Forbidden War (The Intern Diaries Book 3)

by D. C. Gomez

  “Katrina, it’s been such a long time,” Jake purred.

  “Jake,” Katrina said, and somehow, she made that one word sound like an insult. Their eyes met, and I felt like I was watching a scene from one of those fighting movies where they circled each other, sizing each other up. It was uncomfortable to say the least, so I cleared my throat, hoping to ease some of the tension.

  “Well since you are here, can we get to business?” I told Jake, giving him one of my best smiles. “We are on a short deadline,” I added

  “Isis, dear, you are always on a deadline,” Jake told me, but his eyes stayed on Katrina. “But you know the rules. No free talks without payment.” He finally looked back at me.

  “What’s the catch today?” I wasn’t sure what we were supposed to do.

  “It’s simple dear. Get this crowd going wild and I’m all yours.” Jake’s eyes fell on Katrina when he said the last part. “You get to pick the song. Break a leg.”

  “Fine,” Katrina said right before she dragged me away. I looked over my shoulder and Jake waved at me with a smile. Why was he so happy?

  “What exactly are we supposed to be doing?” I asked Katrina as I focused my attention on the front of the room.

  “Have you seen American Idol?” Katrina asked, all business-like.

  I was ashamed to admit it. “Not really,” I whispered. Katrina gave me a quick glance.

  “No big deal,” she said, a little calmer. “Basically, it’s a singing competition, but your goal is to win the crowd and make them dance. Can you sing?” Katrina asked me as we made our way to the left side of the stage.

  A large man with a clipboard stood at the front of the line. There were at least five people in front of us waiting. They looked too excited for my taste.

  “What happens if we don’t win the crowd?” I asked Katrina as I faced the crowd. They did not look happy.

  “If you’re lucky, you will get booed off the stage, but if you’re really bad, watch out for flying objects.” Katrina pointed to the closest table as she spoke. The collection of throwing knives and Chinese stars were impressive. These people took their singing serious. “How is your singing?” Katrina asked again.

  “I’m okay, but I’m more of a musician than lead man,” I told her as I analyzed all the different weapons sitting on all the tables.

  I hadn’t noticed when the next act had started, but it didn’t last long. Some poor soul had tried to do an interpretation of Aretha Franklin’s Respect and failed miserably. In less than twenty seconds, weapons flew, and screams erupted from the stage. My stomach turned.

  Katrina sized up the other candidates and watched the crowd. Then, she turned to me. “What can you play?”

  “Anything,” I answered softly.

  Katrina’s mouth parted and her eyes went wide. “What do you mean anything?” she asked me, almost like she was analyzing me for the first time.

  “I can play any instrument with very little practice now. Death’s gift enhances our natural ability. I was a musician before joining her. She has made me out of this world amazing. I can actually induce certain reactions from people with my music.” I held my breath, unsure how Katrina would take all this.

  “This is awesome,” Katrina told me as she gave me a huge hug. “I need you to pour your soul into this and make the people go wild. I got the singing part.” Katrina flashed me an evil grin.

  “Isn’t that cheating?” I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to use my gifts for a singing competition.

  “Isis, you either do this or we don’t get to talk to the devil today.”

  I hated it, but she was right.

  “Fine, let’s go,” I told her.

  She grabbed my hand and dragged me to the front of the line. The last two acts had gone up in flames. The remaining group appeared to be shaking, so they didn’t argue when Katrina pushed passed them.

  Katrina talked quickly to the large man with the clipboard. Up close, I realized he wasn’t fat, but built like a linebacker with solid muscle. He had a baby face that did not match his lethal body.

  After a few minutes, the linebacker handed Katrina the clipboard. She scribbled something on it, then shoved it in front of my face so I could read it. We were going to perform two songs: Wicked Games and Black Magic Woman. What an interesting combination, I thought.

  We were on the stage before I had time to change my mind. Katrina walked towards the mic and I headed towards the band. I smiled at the guitarist who handed me his instrument. I hoped it didn’t get damaged during this act. It was an expensive and very well-kept guitar.

  Katrina glanced at me over her shoulder. I gave her nod and she took the mic. She started with Wicked Games. No introductions were necessary.

  Katrina was an incredible singer and she rocked the song like a pro. For most of my pieces recently, the intent has been to put people to sleep. This was the first one that I wanted them to dance.

  By the time Katrina hit the second chorus, I was pouring all my energy into the music to make people move. I made the beats as sexy and provocative as possible. Wicked Games had a contagious beat that made you want to slow dance, so I was scared I put too much heat into it. People were dancing, though, and not only on the dance floor but also on the tables. The ones on the floor were so close they looked like one person.

  Katrina sang to one side of the room, and when I moved to get a better view, I realized she was singing to Jake. I almost stopped playing. Had Katrina and Jake dated? That would explain the awkwardness between them. I didn’t have the time to ponder their love lives, though, since Katrina cued the band to switch songs. If Wicked Games showcased Katrina’s singing skills, Black Magic Woman put mine to the test. I just prayed I made Santana proud.

  The rest of the song went by in a blur, and the crowd went wild the whole time. Before I knew it, Katrina dragged me off stage towards Jake.

  “That was intense. Isis, you are phenomenal. We should go on tour,” Katrina said, her words bouncing off the walls in her excitement. I barely heard her, though. Exhaustion had wrapped around me like a blanket. I wondered how much energy it took to create that level of magic.

  “Katrina is right. You are amazing,” Jake told me as we reached his table.

  Katrina stiffened and sobered. She also got extremely quiet.

  “How about business now?” I asked Jake. This situation was too uncomfortable for my taste.

  “I don’t know,” Jake said in a mocking voice. “It’s not like you won using only your talents.” He looked me straight in the eyes as he leaned on his cocktail table.

  “Whose fault is that for picking a musical challenge?” I crossed my arms in front of my chest and shifted my weight to one side.

  “Why are you blaming me?” Jake said, framing his face with his hands to convey innocence.

  “Oh please. You know exactly what I can do, and you still asked for a performance,” I told him. Why did the devil have to mess with me all the time? I was too tired for this.

  “Isis is right,” Katrina told him. “Your crowd is going wild. Now it’s our turn.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Fine, let’s not get nasty now, ladies,” Jake told us with a wave of his hand. I hadn’t even realized his bodyguards were closing in on us. At his signal, they all stepped back. “Why do I have the pleasure of your visit?”

  “We are looking for a half-breed elf named Noah,” I told him quickly. “We were told he might be in hell.” I wasn’t sure if I believed the last part myself.

  “Interesting. But what do you want from me?” Jake asked as he lifted his glass to his lips and took a sip. Although, I had no idea where the glass came from. I was pretty sure it wasn’t there a minute ago.

  “Can you confirm he is there?” Katrina asked him. “We really need to speak with him.” She held his stare.

  “Sorry ladies. That is against the rules,” Jake told us.

  Katrina slammed her fist on the table and scoffed. “Seriously?”

  �
��What rules?” I asked him.

  “We value our clients,” Jake told me. “If any of the living made a deal with one of my people, I don’t intervene. It’s a promise I keep to my people.” Jake gave me another one of his irritating smiles.

  “What does that mean? We didn’t just rock your crowd for nothing,” I told Jake. Inside, I debated whether or not I should choke him.

  “I cannot confirm or deny if your little friend is in hell,” Jake said, playing with his drink. “What I can do is grant you a pass, that way you can check yourself. I would start at the hotel and ask for Ralph.” With a quick flick of his wrist, two gold cards appeared in his hand.

  “Wait. What?” I asked Jake. I didn’t want to go to hell.

  “Don’t tell me you are afraid of a little trip to hell,” Jake teased me.

  “That was way too easy. What’s the catch?” Katrina jumped in, saving me from answering.

  “Oh, come on. Why can’t I just be friendly?” Jake asked, batting his eyes at me innocently.

  “Because you are the devil and you always have ulterior motives,” I told him honestly.

  “True,” Jake admitted, no longer bothering to try and look innocent. “The pass is only for three hours. The clock starts the moment you cross my threshold. You have to find your own way there and back. The catch is if you both are not out of hell before the three hours are up, your body and souls are mine. Happy hunting ladies.” Jake dropped the passes on the table, took his drink, and walked away.

  “At judgement day, if Michael doesn’t nail his ass to the cross, I swear I will.” Katrina’s voice held so much hatred it made me glad she was on my side. Before I could say anything, she marched towards the front door.

  I grabbed the passes and followed her. I never thought I would say this, but I felt bad for Jake. Beware the wrath of a woman. Whatever he had done to Katrina was not good. The devil was screwed.

  Outside the Cave I started to freak out. I was Catholic. I couldn’t go to hell. They might keep me there. I took a lot of deep breaths as we rushed back to the car. My heart rate accelerated to the point I thought I might pass out. Katrina unlocked the car and we climbed in as fast as we could.

  “Isis, what’s wrong?” Katrina asked me.

  I couldn’t talk. In fact, it took every bit of focus I had just to breathe. My chest felt so heavy I didn’t know whether I had an elephant sitting on it or what. I needed a paper bag. Maybe some fresh air.

  What I really needed was to not have to go to hell.

  “Oh Lord, don’t you dare pass out on me. Put your hands over your head and breathe.”

  I followed Katrina’s instructions, breathing in slowly and blowing it out. I did it again and again. Five minutes later, my heart beat slowed down and I didn’t feel like I was going to puke anymore, although my whole body trembled so hard my teeth chattered.

  “Katrina, I can’t go to hell,” I finally told her, trying not to freak out again.

  “Is that why you are freaking out?” Katrina asked me in a calm voice.

  “Yes! I don’t know how you can be so calm.” The words rushed out of me. “You do know I’m a Christian. The only Christian that has been to hell and back is Jesus. Do I look like Jesus to you?” I was pretty sure I sounded irrational.

  “I hope not,” Katrina answered me. “I’m pretty sure Jesus is a guy.” She chuckled.

  I didn’t. Nothing about this amused me.

  “Thanks, but not funny,” I told her. At least she got me to calm down. “Why are you not freaking out?” I really wanted to know her secret.

  “Isis, what do you think the devil and his demons let loose in the jungles of Korea, in the deserts of Iraq, in every major war we have ever had?” Katrina asked.

  “The devil? I thought those wars were man-made.” I had never thought about the conflicts from a supernatural scale.

  “They are man-made and mostly orchestrated by War,” Katrina said, looking straight ahead. “But in the midst of chaos, everyone takes advantage of it. I have fought more demons with human faces than I care to count. So has Bob. You should ask him one day.” She looked at me daring me to question it. “This is just another mission. Yes, we are going to hell, but you are not helpless, so get a grip on yourself.” Katrina focused on the road again.

  I took a deep breath before talking. “I don’t like it,” I finally told her.

  “You said it yourself. You are a Christian,” Katrina told me. “Your Jesus didn’t want to get crucified. He asked his father to take the cup away from him.” I was surprised Katrina knew the story of the garden of Gethsemane. “Like Jesus, you don’t have to like it. You just have to get through it.” She smiled at me.

  “You are taking this very well,” I finally told her.

  “Isis, I don’t have a choice,” Katrina told me. “If we fail, War could send me to hell to live, or any other horrible place for that matter. And it wouldn’t be for a few hours, it would be for a decade.”

  “The real hell?” I asked her, and she just nodded. “Why is he so mad at you?”

  That was a horrible punishment. She couldn’t have done anything that bad.

  “I accidentally started peace in the Middle East,” Katrina whispered.

  “What?” I didn’t think I heard her right. “Is that even possible?” I was pretty sure she was messing with me.

  “I had set up a meeting with all the leaders of the region in an effort to kill the leader instigating peace,” Katrina said. “I didn’t notice when the Chiefs changed seats, but I shot the dictator instead of the pacifist. The execution was flawless. I made it look like the dictator’s troops had taken the shot. So, instead of war, I got unity.” Katrina dropped her head on the steering wheel.

  At times, I forgot the mission of the other horsemen was to bring death and destruction to humanity. Not sure why I was surprised about this.

  “Oh wow,” I said, not able to come up with anything more elegant to say.

  “Tell me about it,” Katrina said, glancing at me. “Have you ever done something that goes totally against your Horseman’s mission and purpose?” Katrina asked, hope filling her eyes.

  “I have made lots of mistakes,” I told her. “But at least I haven’t brought anyone back from the dead. Granted, you can always fix yours and start a new war. If I become a necromancer, I’m pretty sure Constantine would kill me himself.” I had a feeling it wouldn’t be a quick death either, but I didn’t say that out loud.

  “Good point,” Katrina agreed.

  “We don’t have a lot of choices here,” I told Katrina, taking a few deep breaths. “If we don’t find Noah, we might not find the princess, and then a lot of people risk becoming collateral damage. I’m terrified Katrina, but at least you are going with me.”

  “You are not alone, Isis. Now let’s get this show on the road.” Katrina squeezed my hand for moral support.

  I grabbed my phone from the back seat and dialed Reapers. Just because we had a pass to hell didn’t mean I had a clue how to get there.

  “What happened?” Constantine asked in his typical manner.

  “We got a three-hour pass to hell,” I told him as calmly as possible.

  “In that case, you had better hurry. The Boatman’s next pick-up near your area is at midnight,” Constantine told us.

  “Where are we meeting him?” Katrina asked, like this was a normal, everyday conversation.

  “At Alcatraz,” Bartholomew answered.

  “Of course it is,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “We are sending instructions to George to have the plane ready,” Constantine jumped in. “He will have your backpack ready as well.”

  What backpack was Constantine talking about? Who did I look like? Dora the Explorer?

  “Ladies, be careful,” Bob added. “Don’t trust anyone there.” The sound in Bob’s voice made me wonder if he had ever been to hell.

  “Isis, I am sending you instructions now. You don’t have a lot of time,” Bartholomew said. “After y
ou land in San Francisco, it’s a forty-minute drive to the coast, followed by a twenty-minute boat ride to the island. You better get moving.”

  That was a tight schedule. Bartholomew was right. We had better get moving.

  “Go,” Constantine ordered before disconnecting the call.

  “No turning back now. We got this,” Katrina told me.

  “We got this, but we need to make a quick detour,” I told her. “We are not going to hell empty handed.” I sent a quick text before searching the GPS for my new destination.

  It was a blessing Katrina drove like a Nascar Driver. She made up the time we lost in our detour. We had a smooth flight and plenty of time to change into fighting gear. I was not heading to hell wearing a party dress. We missed the traffic in San Francisco, but Katrina still had to speed. I inspected the famous backpack during the drive and was not sure how any of the stuff inside would be useful. I also carried a box the size of a shoebox, only thinner. It was labeled Boatman. Then I had a giant chocolate bar for Fluffy. I sure hoped Fluffy had the biggest chocolate addiction in the world, because this bar was at least ten pounds. Even with all that, I was grateful the backpack still had enough room for my own stuff.

  Bartholomew had secured a speedboat for us that was parked at the marina. I was hoping we had really good insurance on that thing, since I was pretty sure it belonged to us. We made it to Alcatraz ten minutes before midnight. Katrina got us to the island and I jumped off to tie the boat. I watched Katrina do it when we got the boat, so I figured it wasn’t that hard. After a little trial and error, the boat was secured and we ran across the island. Fortunately, the Boatman made his pickup on this side of the island and we didn’t have to go inside the prison.

  “What is that sound?” I asked Katrina as I stopped running.

  “What?” Katrina asked me when she realized I had stopped running.