03 Before The Devil Knows You're Dead-Speak Of The Devil

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03 Before The Devil Knows You're Dead-Speak Of The Devil Page 8

by Eimer, Patricia


  “Oh yuck.” I shook my head and tried not to think about my sister and the ferret-faced demon who worked for the SEC doing anything that required him to have stamina. I could almost imagine that little, pointy nose of his twitching while they—Ugh, nope, no I wasn’t going to let my mind go there. Not today.

  “Says you.” She hopped up from my love seat and started for the door.

  “Says anyone with taste,” I said as she hurried out, slamming the door behind her.

  “I have to agree,” a voice said behind me and Michael stepped into the room.

  “What do you want?” I stood, facing him, and started to back toward the door, instinctively trying to flee from him even though I knew that given my new powers he couldn’t hurt me.

  “What do you think I want?” he asked, cracking his knuckles like some old-school villain. “I want the powers that you stole from me.”

  “I didn’t steal anything from you. Valentin forced his powers on me. I didn’t ask for them. In fact, I don’t want them.”

  “Then give them to me.” Michael stalked slowly toward me, his eyes glowing a brilliant gold. “Let me have Valentin’s powers.”

  “Why should I?” I asked, instantly wary of anyone who actually wanted this job and was willing to put on a power display to prove it.

  “I’m the most qualified person to take the job over. I’ve been working in the Double D since the plagues of Egypt. I was the head reaper in charge of collecting the souls of the oldest sons. I deserve this promotion.”

  “It’s not a promotion; it’s a prison sentence. One hundred years at the helm of death. It’s like being a pirate in Hell or something.”

  “Oh quit whining. You have the most powerful job in the Celestial kingdom—even more powerful than your father and your uncle. You control life and death. You set the policy of mortality. The people you hate sentenced to an early, painful death. The people you love—”

  “I won’t kill people simply because I don’t like them. Life and death aren’t a game. This is people’s lives.”

  “Yet you control them.” Michael came closer and perched on the other end of the couch, his arms crossed over his chest. “You, Faith Bettincourt, have the power of life and death at your fingertips. You could be a god in your own right. All-powerful. The world would tremble at your feet.”

  I backed farther away from him. I’d been around long enough to know that if someone was offering to hand you the one thing you need in life that there was always going to be a catch. And considering Michael was one of my uncle’s less stable archangels I figured that catch was going to be particularly nasty. “I don’t want it. I don’t want to control anything. I didn’t ask for this job.”

  “No,” Michael said, his fists clenched so hard that all of his knuckles were white. “I asked for it, and Valentin refused. He didn’t want the administrative paperwork of training a second-term angel of death from his own team. He was afraid of being accused of favoritism but you’re a demon and that means the next reincarnation of Death has to be an angel and look, here I am.”

  “So I should…what? Go step in front of a speeding car so you can have your dream job? I don’t think so. I like the mortal realm. I have a life here. People I love. I’m not going to destroy my mortal body just to further your ambitions.”

  “What if I said there was a way to transfer power without killing your mortal body?” He raised one eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. “What if I told you that I was there when the original Death handed over his powers and I know how it was done? I can take your powers as Death and leave you alive.”

  “I’d say you’re a liar and, even if you’re not, I’m not giving you my powers.” I stood up and moved away from him, careful not to turn my back on the angel.

  It wasn’t that Michael had threatened me, but there was something not right about what he was proposing. I didn’t know why but it made my skin crawl to think about him as Death. The look in his eyes last night when he’d come for Hannah. The bitter way he’d talked about the soul that Lisa managed to save. The whole world trembling at your feet thing.

  If Michael were to become the Angel of Death, he would seek out mortals with the same relentless passion as he had last night. He would have even less pity than Death had for mortals before. If I let him take my place, he’d destroy the world and everyone in it.

  “What?”

  “No,” I said, my resolve strengthening. I didn’t want this job but that didn’t mean I was going to doom the rest of the world to hell on Earth just to get out of it. “I won’t give you my powers. I’m staying the Angel of Death.”

  “What about all those people you love? That family you care so much about? The nephilim? You can never have a normal life with him in this job. If you don’t hand over your powers, there is no future for the two of you.”

  “We’ll work something out.” I walked over to my door, trying to hide the growing sense of unease trickling down the length of my spine. “Now I think you should leave.”

  “You’re making a mistake.” Michael said as he stalked over to the open doorway. “You’ll never be able to work this out on your own.”

  “I’ll manage.”

  “I doubt it.” He leaned close enough that we were only a hairsbreadth apart. “I can’t wait to see you try, though. Because guess what, Princess? Daddy’s position won’t stop the fact that this time you’ll actually have to do your job. No slacking off while someone else does the work for you.”

  “I’ve always pulled my own weight.” I clenched my teeth together.

  “Yeah?” Michael gave me a mocking smile. “Well I can’t wait to see you in the office tomorrow morning Your Majesty—and one piece of advice from me to you. Keep up on the paperwork you’d hate to get behind—those files can be murder.”

  “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” I slammed the door in his face the moment he’d stalked through it.

  Looking around my empty apartment, I realized it was too quiet. I was awake and had no idea what to do with myself.

  “Might as well check out my new office,” I said to myself as I opened a phase portal into Death’s office, a place I knew even though I’d never been there before. Only the Death Department could manage to look like the county health department and smell like a mix between a flower shop and a hospital. And feet. For some reason the place had a definite aura of dirty feet about it.

  Sitting on the battered desk in front of me were three tall piles of file folders and as I watched, the pile grew as more folders appeared underneath all the rest. Somehow, I was pretty sure this wasn’t going to be pleasant.

  Then again, maybe I’d get lucky enough to have a secretary. Otherwise I was going to have to recruit Harold to take the job because there was no way I could handle all this paper on my own.

  Chapter Nine

  “Okay,” I muttered to myself as I opened another folder. “I’ve handled all the old-age related files. Those were the cyan ones.”

  The room was filled with various stacks of file folders, all in different colors, and I sighed. This was the next twenty-four hours’ worth of death detail. Thousands of cases.

  I looked over at the stack of folders sitting on the floor beside my desk. “Plus the blue folders.” I pointed at another stack of royal-blue folders sitting next to the door. “Those are the elderly people with cancer and other related maladies.”

  “Hello?” a pleasant, musical-sounding voice called from somewhere down the hall. “Is someone there?”

  “Hello?” I stood and started toward my office door, careful not to trip over the stacks of folders. “Hello? I’m back here.”

  “Oh.” The door flew open and I saw a tiny, dark-haired angel standing on the other side of it wearing a pair of cute khaki capris and a pink scoop-necked T-shirt. “What are you doing in there?”

  “It’s my office.” I shrugged, and stuck my hand out. “I’m Faith, the new Angel of—”

  “Death?” She grabbed my hand, givi
ng it a brisk shake, smiling cheerfully. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Aurelia, your personal assistant.”

  “I have a personal assistant now? Wait a second, how can you touch me?”

  “Yes, of course you have a personal assistant. No one could reasonably get through your new day-to-day routine without a little help. And why wouldn’t I…?” She looked at me, her eyes narrowing questioningly. “Oh, and we’re in a protected Celestial realm, that’s how I can touch you. Obviously.”

  “A what?”

  “I can touch you because Death’s office is carved out of a tiny portion of Purgatory. It makes interoffice workings easier since angels can’t go to Hell and demons aren’t welcome in Heaven. Well, besides your family I’ve been told you’re welcome anywhere.”

  “What does being in Purgatory have to do with you being able to touch me?”

  “Because everyone here is either already in their Celestial form—meaning our physical bodies are only mental projections of what the mortal skin we wear looks like—or they’re dead.” She shrugged. “If I were you, I’d try to forget about the dead part though. It’s just sort of creepy.”

  “Wait, I’m not actually inside my body when I’m here? Where does it go then?”

  “Um, no? Of course you’re not actually here. Do you really think a mortal body could withstand the fires of Hell?”

  “No?” I asked, feeling stupid that this had never occurred to me before.

  “No.” She shook her head at me like an overly patient kindergarten teacher with a kid who wouldn’t give up their paste-eating habit. “So you’re manifesting as what you believe your body to be.”

  “So if I believed my body were ten pounds lighter and three inches taller that would happen?”

  “Sure. Why not? It’s only a projection after all.”

  “Great.” I closed my eyes and tried to focus. I am Giselle Bündchen’s hotter, curvier, taller sister. I am Giselle Bündchen’s hotter, curvier, taller sister.

  “Very nice,” Aurelia said, her voice dry, and I opened my eyes. She was holding out a tiny gold compact and I peered into it.

  “Wow. Watch out, Victoria’s Secret and the non-petite section of the mall, I’m going to rock your respective worlds.”

  “It only works in Celestial realms.” Aurelia snapped the mirror shut before I even got a chance to play with my silky, new hairdo. “So, unless you want to be the Hottie Who Never Leaves Hell, it’s time to quit playing and get to work.”

  “All right,” I said wearily, “but I think I have most of it done.”

  “You have the schedules worked out? The work assignments? Not to mention going through all the necessary performance evaluations and managing this month’s budget requests?”

  “Uh, no?” My heart pounded. “I did separate all those folders by color, though.”

  “Good for you, but we separate them by district and reaper, not by color.”

  “Shit.” I ran a hand through my once-again curly hair. When had that happened? Probably during my conversion from sex goddess to office moron.

  “Look, I know you’re new and everyone’s heard that this was sort of a surprise assignment that Valentin threw at you. It’s okay. You need a few days to learn the ropes and you’ll be fine. Now come on, let’s get this mess settled.”

  “Right. Okay. What should we do?”

  “You should be prepared to answer your cell phone in three, two—”

  My white iPhone danced across my cluttered desk and I hurried over to pick it up. “How did you know that?” I asked as I grabbed the phone.

  “Personal assistant, remember? Even the mortal ones are at least a little bit psychic. If they’re any good at least.”

  “Hello?” I heard Lisa on the other end. “Faith, where are you?”

  “I’m at the office. What’s up?” I asked, suddenly worried. Had something happened? Did she need me for some reason? Was something wrong with A.C.?

  “Whose office?” Lisa asked.

  “My office. You know, the place I go to do my Angel of Death stuff. I’m here meeting with my new personal assistant, Aurelia, to learn the ropes.”

  “Well why are you doing that?” Lisa snapped. “We’re going to find a way out of this mess. Do you understand me? , So you don’t need to learn the ropes of anything.”

  “I know we’re going to figure this out,” I said and rolled my eyes since she couldn’t see me, “but until we do, managing Death is my responsibility. Matt has an army, Dad has Hell, you’ve got Tolliver and the baby, Mom has driving us all to the edge of lunacy, but this is my thing. I’m responsible for Death and I’m not going to screw it up on my first day.”

  “We’re going to find someone else to take the job,” Lisa protested.

  “Yeah.” I looked around at the massive piles of crap that had ended up cluttering the room and all the files balanced on top of the different stacks of mess. The place looked like a homicidal hoarder’s idea of paradise. “Call me crazy, but when that person takes over I’d like to leave the place a bit more organized than how I found it.”

  “Fine, fine, you goody two-shoes demon, run Death Incorporated if that makes you happy. I just called to let you know that we have a noon appointment. Instead of doing an office visit we’re going to meet at my place for the basic physical part and then we’re all going to do lunch.”

  “Lunch? You want me and you and a demonic midwife to do lunch?”

  “Well, that’s the thing,” Lisa said. “I’m not actually using a demonic midwife.”

  “You’re not?”

  “No, Tolliver felt sort of weird about it. Like since Vicky had delivered him it would be weird if she delivered our baby. He’s afraid she’ll realize we’ve been having sex.”

  “He’s a three-thousand-year-old demon with a wife—I’m pretty sure she’s given up on the idea of him being a virgin.”

  “I know that and you know that but you know how Tolliver is.”

  “Mentally deficient?”

  Aurelia let out a loud snort and she clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles. Apparently, even the reapers knew my brother was a moron.

  “So anyway.” Lisa didn’t bother to answer my question—either because she was sick of listening to me take jabs at her new husband, or because she knew I was right about my brother. I was going with “she knew that I was right,” but who knows? “We decided to use a different midwife. One that Matt recommended, actually.”

  “A midwife that Matt recommended?” I blinked, confused, because that was the last sentence I’d ever expected to hear anyone say. Ever. “I didn’t realize that Matt knew any midwives.”

  “His twin sister was the apprentice to the old Angale healer. Now that the other woman has decided to retire Matt’s twin sister Mary Beth is taking over. He talked to her and she’s fully embraced the whole demons aren’t enemies agenda and wants to prove it by helping deliver our baby.”

  “So wait a second.” I looked at the phone for a second and shook my head, as if I could somehow clear out the craziness from what I was hearing. “You’re using an Angale healer as your midwife and she’s Matt’s twin sister that I’ve never even met? Are you kidding me?”

  “He thought it might go a long way to help cement Angale-Demon relations.”

  “You’re using your firstborn child as a diplomatic bargaining chip? Seriously? You’re going to do something this risky because my brother doesn’t want to let a midwife demon know that he’s having sex?”

  “Well yeah,” Lisa said. “Why? Does that seem weird to you?”

  “A bit.”

  “Can we argue about it in person then? After all, the least you can do is meet her, and then if we decide she’s not going to work out, you can dispose of her. One good kill before you hand the job over to someone else.”

  “Fine.” I rolled my eyes, even though she couldn’t see me.

  “Good because I’m tired and I don’t want to argue. Instead, I think I’m going to go grab the
cookie dough out of the fridge and take it to bed with me. I need a long morning of watching movies in bed with my two favorite guys. See you at noon.”

  “Wait, what? You’re in bed with two guys? Who? And how has Tolliver kept from killing the other guy?”

  “Because he’s not here,” Lisa said. “I’m with my homeboys, Ben and Jerry. Later.”

  I heard a quiet click as she hung up and stood there, shocked that my best friend had managed to boss me around again. Either that belly was turning her into a superhero when it came to manipulation, or I was seriously getting played.

  “Well that was interesting,” Aurelia said as I put the phone back on the desk. “I’d always heard the Anti-Christ’s new bride was unique but I didn’t quite comprehend how unique she was until now.”

  “Actually she’s really—” My shoulders slumped and I dropped my head back to stretch my neck and try to relieve some of the tension. “Yeah we’re pretty much the definition of dysfunctional family. Don’t worry you learn to live with it. We grow on you.”

  “Like fungus? Or possibly mold would be a better description?”

  “Yeah.” I dropped my head forward so that I could look at her and then at the enormous piles of folders scattered around the room. “We’re exactly like mold. Dumb question, though, have those stacks of folders been growing while I was on the phone or am I losing my mind?”

  “Nope,” Aurelia said, “they’ve been growing. Now, want me to show you how to get rid of them?”

  “Please. I hate paperwork more than I hate missionaries, and that’s saying something.”

  “Then this job is really going to suck for you because we’re drowning in paperwork and occasionally missionaries.” She pointed at the cyan-colored pile of natural causes and wiggled her fingers. The stacks faded out of sight.

  “Uh, where did my paperwork go?”

  “Natural causes don’t require an intercession from the Angel of Death personally. Unless it’s somebody important.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. Death by natural causes is generally a pretty benign thing. People have had a long, full life and their soul has been adequately weighed and measured so there are no problems of jurisdiction. Occasionally you might want to pop in and help with a job around performance-appraisal time but other than that N.C.’s are no muss, no fuss deals.”

 

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