by D. C. Gomez
Wow, life and death meant nothing to them. They really needed some serious therapy.
“Oh, please. Do us all a favor and shoot yourselves.”
I looked at the witches one more time. Rose was in the middle of her coven. She had three to the left and three on the right, including Lily. The fire victim was being carried by one of the thugs to the corner. Another thug was carrying the one Bartholomew had knocked out. Seven witches, one with a grudge from here to Canada. Not great odds.
“Consider it a gift, especially after all the pain you’ve caused us. You’ve put us six months behind.” How kind of Rose to offer death so freely. I liked the fact that she was blaming me for all of this.
“Aren’t you kind? Too bad my boss doesn’t believe in making deals. She doesn’t like people interfering with her business. You are pretty screwed.” Bartholomew was in the prone position, ready to start shooting.
“Your boss is a joke. She, as you called her, can’t stop us.” Rose was a bit too full of herself. “Enough games. Fire!”
Spells started flying over our heads. Bart returned fire.
“Constantine, any news?” I yelled.
“Your backup is right there.” Constantine was like a kid in a candy store, busting with excitement.
“Who are we looking for, Constantine?” Bartholomew looked at me, confused. Neither one of us had a clue what Constantine was talking about.
“You’re looking for us, silly boy.”
Bartholomew and I were scared out of our minds. Jake was kneeling to one side of me, and Death was on the other side of Bartholomew. They had just appeared out of thin air.
Bartholomew didn’t waste any time with pleasantries. “Oh, God. Where did you two come from?”
“Down the memorial. You two took your sweet time to get back here. Isis, I like the look. Sexy.” Jake was playing with my hair as he spoke. I slapped his hand and tucked away the loose strands he was playing with.
“I told you I saw two people at the memorial. You were playing chess, right?” Bartholomew was not letting that go.
“Nice. I’m impressed. I figured those stupid trees were covering us.” Jake was giving Bartholomew his best smile. He was in another fabulous outfit, this one with a red tie.
“Yes, I’m that good. So who won?”
“Trust me, little man, never play against Death. You never win.” Jake gave Death a wink, and she smiled back. I had no idea how they made kneeling look good. It wasn’t fair.
“You two were playing chess while we were getting chased by witches.” I gave them an incredulous look. The witches had stopped throwing spells and were quiet.
“You had things under control, Isis. Besides, what’s the point of having an intern if I have to save you every five minutes?”
I wasn’t sure whether that was supposed to be a compliment or an insult.
“Thanks. Why are you hanging out with the devil?”
Death smiled as if this were just another day at the park. Only Bartholomew and I looked worried about the situation.
“Jake is one of our biggest clients, remember? I figured I’d save him the delivery cost and have him collect his own packages.” Death smiled kindly at Jake. “Besides, these girls enjoy a flare for the dramatic. It’s about time they experience a taste of it. It’s only fair.” Death was looking at her nails as she spoke. She looked at me, and there was nothing but coldness and emptiness in her eyes. For the first time, I was truly terrified of Death.
“Isis, watch your head.” Bartholomew pulled me closer to the ground. My mind had gone completely empty staring at Death. It was a blessing he did; the witches were back to throwing spells. One flew by my head and slammed against the building.
“Thanks, Bart.”
“No problem. Are you two going to handle them? We’re almost out of bullets.”
“We got this, Bartholomew. Jake, would you like to go first?” Death was arching an eyebrow at the devil.
Jake gave her the most predatory smile I’d ever seen. “It will be my pleasure.” In one smooth motion, he was up and straightening his suit.
Death followed close behind him. She was wearing a three-piece black suit. She looked immaculate; even her hair was perfectly combed, not a strand out of place.
“I would recommend you two stay back here.” Death didn’t have to tell us twice. We nodded in full understanding. I joined Bartholomew on the ground to watch the crazy scene.
“Who the hell are you?” Rose was eyeing Jake with hatred. “I recommend you leave while you still have time. This is not your fight.”
“Tempting. Unfortunately, my friend over here made me a better offer.”
Death walked over to Jake and placed her hand on his shoulder. “I heard you were looking for me.”
By the looks on the witches’ faces, I was pretty sure Death did not look to them like the fine-looking woman Bartholomew and I were seeing. Their faces were pale.
“Death.” There was true fear in Rose’s voice. “You won’t take us. Ladies, now.” The witches looked like synchronized dancers. They took aim at Death and Jake and fired. They were so quick, I didn’t have time to scream.
To the surprise of the witches, Jake and Death didn’t need any shields. Instead, Jake absorbed their spells into the palm of his hand. He closed his fingers over the spells and dissolved them into sand. The witches were staring at him in pure horror. I didn’t blame them. I was terrified. I didn’t know which one was doing it—either Death or Jake—but the temperature had dropped at least forty degrees. We were shivering.
“That was impressive. Scary as hell, and so impressive,” Bartholomew whispered.
“This is not going to end well for them.” I looked at Bartholomew, and he nodded.
“Cute. Not bad for amateurs. Too bad you went independent; you had potential. My turn.” Jake was taunting them. He looked like a lion playing with his food. After everything they had done, I actually felt sorry for them. Jake pointed a finger at them. “Ready for real power?”
Death looked over her shoulder at us. “Isis, incoming.” Her words were almost a whisper to me.
“Oh, crap.” I dropped my gun, pulled Bartholomew toward me, and covered his face. “Bart, close your eyes.”
I didn’t have enough time to think. I closed my eyes and tried to get us as low to the ground as I could, covering Bart with my body. Whatever Jake let loose was almost like a nuclear bomb. I heard the screams of the witches. The air smelled of burned hair and meat. The truck in front of us took a major hit and was lifted over us. Bartholomew and I screamed. The force of the blast was so strong, we were slammed against the building. Everything went dark very quickly.
Chapter 38
Ouch! Everything hurt, including my spirit. I opened my eyes to a dark room. By the smell of the sheets, I realized I was in my bed. I didn’t have to guess this time. Instead, I just spoke.
“Hi, Death.”
She snapped her fingers, and my night light came on. Who needed the Clapper when Death was around?
“We need to stop meeting like this.”
As usual, she just smiled. “At least you haven’t lost your sense of humor.” Once again I was wearing PJs, and Death had on what appeared to be a ball gown. Who dressed her? “How do you feel?”
“Like roadkill.” The fogginess that had covered my brain was slowly lifting. “Where’s Bartholomew?” I tried to get up. “Oh God, this hurts.”
Death was by my side in the blink of an eye. “He’s fine. You took the majority of the blast. Try to relax now.” She arranged my pillows again and sat on the bed. She was spending a lot of time tucking me in. At this rate, she was going to surpass my godmother.
“What happened?” At least I didn’t have to struggle to look at her now.
“The usual. Jake needed to show off. He doesn’t take it very well when humans try to outdo him. Especially arrogant ones who fail to recognized him.” There was no judgment in her voice—just facts.
“How are we goi
ng to explain a nuclear blast in the middle of downtown Texarkana? And all those bodies?” Was it part of my job to come up with cover stories? I was really bad at that. I was starting to panic.
“Isis, breathe. Constantine took care of it. The news will be reporting a propane gas truck lost control and crashed into two vehicles in front of the post office. Horrible tragedy. Nine women dead, and a few men injured.” Death winked at me and brushed my hair off my face.
“Are people going to believe that?” That was one hell of a cover story.
“A couple of eyewitnesses on the scene will corroborate it, and the story will hit the front page. A very horrible accident, nobody is going to think too hard on it. Humans don’t want to hear about the supernatural world; simple works every time.”
“Who did he get to be an eyewitness to that mess?” Last time I’d checked, all the witnesses were dead or beaten the hell up.
“It seems your friend Shorty was just around the corner when he saw the truck speeding down State Line. Imagine that.” Death looked pretty innocent as she spoke.
“Yeah, imagine that.” I didn’t want to know how Shorty had gotten there and where Constantine had found a propane gas truck in Texarkana.
“You need rest, Isis. But, unfortunately, Constantine won’t let you sleep till you eat something. He’s been trying to give you an IV since you arrived. I recommend food instead.”
“Does every intern have this much fun?”
“Some don’t have nearly this much excitement in a lifetime, dear. Not bad for your first week. Not bad at all, Isis.” She smiled kindly. Death truly cared about her interns. I don’t know how she did it, having to see so many leave her so soon. “I can help with the pain, but you’ll have one hell of a sunburn for a few days. Your hair will need some treatment as well.”
“I’ll take all the help I can get.”
Death kissed my forehead, and, like magic, the pain eased from my body.
“Thank you.” I was so relieved, I wanted to cry.
“Anytime, dear. Go check in with Constantine before he sends in the National Guard. I’ll see you soon.” She patted my cheeks and headed out the door.
I was not a hairy person, but even the few hairs I had on my arms were gone. Bad sunburn was an understatement. I was radiating. I didn’t believe it was possible for a brown girl to burn, but I was proved wrong. I was making mental notes to avoid the devil at all costs. I was planning to spend a lot more time in church and out of the club.
I walked into the kitchen, and Constantine was pacing back and forth on the kitchen island. He was giving orders to somebody. I was afraid poor Bartholomew was up already. Nobody was in the kitchen. Constantine was talking into one of the walkie-talkies we had in the house.
“Isis, it’s about time you were up. How do you feel? Never mind that. You look like hell. That’s probably how you feel.” That was definitely a first—Constantine was asking and answering his own questions all at once.
“Hi to you, too, Terminator. Who are you yelling at?” I opened the fridge and grabbed some milk. I felt parched.
“Hi, Isis.” I turned around to find Bob entering the loft with two large bags.
“Bob!” I put the milk on the counter and shuffled over to Bob. I gave him a huge hug. He was careful not to hurt me.
“Death said to be careful with you and Bart till you’re completely healed. You don’t look so bad for surviving a giant blast.” Bob was looking at me very carefully.
“Bob is right. You don’t look half-bad. Of course, you’re going to peel. Abuelita sent you some ointments, and she said you need to start using them now. She also wanted to thank you for watching over that crazy grandson of hers.” Bob was pulling bottles from the bag as Constantine explained. “Eric also made you and Bartholomew more shakes. He said they’ll help with healing and raise your immune system.”
“Abuelita and Eric were here?” I was looking at the stack of bottles Bob had pulled out.
“Of course not. In your condition, we’re not taking any visitors. We also canceled practice till next week so you can heal properly.” Constantine had canceled practice. I was in worse shape than I had imagined. “I also told Abuelita you won’t be going in for another week. We don’t need any rumors of your condition linking you to downtown.”
“So we quarantine Reapers. How are we going to get food?” I really didn’t want to starve to death.
“What do you think Bob has been doing? Girl, please. We’re not new at this. Well, at least I’m not.”
Constantine was still rambling when things finally clicked for me. “Bob, are you staying?”
Bob had a huge smile on his face. This was the best news I’d had in weeks. “The boss here talked to Death, and she agreed to hire me. I have the rooms by the entrance. They’re fully furnished. I’ll be in charge of security and even maintenance of the vehicles.”
“Bob takes better care of the cars than you do. You’re a menace on wheels.” Constantine was cleaning his face with his paw as he spoke.
“I hope you don’t mind…” Bob was looking worriedly at me.
“Mind? Of course not. Bob, this is awesome news. I’m so happy you’re joining us. Are you sure you want to work with us?” This was a crazy life. I wanted to make sure Bob was OK with it.
“Isis, this is the best job I’ve had since leaving the army. For the first time, the nightmares make sense. I have a purpose again.”
“In that case, welcome to the family.” I grabbed the milk again.
“Stop. First the shake, and then the milk. We need to start your healing. You’re not going to be lying around here doing nothing forever.” I knew Constantine’s caring demeanor was not going to last long.
Thank God Eric’s shakes were good. They all had peanut butter for some strange reason. I grabbed a bottle and headed to the kitchen table. I looked out the glass window and saw a new car next to Bumblebee. The thing was covered with a tarp, but the shape was very familiar.
“What’s that?” I pointed toward the garage.
“Your new car just arrived.” Bob looked very excited as he moved toward the window.
“My new car? When did I get a new car?” What had I missed? I got up and moved next to Bob.
“You were not expecting to drive Bumblebee forever. That’s our ride. You might blow it up.” Constantine was standing near Bob. When had those two bonded so well?
“Can I go on the record and clarify that I did not blow up the Whale? That was not my fault.”
“Isis, car, vans, and even trucks tend to explode when you’re near them. So to be on the safe side, we got you a Mini Cooper. Low to the ground, fast, and a lot more stylish than that van of yours.”
I was staring dumbfounded at Constantine. He had bought me a new car. And not just a new car—I had a Mini Cooper. Yes!
“What color?” I was ready to run downstairs and check it out.
“Midnight blue, of course. Are you doubting my taste in vehicles?” Constantine was giving me the evil eye.
“Constantine, I could hug you. You are amazing.”
Before I even tried, he raised his paw. “Child, sit your butt down. Which part of ‘injure’ do you think I was kidding about?” He was trying to be serious, but he couldn’t hold the glare. “Oh, come over here and let me pet you.”
I jumped out of my chair and hugged Constantine. I scratched him behind his ears and rubbed his head. He purred loudly. Every once in a while, Constantine behaved like a normal cat.
“OK, enough now. You’re messing up the fur.” He was still purring as he spoke. “Remember, shake and then bed. You need rest.”
“What are you two going to do?”
Bob was already heading toward the door, and Constantine was following him.
“We got a shipment in that we need to inventory. Bob has some ideas about remodeling downstairs that we are going to discuss. In other words, business as usual. Rest, Isis. You’ve had a busy week.”
“Good night, Isis. See y
ou tomorrow,” Bob said. He was smiling from ear to ear.
“Good night, Bob. Don’t work him too hard, Constantine.”
“Yeah, yeah. It didn’t take him three days to decide he wanted the job. So I’m pretty sure Bob is fine. Rest now.” Bob was holding the door for his evil dictator. “By the way, Isis, nice job.” They were both out the door.
I took my shake to the couch and dropped down. I couldn’t believe it had only been a week. I had been beaten up, blown up, and nearly executed several times, and somehow I had made it and saved the hostages. Not only that—I now had a family. Not your traditional family, but who needed traditional when you worked for Death? Not a bad week for a girl who had no idea what she was doing.
I finished the shake and curled up on the couch. I could see Bob and Constantine roaming the shop downstairs. Not a bad week at all. I closed my eyes and smiled to myself, wondering what tomorrow would bring.
About the Author
D. C. Gomez was born in the Dominican Republic; raised in Salem, Massachusetts; and educated in New York City. After serving in the US Army, the writer moved to Wake Village, Texas, where she now lives with a very sassy tabby cat, Chincha.