands were shaking. “I didn’t force Josie into anything. You were her mentor. You should know that better than anyone.”
Adrianna’s face flushed as she turned around to glare at me. Her fingers clenched and unclenched, as if she was desperately trying to refrain from strangling me. She finally stuffed them in the pockets of her jean jacket. “Maybe you didn’t force Josie to tag along during your short-lived tour of the upper tier. I’ll give you that much,” she said, a bitter laugh punctuating her speech. “But you can’t deny she’d be alive if she had stayed clear of you.”
Her words drew the breath right out of my lungs. I had no reply. Adrianna, sensing my despair, hurried on before I could collect myself.
“And Coreen, she was like a sister to me. But she met her end during one of your escapades too, didn’t she?” Her eyes glossed over with tears, and I felt them well in my own eyes at the same time.
Adrianna sniffled and glanced over her shoulder toward the memorial statues. Dusk was darkening the sky, and the light feature tucked inside Coreen’s statue’s lifted hand flickered to life, mimicking the final, valiant moment of her last battle. I’d been there to witness it. I wondered if Adrianna would have felt any differently about me if she’d been there too, to see that I’d been following Coreen’s lead, not taking it.
“For all I know,” Adrianna went on, because she obviously hadn’t wounded me enough, “Saul might be alive too if you hadn’t come along. Hell, if Grim hadn’t made you his apprentice, we might even still be together.” A tear slipped from the corner of one eye and ran down her cheek, and for once, I fully understood her hatred toward me.
Hellfire and Brimstone Page 4