by Ching, G. P.
“Very well,” Fatima said.
A breeze swept over the hill, causing the scales to knock together. “Are you doing that?” Malini asked the three immortals. The In Between was constructed of consciousness. Ordinarily, everything here was Fatima’s doing as this was her realm. But Fate shook her head.
The breeze turned into a gale-force wind. Malini grabbed the scorekeeper to keep her feet planted on the ground. But the grass under her was as untrustworthy as the air around her. The ground shook. Fatima’s eight arms flailed at her sides in an effort to keep her balance. Henry’s skin peeled back from his face and hands, exposing the skeleton within. And Mara floated above the ground, stars spinning around her as if she were the nucleus of a human atom, the center of a revolving universe.
Dark clouds rolled in overhead, through the usually cloudless sky. Malini followed their path until the dark gray turned black and funneled to the grass. Lucifer. He stood in the eye of the hurricane, his black suit and blond curls flapping in the wind.
“Did you think I would go quietly?” he spat toward the sky. Lightning struck a tree in the distance behind him, its branches bursting into flame. “What was your third gift? You cheat! You’ve blocked my power to demand souls! You’ve changed the humans and forced the scales to tip.”
A crack of thunder rocked through Malini’s body.
“Your accusations are false, Lucifer,” came a booming voice. “The scorekeeper can not lie. And as for my gift, you know the rules of the challenge. The die is cast.”
Lucifer howled, skin glowing red. He pointed a finger at Malini. “What have you done with Cord?”
She didn’t answer, even when a painful tug in her chest tried to coax the words from her. Fate, Time, and Death closed ranks, placing themselves between her and devil and blocking her view of Lucifer. She adjusted her grip on the scorekeeper.
“Oh, hell!” Henry said.
All three immortals turned their backs to Lucifer and covered their heads with their arms. Malini took the hint and turned her face away. Eyes closed tight, a gust of heat blasted into her back, blowing her hair into her face. For a solid minute, she wondered if her skin would peel off from the force. Then the storm quieted. The wind died down. She dared to open her eyes.
Fatima’s villa and the forest beyond were gone, replaced by a barren wasteland. The house was nothing but an empty shell with blown out windows.
“He nuked the place,” Mara whispered.
Fatima took a deep breath. “No worries. He’s gone. This is mine again.”
From left to right, Fatima knit her world back to the way it was. Burnt trees regrew, the lawn sprouted green, and the house returned to its former glory. The ambient light of the In Between’s sky brightened.
Malini headed down the hill toward Fate’s villa.
“Where are you going?” Fatima asked.
“To pull out Lucifer’s tapestry,” Malini said. “If he thinks that little stunt is going to scare me away, he is vastly mistaken. I’m going to predict his next move, and then I’m going to return to Sanctuary and help my team rid the world of that bastard.”
The Soulkeepers had come a long way in this battle. Malini was done grieving the loss of the future she’d dreamt for herself. She could see a new future. A new hope. And no one, not even the devil, was going to keep her from it.
Book Club Discussion Questions
1. There were several ways God could have dealt with Lucifer’s tirade over Fatima’s role in Dane’s transformation. Why do you think God issued the challenge?
2. If the scorekeeper were real, how do you think the scales would look right now?
3. Are there things in your life that remind you of Elysium? Discuss.
4. Lucifer does great evil by disguising it as good. Which do you think is worse, someone who does wrong publicly and gets away with it or someone who disguises their wrong doing? Why?
5. After everything she’d been through, why do you think it was so difficult for Katrina to admit she was addicted to Elysium? Do you see a comparison to The Soulkeepers’ resistance to leave Eden?
6. If you were imprisoned by Lucifer in the way Abigail was, what would be the hardest part for you?
7. Both Lucifer and God use illusion when appearing before humans. How are their illusions the same or different? Why?
8. On a couple of occasions, the Soulkeepers use items gained by sinful means (Dane, the RV, Ethan’s money). Gideon calls the group out on it, but Malini thinks their actions are for the greater good. What do you think?
9. Do you think the Soulkeepers did the right thing telling their families the truth? Do you think they should have done so earlier?
10. At the end of the book, Malini says that sometimes humans are at their best when things are at their worst. Do you believe this? Why or why not.
The Last Soulkeeper: The Soulkeepers Series, Book 6
Copyright © G.P. Ching 2013, 2014
Published by Carpe Luna, Ltd., P.O. Box 5932, Bloomington, IL 61701
www.carpeluna.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author or publisher.
First Edition: March 2014
eISBN: 978-1-940675-01-5
Cover art by Steven Novak.
www.novakillustration.com
Formatting by Polgarus Studio.
www.polgarusstudio.com
v. 3.0
“It is close at hand—a day of darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and blackness. Like dawn spreading across the mountains, a large and mighty army comes, such as never was in ancient times nor ever will be in ages to come.”
-Joel 2:1-2
Chapter 1
The Replacement
Auriel needed to feed. The torturous ache in her gut was only made worse by the scent of six humans, bloated with blood and sitting just a talon’s strike away, hunkered over the conference room table at Harrington Enterprises. If it weren’t for Lucifer’s looming presence, she’d have stripped the flesh off any one of them before her victim had time to scream. But Lucifer, otherwise known as CEO Milton Blake, was running a tight ship these days, galvanized by Cord’s continued absence. She’d witnessed his wrath enough times to know she would not willingly be on the receiving end of it, and at the moment, she could sense his fury brewing.
The dark one drummed his fingers at the head of the table, obviously annoyed. The heat of his soulless interior, the part of him connected to Hell, had passed the barrier of his skin and raised the temperature in the room several degrees. Even Auriel was uncomfortably hot. The human participants sported red faces and wet spots under the pits of their arms.
While Auriel hated the business world, she’d learned a few things about Harrington’s operation. The purpose of this meeting was for the Harrington department heads to update Lucifer on the progress of their respective divisions. It was also their only chance to request more personnel or funding. Lucifer had come to rely on these meetings in Cord’s absence. The human employees outnumbered the Watchers and were far more motivated to achieve success in their petty, limited lives. Unfortunately, the news today wasn’t improving Lucifer’s mood.
This was war. God had challenged Lucifer for human hearts. Six temptations versus six gifts, winner takes Earth for one thousand years. Lucifer had already cast three temptations: affliction, ignorance, and terror. In response, the Great Oppressive Deity had gifted wisdom, understanding, and a third gift she hadn’t been able to interpret yet. Lucifer had been in the lead since the inception of the challenge … that is, until that last, mysterious gift. Somehow, God had taken Cord—at least Lucifer thought He had—and with him Lucifer’s control over
his army of Watchers. The last gift was more than Cord’s undoing though. She could feel it in the air. The humans changed in a way she couldn’t put her finger on that day. Now, for the first time, the scorekeeper’s scales tilted slightly in God’s favor.
Auriel had worked hard to fill Cord’s shoes. Too hard. But, just like Lucifer, she couldn’t be in more than one place at a time, and the Watchers were growing too used to eating whomever they pleased whenever they pleased. If she and Lucifer couldn’t get control of the Watchers, they would be at risk of losing this challenge. Auriel didn’t want to think about what might become of her then.
“The problem isn’t with demand, Mr. Blake,” Mr. Adams said, loosening his tie against the heat. “We are moving more Elysium than ever. The problem is with the financials. We’ve given away too many pills. People are hoarding them and selling them on the black market. Meanwhile, my department is on the verge of bankruptcy.”
A tooth-baring frown contorted Lucifer’s mouth. “Why would people buy them on the black market and not from Harrington?”
Adams dabbed his temple with a tissue. “The distribution channels.” He paused as if he thought the reasons were obvious. “Since the, er, anti-Elysium movement and the demon invasion, many of the doctors and hospitals we’ve worked with in the past won’t sell the drug anymore for reasons of conscience.”
Auriel inconspicuously wheeled her chair away from Lucifer under the guise of adjusting her boot. This wasn’t going to be pretty.
“Reasons of conscience?” His voice, barely a whisper, held the promise of menace. “What business are you in, Adams?”
“The pharmaceutical business, sir,” Adams said.
“Ah yes, we sell drugs for profit.” Lucifer nodded. “I don’t recall hanging out a shingle promoting our social consciousness. Who should take Elysium?”
“Elysium is prescribed for the treatment and management of the latest strain of bird flu,” Adams recited.
“Blah, blah, blah.” Lucifer made a duck face with his hand, opening and closing his fingers to mock Adams. “Everyone should take Elysium. Every man, woman, and child should be popping the stuff three times per day. I don’t care if they need it. I don’t care if it helps or hurts them. But I do care that they pay. They must all pay.”
“But the doctors—”
Lucifer slammed a fist on the table and leaned forward until his nose was centimeters from Adams’s. “Are you mentally impaired?”
“No—”
“Sell it on the street, you idiot. If the money is flowing on the black market, then you control the black market. And if doctors and hospitals won’t sell Elysium, perhaps you could make things more difficult for them. Deny them Harrington Security. Let the demons eat them.”
Auriel had to stop herself from cheering. This was the Lucifer she knew and loved, all-powerful and merciless.
“Yeah, about dat,” Ted Kowalski interrupted in his thick Chicagoan accent. The man’s corpulent body stressed the fabric of his white dress shirt, brown tie askew and bald head beading with sweat. “I’m not sure dat’s the best strategy at this juncture. I think we oughta scrap the Demon Eradication System.”
“What did you say?” Lucifer asked.
Sweat rolled from Kowalski’s hairline to the round hump of his cheek. “I think it’s time we phased out Harrington’s Demon Eradication Systems. The things don’t work. I been puttin’ out fires for weeks. People are dying ‘cause they trust in this product, and it’s a lemon. Harrington’s getting a black eye over this one. We’ll be lucky to get out before the lawsuits hit.”
Lucifer glared, lips peeling back from his teeth in an expression that couldn’t be confused for a smile. “What department do you run, Kowalski?”
The man shifted in his chair, eyes darting around the room like a drowning man searching for a saving branch. None were offered. “Er, public relations.”
“Public relations.” Lucifer stood, leaning forward to plant his fingertips on the table. “I seem to recall the function of your department is to manipulate the public perception of our product.”
Kowalski’s jaw dropped. “We don’t manipulate folks. We just manage the spread of information to the public.”
“And why aren’t you spreading the news that the eradication systems work?” Lucifer hissed. Auriel straightened in her chair at the foreboding sound.
The man rubbed his scruffy chin with his thumb and forefinger. “‘Cause. They. Don’t.”
Silence. The other department heads froze in their seats. Lucifer strode around the table until he was standing next to Kowalski, the hip of his khaki trousers leaning against the table. “I am not paying you to be honest, Kowalski.”
Kowalski’s mouth bent into a frown, and his breath began to whistle in his throat. The nervous wheeze crept through his pseudo-confident exterior. He swallowed. “I ain’t your patsy, Mr. Blake. I know what you’re doing. I ain’t gonna take the blame when the law comes down on us for this.”
“You’re not the man for the job, eh?” Lucifer said, eyes narrowing.
“I guess not.”
Lucifer glared and leaned forward. Auriel knew what he was doing but suppressed her laugh. It wouldn’t do to distract him. The dark one was allowing the man to glimpse who he really was, to see Hell through the window of his pupils. The wheezing grew louder. Kowalski coughed, his face turning the color of borscht before his hands began to flail at his sides.
“I think he’s choking,” Lucifer said calmly.
Kowalski slapped the table, airless, throaty grunts coming from his head.
Mrs. Anderson, vice president of human resources, looked up from her page of notes and slowly processed what was happening. “Maybe try the Heimlich?” she said slowly. She didn’t move from her chair.
“I think he has asthma,” Marketing chimed in. “Maybe we should call 911.”
Lucifer didn’t respond. No one reached for the phone.
Kowalski scratched at his ruby throat, eyes bugging and tongue extending from his mouth. A dying fish. He flopped to the floor, tipping over his chair in the process, and twitched on the low pile carpeting.
“Ms. Grimswald,” Lucifer said to the mousy-haired secretary taking notes in the corner.
“Yes?”
“Please make a note that there is a position open in public relations, effective immediately.”
“Yes, s-sir,” the woman stuttered.
Lucifer spread his hands and addressed the room. “Meeting dismissed.” He winked at Auriel. “Ms. Thomson, can you stay and help me deliver Mr. Kowalski to the nearest hospital?”
“Of course, Mr. Blake,” Auriel said, grinning at the piece of meat now unconscious on the floor. The others rose from the table and filed from the room. No one even looked back to see what had become of Ted Kowalski.
As soon as the conference room door closed, Auriel begged Lucifer with her eyes.
“My gift to you.” Lucifer motioned toward Kowalski.
“Thank you, My Lord,” she said, before pouncing on the body and using a talon to strip a bit of flesh from his neck. “His heart is still beating.”
“You deserve the best, my pet. You’ve served me well these weeks.”
She nodded, slurping in the next strip.
“I fear we may never recover Cord,” Lucifer said, “and we can no longer afford to wait for him to return.”
Auriel nodded. Finally. She thought he would never admit they’d lost him for good. “Then he is dead.”
“It appears so.”
She wiped the back of her hand across her bloody lips. “The Soulkeepers are behind this. Call Malini’s soul to you and rip the truth from her filthy mouth.” Auriel bared her fangs.
Lucifer scowled, turning his back to her as if he had a secret to keep. But then, Lucifer always had secrets. It was not her place to know or ask about his reasons, and she was smart enough not to press the issue.
“It is done, Auriel. He is dead. We must name another.”
“
Who shall we call? If only Mordechai or Turrel were still with us, what an awesome power we would make.” She licked her lips.
Lucifer growled. “But they are not. No, the one we call forth must be supreme in his depravity. Intelligent and ruthless.”
Auriel stopped eating and pointed a bloody talon in his direction. “You have someone in mind.”
“More than one someone.”
“Who?”
“The Wicked Brethren.”
“I have not seen or heard of the Wicked Brethren in decades. They’ve gone their own way. Haven’t lived in Nod in millennia. Never followed the quotas. What makes you think you can rein them in?”
“Because I hold their dark hearts in my fist,” Lucifer snapped, balling his hand in front of her face.
Touchy, touchy. Auriel backed off immediately. The Wicked Brethren were a family group of six brothers, angels that fell with Lucifer and killed brutally in the early days. Made Watchers like the others, the brethren claimed one critical difference; they paid allegiance to each other and no one else, not even Lucifer. Each had come to serve a particular vice in the human world. Over the centuries, three had met their end, victims of the urges that drove them. The other three had stayed rogue, the last she’d heard, living and feeding on villagers in rural Romania. Lucifer had allowed it to this point, Auriel supposed, because the brethren had a nasty habit of impulsivity that made them poor candidates for close living.