Unforgiven: A Soulkeepers Novel (The Soulkeepers Book 3)

by Lori Adams

  “I’ll find it.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  Chapter 19

  BASE Jumping Off the Edge of Insanity

  I am standing in the living room of our private chambers in the barn. The walls have been retracted again, creating a vast, peaceful space. A quick glance around and a missing second heartbeat tell me that Michael is not here. But someone is moving around in the kitchen so I head there.

  Jarvis is boiling something on the stove. It smells Italian and delicious. He samples a spoonful and then sees me from the corner of his eye. “Mmm.” He sets aside the wooden spoon and smacks his lips.

  “Love human food. Quite extraordinary sometimes.”

  I smile tentatively and clear my throat. “Smells great. Um, I was hoping Michael was here?”

  He gives me a lingering look and then opens the fridge and disappears inside. “He waited as long as he could,” Jarvis calls while gathering ingredients for a salad. I suppose he’s preparing our dinner.

  “Where is he now?”

  Jarvis kicks the door shut and then unloads his arms onto the countertop. “He went off to track down that demon spy. Jordan, I believe you said?” He looks down his nose at me and my stomach clenches. I’d forgotten about that. I ask if Michael is going on anything else but my word and Jarvis makes his meh face.

  I wring my hands. This is bad. I really, really needed Michael to be here. I have to explain what I’m up to. No way I’m going down to Hell without…actually, now that I think about it, I might be able to get there and back without Michael ever knowing. I’d tell him after the fact, of course, but there’s a high probability that he’d try to stop me. Then again, if he knew what Dante was up to, maybe he wouldn’t.

  I’m contemplating options I don’t even have. Michael isn’t here and I’m wasting time. I can’t afford to miss my window of opportunity with Degan. If I don’t show up at this Weeping Rock place and he’s forced to leave, I have no way of contacting him. It could be days, weeks, or months before we run into each other again. I can’t risk it.

  I step back to leave but Jarvis is watching me while he tears lettuce into bite-size pieces. He has a way of looking at me like he knows I’m up to something. Kind of reminds me of Miss Minnie that way.

  “Could you tell Michael that I was here? That I’ll be back…later?” I ask. Jarvis tilts his head with a disbelieving frown. It’s freaking unnerving so I challenge him. “What is it?”

  He shrugs and makes his—

  “Please! Don’t make that meh face. Just tell me.”

  Jarvis looks at his hands buried in the giant bowl of lettuce. He stops shredding and gathers his thoughts. “Someone went to quite a bit of trouble to allow you and Michael to stay together. Michael blatantly broke his vows and, by all rights, he should have been recalled home. And yet he is allowed to remain an angel. I would not take that gift for granted. I would not tempt fate, again, Sophia. Whatever you are involved with, think very carefully of the consequences.”

  I step farther into the room, ready to explain, but he holds up his hand. “I have no wish to aid and abet, so please, do not say a word. Only take my warning for what it’s worth. I care for Michael Patronus. Some of us believe that he is destined to be a great warrior. Legendary, even. Just keep that with you when you go.”

  He returns to his salad making while I reel from his warning. I leave with a sick sensation in my stomach. Maybe it’s better that Michael wasn’t home. Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t know anything about what I’ve done.

  —

  By the time I reach my old house, I decide that Jarvis is right. I have to protect Michael from this ugliness. This horrible mess I’ve made. He’s on precarious ground with the Halos. Michael may have been allowed to remain an angel after breaking his vows, but we don’t know if that courtesy will extend to the Halos. No sense giving the Halo Masters more reason to question Michael’s loyalty. Especially if Degan and I can fix things on our own.

  I am rummaging through my old bedroom like a woman possessed. Tossing clothes from my drawers, flinging aside empty shoe boxes. I can’t remember in which hiding place I put the Apoctastasis parchment. First place was a Cheetos bag in my sock drawer but I’ve moved it since then. Last place was inside a small bottle in my desk drawer. It’s not there and I’m starting to panic. I’m on my hands and knees, feeling underneath the desk when my closet door is thrown open. Rama Kuan strolls in like he owns the place.

  “Hey, wahine! Howzit hanging?”

  No luck under the desk, so I sit back on my heels and contemplate another hiding place. “Hey, what’s up?” I mumble without interest. Maybe under the bed?

  Rama comes over and pulls me to my feet. “Didn’t expect to find you here. Howzit being married and all?”

  “What? Oh, it’s great. Michael keeps tossing me off high places but other than that, it’s great.” He frowns at my response and then sees that I’m distracted. Doesn’t take long before he’s on my heels, following me around the room.

  “Are we smooth sailing, or throwing wind on it already?”

  I don’t want Rama involved either, so I tell him everything is copacetic. He’s not buying.

  “Naw, naw, naw. You can’t fool old Uncle Rama. I know a wind chop when I see one. Storm’s a brewin’, wahine. Tell me.” He takes me by the shoulders, forcing my attention. When I don’t answer, he says, “There’s only one clam at this bake. You’re after that Apoctastasis spell. Am I right?” I close my eyes with a pinched expression. I do not want Rama involved! “Listen, wahine,” he goes on like he can read my mind. “I’m here for the duration. You and me. That was the deal, cha?”

  “Please, just go, Rama,” I moan, slumping down on the bed. “It’s complicated and…there’s actually nothing you can do at this point anyway.”

  “Hey, I don’t duck-dive the big ones. You got a monster wave, I’m riding with you. Togeddah both. Remember?”

  I shake my head, refusing to give in. The clock on the nightstand tells me I’ve got fifteen minutes to find the parchment and get to Weeping Rock somewhere along the Borderlands. Rama needs to leave but I know better than to argue. Besides, I hear Dad and Sundance clomping up the stairs.

  I move on, tearing through my jewelry box. No luck. Rama takes it upon himself to move aside my mattress. There is the bottle with the parchment tucked safely inside.

  “Yes!” I cry out. Now I remember jamming it under the mattress after one of Dante’s visits. I was worried he might see it in my drawer.

  Rama snatches it up before I can. When I reach for it, he holds it away. “Uh-uh.”

  “Thought I heard voices,” Dad says cheerfully as he opens the door. I haven’t seen him since the wedding. He’s flushed with a healthy, wintry glow, like he’s just returned from a brisk walk in the cold air. The thought that he looks genuinely happy flashes through my mind, just about the time his smile comes undone. He notes the tension in the room. Rama and I are scowling.

  “Sophia, honey? What’s wrong?” Dad comes over and I bolt away. I’m too keyed up for this. I seriously have to leave, now!

  “I’m fine, Dad. Really. Just in a hurry.” I reach for the bottle again but Rama is being as stubborn as I am. He raises it high over his head. Dad demands to know what’s going on. While I gather up the appropriate excuses to keep Dad at bay, Rama suddenly decides to spill the beans.

  “She’s in a bad way. Got herself mixed up with a witch and a spell.”

  “Rama!” I yell, but he goes on. It’s like a train wreck where more and more cars keep piling up, exploding, one on top of the other. Carnage everywhere. For the second time, I drop onto the mattress in utter defeat. When the last car comes crashing in, Dad looks at me, horror-stricken.

  “Sophia, I…” He doesn’t know what to say. I’ve crossed so many lines or boundaries, broken so many rules, it’s exhausting to the imagination.

  After throwing a heated glare at Rama, I explain the daily routine of things, how Ka and I switched pl
aces for school and work. “So all that time you were here, it wasn’t really you? It was this Ka person?”

  I give him only minor details because I can see that he is feeling betrayed; I don’t want to hurt him any further. It’s an impossible wish. He feels duped and disappointed that I didn’t trust him with the truth.

  “You would have talked me out of it, Dad. I couldn’t risk it. I’m sorry.” I make the customary excuses of getting in over my head, unable to do things without help. Once I verbalize it, I feel even worse. Maybe I should have tried harder. Other spirit walkers surely had to do it all by themselves. Then again, I doubt that any other spirit walker trying to complete her Awakening had a notorious Demon Knight stalking her. Or two.

  I stand and take a deep breath. It actually feels good to unburden myself, but I’m in a rush. “Look, I don’t have time to explain any more. I need the spell. And I need to go.” I thrust out my hand, but Rama won’t give up the bottle.

  “You find a way to bring Ka back to the surface?” he asks. I don’t supply an answer so he finds his own. “Only one reason you need the spell now…If Ka isn’t on the surface, then you’re…” Heading down below. That’s what he won’t say aloud but he knows he’s right. It’s the answer behind the hardened look in my eyes.

  “I won’t be talked out of it,” I say evenly. “I have a way in, a guide that I trust. I need the spell, Rama. Now.” Again, I extend my hand.

  Rama’s eyes go wild in his head. He starts wailing and pacing around the room like a man possessed. Dad yells, “What’s going on?” and Rama whirls on him. “She’s planning to descend into Hell! To get Ka back!”

  This just went from bad to worse. I lunge for the bottle but he jerks it over his head again. “I don’t have time for games!” I shout. We grapple awkwardly, and I’m so overwhelmed with stress that tears burn my eyes.

  “Please, Rama! Time is running out! If I don’t go now, it will be too late!” In a trembling voice, I explain about Dante and Ka getting married, about the guards keeping others away, and her unwillingness to return to the surface. Dad refuses to believe that Ka would agree to marry Dante, so I’m compelled to reveal everything about Lovaria. I have to admit that, just like Ka, I remember my past life with Dante. “He’s obsessed, Dad,” I choke out. “You can see that, right? Dante won’t give up. He’s made too much progress this time around. As far as he’s concerned, he has Lovaria back. If I don’t return to my original state, he will win. I’m afraid that I’ll grow weak as Lovaria gains strength. I, alone, will fade because she has my soul! Nobody can stop the process but me. And I have to! Now! I can’t live like this anymore!”

  All things considered, Dad seems to take it well. He sways like he’s been hit by a baseball bat but doesn’t keel over. Instead, he wraps his arms around me, accepting the predicament I’m in. But he’s trembling as badly as I am.

  “Yes, you can’t live like this,” he murmurs in a strange, vacant voice. “You must get your soul back. This all needs to end. I can see that now. But, Sophia, honey, maybe you should talk to your mother about this. Maybe she could…”

  I lean back and stare at him like he’s gone off the tracks. “What, Dad? ‘Maybe she could’ what?” He shrugs with uncertainty or just plain foolishness. “Do you know if she can help? Do you know how to summon Mom?”

  “No, I don’t know…” he stammers. “I just thought because you can…walk in the spirit world, that you could…”

  “I can’t. Believe me, I wish I could find her. I wish I could go to the Borderlands and flag her down somehow. But it just doesn’t work like that.” He nods sadly and rubs my arms. “Listen, going to Hell is the last thing I want to do, you both know that, right? If there were any other way, I would gladly do it. But there’s not.”

  Rama still holds my parchment hostage but his expression changes. He thrusts his chin up and makes a hard face that I’ve never seen before.

  “Nobody makes my wahine suffer like this. You need to get into Hell. We’ll get into Hell.”

  “We?” I give him a suspicious sideways look.

  “We go. Togeddah both.” He is firm.

  “But what happens to you if we’re caught? If something goes wrong?”

  He chortles and waves me off. “Nothing goes wrong down there with me by your side. Anyway, those hodads don’t want to mess with me. I don’t have anything they want. Can’t use my energy for anything evil so…” He shrugs away any concerns but the implication settles on me. The Order has made a lot of concessions to ensure that the spirit walker they have in Hell is protected until she can be exploited. Which means they will most definitely want what I’ve got. If I’m caught.

  “You’ll keep her safe?” Dad asks, his voice quivering with fear. His healthy glow has faded into a sick, pallid sheen. He’s sweating and weaving a bit. I ease him onto the bed, suggesting that he invite Connie over to keep him company. It doesn’t seem to register. He mumbles something about going to church and I think it’s a fine idea.

  “Keep safe,” he says in a pleading tone, as I pull away. I promise that I will and then, finally, Rama and I head to the Borderlands.

  —

  “He said Weeping Rock,” I tell Rama for the fifth time. We’ve been walking through the cool mist for a few minutes. I’m nervous and jumpy. There is a lot riding on this. Thankfully, Rama trusted me with the parchment. I have it tucked inside my black leather glove, inside my coat pocket, for safekeeping. Rama thought we should dress like lesser demons to blend in, so besides my usual spiritual clothes, black boots, and weapons, I’m also wearing a long black overcoat. Rama is likewise, but he’s fidgeting. He’s been complaining that the boots are too confining. Like walking in cement shoes, compared to his light, huarache sandals.

  “Patience, wahine,” he tells me, while shaking his foot with irritation. “I’m getting us there.”

  He leads us along a path that opens to a grassy knoll with trees at one end and a pile of boulders at the other. While Rama explains the origin of Weeping Rock’s name, I become aware of an unexpected sound: a male voice singing to the faint strums of an acoustic guitar. Rama hears it, too, so we change direction and head toward the boulders. The valley is now spread to my right while the jagged edge of the cliff runs along my left. It appears to have been hacked into existence by a million angry swords. The cool white mist that floats in the valley transforms at the cliff’s edge, growing thick and black. It works to disguise a sheer drop that leads to nothing but evil.

  We come around to Degan, sitting on a rock playing a guitar. With his back to us, he doesn’t know we’ve arrived and continues crooning one of the saddest laments I’ve ever heard: “Devil’s Waitin’ ” by the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. It’s ironic, coming from a soul seeker, and not half bad.

  Rama is glaring at him, not happy that I have put my trust in a known seeker. We let Degan finish his song, drawing out the suffering lyrics to the end. It reveals the depth of his sadness, the absolute despair he must feel with his calling in life. I wonder if it isn’t by design; Degan has admitted his failure as a soul seeker. Wouldn’t it be fitting punishment to constantly torture him by making him crave a human existence? Something he can never have? Doesn’t that sound just like something “the man” would devise?

  It occurs to me that if this scheme goes my way, it might mean trouble for Degan. The Order will know I had help getting in. From what I understand, you have to go looking for a specific gate to Hell. Chances of me finding gate five on my own are slim to none. For the first time, I realize just what Degan is risking.

  “Hey, Degan,” I say when his voice fades and fingers come to rest on the guitar strings. He looks over his shoulder, happy as a kid in a candy store. Then he sees that I have company and quickly stands up. He didn’t expect Rama. I make the introductions but they don’t shake hands, just stare with equal suspicion.

  “Hey, man, what’s up?” Degan forces a tight smile. Rama snarls like he smells something.

  “Bad fish
,” he mutters under his breath.

  “It’s cool,” Degan says, like he’s used to being hated. “I get it. And I don’t mind if you tag along, just as long as we stay in the shadows once we descend. I want this to work for Sophia, but if it’s all the same to you guys, I’d rather not get on Dante’s bad side in the process.”

  “Why?” Rama demands. “Why do you want this to work for Sophia?”

  Degan looks taken aback and then his eyes shift to mine. He softens noticeably and answers with quiet affection. “Sophia is the only person who’s ever been nice to me. For real. The first time I saw her, Michael Patronus was beating the living daylights out of me. Sophia made him stop.”

  “I’ll do everything I can not to out you,” I tell him. I would hate to see what Dante or Vaughn would do to him if this plan goes south.

  Rama’s head swivels around and he gawks at me. I ignore his obvious issue with my promise and give Degan a look that says I get it.

  “Okay, then.” He sets the guitar aside. “Best get going. I’ve been gone awhile now.”

  “Aren’t you taking the guitar?” I ask, and he tells me he’s not allowed to bring anything materialistic down.

  “Nothing but souls.” He sighs with a bleak expression. “Not unless you’re a gatekeeper or a noble. Or working for them. I’ll never be anything but what I am.”

  Rama and I walk to the precipice and peer over the edge, contemplating just what lies beneath the black mist. Rama seems pretty relaxed, considering the plunge we’re about to take.

  “Do we just jump?” I ask Degan, but he scoffs.

  “I don’t recommend it. At least not here. You’re likely to hit every underling on the way down.” He starts on a path toward the trees. “This way. Come with me now.” Rama and I look at each other and then do as we’re told. “Hey, it’s just like that song,” Degan comments as we walk along. “You know, ‘Come with Me Now’ by the Kongos?” He starts singing it as we go, slapping his thighs and really getting into it. Degan is suddenly hyper like he’s on something, so Rama gives me a cantankerous look.