by Elise Marion
“Well,” he said, raising his flask. “Here’s to you, podna. Here’s to hoping that someday, I’ll figure out the whole fucking point.”
Tipping the flask, he poured a good measure over the dirt, then pressed it to his lips, taking a long gulp.
Turning away from the cold, gray headstone inscribed with his friend’s name and dates of birth and death, he turned and resumed his walk.
Micah came awake when a swift kick to the bottom of his foot jolted him. A snore broke off on a snort and he shot upright, searching for the source of the disturbance.
His muscles protested the swift movement, having become stiff because of his position. He’d fallen asleep in his chair again.
With a groan, he swiveled his legs so that they no longer dangled over the chair’s arm. His calves and feet tingled as blood rushed back into them. Leaning against the headrest, he ran a hand over his bristled jaw and reached for the mason jar he kept on the side table.
The eyes boring into him burned with disapproval, but he ignored Reniel, bringing the container to his lips. The pain was at its most acute in the morning. Better to start getting drunk now so he could numb it.
Scowling, he opened his eyes and peered into the jar. All he could see was its empty interior and the blurred figure of Reniel standing in front of him.
“What did you do with my hooch?” he growled, lowering the glass.
Reniel crossed his arms over a chest almost as large as Micah’s. “I need you sober.”
Slamming the empty glass aside, he gripped the arms of his chair and hefted himself up. His muscles screamed in protest, but he ignored them.
“You get me how you get me,” he retorted. “You don’t get to dictate my state of awareness. What the hell do you want?”
“You’ve had enough time to wallow in your self-pity. The time has come to move forward. Is Addison ready?”
Micah lumbered toward the trunk where he kept his stash of moonshine jars, finding it empty. He grunted, turning to glare at the warrior angel who was supposed to be his boss. He hadn’t exactly been feeling very subservient lately.
“How should I know?” he muttered. “Listen, Ren, if you don’t want me makin’ the misère, you’ll gimme my hooch back.”
“No more alcohol,” Reniel replied, remaining firm. “Now get up and make yourself presentable.”
He glanced down at the rumpled clothing he’d slept in all night. “Why? You expectin’ some company?”
“No, but you are.”
Just as he spoke, the figure of a teenage boy appeared in the doorway. Micah frowned when he recognized Elian—a very powerful Naphil and something of a prodigy. His parents were friends with Jack’s. In fact, the Bennetts’ first mission as Guardians had been protecting the boy from Eligos. For some reason, the Great Duke of Hell had wanted to get his hands on Elian, and had even gone so far as to kidnap him. His presence here baffled Micah.
Elian stood tall like his father, but had yet to gain any manly bulk. The boy was skinny as a reed, with sienna skin and honey-brown eyes that matched his mother’s. Dark curls framed his head and face in a wild Afro.
“Hey,” he grunted, never tearing his eyes away from the phone in his hand.
Typical teenager.
“Why’s the kid here?” Micah grumbled, lumbering toward the kitchen.
Just then, several others materialized behind him, all with familiar faces. Other Guardians that Micah had worked with at some time or another.
Reniel appeared at his side.
“I’m calling in reinforcements,” the angel declared. “Since you won’t help Addison, I’ve brought in people who will.”
Chapter Three: The A-Team
Addison had just drifted back to sleep when her door swung open and crashed against the wall, jolting her to full wakefulness. Brushing the hair out of her eyes, she blinked, clearing her vision to reveal Micah. Bare-chested, he held a toothbrush clenched between his teeth. His hair still glistened wet from showering, and the jeans he’d just pulled on were unbuttoned, showing the waistband of his white boxers—reminding her of something out of a Calvin Klein ad. She lowered her eyes and gritted her teeth. There was nothing sexy about the way he’d been treating her, and that reminder was enough to keep her from wanting a second look.
“Cocka-doodle-doo, cher,” he mumbled around the toothbrush. “Get that tight butt of yours out of bed. Oh, and make yourself pretty. We got company.”
Sure enough, just before he left and closed the door behind him, she heard the low rumble of voices coming from the kitchen. One of them sounded like Reniel.
She supposed she should have known this day would come. Reniel would only let them wallow in their grief for so long. Life had to go on, and she still held the status of ring-bearer. She still had a job to do.
Leaving the bed, she stretched the lingering fatigue from her muscles. Once Micah had vacated the bathroom, she made quick work of showering, brushing her teeth, and getting dressed. She piled her damp hair on top of her head in a topknot and forewent makeup.
Entering the kitchen, shock halted her steps when she found not just Reniel, but four others she’d never met before. Gathered around the table—covered in bags of beignets and to-go cups of café au lait—they talked and laughed together as if they’d been friends their entire lives.
One of them, she recognized. Elian Rodriguez had grown at least two inches since the last time she’d seen him, but remained otherwise unchanged.
Beside him stood a petite girl with freckles and jet-black hair streaked with strands of purple and pink. At her side towered a large Creole with a heavy shelf of a brow, thick, black eyebrows, swarthy skin, and a powerful build. Rounding out the group was a blond-haired, blue eyed, average-looking guy who would have looked more at home in a library with his sleek glasses and bookish demeanor.
“Ah, here she is,” Reniel said, giving her a bright smile. He seemed genuinely glad to see her.
She offered him a tentative smile back and approached the table. “Hey.”
They acknowledged and returned her greeting, then everyone went back to devouring their beignets.
“Breakfast?” Reniel offered. “We brought plenty.”
The smell of coffee with chicory and the fried pastries caused the hunger gnawing in her stomach to increase.
“That would be great, thanks.” She moaned in delight as a bite of beignet melted in her mouth. “God, that’s good. Since Micah stopped cooking, I haven’t had a decent meal.”
“My apologies, cher,” Micah drawled, swaggering into the kitchen. He’d buttoned his pants and donned a red Budweiser T-shirt that stretched to its limits to accommodate his huge shoulders and arms. “I hadn’t realized I was a short-order cook.”
She scowled, avoiding his gaze and going back to her breakfast. She would not let him ruin her day.
“Now that everyone’s here, let’s get down to business,” Reniel said, breaking the tension. “First, I’ll introduce everyone. I’m sure you all know this is Addison Monroe, a very special Naphil who has been chosen to bear the Seal of Solomon.”
She met their gazes, tried to look friendly, but the weight of grief kept the corners of her mouth turned down and her brow creased.
“Addison, you already know Elian Rodriguez, also a Naphil. Allow me to introduce you to Antoine.” He indicated the large Creole. “This is Alice,” he said of the tiny girl at his side. Which only left the blond. “And this is Derek. Derek and Alice are Guardians, and Antoine is an Oracle. I have recruited them to act as a team of sorts. Their job is to assist you in locating and dispatching the remaining ten demons. Their knowledge and experience will prove an invaluable asset. Don’t be afraid to rely on them.”
“I’m beginnin’ to feel left out, Ren,” Micah grumbled around a mouthful of pastry. “You didn’t introduce me.”
Alice leveled a glare at him, her bright blue eyes further enhanced by dark, black eyeshadow and matching liner.
“We’re all very f
amiliar with you, Micah,” she scoffed.
He cast her a heavy-lidded glance and smirked. “Some of us more than others, huh, Alice?”
“Oh, that’s it,” she grumbled, taking a step toward Micah with murder flashing in her eyes.
Addison gasped when a red-orange ball of fire appeared in Alice’s hand, flickering with destructive promise. Micah didn’t seem fazed. He merely smirked knowingly at the girl, as if he’d known she would react that way.
With a wave of his hand, Reniel doused the flame—no doubt realizing that she intended to incinerate Micah with it.
Addison’s insides burned with curiosity as her gaze flitted back and forth between the two. Had they been an item at some point? That shouldn’t have surprised her. Micah would screw anything with breasts, and had never struck her as the commitment type. Based on Alice’s reaction, she’d be willing to bet the oversized Cajun had broken a heart or two in his day.
“Enough,” Reniel commanded, his voice booming and causing the walls of the small apartment to shake. “You will leave your grudges and past squabbles at the door. You must learn to rely on each other so that you can fight together without fighting among yourselves.”
“Sorry,” Alice said, looking contrite.
“A thousand pardons,” Micah quipped, taking a big gulp of his coffee. “Don’t know why you called in the A-Team, anyhow. Me and the little peekon got things covered.”
“Correction,” Addison muttered. “I’ve had things covered while he’s making a mess of things. You wanna tell them about your little succubus friend?”
Antoine perked up at that. “Succubus?”
“As in, the daughters of Lilith?” Derek added.
“Not sure whose daughters they are, but one of them has been working as a stripper at my job for years,” she replied. “She took Micah behind a curtain for a little private dance action last night and almost killed him.”
Micah snorted. “Ain’t no succubus stripper gettin’ the best of me.”
“She certainly seemed to be getting a lot of you last night.”
“Again, I am going to insist that you cease bickering,” Reniel said, looking as if he would blow a gasket any second. “Now, did you at least get a chance to interrogate the succubus before you dispatched her?”
“Yes,” she answered. “One of the ten—I’m assuming this Lilith you mentioned—sent her after us. She’s holed up in the penthouse at the Ritz-Carlton on Canal Street with at least one of the others and a gang of lesser demons. By the way, if someone wants to tell me who the hell Lilith is, I’d really appreciate it.”
“Lilith is the mother of thousands of demons,” Derek said, adjusting his glasses. “Her daughters are known as the lilim, or succubi—demons of lust. In centuries past, she has also been responsible for the deaths of countless infants, in exchange for the lives of her demon and Naphil children, killed in the war between Heaven and Hell.”
“So, she’s a slutty demon who’s a baby mama for half the demons in Hell and probably a ton of humans,” Addison surmised. “And that makes her good enough to be one of the ten?”
“Do not underestimate her,” Derek warned, his tone grave. “Her abilities range far beyond those of breeding and producing demons. She is, by far, one of the most powerful demons in existence.”
“And you’re strong, but nowhere near ready to face her,” Reniel added. “Thus the reason for Elian’s involvement.”
The boy had been silent up until now, so Addison started in surprise when he opened his mouth. Not only had he grown in height, his voice had deepened a bit, as well.
“Welcome to Naphil boot camp,” he quipped, flashing her a grin.
“I’ve heard you’re kind of a bad ass,” she said.
He laughed, and his voice cracked a bit. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be one, too.”
“Right,” Micah muttered, popping another beignet into his big mouth. “I get why the kid is here. What the hell use are the rest of you?”
Antoine’s dark eyes glittered when he set them on Micah, and she had a feeling if the two ever came to blows, it would be one epic fight—even with Micah’s advantage.
“While you drink yourself under the table,” he growled, his voice thick with an accent Addison couldn’t quite place, “I’ll do a little recon.”
Micah grunted. “You wouldn’t make it past Lilith’s front door.”
Antoine grinned, transforming his face into something youthful and approachable. He didn’t appear nearly so intimidating when he smiled like that.
“That’s the good thing about being an Oracle, with a gift other than being able to hammer through bricks,” he retorted. “I don’t have to break down walls when I can see straight through them.”
Ignoring Micah’s flared nostrils and clenched jaw, he turned to Addison.
“Is there a quiet place I can work alone?”
“Of course. You can use … my room. First door on the right.”
As he made his way there, she fought to avoid Micah’s gaze. She’d seen his fists clenching from the corner of her eye when she’d called Jack’s room hers. It hadn’t exactly felt good coming out, but the time had come for both of them to face the fact that Jack was gone.
“We’re going to need a place to train,” Elian said. “Some open space, preferably where no one can see.”
“I know just the place,” Micah replied. “We won’t be bothered there.”
“Take Alice with you,” Reniel said. “She will make for good practice with Addison.”
“Oh, she’s good for a lot of things. Ain’t you, Alice?”
Brushing past him with a rough shove, Alice reached into her back pocket and produced a pack of cigarettes.
“I’m going outside for a smoke,” she threw over her shoulder. “Someone let me know when it’s time to go.”
“Smoke in the truck,” Micah replied, reaching for his cowboy hat and keys. “This train’s leaving the station in T-minus sixty seconds. Let’s go, cher.”
Grabbing one last beignet, Addison followed him, Elian, and Alice toward the front door.
“I’ll have some material for you to read over when you get back,” Derek said when she passed him.
“Material?” she asked, pausing in the doorway.
He inclined his head, studying her intently from behind his glasses. “Fighting demons is intellectual as well as physical. You have several years’ worth of education to make up for—things we’re all taught when we become Guardians.”
“Demons 101,” she muttered as she made her exit. “Great.”
Chapter Four: Up the Bayou
Jack gritted his teeth and ignored the painful burn in his shoulders. Apparently, pushups hurt even after one had crossed over into the afterlife. Sweat dripped from his forehead and neck, stinging his eyes. However, he persisted, determined to keep his body honed as well as his mind. He didn’t know how this whole ‘going back to the land of the living after death’ thing worked, but he was determined not to spend the rest of his life in this eternal purgatory.
Rolling onto his back, he launched into a set of sit-ups, never missing a beat. His abs clenched and relaxed, straining with the effort as he banged out ten, then twenty, then thirty. All the while, his mind turned Michael’s question over again and again.
Why are you here?
Why, indeed?
He’d reviewed his memories of the night he’d died countless times, trying to find some clue or hint as to how he had ended up here.
They had just taken possession of the Seal of Solomon, the first step in completing this mission against Eligos and his ten. He had found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It didn’t matter that he and Addison had only just started getting to know each other. He’d known she was the one. They’d had their entire lives ahead of them for getting acquainted. There would have been plenty of time once this mission had been completed.
So then … why was he here?
It made no sense
. Yet, Michael seemed to expect a specific answer from him. He remained at a loss, but still determined not to stay here any longer than he had to.
The familiar sound of Michael teleporting into the room froze him mid sit-up. Falling back onto his elbows, he watched the angel appear through an open portal and walk toward him, determination in his stride.
“Good morning, Jack,” he said.
He groaned as he came to his feet; yet, the soreness of his muscles made him feel alive. It reminded him that even though he had technically died, he wasn’t fully dead. He still had a chance.
“Hey, Michael,” he replied, hoping that keeping things amiable would put him in the angel’s good graces.
“Are you ready to talk?”
“Sure. Let’s do it.”
A hint of a smirk curved Michael’s lips, and he arched one dark eyebrow. “Someone’s in a good mood today.”
He laughed, running a hand over his head and finding it dry. In fact, he smelled like he’d just showered and the sweat had evaporated. He supposed there must be a few perks to being here.
“Well, I figured being angry wouldn’t solve anything,” he replied. “It definitely won’t get me out of here any faster. So, let’s talk.”
“Have you thought about the answer to my question?”
Jack folded his hands behind his back. “Day and night.”
Not that there existed a difference between day and night here.
“And? Why are you here?”
He took a deep breath, and hoped his answer would stick. After his little workout, he was raring to go, and anxious to get home.
“I made a mistake,” he said, spitting out the first answer that came to mind. “Getting involved with Addison. I was supposed to protect her, and I took advantage of the situation by becoming involved with her physically.”
Michael frowned, and he knew he’d messed up.
“Do you, or do you not, exercise the right of free will?”
Jack nodded. “Of course.”
“Your involvement with the Chosen One is irrelevant. You developed feelings for her—whether they were lust or love is none of my concern. She returned those feelings, and you both acted on them of your own free will. That fact does not change anything as relates to your mission.”