Pushing Up Posies

by Eve Langlais

  “Well, aren’t you just a ray of sunshine, big boy.” She stopped below him and winked.

  “This is the Grim Guild. You don’t belong here.”

  “Actually, I do. Orders from the big man himself. You know, the guy I call Daddy.” She smirked as she held out a rolled scroll.

  “What the fuck is that?” Was he being summoned? Would the Dark Lord fire him for not bringing in the numbers? Not his fault the Canadians wouldn’t die. At least when they did, most were polite about it.

  “I’m going to Hell?”

  “Yes.”

  “So kind of you to come and escort me.”

  Bambi waggled the scroll. “Consider this document your new mission statement.”

  “My what? Give me that.” He reached for the scroll, but she tucked it behind her back.

  Bambi tsked and shook her head. “Not so quick, big boy. First you’re going to give me a hand up there.”

  “This is the commander’s platform. Only me or my lieutenants are allowed on it.” Not entirely true, but he was loath to have the woman joining him. He had a bad feeling in his gut, as bad as the one he got when the war ended and peace was declared.

  “Would this be the moment I’m supposed to tell you that I’m your new overlady? Because I am. Well, me and my sister. But Muri said she’d handle things on her side while I take care of matters in Hell. Which means you and this guild.” She beamed a saucy smile enhanced by a wink.

  “Like fuck.”

  “No thanks. I’m currently abstaining from casual sex as I’m seeing someone. You might know him. Fellow called War? Stubborn guy. Won’t even hold my hand. But I like a man playing hard to get. Makes it all the sweeter when he becomes mine.” Her smile turned sly.

  “Why don’t you go bang this boyfriend of yours and leave me to do my job.”

  “Alas, my sex life will have to wait. I’m here to fix your guild.”

  “Unless your boyfriend is going to start a war, then you’re wasting my time.”

  “Actually, you’re wasting mine.” Suddenly her mien went from playful to serious with a hint of annoyed. A tiny spark danced in the depths of her eyes, a reminder of her heritage. “My father trusted me with a job and gave me your guild to accomplish it. If you think you’re going to get in my way…” She didn’t finish the threat. She didn’t have to. Everyone knew the consequences of defying the Dark Lord’s wishes.

  “Fucking fine. Get up here so we can talk without so many curious ears,” he growled.

  “I thought you’d never ask, big boy.” She half turned and snapped her fingers. “You and you, give me a boost.”

  Two of his taller guild members stood and cupped their hands. When she stepped into them, they lifted her within reach of Brody, who had no choice. He held out his hand, grasped her slender one in his, and hauled her to his level. He used to have a ladder, but given he could float, when it got borrowed, he didn’t bother replacing it.

  Bambi stepped into his office and cast around a quick glance. “This won’t do at all.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’ll need to call my interior designer. Because that”—she pointed to the far corner with its pallet—“is not a bed. I need something with some springs and a pillow top, not to mention, where is the color? I’m thinking a bit of pink to liven it up. Maybe some flowers. And incense.”

  “There is nothing wrong with my guild.”

  “Says you.” Her nose wrinkled. “I’m all for the scent of people perspiring from work, but I draw the line at the unwashed masses. What happened to your place?”

  Shame struck Brody. He almost ducked his head. “Death isn’t a booming business, not for us anyway. I don’t suppose the Dark Lord is planning to rectify that? Maybe his wife could throw a devastating natural disaster to help boost the morale of my crew.” He swept a hand, noticing they had the attention of most of the members. They just couldn’t hear anything spoken. His office had a cocoon of silence keeping their words private.

  “I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is you’re about to become super busy.”

  “Really? What’s the bad?”

  “You’re no longer going to be collecting souls for my father.”

  “Oh. Then what will we be doing?” Perhaps they’d become part of the legion. An elite fighting force. A—

  “What?” He surely misunderstood her next words.

  “I said, you’re about to become the director of the brand-new and exciting Grim Dating Guild,” Bambi exclaimed.

  “I don’t understand.” He truly didn’t.

  “Read the letter. It explains everything.”

  Except it didn’t. Parts of it stuck out, such as “…you are to facilitate the meeting of those deemed proper mating material with humans. You may also fornicate at will. The more babies, the better…” There was the Dark Lord’s confirmation that, indeed, Bambi and Muriel were to be his new Guild supervisors instead of Mictain, the ancient Aztec death god who’d taken over when the last supervisor went a little crazy and recycled himself into the abyss.

  The letter also made it clear Brody wasn’t being demoted. On the contrary, he would still be a leader with all his reapers below him. His Canadian department would be swallowed by the American guild and become a massive North American one. Brody and his men would create a new kind of guild with the possibility of growing if they did well, with one big caveat. “We’re going to the mortal plane?”

  “Tada! Exciting, isn’t it?” Bambi beamed. “You and your men will go topside to run the operation. I’ll remain behind, coordinating the submission process and then sending you the eligible candidates.”

  It still made little sense. “You want us to communicate with humans?”

  “Only if you have to. So long as you facilitate meetings—aka sexual hookups—your people can remain hiding in the background. Doesn’t it sound exciting?”

  More like a nightmare. Brody felt the beginnings of his first headache since he’d died and agreed to become a reaper. “When does the new job start?”

  “Now. Your first task is to get an office ready to receive the first wave of horny demons. Here’s your keys.” She tossed a jangling ring at him. “If you have trouble with them, talk to the woman across the hall. Oh, and Brody?”

  “What?”

  “Have fun.”

  Before he could pack his things or even argue a bit more, Bambi shoved him. A portal opened, and just like when a soul was ready to cross, he felt a tugging that zipped him through an ether space of nothing and immensity before dropping him onto the mortal plane.

  The new job started now.

  4

  Posie couldn’t help but notice when the new neighbor moved in across the hall. For one, they arrived late in the evening, grumbling and stomping in the hall.

  Rude.

  She glared at the door, her glasses perched on the tip of her nose. She only wore them for reading. Darned paperbacks made the print too small these days.

  “Fucking outrageous.”

  The curse drew her from the chair to the door. She peeked through her little peephole and blinked at the large form in the hall, an amorphous shape hidden beneath a floor-length cloak. The garment might have seemed odd if she didn’t live above some gamers who role-played. She never saw them without their costumes. One fellow liked to wear a full-on white beard and wizard robes while yet another had pointed elf ears and bright green contacts. It still hadn’t prepared her for the guy in the loincloth, carrying a big fake axe, who’d asked if she’d like to come in for a cup of tea. She was sure that was code for “become my buxom maiden in need of saving.” The answer was no.

  Posie not only didn’t dress up for Halloween she was the furthest thing imaginable from the adventurous type. She was a boring secretary for a small law firm dealing in home sales and purchases.

  Day in and out, she saw frazzled people nervously awaiting the paperwork that said they now owed banks for the next twenty some years or fist-pumped as they got a
way from those deadly monthly payments. Nothing even close to the excitement seen with fiery divorces or criminal cases.

  Posie thought the people who signed their lives away to a bank were giving away money. Posie was perfectly happy renting. Let someone else deal with the maintenance and headaches, not to mention the upturns and downturns in the market. She didn’t like change.

  At all.

  A new neighbor wasn’t much change, but that depended on who moved in. Her last neighbor had been the perfect type. Rarely seen. Never speaking, only nodding if they happened to pass in the halls. She never would have imagined he was a serial arsonist who would die in one of the blazes he set. He didn’t even smoke.

  Returning to her chair, she tried to continue reading as the grumbling and thumping in the hall continued. Why so much noise?

  By the time a firm knock came at her door, her annoyance had reached a fever pitch. It didn’t improve when a glance through the peephole showed the hulking, cloaked figure.

  She knew better than to open to a stranger or even pretend she was home. She said nothing.

  “Hello?” A deep, rumbled query that she couldn’t miss hearing.

  She clamped her lips.

  “Are you going to answer the door? I can hear you breathing.” The rebuke was clearly masculine.

  She slapped a hand over her mouth. He surely joked.

  “Are all humans this annoying?” she could have sworn she heard him mumble. “Dammit, I’m not going to harm you. I require aid with the locking mechanism for my apartment.” His odd style of speech held a hint of accent, almost but not quite British.

  “I’m sorry but I can’t help you,” she finally replied.

  “Of course, you can’t,” he drawled. “Isn’t that just the fucking icing on a perfectly shitty day? Then again, why would I be surprised by this era? Everyone is too busy. Fucking self-absorbed assholes.”

  He kept muttering, and she pressed her eye to the peephole to see him at his door again, jiggling the key in the lock. Was it even the correct key?

  Perhaps he wasn’t a new neighbor after all but a robber. Should she call the police? They would want her to file a report and ask questions. Maybe even come inside her place and expect her to entertain them with coffee and donuts as they filled out paperwork.

  Perish the thought.

  On second thought, what kind of robber would knock and ask for help? Not to mention, it wasn’t as if the empty apartment across the way held anything of value. The previous tenant had died, and once the police had finished fingerprinting and tagging items in his apartment, building management had it emptied and cleaned.

  “Stupid lock.” He kicked the door, and she winced.

  She really shouldn’t get involved. Really shouldn’t open the door and say, “These old locks sometimes stick. Let me try.”

  He whirled, the hood of his cloak still hiding his features. “I know how to use a fucking key. It doesn’t work. That twat must have given me the wrong one.”

  Rude. A sexy voice that didn’t match the bad attitude. Still, her good manners prevailed. “Let me see.”

  “Why? So you can agree that I know what the fuck I’m talking about?”

  She pursed her lips. “You know what? Stay out in the hall. See if I care. You can explain it to the police when I call them.” She went to whirl, only to hear him huff.

  “I apologize. If you could provide assistance, it would be appreciated.”

  If he’d not been so polite, she might have ignored him. But…she couldn’t do it. She sighed as she turned around. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  He held out a gloved hand, a finger dangling a set of keys on a ring. The leather covering had her taking a step back. Didn’t serial killers wear gloves?

  He saw nothing amiss and jangled the ring. “It’s got two. One is too small, and the other won’t turn.”

  The keys actually appeared legitimate. She had an almost identical set. “The little one is for the mailbox.” She held out her hand, and he dropped them into her palm. She didn’t move to try them, though. That would bring her too close to him. “Do you mind giving me some space?”

  He took a step back. Not what she’d hoped for; however, she doubted asking him to stand at the other end of the hall would go over too well. She had to be careful to not let paranoia control her. Wearing a cloak and gloves didn’t make him nefarious. Although he could be hiding any number of weapons in its folds.

  She regretted coming out into the hall. The quicker she got the door unlocked, the faster she could escape him.

  The key slid into the lock, and she yanked the handle to draw it tight against the jamb. She wrenched the key to the left, felt it catch. She pulled harder, and it finally clicked. Leaving the key in the lock, she opened the door and stepped away. “There you go.”

  “That was emasculating,” he growled.

  “The trick is to hold it tight, especially when it rains outside and the building gets damp.”

  She couldn’t see his expression, but his entire posture scowled at the offending door. His tone was stiff as he said, “Thank you, ma’am.”

  She could have winced at the ma’am. At thirty-six, surely she wasn’t that old. Still, it was a gesture of respect. “You’re welcome. I guess you’re the new neighbor.” She could have winced at her lame attempt at polite talk.

  “I am. Good evening.”

  And that was it. He went inside, shut the door, and left her staring at it. At least he wasn’t the chatty type. Perhaps he wouldn’t be a bad neighbor to have.

  But she really hoped he got rid of that cloak. Because it was just plain creepy.

  5

  Brody practically slammed the door in the woman’s face. No other choice given his embarrassment. A tiny woman had managed to open the door when a big strong reaper couldn’t? He should hand in his balls now.

  On a positive note, he’d accomplished his first mission. As he’d travelled through the ether from Hell to the mortal plane, the name and address of his victim—er, human potential for fornication—came to him.

  Posie Ringwald. Apartment 5B, which happened to be across the hall from 5A. His new living quarters.

  He stared around the dingy apartment, empty of furniture, not even a pallet. Not that he cared. He didn’t plan to stay here long. Ousted from his office. Told this was a promotion. Maybe someone else would appreciate being dumped here to lead a special project for the Dark Lord. Not Brody.

  He remembered his life as a human, that annoying time before he died and the Dark Lord elevated him to become something else, someone important with power and meaning to his existence. A meaning that had waned in the last few decades, but all he needed was a catastrophe with a massive death toll and he would have turned things around.

  Surely Lucifer didn’t blame him for his guild’s inactivity? Not his fault Canadians were such bloody peacekeepers.

  Before he could stomp around and grumble some more about his apartment, a portal opened, a mere rip that transcended space but not time. Nothing could turn back time, although he’d heard things could be sped up so that folks got the impression they’d projected into the future.

  Hell’s King himself stepped through, and Brody threw himself onto a knee. There was a time and place for disrespect, and it wasn’t when the Devil bestirred himself for a rare visit.

  “Rise, my loyal minion.”

  “Lord.” Brody kept his head bowed. “You honor me with your presence.”

  “I do, don’t I? What can I say? Best king evah!” Appearing as a man in his prime, Lucifer had thick hair black with hints of red, slightly tanned skin, a square jaw, and eyes with pupils of flame.

  “How may I assist you, my lord?”

  “Have you met the girl?”

  “Do you speak of the woman across the hall?”

  “Are you always this deliberately dumb?” Lucifer pinned him with a gaze.

  “Just ensuring clarity, my king.”

  “Why do that? Do you know ho
w many fights would be averted if people took the time to make sure they understood? It would be bad for business.” The Devil grinned.

  Rather than follow the twisted logic, he answered the first question. “I spoke to the female living across the way.” He pointed.

  “What did you think of her?”

  “She’s small.” Short actually, not even reaching his chin. Hard to tell about her physique under her bulky sweater. She’d worn glasses around her neck and her hair in a sloppy tail atop her head.

  “But she’s got great birthing hips.” Lucifer spread his hands.

  “If you say so, sir.”

  “I do say so, loyal Brody. How long before you find someone to plant a seed in her belly?”

  “As soon as possible.”

  “Make it quicker! We’ve no time to waste.”

  “Understood, but you do realize I arrived only a moment before you. I’ll need to set up an office—”

  “Excuses!” Lucifer slashed a hand through the air, and the building shook as thunder crashed.

  “Necessities. My orders, which you wrote, indicated utmost secrecy about this endeavor.”

  “The quietest. Can’t have He-Who-Keeps-Changing-His-Name hearing about it.” Lucifer rolled his eyes.

  “Meaning I must accomplish your task in an organized manner. Once I have a process in place, we’ll bring over the demons who pass submissions.”

  “Not just demons. I’ve got plans to breed the humans with every species I can lay my hands on.” The Devil rubbed them together.

  “Any particular type of demon you’d like me to arrange for this Posie Ringwald?”

  “Someone special. Not a dummy. He should be the commanding type. Smart, too. But loyal. I want her child to be something special.”

  That seemed rather specific and lengthy. Given Lucifer’s interest, Brody had to wonder if the lord was finally going to step out on Mother Earth. That would cause some chaos if she ever found out. Maybe some deaths. Perhaps a return to Hell and his actual job… “Perhaps you have suggestions on who I should match her with.”