by T R Kohler
As out of place in the complex as the cottage itself, Kaia pulled to a stop behind it. Glancing to Ember, she checked the number again before commenting, “This looks like the place.”
The building had the same basic cosmetics as those around it, though the similarities stopped there. While many were three stories in height, with at least a half-dozen units per floor, this one was a single level tall.
Only one sidewalk snaked from the parking space to the front door, that being the sole entrance to the place. Blinds were pulled in the windows along either side, blocking the interior from view.
“Any idea what we’ll find up here?” Ember asked.
“Nope,” Kaia said.
Thinking back to the last time they had approached a property they didn’t know anything about, Ember couldn’t help but recall the encounter with the angels. Or the aftermath of it stretched across her skin.
“And we’re sure that walking up there unarmed again is a good idea?”
Reaching for the door, Kaia pushed out, glancing across to Ember. “This time, we’re not unarmed.”
Leaving it at that, she swung away from the car. Pausing just slightly along the front fender, she waited for Ember to join her before the two headed up the walkway together.
With each step Ember could feel her nerves tingling, more sweat rising to the surface. Flicking her gaze to either side, she strained to hear anything from within, to smell the slightest hint of somebody cooking.
Anything that might give them a tip as to what they were facing.
As best she could tell, there was nothing.
Keeping her pace even with Kaia’s, she headed for the front. Unsure what weapon her colleague was referring to, not seeing anything in her hands beyond the car keys, Ember bit back any trepidation she was feeling.
Worst case, she would catch another punch or two. But like Kaia had said, it wasn’t as if she could be killed again.
Reaching the door first, Ember extended a fist to knock. Her hand made it no more than halfway there before the door swung open, a man standing before them.
Not expecting either, Ember paused, blinking quickly, her mind fighting to process what she was seeing.
“Man, I have been waiting for somebody to show up,” the man said, a smile on his face.
Dressed in boxer shorts and a tank top, he wore a satin robe of purple and gold hanging open over them. Curly hair covered most of his head, a grizzled beard taking care of the bottom half of his face. At least fifty pounds overweight, what could be seen of his cheeks was bright red.
“I mean, I wasn’t actually expecting you two to be the first here,” he added, raising his hands to either side and extending them forward.
Looking to Kaia, he said, “A demon...” Rotating at the waist, he gestured to Ember and said, “And...wow, that is some shiner you’ve got there.”
For as many questions as Ember had upon their arrival, dozens more came pouring in, none more glaring than the obvious.
“Wait,” Kaia asked, “you can see us?”
“Of course,” the man replied. “Why do you guys think I called you?”
Chapter Thirty-Six
John Lee Tam had no way of knowing how much time had elapsed. If he was forced to guess, he would imagine at least a day, though there was no way to be certain.
Not stuck in the timeless environment of his holding cell, the lights always on, no windows or doors to let in light, much less any clocks.
And definitely not while slipping in and out of consciousness, his body no match for the sheer amount of trauma it had been through.
The sequence had started with holy water. Forced down his throat, tossed across his skin, it had stripped away layers of flesh. A cross between a chemical burn and a blow torch, it had ignited every nerve ending in his body, lighting him up from within.
By the time that portion of things was over, his entire form was soaked. Sweat, blood, urine, every bodily fluid that could be excreted had, many times over.
Panting and exhausted, Tam had hovered on the border of consciousness, trying to fight off dehydration.
And that was before the man had gone to work with that damn knife of his.
Many times over the years, Tam had been cut. A man doesn’t live for more than a century, doesn’t grow up on the streets of Hong Kong or spend a career working in high-end antiquities, without the occasional slash.
While painful, occasionally bloody, never had he experienced anything like that.
Starting on the still-festering wounds left by the holy water, the man had peeled away the charred flesh one layer at a time. Working like an archeologist on a treasure find, he had scraped away one full cross-section of skin before moving on to the next one.
Each just as excruciating as the one before.
What it was he thought Tam knew could only be guessed at, the full extent of his knowledge expelled after being forced to drink the holy water. After that, he couldn’t tell if the man was actually looking for information, or just enjoying the process.
Still seated in the same metal chair in the middle of the room, Tam’s chin was against his chest. His shirt was still damp, the sealed air of the room already supersaturated, unable to absorb even another drop.
The scents of urine and excrement hung heavy, both soiling his boxer shorts, his bindings prohibiting him from going anywhere to relieve himself.
Not once in the preceding century had Tam regretted his decision. The life he led was far from perfect, and over the years he’d repeatedly wrestled with his conscience, but by and large, it was all worth it.
Each year was more exciting than the one before, the stretch of human and technological capabilities outstepping anything he could have ever imagined. Vividly he could recall once asking his parents if anybody had ever been to the moon, their response raucous laughter.
Now, that was an eventuality almost fifty years in the past.
To think what the coming days might hold.
Sitting in the brightly lit room, his body fighting for survival, for the first time he thought he no longer wanted to do it. Not at this cost, not bearing these scars forevermore.
His mind barely able to string together a coherent line of thinking, the sound of the lock turning on the sole doorway into the room barely penetrated Tam’s psyche. Not until it swung open, a puff of cooler air hitting his skin, did he raise his head.
Staring out beneath heavily lidded eyes, he watched as the man stepped back inside. In his hand was a glass of water and a bowl of rice, the jug and knife nowhere to be seen.
Not that that did anything to calm Tam’s nerves.
Straining against his bindings, he twisted himself in his seat. Clamping his jaw and his eyes both down tight, he pulled back as far as possible, feeling the fibers of the ropes holding him in place digging into his wrists.
“No,” he muttered, the sound just barely audible. “No.”
Stepping inside, the man closed the door behind him. He walked forward, the items held before him, stopping just short of Tam.
“You don’t have to be afraid. I will not hurt you anymore.”
Gone was the tone the man had taken on his previous trip. In its place was one of placation, so soft it resembled a parent speaking to a young child.
“I am sorry to have hurt you at all.”
The words did nothing to abate the fear within Tam. A person didn’t live as long as he had without seeing every possible ruse that someone could attempt.
Usually, this sort of thing was best handled with two people, one the proverbial good cop, the other bad. In this case, it seemed the man was intent on trying to play both, hoping the meager offerings of food would be enough to erase what had happened before.
“My name is Jonas. I am an angel. Much like you work for Hell, I work for Heaven.”
Bending at the waist, he set the food and water down on the floor. Leaving them there, he took a step forward, causing Tam to strain harder against the ropes. Fresh droplets o
f warm blood oozed from his wrists, running down the length of his fingertips as he tried to pull away, every muscle fiber in his body pulled taut.
Seeming to ignore it completely, Jonas continued forward, kneeling beside the chair. Using his fingers, he deftly unknotted the ropes from around the bottom rungs, leaving them to swing free from Tam’s wrists, before stepping back.
“I was only doing my job,” Jonas said.
To that, Tam gave no response. Despite being free, he didn’t move an inch, didn’t bother to even open his eyes.
“We were told the situation was beyond dire,” Jonas said. “I am sorry, but there was no time, and we needed the information you had.”
The floor squeaked slightly as he took another step back, a gap opening between the two of them.
Even as he went, the sound of his voice growing more distant, Tam refused to move, to allow the man to think what he was doing was working in the slightest.
From what he could remember, the day before they had eventually drawn from him that there was a middleman, a person named Will Carlow, who was said to have a seller with an item of extreme value.
An item that went well beyond the usual sort of thing that passed through his shop, the wealth it possessed far beyond any mortal currency.
“Please, eat.”
A moment later, Tam heard the door swing shut. Forcing himself to remain motionless, he counted off seconds in his head, waiting through more than a minute of total silence before slowly unclenching. Cracking open a single eye, he rotated his head an inch toward the door, surveying the room, before opening them both and turning to face forward.
Remaining still another moment, he waited to ensure the man wasn’t set to return, before the depleted state of his body won out. Sliding forward to his knees, he didn’t even bother lifting the bowl to his face, instead diving straight in, grabbing up mouthfuls of rice like an animal falling to a trough.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The man didn’t bother to usher Ember and Kaia inside. Instead, he left the front door open, disappearing back in the direction he had come from, allowing them to enter as they chose.
Standing on the front step for a moment, Ember reached out and slowly rotated the door closed a couple of inches, enough so that the glass on the top half of it caught their reflection. Not sure what to expect, she waited as her own face came to stare back at her.
That part didn’t so much surprise her.
What did was the being standing to her left.
Gone was any trace of Kaia, or at least the figure that Ember had come to know as Kaia. In its place was something much better described as a creature, an amalgamation of every demon depiction she’d ever witnessed.
Standing more than a foot taller than Ember, she had dark skin stretched across a taut form, sinew and veins bulging. In place of hands were something close to hooves, a part through the middle separating the ends into two broad fingers.
For a head, the figure had an angular face with pointed nose and chin, skull pulled into two spires extended horizontally above the ears.
Not quite horns, but not far off, either.
Had Ember not known already that Kaia was a woman, there would have been no way of determining gender.
Her mouth dropping open, Ember felt her eyes grow wide, three perfect circles all formed on her face. “How...how...?” she managed, nothing further crossing her lips.
“Is this possible?” Kaia asked, the face beside her pulled into a permanent scowl, appearing to be incapable of any further emoting.
“Yeah,” Ember whispered.
“Because I’m letting you,” Kaia said, her tone the sole thing remaining from the previous visage. “You’re still programmed to see you, which is how in the bathroom mirror or when you’re alone, that’s the reflection you get. Around anybody else, it should be the avatar.”
Still trying to work through the creature standing beside her, trying to juxtapose that with the girl she’d been attached to the last couple of days, Ember gave a stiff nod. “Which is why I saw the red hair yesterday at the gallery.”
“Yes,” Kaia said. “And why you usually see my avatar.”
“Right,” Ember whispered. “The one you specifically designed to piss me off.”
Beside her, the beast’s head rocked back slightly, the only indicator that she had smirked.
“Hey, would you rather look at this all day?”
Keeping the door in place another instant, Ember slowly reached out. She grasped the corner of it and pushed it back open, their reflection sliding from view.
Kaia was right. Never again would she say a word about having a half-dressed party girl behind the wheel for them.
Because as she now knew, it could be much, much worse.
“The blonde’s a good look for you,” Ember said. Taking a step forward, she entered the home, the sound of a television playing faintly in the background the only noise. In the air was a smell that vaguely resembled chicken and waffles. “But that still doesn’t answer how any of this is possible.”
Moving inside behind her, Kaia closed the door, her feet loud as they clomped against the hardwood floor.
“No, it does not,” she replied, “but it does tell us why Jonas and Micah showed up yesterday.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The man was waiting in the living room as Ember and Kaia entered. Forming the entire back end of the house, it was framed by floor-to-ceiling glass windows, the Pacific Ocean in the background, small white breakers making streaks across it in both directions.
A few of the windows were splayed open, a breeze blowing through, aided by a pair of overhead ceiling fans.
Along one side of the room was a sectional sofa of white leather, either end positioned to align in perfect symmetry with the room. Opposite it was the largest television Ember had ever seen, much bigger even than the eighty-inch model her ex-husband had insisted on buying.
Between the two was a coffee table loaded with food and drinks, as if a party was set to begin. Among the items strewn across it were the standard chips, candies, and pretzels, along with other delicacies, the source of the aroma Ember had picked up earlier.
Seated in the middle of the long portion of the couch, the man rested with his arms thrown across the back, a smile on his face. His legs extended before him, his ankles were crossed, matching the way Kaia had been sitting earlier in the day.
“Ladies, welcome.”
Glancing over to the spread, Ember asked, “You expecting someone?”
A look passed over the man’s face, a mix of confusion and hurt. “Yeah. Like I said earlier, you.”
Ignoring the comment for the time being, Ember cut a glance to Kaia. Walking forward, she made her way to the window, staring out at the view.
By any appreciable definition, it was magnificent. Up close, she could see a thin sliver of golden sand below, a handful of beachgoers dotting it.
“C.D. Waterman,” she said. “Cute.”
“Thank you,” the man replied, his reflection in the glass beside Ember revealing the smile to have grown even larger. “It is nice to be appreciated.”
Leaving that alone for the time being as well, Ember moved her focus back to the ocean. She watched it for a moment, the blue much lighter than she was used to in Seattle. Stretched to the horizon, she let her gaze linger before slowly bringing it upward, ending with her own reflection just inches from her nose.
Not the one with the frizzy red hair, but the Ember she was used to seeing. The one that she had woken up to for decades.
The one that now looked like she had been on the losing end of a fight with vintage Mike Tyson.
Turning back from the window, she felt the initial surprise of the visit pass. Along with it went the various confusions of the morning, even the remains of the pain she was feeling from the day before.
Flicking a look to Kaia, she saw the pointed chin dip just slightly, giving her the go-ahead. In the presence of the man, she didn’t app
ear to have any intention of bothering with the avatar.
A move that could be apathy or by design, Ember not yet sure.
Since waking up in Hell, the moments had been very few that she felt like she was in control. A minute or two at the gallery. Nominally more while questioning Will Carlow.
It was a feeling she missed already.
This guy, this arrogant smiling bastard, didn’t stand a chance.
“What’s your real name?”
Walking forward, she positioned herself just inside the corner of the sectional, making the man turn his head to face her. Crossing her arms, she remained standing, her mouth pressed into a tight line.
“Wow, you get right to it, don’t you?” the man replied. Extending a hand, he motioned to the spread and said, “Why don’t you sit down? Have some food? We’re just getting started here.”
Again, Ember cut a glance over to Kaia. She held it long enough to make a point, her cohort catching the hint and moving into position.
Taking just a pair of steps forward, she matched Ember’s post on the opposite side, the three forming a triangle, the two women and the couch hemming the man in.
For all the bravado his perch was meant to exude, he had made an enormous tactical mistake. That realization seemed to pass over his features with a quick flicker, the smile wavering just slightly before springing back into place.
“Your name?” Ember said.
Unable to look at the two simultaneously, the man glanced to each before settling his focus on Ember. “I go by lots of names. You can call me Bob.”
The first part of the statement all but confirmed to Ember that the name was false, though for the time being she opted not to press it. Who the man was didn’t matter nearly as much as what he might have.
“Okay, Bob,” she said, putting enough emphasis on the word to let it be known he was fooling nobody, “why do you say you’ve been waiting on us?”
Pulling his arms away from the top edge of the couch, Bob folded them across his stomach. A classic defensive posture, already Ember could see some of the original gusto fading, the man realizing for the first time that he might have overplayed his hand a bit.