I knew I’d never personally been here, but I felt as though I had several times before. It couldn’t have been Heaven; Heaven didn’t require a sun for light and temperature, like Earth did. Was I on Earth? I pondered, and then my thoughts came to a screeching halt as I noticed the young woman I’d been chasing had stopped before the water and was now stripped of everything except her beautiful black mane of hair.
I wanted to turn and run back the way I’d come, at least hide my eyes from her immodesty, but I couldn’t figure out how to stop or look away; I wasn’t in control of my body. Just before I reached her and the glistening water, she turned to look back at me. Lameria smiled, and my inner voice gasped in horror as she dove into the sparkling water.
No! Stop! I have to get out of here! She kidnapped me and took me to Lucifer! I can’t go swimming with her! I shrieked to the host, but he only stopped and began to undress by the water’s edge.
The host looked down at two large male feet when he bent to remove his trousers. I was just about to panic again until our gaze moved from his toes to the reflection in the water: Isaiah.
Oh crap! This is his memory. I could only guess what would happen after he jumped into the lake with the very naked Princess of Greed, so I fought with everything I had and shoved my way out of his mind.
Chapter 2
Josselyn
“You didn’t stay for the good part,” I heard Isaiah say, and then my eyes flew open to stare at the toes of my shiny black boots.
I knew the archangel was to my front, and that Troy gently had a hold of my arms, in an effort to steady me, at my back. I could feel hundreds of eyes on me. All the angels that had been present for the graduation had stayed for the show between me and Isaiah. Wonderful.
I didn’t want to look up and face any of them. Running from the room and never looking back was what I wanted to do, but I knew I couldn’t. Isaiah had been right, I had sworn to serve and protect, but what I had meant was that I swore to find Malcolm and bring him home safely. That was it. No more. The end.
I didn’t know what Lameria had done to betray Isaiah, nor did I want to know. If this was his attempt at proving to me that we were the same, damaged, broken-hearted souls, he had a few things to learn about me. I was nothing like him.
All I knew was that I had to get out of here before he decided to force me inside his head again. I shuddered to think what the side effects would be like. Lameria’s nude body was already branded on my brain. I just knew I was going to see her naked tush every time I closed my eyes from now on. Eeek!
Who says angels don’t live a Hell of their own?
Isaiah had tricked me. The only reason he wanted me to go through the academy was so he could order me to follow a different mission as soon as I graduated: helping scum demons stay on the right path. Whatever!
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and cursed myself for not seeing how obvious his plan had been from the beginning. I’m so stupid!
Isaiah’s plan wasn’t going to work, but I couldn’t see a way to make him understand that, nor could I avoid doing the mission.
I groaned as I made up my mind. I would go to Earth and assess the situation—like I was trained to do—then come back with my poor evaluation of how the demons were handling Earth life and what a huge mistake it was to let them go free in the first place. I knew before I even left Heaven what my suggestion would be: to send them all back to Hell.
“We can’t send them back to Hell, Josselyn,” Isaiah replied, after picking the thought from my head. “Your job is to help them adapt and—”
“Why can’t someone else go? Why does it have to be me? I am not—”
“Be quiet, child. You are allowing your emotions to control you. Recite rule number three.”
I swallowed hard and drew in a deep breath, silently regretting the stinging tears before they even fell. “Isaiah—”
“I am very disappointed that you would not put away your own selfish wants and realize how important this mission is to all of Heaven, as well as every innocent soul on Earth. Recite it now or I will ensure you never get to join in the search for Malcolm.”
“Stay in control of your emotions,” I whispered.
Isaiah took a step closer to me, keeping eye contact the whole time. I wanted to look away, but Isaiah was through arguing. He had asked nicely. I had refused. Now he was putting his big archangel foot down, and I had no choice but to obey. I didn’t dare look away from him.
He nodded. “That’s right; always stay in control of your emotions. Now, what is rule number one, Josselyn?”
My gaze immediately fell to look at his shoes. I would take chastising, but I could not look at him and hold myself together at the same time. Crap! I let the breath in me release through my nostrils and forced my spine straight. I was defeated, but at least he’d allowed me to speak my mind before crushing my dreams. “Protect Heaven and Earth before anything else, sir.”
He tilted my chin up with one of his fingers, taking away my choice to avoid eye contact. His face was full of knowing and understanding as he stared down at me, and I wanted to weep for us both. “This is your destiny, child. You will only find yourself in more misery if you try and deny it. Go prepare for departure with Troop C. And remember,” he said as a smile slowly crept across his handsome face, “I’ll be watching you.”
Well, wasn’t that comforting to know?
***
“Whaur are ye going, Jossel? Isaiah thocht it a good idea fur me tae accompany Troop C and gan wi’ ye,” Troy said as he caught up to my fast stride, and then casually pointed back down the hall to the closed doors of the LOD room. He fell easily into step beside me. “Troop C is waiting fur ye back there.”
I held my head up and spoke in a firm voice. “Isaiah thought it was a good idea because he knows you will keep a close eye on me.” I said it as a statement. There was no sense in skirting around the obvious, and I had always kept it real with Troy, as had he with me. “Well, I hate to disappoint you both, but I don’t need a babysitter. I’m not going.”
“Ye… but A heard… ye cannae…” He stopped in the hall and took my arm with a gentle, but firm, hand. There was no wiggling myself out of the seven foot tall angel’s grasp, so I didn’t fight him on my immediate release. “Whit the bloody hell dae ye mean yer no’ goin’?”
“Why should I go? So they can all laugh at me for falling for their tricks? I honestly don’t see how anything good can come of me going to Earth to help the “special cases,”“ I said, doing the whole air quotes with my fingers for more dramatic appeal.
The sour look on Troy’s face let me know real quick that he was siding with Isaiah. Wasn’t that just fan-freaking-tastic? Whatever. They couldn’t make me go, whether it was my destiny or not. What had Isaiah meant by that anyway? My destiny. Maybe I would be more apt to go along with the preposterous plan if someone would only fill me in on what my destiny was instead of expecting me to just fleet to Earth and make a big fool of myself—again!
“Ye ha’e tae go—”
“No, I do not! I can resign from the LOD and drop my soul on my way past Heaven’s gate. If Isaiah wants to push me, that’s fine, let him push, but I can promise he won’t get the reaction he is hoping for!”
Instead of scolding me, Troy grabbed me in a big bear hug. His huge body was trembling. I had scared him, and I was sorry for that, but I wasn’t going to be bullied into doing something I knew for a fact would ruin me for all eternity. I was not strong enough to face Thoros.
“A ken yer scared, ma wee lassie, but we need ye…A need ye. Believe it or no’, asides me, ye ranked higher than anyone that has gone through the academy, ever. I ha’e need o’ those mad skills backing me up doon there.”
“I tried so hard because I was afraid I would fail and not get to help look for Malcolm.” He loosened his grip so I could take a step back and look up at him. “Now, I’m being punished for doing so well?” My voice broke on a sob.
“Shh-shh-shh,” Troy
said, and welcomed me back in the comfort of his arms so I could fall apart. “Yer no’ being punished. This is something that has tae be taken care o’ afore it gets oot o’ hand, and then I swear tae ye that we’ll look for Malcolm the’gither. We’ll both leave against orders if necessary, but A need ye now, Jossel. Thoros is killing humans. Their souls are no’ coming here. They’re no’ coming tae Heaven, Jossel.”
I couldn’t stop the gasp before my hand covered my mouth. What was going on? Thoros may have been a lot of things, but he was no murderer. Where were the souls going? Hell? That wasn’t possible. I knew I had no choice but to find out what the problem was and solve it. I couldn’t turn my back on what I knew to be right.
I looked up as I heard the doors of the Line of Defense whisper open. Isaiah was standing in all his magnificent beauty, his face removed of all expression. I wanted to punch him in the nose for not bothering to tell me the details of the assignment, but I knew he wouldn’t feel the pain. It would just make me look immature and stupid, so I only narrowed my eyes to thin slits and glared at him instead.
“Is there a problem out here?” Isaiah asked calmly, as if he didn’t already know every detail about the show that had just gone on between me and Troy.
“No,” I said, and shook my head. “Troy was just walking me to my room. I forgot my lucky ring.”
He eyed me for a brief moment. The guardians still hadn’t been able to fix the damage that had been done from the minion entering into Heaven. The angels being able to lie was only one of the issues that had them all in a fizzy as of late, and I took advantage of that each and every time I got a chance, at least when Isaiah was around. It irritated him something fierce.
“Very well. Try not to keep your squad waiting too long. They are waiting for your instructions, my dear.”
“My instructions? You mean…”
Isaiah nodded at my unspoken thought. “They are waiting for their squad leader to give the next orders.”
I swallowed hard, and then looked up to Troy’s smiling face. “You?” I whispered.
I looked down in confusion at his raised hand and the index finger that was extended, pointing directly at me.
“No, ma wee lassie,” Troy shook his head slowly as he chuckled. “They wait for ye.”
Well, crap!
Chapter 3
Ethan
The rapid clicking of the spokes on his Diamondback Trace Sport Bike was nearly drowned out by the city noise. Ethan pedaled faster, pushing his muscles past dangerous and into ‘failure mode’ as he glanced over his left shoulder at the black Mercedes that was swiftly gaining on him.
He’d thought he was only being paranoid at first, but after making several odd turns, and backtracking with the car sticking to his tail through the whole maze, it was clear it had to be Vincent De Luca’s boys.
His heart pounded against his ribcage at the thought of meeting up with them again. Losing the parcel in his backpack wasn’t an option. His main job would cut him loose if he got caught again, and he couldn’t afford to lose Carlos as an employer; another hospital stay would be the least of his worries.
The red light up ahead was his only chance at making it away alive, and even that wasn’t a guarantee. Knowing if he made one mistake he would end up in a coma—or worse, in a coffin—his bike wheels followed the white dashes between the waiting cars and didn’t slow as he crossed into the five lanes of oncoming traffic.
Horns blared and tires squealed, but Ethan kept his focus on what his next move should be. He blinked only once when he heard the sharp sound of metal impacting metal behind him, and then popped the wheels of his bike up on top of the hood of a Dodge-something-or-other, traveled quickly up the windshield, over the roof, down the back glass and barely touched the trunk before his tires connected with asphalt once again.
Ethan smiled and took the first alley to his left, so he could get back on his course, free of any tag-alongs.
Vinny’s boys knew him. They would find him again, but it wouldn’t be today.
***
Exhausted and completely out of breath, Ethan locked his bike up in the third level garage of Caesar’s Palace near the elevator, and then took the stairs to the room number that was scribbled on the piece of paper in his pocket.
He raised his knuckles and knocked six times, as instructed, and then waited for the suite door to open.
A dark-skinned bald guy, big as a mountain, opened the door wide enough to eye Ethan warily. Ethan knew there was a bright red dot on the center of his chest without even looking away from the expressionless eyes of the guy pointing the gun at him.
“You Trick?” the mountain grumbled, sounding as if he had just completed a marathon, though, by looking at him, Ethan knew that wouldn’t be possible. Other than having a few too many Twinkies and Whoppers in his day, he could tell the guy had asthma. Outrunning him wouldn’t be a problem, but the trigger-happy finger on the firing mechanism of the .45 caliber Sig Sauer could be.
Ethan nodded. “Yeah.”
“Anybody follow you?”
He thought briefly about the black Mercedes and shook his head. “My tracks are clean.”
Bald Guy gave him a disbelieving glare but opened the door anyway, allowing Ethan the chance to walk over the threshold, keeping the firearm trained on him all the while.
He caught a glance at the silencer attached and knew nobody would ever find his body if things went south with this job. These guys were professionals, like most of the people Ethan carried to for Carlos. Professionals to him meant only one thing: dangerous.
Ethan allowed Bald Guy to shove him farther into the grand suite. There wasn’t really anything he could do about it; he had to deliver the package if he wanted to pay the rent that was already three weeks overdue. He’d been in this situation more times than he cared to mention. It almost seemed automatic now, expected even.
Ethan went to remove the pack straps from his shoulders and froze when the cold metal of the business end of the gun touched the flat part above the bridge of his nose.
“I’m not armed,” Ethan said quickly, and then closed his eyes and sucked in a sharp breath when someone from behind him ripped the pack off his back. “I only have the product. I swear.”
The sound of a zipper unzipping, and then a soft rustling was heard in close proximity behind him, but he didn’t dare move or attempt to look at what he’d carried on his back for over nine and a half miles; it was none of his business and he liked to keep it that way.
“S’all here, boss,” the male voice said from behind him, the Italian accent thick enough Ethan could smell garlic in the air. Ethan let out a heavy breath in relief. He hadn’t ever delivered a package that wasn’t complete, but the worry was always there, in the back of his mind. He would be the one to take the wrath for someone else’s mistake if it ever did happen.
“That’s good,” Ethan heard a female voice say, the words barely above a whisper and extremely alluring.
He turned toward the low sound in interest and immediately saw stars and a bright flash of light in his vision as he was pummeled to the plush carpet. His knees suffered rug burn; he was sure of it, but that wasn’t the worst of it. He was positive he was going to need stitches from that pistol whipping. The warm blood mixed with his sweat and ran freely down his face.
Opening his good eye, he watched as crimson red stained the cappuccino color of the luxury carpet, and then a pair of designer heels stepped into his line of sight.
“Please, I—” Ethan said, and then stopped suddenly when he heard a soft knock at the door. Should I scream for help? he thought, but decided to stay quiet after the silencer nudged his temple.
“See who’s at the door,” Italian guy grumbled to the mountain, and, after a moment, the pressure left the side of Ethan’s head as the big guy walked away to see who their new company was.
“Who is it?” Ethan heard the asthmatic voice of bald guy say. Silence filled the room, and for a brief moment the only sound
Ethan heard was the pounding of his heart.
“Room service,” a male voice finally responded.
“We didn’t call for any room service. Go away, asshole!”
Ethan dared to glance toward the door and watched as the mountain turned back to him with a scowl. Big guy took two steps, and then all hell broke loose as the steel door was blown inward clean off its hinges, knocking the bald guy to the ground, and then falling on top of his unconscious body.
Ethan’s eyes widened in horror and he dove in between the wall and the king size bed, and then scooted under it to get away from whatever had been strong enough to do that much damage. Turning his head, he locked eyes with two beautiful sapphires, and they seemed to be just as frightened as he was.
He felt for and retrieved the pocketknife in his front jeans’ pocket, just in case she decided to go all drug dealer crazy on him. Their gazes were suddenly torn apart and drawn to the agonizing screams of Italian guy.
From what Ethan could see, there was a man wearing a pair of really nice boots a few feet from the bed. After a few seconds, the screaming stopped and Italian guy was dropped to the floor at the man’s feet, his eyes open but unseeing.
“Oh, God,” the young woman whispered, and then slapped a hand over her mouth, those sapphire eyes shimmering with tears about to brim over as she stared at the dead man in horror. Ethan blinked a few times, confused by her emotions. Surely a drug dealer, or whatever she was, wouldn’t get all choked up about a petty employee losing his life.
Ethan opened his mouth to say something, but she shook her head to keep him quiet.
“I’m DEA,” she mouthed, and then reached to her thigh, pulling back a small handgun gripped in her palm. She slowly moved her eyes back to the boots and dead guy, and so did Ethan, neither of them even daring to breathe.
Ethan was freaking out in his head, but surprisingly not from monster guy with nice boots, who had murdered everyone in the room besides the two people hiding under the bed. He was freaking out because the woman he had just carried drugs or money to, had just told him she was a damn Drug Enforcement Agent. Shit!
Good Side of Sin Page 2