by Ching, G. P.
“One managed by the Devil,” Jacob said.
“I never believed you before. I wanted it to be innocent.”
“I know.”
“I left without getting the brand. I haven’t taken Elysium in three days.”
“I thought you were dead when we found you.”
“Me too. I let him find me. I knew how to avoid them, I did. I wanted to get caught.”
“We can help you.” Jacob placed a hand on her shin.
Katrina nodded, eyes pleading. “I’m ready to get better. I want my life back. I want my soul back.”
He reached for her hand and carefully hugged her brittle body. “I’m so glad, Katrina. I’ve really been worried about you, but there are two things you’ve got to know.”
“What?”
“First, once you are well enough, you need to go back home to Paris. Uncle John and Aunt Carolyn have been tortured since you left. Think about it. It’s the apocalypse. They probably assume you’re dead. I know I did.”
“Fair.”
“Second, you didn’t hallucinate Cord.”
“Huh?”
“Cord,” Jacob called. The angel appeared behind his right shoulder. “He’s an angel now, and he’s helping us.”
Katrina took one look at Cord’s glowing body, his white wings outstretched, and promptly passed out again.
Jacob sighed. “I think that went well.”
* * * * *
In the far corner of the room, Dane bounced baby Hope on his lap, holding her up under her shoulders. She loved to play this game. He’d sing to her, a song his mother used to sing to him, something about riding on a horse and falling off. When he got to the falling off part, he’d straighten his legs and gently roll her backward so she could see the world upside down. He always made sure to hold her firmly, to keep her safe. He didn’t want anything to happen to Hope.
It was more than a familial sense of protection that made him passionate about her well-being. Malini had confided in him that Hope was not only a Soulkeeper, but also a Healer. Healers were rare. The rarest of all Soulkeepers. There was usually only one on the entire Earth at a given time.
Dane was the only one besides Malini who knew Hope’s real secret: her existence could mean Malini’s impending death. Which was why he’d waited until now to do what Malini had asked him to do, to use his power to try to learn more about Hope’s. No one could know. Knowledge of Hope’s power might mean either a false hope or a source of anxiety for the Soulkeepers. After all they’d been through, they didn’t need either of those things.
He glanced over to make sure Jacob and Cord were still distracted with Katrina and then brought his knees up so that he was eye to eye with baby Hope. “I’m going to try to do this as gently as possible, sweetheart, but to be honest, I’ve never had it done to me, and I have no idea if it hurts.”
Hand on the bare skin of her arms, Dane cast his power into her. On his end, it always reminded him of fishing, that moment when the pole passes over your head, and the line goes out until the lure plunks into the water. There was a toss at the beginning on his part, and then the other person’s power would hook onto his own, and he would reel it in. Only, this cast didn’t catch on anything. Hope’s ice-blue eyes stared up at him innocently, seeming oblivious to what he was trying to do.
“You don’t have a Soulkeeper power inside of you,” he whispered, eyebrows sinking over his narrowed eyes.
Hope focused on his face and kicked her feet.
Dane glanced up again toward Katrina. It looked as if she was asleep, and Cord and Jacob were headed toward him.
“We’re on laundry detail. Let us know if Katrina wakes up?” Jacob said.
“Sure.” Dane nodded, shifting Hope into the crook of his arm.
The two disappeared through the staircase to the rectory, lifting the overstuffed bin of Watcher-blood-soaked clothes. As soon as they were out of sight, Dane shuffled to Malini’s bed. An overturned milk crate served as a nightstand and was covered in odds and ends, but on top, as if it were left for him, was the red stone. He hooked a finger into the leather strap and returned with Hope to his own bed.
Nestling into his pillow, he tucked Hope into the crook of his arm. Her eyes drooped like she might fall asleep.
“Hey, baby girl. Not quite yet, okay. I want you to look at something.” He dangled the red stone from his fingers in front of her face. When her blue eyes locked onto the red, he relaxed and gave himself over to the pull of crimson.
Red washed through the room, solidifying around him in shingles of reflective glass. He gripped Hope more tightly as he washed away in the red tide, but somehow, when he landed on the other side, his arms were empty. A stone veranda came into focus, followed by the face of a beautiful young woman seated at a table, a cup of tea in her hands.
“Are you?” he asked.
“Hope.”
Dane stared at her blankly, the unsettling blue eyes, the golden-brown hair, the face that reminded him of Gideon’s. He pulled out a chair across from her and allowed his knees to give out. It was her, really her, all grown up.
“Are you inside of Hope on the other side? Are you her soul?”
Hope tilted her head to the side, frowning. She entangled her fingers on the table in front of her, face twisted as if truly disturbed.
“You can’t speak? I mean, beyond your name.” Dane rubbed his forehead, trying to puzzle her out.
She shrugged.
Dane leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin. “Wait a minute, Malini said you are the part of Hope that is eternal, the equivalent of her guide.” He glanced toward the sky, racking his brain. “But I’ve met Malini’s guide. He only answered my questions about the future. Is that how you are?”
A smile spread across Hope’s face, and she straightened in her chair, hands trembling excitedly.
“Let’s test the theory,” Dane said. “First, the obvious. Will baby Hope, the one on Earth, become a Healer?”
Hope glanced toward the sky, and Dane wondered if she would read the clouds like Malini’s guide had, but instead flower petals fell from the light above and landed on the table. Hope scanned the pattern.
“Y-yes,” she said carefully, as if she were just learning to manipulate her lips into words. “If … the Soulkeepers can connect us. If you fail, she will die, and I will cease to exist.”
“Why?”
Hope looked at him mournfully.
“Oh, that isn’t about the future, is it? How about this? Why will baby Hope die in the future if I don’t connect you to her?”
She smiled sadly as more blossoms rained down. “My soul is fractured. Part of me stayed here when my mother came that should have moved on. Eventually, the baby will outgrow the portion left inside of her, and this will result in her death unless you can reconnect me with her.”
“How will I do that?”
“You won’t. Another will release me.”
“How will you be released?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. “I can’t see it clearly.”
Dane rubbed his forehead. “Healers can’t see their own futures. Malini has the same problem. It must be a difficult fate to know everyone’s future except your own.”
Hope ran her hands through the scattered flower petals on the table.
Cautiously, he reached for her, his hand landing on hers. He attempted to cast his power into her, but nothing happened.
“Damn,” he said. “I guess my physical body isn’t here, only my consciousness. I can’t use my power to get you out of here and back in your body because my power is still in my body.” Dane retracted his hand. “Which means, Cheveyo won’t be able to get you out either.”
Large blue eyes blinked at him.
“And I can’t bring your body here. I tried.”
She nodded, tears welling over her lower lids.
“I’m not going to give up, Hope. Malini and I will find a way,” Dane said. He squeezed her hand. As Dan
e said his goodbyes and allowed himself to fall back into his body, he wanted desperately to be telling the truth.
Chapter 12
The Fifth Curse
Lucifer poured a glass of scotch at the wall-bar in his high-rise penthouse, swirling the thick amber liquid in the bottom of the glass. The alcohol itself did nothing for him, but a man had killed another man for this particular bottle, and the residue of sin pleased his palate. Murder begot an acrid aftertaste you didn’t find with other indiscretions.
“The brethren are late,” Auriel said from the living room.
Buzzkill. Lucifer rolled his eyes. Her demands for attention were increasingly bothersome. “Relax, Auriel. The brethren are stepping off the elevator now and will be here momentarily.”
As if on cue, the door opened and three massive bodies filed into the room. Damien, in his suit and tie, crossed to Lucifer to shake his hand in a sickeningly human gesture. What self-respecting demon shook hands? If Damien weren’t uniquely qualified for his position, he’d snub the fallen angel. How he hated aligning himself with the brethren. He would ingest them all and be done with it if he could be in more than one place at a time. Damn his limitations. For now, he’d have to use these three for his purposes.
Unsurprisingly, Asher walked directly to Auriel without saying hello, and Levi sneered from the doorway, no doubt coveting the grandeur of his penthouse. “Come in, Levi,” Lucifer said. “I’d like to start with you.”
“As you should, My Lord. I have important news to share with you.”
Of course he did. Levi was only happy when the entire conversation revolved around him. Lucifer expected as much from the embodiment of envy.
“Please, Levi, share your latest wisdom with us.”
Tossing the waves of his dark hair from his eyes, Levi stepped to the center of the living room and spread his hands. “I thwarted an attempt of a Soulkeeper to obtain supplies this week.”
“Excellent,” Damien said.
“But they have a secret weapon,” Levi said. “An angel.”
Lucifer raised his eyebrows, suddenly more interested in the conversation. “An angel? Are you sure?”
“I fought him, hand to hand. He slipped into the light and evaded me.”
“Who was it? Do you remember the name?” Lucifer asked. A messenger angel was a bad enough foe, but if God dispatched an archangel to aid the Soulkeepers, the situation was exceedingly more complex. Archangels wielded unparalleled power. An archangel had tossed him and the other brethren from Heaven.
“The angel looked familiar, but I can’t be sure.”
“Who did you think it looked like?”
“He looked like … The resemblance was…” Levi paused, and then removed a disc of stone from his pocket. “See for yourself,” he said. He passed a hand over the disc and an image of the angel appeared life-sized before them.
Auriel gasped so loudly it was almost a scream. “Cord.”
Lucifer could feel Hell rising within him. Heat sizzled through his skin, reddening it, and echoes of the souls of the damned pounded behind his ears. “How is this possible?” he hissed.
“The third gift,” Auriel said. “We never knew exactly what it was, only that it pitched the scales. God flipped him.”
“SHUT UP!” Lucifer snapped, pointing a finger in Auriel’s direction. “Do not say that name in front of me.” In fact, his anger was not at the name itself but at the ignorance of her words. The Great Oppressor hadn’t just given the Soulkeepers Cord, He’d given them hope. He’d given them protection. This was the reason Lucifer hadn’t been able to call Malini’s soul to him. The presence of an angel was the ultimate metaphysical protection and would block any attempts of he or his Watchers to divine their location. No doubt, Cord’s talents were being employed to obtain the supplies he’d worked so hard to keep from the Soulkeepers.
Lucifer scowled at the four faces that stared at him. He pointed at the one he considered his second. “Damien, tell me some good news.”
“Your mark is a huge success. Earnings on Elysium are up as are earnings on Harrington Security systems. Over forty percent of the registered population has obtained the brand, and it is simply a matter of time until the rest fall to us. One hundred percent of business owners and all law enforcement still working in the field have adopted the mark. Even better, as Levi said, we’ve successfully thwarted the Soulkeepers’ attempt to obtain supplies. I suspect our policies will be the demise of the Soulkeepers before long, and we will eventually win this challenge.”
Lucifer groaned. “You are a fool. The scales barely tip in my favor.”
“How is that possible?” Levi asked.
“Because they have Cord, you imbecile. And another gift has been given, the fourth.”
Asher took his hands off Auriel long enough to ask, “What gift?”
“I don’t know exactly. The Great Oppressor’s gifts are often insidious, but I would guess that the Soulkeepers are eating well tonight.”
Levi sneered.
“We are still in the lead, but I am running out of cards and this next play has to count.”
“What will the next curse be?” Auriel asked.
Pacing to the windows, Lucifer coupled his hands behind his back. “You say over forty percent and counting have my seal?”
Damien nodded. “Yes. We are overrepresented among the poor, but some of the most influential in the country have sworn allegiance to you, as well.”
“We need to secure popular opinion. Asher, what is the status of your work on the Council for the Eradication of the Unholy?”
“Pleasurable,” he purred. “Senator Bakewell is a faithful ally. The president is so afraid of the Watcher invasion he has given us carte blanche.”
“But still there is more to do.”
“Of course. Per your request, we haven’t influenced all of Congress. The president and many of the American leaders have refused your mark. There are several congressmen who even now are working to undo what we’ve done. They speak of civil liberties and freedom of enterprise.”
“I despise order,” Lucifer said. “Government is for the powerless.”
“We’ve allowed the humans to go on as they have before because a certain level of comfort is conducive to our ends.” Damien paced to the bar and poured himself a jigger of scotch without asking. Rankled, Lucifer balled his hands into fists to keep from ripping the brother’s head off. The demon sipped, closing his eyes and smiling at the flavor. “To win human hearts, you must have ultimate control. People who feel safe and free tend to grow consciences.”
Noting the shift in Lucifer’s attention, Levi piped up, “But the brands mean the humans have dedicated themselves to you. What more control is needed?” He twisted one of his many rings on his finger.
“The humans are mine today but brands can be removed.” Lucifer swirled his scotch at the bottom of his glass. “Free will is an ugly reality. We must create a world where the humans are dependent on me and me alone for their safety and security. They must credit me, not their country or their democracy, for their freedom or else we risk losing them to their own ideals. What I want is to create a government I control. The humans must turn to me for leadership. I will be their hero. I will be their king.”
“How will we win such loyalty?” Levi asked.
Lucifer grinned. “How do you feel about a run for office, Asher?”
The Watcher raised his eyebrows. “Which office?”
“President, of course. I promise you, your campaign will be fully funded.”
Asher gave a deep bow. “It would be my sincere desire to be served in this capacity.”
To be served. Lucifer chuckled at Asher’s play on words. The brother was perfect, a self-centered figurehead that would lead the country into ruin while upholding his every political whim.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Auriel place her hands on her hips, obviously jealous of Asher’s assignment. Her envy almost rivaled Levi’s. He snorted. The
re was always one whiny cog in the wheel. He’d eliminate her now if he didn’t think she’d serve a purpose in the future. Like it or not, she was powerful, and he needed every Watcher he had to win this challenge. Afterward, he could eliminate any he chose.
“But what is the curse, My Lord?” Damien demanded, bringing him back into the now. “Or is Asher’s politics punishment enough?”
Lucifer glanced around the room, fully satisfied with himself for his ingenious idea.
“The fifth temptation is anarchy. People, after all, desire nothing more than to do what they want when they want. Asher and I are going to set them free. Free to be controlled by us.”
With a flourish of his hand, talons grew from the fingertips of his right hand. He sliced into his wrist and dribbled black blood into his empty scotch glass. The wound healed, but the blood in the glass throbbed with an incorporeal heartbeat.
“You are my vessel, Asher.” He handed him the glass. “Drink this and all who hear your voice will be extremely interested in your political platform. Drink this, and you will be able to walk in the sun without losing your illusion.”
Asher nodded. “And what is my political platform, My Lord?”
“Why, you represent the Hedonic Party, and your mantra is ‘Take back what’s yours. Total freedom. No consequences.’ We will create a government of the people and for the people who have Harrington’s best interests at heart.”
“I love politics.” With a charming half smile, Asher lifted the glass as if to toast Lucifer and tossed the black blood to the back of his throat. A moment later, his smile turned to agony. He bent at the waist, a sound like a bark squeezing out of his constricting throat.
Lucifer poured another scotch at the bar, sipping the drink as he watched the macabre spectacle. In obvious pain, Asher writhed on the carpet, eyes bulging, stomach rippling from the evil at work within. The whole business was nothing short of poetic.
With one final heave, Asher’s body accepted the curse, limbs falling limply to his sides. He rolled onto his face and knees, arms useless weights. Precariously, he struggled to his feet, his illusion lapsing with the pain and effort. Black snakeskin peeked through tears of flesh at his hands and face.