The Soul's Agent

by Wendy Knight

  And felt the hair stand up on the back of my neck. My hair is super thick. So the tiny little hairs? I feel them when they rise to attention. It could only mean one thing.

  I scanned the room, biting my lip when at first I didn't find what I was looking for. It took me sweeping the entire club twice before I saw her, standing by the door. One of my parolees, Elizabeth, stood nervously, alternatively wringing her hands and motioning me frantically. Every so often, someone would come in the door and walk right through her. Good thing she wasn't paying attention.

  I glanced at Konstanz. "Work is calling. I gotta go." I slid to my feet, wondering how fun it was going to be fighting in my favorite boots.

  Konstanz frowned. "You work too much. When are you gonna sleep, girl?"

  I grinned as I backed away. "I'll sleep when I'm dead!" Hopefully. Hopefully I'll sleep when I'm dead. Unless I screw up and spend the afterlife in prison. Or, unless I don't screw up so bad, but just bad enough, and I spend the next several years of my unlivingness being someone's parolee.

  I hurried past Elizabeth, meeting her translucent eyes once, before escaping out the door and into the fresh air. "What's wrong?" I asked.

  I hid in the shadows, blending like I'd been trained to do and speaking low so no one could see me talking to myself. Because they wouldn't see Elizabeth. No, the only one who could see Elizabeth was me.

  Because Elizabeth is a ghost.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Navi

  "There are reports of activity on the coast. I think the asuwangs are hungry." Elizabeth spoke with an accent I had never been able to place. I had no idea when she'd died, only that she'd joined my army several years ago. Apparently, she'd gotten a good look at hell and decided it wasn't where she wanted to spend the rest of her life. Funny how a glimpse of fire and brimstone will do that to a ghost. She'd made some bad decisions while still alive. Not enough to send her straight to hell, but enough that she was eligible for my probation program.

  "Okay. Can you gather the others? I'll meet you there." I could already feel it pulling me—the call to protect. It was in my blood, tugging me toward danger when others ran away from it. Frustratingly, I could only fight at night. My ghosts could only come out at night. Luckily, demons only liked to play at night, too. On the bright side, it left me daytimes to have a real life.

  "I will." Elizabeth nodded and faded into the shadows.

  I started to follow, when a voice caught me from behind. Resisting the urge to swear, I dragged myself back and turned, plastering on a fake smile. "Bryson."

  "Hey. You didn't say goodbye." Was that a flirtatious smile he was giving me? Did he not realize how dangerous the situation could become if I didn't get to the coast and stop the asuwangs before they escaped into town? No, of course he didn't. Because I was very good at my job. No one here had ever heard of asuwangs. Or believed demons were real.

  "Sorry. Work calling. I gotta go." I hiked my jacket collar up like I was cold, and hoped he didn't notice that I'd come in a car with other girls who were all still inside.

  "I didn't get your number."

  I stopped, staring at him in confusion. "I didn't give you my number."

  His smile broadened.

  "Oh. Right. Konstanz? My friend inside? She's got it. You can get it from her if you'd like. I really, really have to go now." I may or may not have been bouncing like a five-year-old at Christmas.

  "Okay. Expect a text from me tomorrow."

  "Will do. See ya!" I turned, unable to resist the call any longer, and raced through the parking lot. I let the layers fall away as I ran, so fast that to anyone watching I would be a shadow, a blur in the night.

  A ghost.

  My swords, which had long, ancient names, unfolded against my back like wings. One, a golok, I had nicknamed Golly, and the other, a kalis, I'd named Kali. It was easier that way, to name them and pretend they were pets and not deadly weapons. I wished so much that I could somehow shed my clothes and have different attire replace them as I ran. My swords appeared out of nowhere, so why couldn't I have battle armor that was resistant to stains also appear out of nowhere?

  It was a bit ridiculous to fight in five-inch stiletto boots and an off-the-shoulder navy top. Just sayin'.

  The asuwangs could only enter through a rock formation that acted as some sort of gate or doorway between their sea witch's lair and my world. She and her sisters—there are nine of them, could only open the doorways at certain latitudes and longitudes throughout the world, and this was one of those places. It was under water and rose up through the sand of the beach, causing the surf to be wild and dangerous. Thankfully, it also kept most regular, non-fighting-demons-at-night people away from the area and it was hard to get to if you didn't have super speed and mega-high jumping abilities. Unfortunately, it didn't keep the asuwangs in. They could climb the rock like creepy giant spiders. Fittingly, the locals had named this place Devil's Gate, because it divided the beach and inside was hollow—that's where I made my first stand. Some say the angels, who are Death's good friends, created the gate when the doorway was first opened, calling up the mountains to help protect the humans. But the rock wasn't enough, so everywhere that a sea witch had a doorway, Death placed an Agent. That's me.

  I hit the sand but didn't slow, even when my blasted heels sank and wobbled. Totally rocked the mighty warrior thing—if by rock I meant I looked like a wounded goose. I raced past late-night yoga classes and couples on moonlight strolls and old men walking their dogs. A few of them sensed me, I could tell by the way they would tense or look up. Luckily I was a blur of the imagination or I'd have some weird questions to answer. The closer to Devil's Gate I got, the fewer people I encountered, as if they somehow sensed the danger in the area and stayed away. The huge formation loomed in the distance, stretching bigger and bigger the harder I ran. When I got within leaping distance, I jumped, felt my heels not catch like they were supposed to because they are stilettos, and had to scrabble for my grip. I flung myself onto the rocky plateau and tumbled over the other side, landing in a crouch.

  My ghosts, all thirty-three, hadn't even waited for me to get there and sing for them—my way of calling them to battle. They also hadn't waited for me to yell, "Fight!" with my swords raised. They were already locked in deadly battle with the asuwangs, which at the moment were in the form of giant, hideous beasts that looked a lot like a cross between dogs and spiders. I stuck my hands on my hips and glared, feeling left out. During the day, asuwangs could be anything. A kitty, a baby, the sweet little old lady neighbor who smiled and waved when I raced off to school. Asuwangs were shape-shifters, but at night, they were forced to return to their roots.

  And then I could hunt them.

  Many of them didn't change at all. They lived in the ocean and came out at night to feed or capture souls for their sea witch. They especially liked children. As I was also fond of children but in a completely different, not creepy way, I killed them all. The asuwangs, not the children. The children, I protected. And I—

  "Navi? Where you planning on fighting with us tonight?" I blinked, watching as Elizabeth materialized in front of me.

  Death allowed souls like Elizabeth's, and a million gazillion others, one last chance. Fight with the Agents against demons and darkness and evil, and they won't spend an eternity roasting on a spit. It seems like an easy enough choice, but apparently roasting is easy and requires little effort, and fighting, well…

  I looked out across the beach. Fighting is hard.

  Fighting is hard, and if the demons escape, I have to submit a report saying my ghosts didn't fight hard enough. Sometimes, they get pulled from the project and sent… away.

  More often, they work and fight so hard that they save their own souls.

  Then, there is Elizabeth, who was granted freedom to move on, and she didn't. She stays with me and fights, even when she doesn't have to. Actually, I wasn't sure I'd ever heard of it happening before. Elizabeth is a rarity. I'm not allowed to have favor
ites, but I do anyway. And Elizabeth is definitely one of my favorites.

  "Navi?" she prompted.

  "Yeah. Yeah, I'm coming. Sorry."

  I unsheathed Golly and Kali and sprinted across the sand. I dived after the first creature I came into contact with, swinging my blades together like giant scissors around its neck. I winced, just a little, as the tarry black blood splashed on my favorite navy shirt.

  Jesse, one of the newer ghosts, and one I had very little hope for, appeared next to me, pulling the body away to a pile with other rotting asuwang corpses. We would burn them all, when we were done. She didn't fight, but she was really good at dragging dead bodies away. It made me wonder what had gotten her in this situation in the first place.

  "Navi!" Elizabeth yelled, flinging her sword end over end through the air. I spun, ducking, as it flew over my head and pierced the dog-thing reaching for my throat. Right in the eye.

  "Nice shot!" I yelled. She rolled her eyes and turned back to the fight, her sword materializing back into her hand. These magic swords, they were nice like that.

  I whirled, slicing first with Golly and following with Kali, pulling my hands apart and cutting the creature in two. Before it fell, I moved on to the next, and then the next. My ghosts surrounded me, protecting me even though, as a flesh and blood creature, I was more powerful than all of them. I don't know if they did it to make themselves look good or because they're honestly worried about my well-being, but I liked them a lot more if I assumed the latter.

  My ghosts all had weapons of their own, similar to mine, and just as deadly despite the semi-transparency of them. Most souls don't have a clue how to fight with these things when they sign up.

  By the time they leave, they're unstoppable.

  With a scream of defeat, the asuwangs retreated, back into the ocean. Several ghosts followed, but I didn't. I don't like water and I knew how dangerous it would be. Asuwangs easily grab humans and drag them beneath the waves. They've been mistaken for sirens throughout history. They can even take the form of a beautiful woman during the day.

  "Did any get by us?" I asked, panting, bent over with my hands on my knees, swords crossed awkwardly in front of me with the ends sticking in the sand. Like I said, I'm an uber-warrior.

  "I don't believe so. They are becoming easier to control," Elizabeth said, sheathing her own swords.

  "That worries me." I finally stood, sucking in air. Yes, I had more ghosts than I'd ever had before, more willing to fight for their eternal destiny, but seven years ago, battles like this would have lasted hours, not minutes.

  "Do you think these are merely a distraction? That they are perhaps planning a bigger attack?" Elizabeth asked, staring off into the ocean.

  "Well I do now." I stood up, kicking the sand as I stuck my swords back in their sheath.

  "It could also be because the sun will come up soon." Elizabeth nodded toward the horizon in the distance. The first rays breaking over the mountains were lighting the sky.

  "Yeah. Let's go with that." I nodded. "Thank you, all, for tonight."" The others joined around us, nodding and murmuring their thanks as well.

  For as long as there have been people, there has been a fear of the dark. I've heard mothers tell their children there isn't anything in the dark that isn't there in the light.

  They are wrong.

  The reason humanity is afraid of the dark is because that's when demons are allowed to play. They can't walk in daylight. No, that's left to the evil humans—or demons who have shifted into evil humans. Luckily, human-shaped or cute-pet-shaped or worm-shaped demons are pretty helpless. Their forms are temporary and they have a hard time using the unfamiliar bodies. Still dangerous, but they tend to hide out until sundown when they can shift back to their lethal/ugly normal forms. Unless they're hunting someone who has seen them. Then? Well then they're just possessed and it's super creepy.

  Especially because I can't kill them without my swords.

  Ghosts can't come out until the sun goes down, either. And Soul's Agents, like me? We're just normal, boring people until the shadows claim the sky.

  And then we aren't.

  During the day, I can't run fast. I mean, I run fast, yes. But not so fast I blur the light. I did track for six years. I run that kind of fast. But at night, well… I'm nothing but a shadow, as previously mentioned. Even in stilettos. Also, I don't have Golly and Kali during the day. I am pretty good with a regular old gun, and my dad, for my sixteenth birthday, gave me some regular old swords. In a pinch, they'll do, although I haven't had to use them before except for training.

  "You should go home before you can't run." Elizabeth moved to touch my shoulder. It felt like an icy breeze as her hand went right through me. I have no idea how long she'd been dead, but by the way she winced, she still wasn't used to the whole ghost thing. My only clue was her clothing—it was colonial, if I had to guess. But she didn't offer information and I didn't ask.

  Sometimes, I wished I knew why these souls were on the brink of eternal damnation.

  Most times, not so much.

  I nodded, stretching. My shirt was ruined. My jeans might be salvageable. I swore when I saw the black, icky blood spattered all over my boots. There was no saving them. "It's admirable how you fight in such high heels." Elizabeth tried to hide a grin, and I had absolutely no defense, because she was right to laugh. I bet my mama never wore five-inch heels to fight demons.

  "Okay then. You guys have a good day. I'll see you soon?" I backed away, waving at the others. Elizabeth gave me a sad smile as she faded into the darkness. Before I could even turn away, the rest were gone. And the sun was up.

  I guess I would be walking home.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Alec

  Navi stood on the sand, staring out at the water. As always, I couldn't take my eyes off her—long dark waves tangled recklessly down her back, her perfect, so-gorgeous-it-hurt profile turned toward me just enough that I could see the shadow of her eyelashes against her cheek. She wore a long black dress with a low back, and my fingers ached to run themselves across the exposed skin. But I didn't. I stayed where I was, several feet away, watching her. Waiting.

  I heard the sound before she did. Long before she did. The roar of hooves, pounding across the sand, splashing through the surf. The waves, in response, became wilder, more angry. I turned, slowly, too slowly, toward the horse and rider. Both of them black, like Navi's dress. It took several more seconds before I realized the rider was carrying a broadsword of some sort, the hilt bumping against his horse as they raced down the beach.

  Straight at Navi.

  "Navi!" I screamed, but she didn't hear me. She still stared at the ocean, so serene, so content. I tried to race toward her, but there was something in the way, holding me back. Blocking me from her. I could see her, I could hear her breathe, but I didn't exist to her. I screamed anyway.

  It did no good. The rider came closer, raised his broadsword. She finally saw him and turned, horror crossing her beautiful face. She tried to run, and I pounded on the invisible wall, keeping me from her. I threw myself against it, felt my shoulder break, my ribs crack. But the wall held firm.

  She was fast, but no match for the horse. They caught up to her and the rider grabbed her hair, yanking her off her feet. Her hands struggled to grab his hands, to free herself, but there wasn't time. He swung his broadsword down and it sliced across her stomach. Then he released her hair and she dropped to the ground, curling in on herself, facing toward me. The horse reared once, and they were gone, racing back the way they came.

  "Navi!" I screamed again, throwing myself at the barrier between us. She sobbed, clutching her stomach, and I could see the blood staining the sand.

  "Help me," she whispered, reaching, seeming to reach for me, and I redoubled my efforts, but I couldn't get through. No matter what I did, I couldn't get to her.

  She died before my eyes.

  I swore, flinging myself out of the dream and out of my bed. The blasted blanke
ts tangled around my legs and I collapsed on the floor, swearing more. I hated that dream. I'd had it so many times I could play it on repeat forward and backward, start from any given point and watch it clear through, and the ending never changed. I always watched her die.

  It had started the night I met her. Years before we were together, long before I started realizing she was going out every single night, even longer before I'd realized she was going out every night to see other guys. It had stopped, briefly, when she'd gone away to college. But my subconscious knew she was back before I did. The dream had started again a few months ago.

  And after I'd seen her yesterday, I'd been expecting her in my dreams last night. Hell, she'd been in my head all day long, why leave when I tried to sleep?

  Although it would have been nice if she hadn't tortured me with the nightmare. "Just once, Angel, can't we have a dream that isn't bloody and involving your death?" I muttered. And then I was glad no one was around to hear me talk to the girl who had broken my heart four years ago. And who also, coincidentally, wasn't there to answer me.

  I blinked at the clock, its red face trying to fry my eyeballs, and groaned. Five a.m., and I had to get up at six. No point trying to sleep now. Heaving myself to my feet, I stumbled to the kitchen, focusing solely on my need for coffee and trying desperately to shove the images from that stupid dream out of my head.

  It never worked, but I could try.

  I was leaning against the counter, drinking my coffee black and glaring out the window at the rising sun when my roommate stumbled in. "Hey."