Hellfire and Brimstone

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Hellfire and Brimstone Page 8

by Angela Roquet


  “You’re late.” Morgan, a young soul who had come over from Faerie to join Naledi’s Apparition Agency, called out to me. She sat on a bench swing hanging off the cottage’s front porch, her ankles crossed and feet tucked in Mary Janes. Red tights covered her legs under her black dress, and a matching red headband held back her short hair.

  “When were you expecting me?” I asked, tightening my grip on the strap of my messenger bag as I climbed the stairs to escape all the prying eyes.

  Morgan blinked a few times, making her look like a strange doll someone had forgotten on the porch after playtime. “Naledi thought you’d come yesterday,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Is that so?” I rubbed my hands over the goosebumps spreading down my arms. Psychic predictions made my skin crawl.

  Morgan hopped off the swing and opened the front door to the cottage. She tilted her head forward, encouraging me to enter when I didn’t move right away. I pressed my lips together and tried to smile my thanks as I stepped into the foyer. The door slammed behind me and I jumped, alarmed that she hadn’t followed me inside.

  For all the changes in the throne realm, the cottage was quite familiar, even in the more broody, evening light that filtered down from the domed glass ceiling. The stone walls were bare, and the same burner that Winston had filled with exotic herbs and incense in his attempt to woo Naledi hung in one corner. It looked dusty and unused, causing my heart to tighten with a million turbulent emotions.

  “Lana,” Naledi greeted me from the arched entrance to the living room. A beige dress draped over one of her shoulders and wrapped around her middle before dropping in a smooth line all the way to the floor. The material was rugged, like burlap potato sacks, but the way she wore it suggested royalty. It was nicer than the rags she’d been wearing when I’d harvested her, and she seemed way more comfortable than she’d been in the fancy dress suits Jenni had tried to convince her to wear to win the council’s approval.

  “You look well,” I said, taking in her bright eyes and the coil of smooth braids tied in a low knot at the base of her neck.

  She spared me a polite nod of thanks. “I’ve been expecting you.”

  “So I’ve heard.” I gave her a nervous smile and let her lead me around the corner to one of the sofas in the living room. When I sat down, I pulled my bag into my lap and fiddled nervously with the buckles along the front pocket. The television Winston had so loved was draped with a sheet of white silk, and it startled me even more so than the incense burner had.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Naledi asked, folding her hands over her knees.

  “No thanks. I really can’t stay long.”

  She gasped softly. “That’s right. You have an appointment to keep.”

  I felt my face warm and my skin began to crawl again. “So, do you know why I’m here? God, I don’t even know where to begin right now.” It was hard telling how awkward this conversation was going to get. I hated not knowing what she knew via her special throne powers.

  Naledi gave me an apologetic smile and patted my leg. “Sorry. I’m working on my bedside manner. It’s harder than you’d think, given my condition. Please, start wherever you’d like to.”

  My brow pinched and I wet my lips, trying to gather my thoughts now that her weird all-knowing mojo had thrown me off. “Vince Hare, a reaper who was supposedly terminated some time ago, is alive, and he’s snatching up souls on the mortal side.”

  Naledi nodded as I spoke, and I wasn’t sure if it was to show that she was listening or to convey that she already knew all of this. When she didn’t say anything, I went on.

  “Saul Avelo, my late mentor, was ordered to terminate Vince. But he didn’t.”

  “And now you want to know why,” Naledi said. She’d stated it like a fact rather than a question, but I felt compelled to answer anyway.

  “Yes.” I waited, thinking she was about to tell me, but her gaze slid away from mine.

  “This reaper has been gathering souls on the mortal side,” she said. “And many of them are original believers.” I’d been afraid of that.

  “They can see me then. Why?” I asked.

  Naledi frowned as she looked up at me. “I stripped your ability to see a soul’s aura. That is what the council requested. No more, no less.”

  My head felt like it might explode. I gave her a bewildered look. “This isn’t a fey game you can wordplay your way out of. If they find out, I’m finished. There’s no way Ridwan will let this deceit go a second time.”

  “If you don’t find Vince and retrieve the souls he’s harboring, there won’t be a second time.” Naledi grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight. She swallowed and her voice dropped to a whisper. “You have the gifts to do the job you’re needed for, and you’ll continue to possess them until Eternity no longer requires your services.”

  “Or until the council decides to relieve me of my duties, along with my head.” I scoffed and tugged my hand, but she held fast, piercing her dark eyes into mine.

  “The remnants of war cannot be so easily swept under the rug. Don’t you see?” she pleaded. Her eyes rolled back in her head, the whites showing eerily against her dark complexion. “He waits in the shadows and thinks only of revenge. His opening draws near, and when he strikes, you’ll be the only one who can stop him.”

  I finally managed to yank my hand free and stood up from the couch, stumbling as I put more distance between us. I rubbed my tender wrist and sucked in a few panicked breaths. “Could you please not do that? Ever, ever again?” I said, my shoulders shuddering.

  Was Vince really so wicked? I mean, he was a scoundrel. No doubt about it. But who the hell did he have to take revenge on? And for what? There was also the fact that he’d had a hundred years to make this supposed move. So why now?

  “Sorry.” Naledi’s eyes returned to normal and she gave me a pleasant, more neutral expression. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like something to drink?”

  I stared at her, slack jawed and furious, and then grabbed my bag and headed for the front door.

  “Wait!” Naledi called after me. “I haven’t finished giving you the details of your mission.”

  “Mission? What mission?” I spun around in the foyer, turning back to cut her off at the doorway of the living room. “The Special Ops Unit was voted out by the council.”

  “Really?” A cunning grin flicked up the corners of her mouth. “So you’re meeting up with a fugitive on the mortal side tonight for old times’ sake?”

  There was no keeping a straight face when it came to arguing with the throne soul. But Naledi didn’t see everything. At least, she didn’t see enough to be able to whip up a happy ending all the time. Winston’s and Josie’s deaths were proof enough of that. I wished she had warned me, even if she believed there was nothing I could have done to change the outcome. I would have tried harder. Or maybe I would have burned down Eternity with my efforts. Who knew?

  I lifted my chin and glared at Naledi. “No one said I couldn’t look for the missing souls on my own time. And now that I’m not captain of Special Ops, it’s not my responsibility to bring in criminals like Tasha. That’s the Nephilim Guard’s job.”

  Naledi folded her arms. “You’re right, but you do have other responsibilities, ones that Khadija wove into your very creation. There is nothing I can do to remove that burden. You must see it through.”

  I shook my head and migrated closer to the exit. “This isn’t some spiritual destiny I’m trying to fulfill. I just want to get the missing souls back—”

  “Why?” Naledi asked. “They’re not on your docket any longer. Why do you care?”

  I ground my teeth and turned away from her. This conversation was not going the way I’d intended. “I want to finish the job I started. I hate feeling incompetent.”

  “You want to prove that Ridwan was wrong about you.”

  “Yes.” A lump worked its way up my throat, but I swallowed it before adding, “And I want to know what really happ
ened to Saul.”

  Naledi’s silence drew my eyes to her again. The worry in her expression lifted, but not quickly enough.

  “You know,” I said accusingly. “But how could you? Saul was long dead before you took over the throne.”

  “There is a collective knowledge that passes from one throne soul to the next,” she confessed. Some part of me knew this, from dealing with Winston after he inherited the throne from Khadija, but the strangeness of it was so hard to wrap my mind around.

  “So?” I prompted her. “How did Saul die?”

  Apprehension seeped through Naledi’s features again. “There is too much that lies ahead to concern yourself with the past.”

  “Well then, by all means, please, tell me what it is I can do for you.”

  She perked, completely overlooking my scathing sarcasm. “Really?”

  “No.” I choked out an annoyed laugh. “I’m going to track down these souls and make Ridwan eat crow. And then maybe I’ll get a straight answer about Saul from Vince.”

  “I need you to bring those souls to me,” Naledi said. She pushed her palms together and shook her hands in a begging gesture. “The council has ordered the Fates to stop sharing soul records with Horus. Now he has no way of knowing when the next original believer will be transferred to this side of the grave. The council also demanded that I remove your ability to see a soul’s aura. Don’t you see what they’re doing? They’ve ensured that no more original believers join me in the throne realm.”

  I raked a hand through my curls and then dragged it across my jaw to rest on my chin. “Do they fear a soul uprising?”

  “They should.” Naledi’s voice took on a threatening cadence. “Vince’s counterfeit death has helped build and disguise a force far more dangerous than Seth’s rebel demons ever dreamed of becoming.”

  My mouth was suddenly dry. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that you need to convince these souls on the other side to join us. Convince them that things have changed—for the better—in Eternity.”

  “You mean they don’t want to be rescued?” I thought of Ruth and how she had run away from me. Naledi had come out in the open before the factory souls’ disappearance. If Ruth was with Vince, surely he’d heard about it too.

  Naledi watched me with a grim expression. “I’m trying to bridge a gap the council has spent over a thousand years creating. Coming into the light was only the first step. I need your help.”

  My legs felt like they might fall out from under me. “This sounds too much like treason, and I’ve gotten myself into enough trouble by going against the council’s orders.”

  “The council is going to destroy us all if they keep resisting change. They’ve forgotten that souls are the very essence that fuels Eternity, and if they continue to drown out the voices of those they depend on, they will only have themselves to blame when the souls rise up and wash over the city in an angry, violent tide,” Naledi said.

  Her words brought to mind the literal sea of souls that the Witch of Endor had summoned with the Seal of Solomon at the last Oracle Ball. I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to chase the nightmare vision away. I didn’t want to imagine what kind of damage the souls could have done if they’d been coherent and outraged, rather than simply under the witch’s zombie spell.

  Another upsetting thought rushed in to fill the void. “If Vince is so evil, why did Saul let him live all those years ago?”

  Naledi sighed and her eyes softened with pity. “Poor child,” she cooed, reminding me that she was an ancient being, despite the more dominant personality of her youthful, previous life. “He’s no more evil than you or I. The answer to your question will only break your heart, and you’re going to need that for what’s to come.”

  Chapter 15

  “Hate your job? Join our support group! It’s called EVERYBODY. We meet at the bar.”

  —Drew Carey

  My chat with Naledi was more than I’d bargained for. I’d arrived hoping to find out why certain souls could still see me before leaving their mortal bodies. Instead, I’d left with visions of souls rioting in my head. And somehow, thanks to Khadija, I was supposed to fix it. Behind the council’s back. For free.

  If ever I’d had a fuck my life moment, this was it.

  As per usual, when the world kicked me while I was down, I headed for Purgatory Lounge. My nerves were frayed, and I was supposed to meet up with Tasha in less than two hours. I wondered if the bar in Jamaica had a bartender with an original soul. It was the only perk I could imagine this everlasting death sentence of mine having.

  What burned me the most was that the council knew I’d been created as a fail-safe to maintain the Throne of Eternity, and instead of accepting that and applauding my patriotic efforts, they’d condemned and neutered me. They didn’t want my help. To them, I was just some lowly reaper, hardly worthy of a pat on the back, let alone any special abilities that might protect Eternity from total disaster. Pride goeth before destruction and all that, I suppose.

  The sky over Limbo City was darker when I returned, and a crisp breeze whipped through my hair and drew tears from my eyes. I resisted the urge to dig my wrinkled work robe out of my bag and quickened my pace down Morte Avenue.

  Purgatory was lively for a Wednesday night. Not weekend lively, but enough sweaty bodies to create a playful atmosphere. Several off-duty nephilim huddled around a pool table in the back corner, bits of discarded armor scattered on the surrounding tables and chairs. Two female souls watched from the jukebox, their flirty eyes stealing unsubtle glances every so often.

  I sat down at a barstool and offered Xaphen the least pathetic smile I could summon when he emerged from the kitchen to greet me. “Heya, kiddo. What can I get ya?” The halo of flames around his crown danced as he grabbed a rag and wiped up a water ring on the bar in front of me.

  “How about a mojito?” I said, thinking how nice it would be to enjoy the drink on the beach. Maybe I’d sneak one out and take it to Jamaica with me. I was meeting with a fugitive. What reason did I have to be professional anyway?

  “Make that two of those, and put it on my tab.”

  I almost fell off my stool when Adrianna Bates sat down beside me. I stammered out a line of surprised gibberish that sounded like I might already be drunk. The nonsensical noise began as a confused question and ended in equally confused thanks. I didn’t know what else to say.

  “Don’t mention it,” Adrianna replied, a note of humor in her eyes. She shrugged out of her jean jacket and draped it over her chair. Her long, straight hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and it spilled over her shoulder, almost disappearing against the black turtleneck she wore.

  Xaphen turned his back to us and pulled a bottle of rum down from a top shelf before digging a lime and a handful of mint leaves out of the cooler under the counter. He chopped up the lime and muddled it, the mint, and some simple syrup in the bottoms of two rocks glasses before adding in the ice, rum, and club soda.

  As soon as he placed the drinks in front of me and Adrianna, the nephilim in the corner cheered. Someone had won their most recent game, and apparently that meant someone else had to chug a whole pitcher of beer.

  “That’s my cue,” Xaphen said. He filled another pitcher and hurried off, leaving a tense silence in his absence.

  Adrianna took a sip of her mojito and cleared her throat. “I should apologize.”

  “It’s okay,” I said, feeling my face flush with more heat than her initial insults had generated. “I get it. I’d probably hate me too if I were you.”

  “That doesn’t make it right.” She gave me a tight smile and tapped her fingernails against her glass before taking another drink. “Josie was smart. She wouldn’t have wasted her time with someone who didn’t treat her well. And I know Coreen was in charge of that last mission she went on.” She took a deep breath and gulped down some more of her mojito, as if she needed it to get her next words out. “I also realize that your apprenticeship
assignment was out of your hands. Saul’s too, for that matter,” she added under her breath. “I suppose that one’s to blame on Grim. He was pissed when Saul stepped down from his position as second-in-command.”

  My eyebrows shot up in surprise as I sipped at my own drink. I was learning all kinds of new things about my mentor this week. Though I did know that Saul hadn’t wanted another apprentice when my generation was introduced. Grim had assigned me to him anyway. Our union started off rocky, but it smoothed out soon enough, and then it had flourished. I’d adored Saul, and I knew he cared a great deal about me too. What I hadn’t known was that he and Adrianna were an item. Apparently, there was a lot I didn’t know.

  I opened my mouth to say something to that effect, but the ring of my cell phone cut me off, and I ended up apologizing instead.

  “Go ahead,” Adrianna said, downing the rest of her drink as I answered Bub’s call.

  “Yes?” I tried to deliver the clipped greeting with a sweet tone, leaving off the pet name I wanted to add since I had audience.

  “Sorry to interrupt your girls’ night, pet, but I wanted to check in.” He was totally fishing. I wondered if his bug-eyed spy had infiltrated Ellen’s apartment and reported my vanishing act.

  “Everything’s fine,” I said, skipping over the detail of my location he was clearly after. “How’s the garden coming along?” I asked. Best to change the subject before he could pry any further.

  “The white baneberries look a bit shriveled, but I’m hopeful they’ll make a comeback.”

  “And the hounds? Are they behaving?”

  “Oh yes,” he said. “Your apprentice left a bit ago. I let his mongrels get a good run in out back.”

  “You’re the best. I’ll see you soon. Kiss kiss.”

  “Kiss kiss,” Bub echoed back to me, his words sounding strained, as if he wasn’t quite ready to let me go without the answers to his unasked questions.

  I hated having to be so dodgy with him, but if he knew where I was, he’d send another fly to tail me. Of that, I was sure. Then the thing would buzz around my face during my meeting with Tasha until I was forced to squash it—forced to squash him, as he so dramatically put it.

 

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