The Lily Harper 8 Book Boxed Set

by HP Mallory

  “Number two, come on!” Ael yelled. “I ain’t got all day, woman!” I busted out my next skull crusher, glaring at the Handrels as I did so. I kept the bar straight. “Number three!” Taking a breath, I brought the bar back over my head again.

  “Dude!” Bill’s voice suddenly exclaimed as he appeared directly over me. Consequently, I lost control of the bar and not one, but both Handrels bit my index fingers at exactly the same time.

  “Son of a bitch!” I wailed, glaring at Bill as soon as I straightened the bar again. “Bill, can’t you see I’m busy?!”

  Bill nodded, giving a two-second glance to the Handrels before facing me again. “Sorry, Lils, but I totally just experienced peehicular manslaughter in the men’s room.”

  “What the hell you talkin’ ‘bout?” Ael asked, his voice as irritated as mine must’ve been.

  Bill nodded with glee, seeming incredibly anxious to enlighten us both, using his hands dramatically like he was planning to mime his story. “I was usin’ the urinal, an’ this freakin’ dude comes up next ta me an’ starts pissin’; an’ next thing I know, his piss is splashin’ out o’ the toilet an’ all over me!” he continued nodding vehemently, like it was too unbelievable to be true. “So I’m like: dafuq, yo? Right?” But Bill didn’t wait for anyone to respond. “Right!” Then he shook his head. “So now I’m stuck with some other dude’s piss all over my leg an’ Demon Bright here,” he glanced over at Ael, “don’t have a single goddamned shower in this shitbox.” He shook his head again. “Fuuck.” Then he looked at me. “The dude was totally sportin’ Eau de Douche anyway. Could smell him a mile away.”

  “You done lost your damn mind,” Ael replied, shaking his head, before looking at me. “I got no idea what the hell …”

  “I know,” I interrupted as I rolled my eyes, staring back at Bill as I shook my head. “No one ever knows what he’s talking about!”

  “Eau de Douche!” Bill repeated like we were both dumb. “You know, that obnoxious, headache causin’ cologne cloud that always hangs over those beefy, tight-ass shirt-wearin’ dudes who are really just total douche bags.” He nodded at both of us, like he’d just made a really good point. “An’ they’re such posers too! Freakin’ frauders! They wanna come off like they’re loaded, but the truth is they’re nothin’ but a bunch of fake Armani-wearin’ Splenda daddies ’cause they ain’t got the funds to pull off bein’ a real sugar daddy!”

  Ael pointed to the front of the gym and said with no slack in his jaw at all, “You’re not allowed back here no more. You stay up front an’ keep yourself occupied ’cause you’re gonna make me lose mah shit.”

  “I’m just sayin’!” Bill frowned as he held up his arms in submission. “CTFD yo … Calm the fuck down!”

  “Outta here!” Ael yelled at him as Bill shrugged once more and started for the front of the gym. Then looking back, first at Ael, then at me, before taking stock of the entire gym, he asked, “Anyone got one o’ them handheld Nintendos? ’Cause I got a whole bucket o’ nothin’ ta do right now.” No one responded and he shook his head. “Shit, this is totally gonna suck.”

  ***

  I’m not sure if our gym visit really sucked for Bill, but it definitely sucked for me. I couldn’t remember a time that I’d ever attempted to do anything so physical. And now, as Bill and I followed Tallis back through the woods, I had half a mind to ask Tallis to carry me the rest of the way.

  After three sets of fifteen reps of skull crushers, which coincidentally hurt my fingers more than my skull, we moved on to dips and chest presses. The chest presses equated to a straight bar with the burdensome head of a demon on either end. Apparently, Tallis wasn’t the only one fond of killing demons and keeping their heads. However, as far as I knew, Tallis didn’t go so far as to use them for chest pressing...

  After the demonic head chest presses, we practiced bicep curls and seated rows. From there, we ventured into lower body territory, which included so many squats, my butt felt like it might fall off. But Ael, just as expected, didn’t offer any sympathy at all. Instead, we then began three sets of fifteen reps of lunges. After the lunges came the leg extensions, and then, the leg curls. By that time, I felt like I’d been hit by a Mack truck.

  “But the worst had to be the deadlift,” I said as I glanced over at Bill and shook my head. I felt like I’d earned the opportunity to feel sorry for myself. Tallis was already five or so paces ahead of us, which seemed to be the rule, rather than the exception. “Or maybe the burpees.”

  “You mean vurpees,” Bill said with a smug smile and a chuckle. “Anytime I watch people doing those, I vomit a little in my mouth.”

  I shook my head. “You were totally reaching with that one, Bill.”

  “What?” he demanded, puffing out his chest in defense of his pride and acting like I was being completely unreasonable. “Reaching? What you talkin’ ’bout, Willis?”

  “Burpees and a vurp have nothing in common.”

  He frowned at me. “An’ tell me just how in the hell you would even know that? It’s not like you speak cool.”

  “Because I can figure it out!” I railed back at him. I was tired and sore so my temper had a very short leash. “A vurp clearly is a burp laced with vomit. And a burp laced with vomit has absolutely nothing to do with a burpee, aside from the fact that they rhyme.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “But nice try.”

  “Well excuse the shit outta me for makin’ a funny-ass joke even if it doesn’t meet Your Royal Hostess’s joke standards!” Bill said as he frowned at me.

  “It’s Royal Highness,” I corrected him. “Hostess makes Twinkies and Ding Dongs.”

  “Whatevs,” he mumbled as he rubbed his stomach. “What I wouldn’t do for a Twinkie.” Then he glanced up at Tallis who was still ahead of us by about ten feet and frowned. “I’m sick of eatin’ Shrek food.”

  I smiled and patted his arm in a feeble attempt to make amends. Then I took a deep breath and let it out, realizing I shouldn’t have jumped down Bill’s throat. Especially after he’d been a good friend and hung out in the front of the gym with nothing to do for two hours. “Sorry, Bill. I’m just really exhausted.”

  “It’s okay, sugar nipples,” Bill responded with a big grin, his hurt feelings suddenly forgotten which made me wonder if they were really ever genuine in the first place. “So you were saying the deadlift was the worst,” he started, clearly attempting to mend our little rift. “How come?”

  I smiled at him, grateful he was my friend and someone to keep me company in this godforsaken place because Tallis definitely wasn’t the sociable type. I sighed and tried to remember the worst part of my training. Ah, yes, the deadlifts …“Because it was so difficult to lift up the Intonker, and the thing looked scary as hell.”

  An Intonker was yet another species of demon. Somehow, and I imagined it was probably against Afterlife Enterprises policy, Ael managed to collect ten demons of different species. Some of the more domesticated ones, i.e., the Handrels, were allowed to roam somewhat freely inside the gym. Because Intonkers were, apparently, easily angered and possessed foul tempers in general, all three of them were hogtied and used for exercises like the deadlift. The only other type of demon I saw was tethered outside the gym. It was tied to a tree, but had a long enough rope to allow it to chase people, thereby improving their running speeds.

  As to the proper procedure for doing an Intonker deadlift, Ael ordered me to bend over with a straight back, then reach down and grab the ropes binding the creature before simply standing up again. But my grip on the ropes had to be wide enough that the demon couldn’t crane its neck around and sink its unlimited fangs into my arm.

  Unlike the Handrels, that were somewhat harmless since they could only take a small bite out of you, the Intonkers weren’t. They were much larger, about the size of a boar, and just as thick. They were the color of deep swamp water and the texture of their skin felt like rough leather. Their faces were the worst part about them—completely hideous. Their squari
sh heads had jaws that were very angular and pronounced, with exaggerated underbites. Their fleshy jowls hung all the way down to their necks, sort of resembling a bulldog’s muzzle, but only slightly. They certainly didn’t share any of the bulldog’s charm though. Their myriad, razor-sharp teeth protruded every which way, filling their mouths until they looked like they were sucking on a cluster of white quartz. Their upturned noses were wide with broad, flaring nostrils. Their small, narrow, slit-like eyes glowed yellow and were very intimidating, to say the least.

  “Shit, when I saw you pick that thing up, I thought for sure it was gonna bust through those ropes and swallow you whole,” Bill said with a nod.

  “Oh really? Nice to know that your main concern was finding a Nintendo to play with.”

  Bill was about to respond when the words faltered on his lips. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone which was currently vibrating with a text message. He flipped the phone open, a feat in and of itself, considering it was covered in duct tape from being dropped one too many times. His eyes went wide as he glanced up at me. “It’s from Skeletor Horn,” he said (his pet name for Jason Streethorn, the general manager of Afterlife Enterprises). I felt my heart drop.

  “What … what did he say?” I asked, breathlessly.

  Bill shrugged. “Looks like we’re headed back to the Underground.”

  “Noisome the earth is, that receiveth this”

  – Dante’s Inferno

  FIVE

  Looks like we’re headed back to the Underground.

  They were eight words that I could honestly say I hoped to never hear again. But as a Soul Retriever working for Afterlife Enterprises, I also knew better.

  “Yep, shit just got real,” Bill said, shaking his head as he sighed, letting it be known that he didn’t like the news any more than I did. But because Bill couldn’t be killed, the risks to him were nothing like what they were for me.

  “Why is Jason ordering us to go back to the Underground now?” I inquired, angry and worried at the same time. “We just got back!” I yelled at Bill as I shook my head. My stomach had already plummeted to the ground. “Does Jason expect us to leave right now? Tonight? Tomorrow? What?” I didn’t wait for Bill to respond, but started vigorously shaking my head again as I started to seriously freak out. “I’m nowhere near ready to go there again! I still can’t defend myself!” My voice sounded panicky as I turned to face Tallis who was already looking my way, his face expressionless, as usual. “My training has barely even begun! I mean, shouldn’t Jason know that?” I threw my hands up in the air as I railed at Bill again. “What does his text even mean?” But Bill just shrugged as if to say he was just the messenger and didn’t appreciate being shot.

  “I would take it to mean that we’re goin’ back to the Underground,” he said with another shrug and a sigh.

  “Lemme see,” Tallis ordered as he motioned for Bill’s cell phone. Bill didn’t say anything as he handed the phone over to Tallis who studied it for a few moments. He was, no doubt, trying to figure out where the soul who needed retrieval was located. Mission texts from Afterlife Enterprises always included a live map of whatever area of the Underground City the soul happened to be in. The map acted like a homing device by reporting the soul’s current location in real time. So that way, no matter where the soul went, we would be able to track it … er, him or her.

  “Circle Two,” Tallis said with a nod as if he were familiar with that area of the Underground City.

  “What’s in Circle Two?” I asked. I was annoyed that I couldn’t recall the answer myself from Dante’s Inferno. Dante’s book was given to me by Afterlife Enterprises upon my acceptance of the position of Soul Retriever. The book was intended to serve as my guide through the Underground City, even though it was way outdated, and definitely slanted to Dante’s own prejudices at the time, i.e., the fourteenth century. Bill and I had a tough time sifting through Dante’s explanations of each level of the Underground because the Underground City wasn’t comprised of levels at all. Rather, it was laid out just like a city, with buildings, streets, and various “citizens” walking about. Tallis explained the discrepancy by comparing it to our own world—just as Earth evolved over time, so did the Underground City. So today, it was just that—a city. After surviving my first mission, which took us to the Underground City’s carnival of nightmares, I could only wonder what lay in store for us now.

  As to Circle Two and what awaited us there, panic started to breed inside my stomach and made me feel like I might throw up. Not to mention the sweat that was already beading along the small of my back and hairline. I not only felt sick, but also clammy and wet. Images of our previous trip to the Underground City suddenly overtook me as memories of the demon clowns, Ragur and Kipur, flashed through my mind. To make a long story short, I’d come very close to losing my life on that trip.

  I started to feel faint.

  “The sewer,” Tallis replied as he handed the phone back to Bill, although his facial expression was still unreadable. “Circle Two is the sewer aqueduct o’ the Oonderground City.”

  “Great,” Bill grumbled as he shook his head. “Love me some shit smell.”

  Tallis crossed his arms over his chest and looked my way, appearing preoccupied, like he was pondering something. Then he started to nod as if something were suddenly occurring to him. “The good news is Ah know a shortcoot inta the sewers,” he started.

  I frowned, not seeing why he seemed so pleased with that information. Shortcuts into a death by sewer didn’t exactly cheer me up very much. “Why is that good news?” I asked.

  “Aye, ’twill give oos some time,” Tallis responded. “Streethorn believes we have ta traverse the River Acheron ta the aqueduct, a four-day’s journey at the verra least.”

  “Four days?” I repeated, my mouth dropping open. The memories of our last voyage through the haunted forest reappeared in my mind. Suffice to say, the expedition to the Underground City was almost as bad as the Underground City itself ...

  Tallis shook his head. “Ah can git oos there in one day.”

  I was quiet for a moment. Stifling the ray of hope that suddenly blossomed, as Tallis’s words started to register, I cautiously asked, “Does … does that mean you’re going to go back down there with us again?” I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. I was deathly afraid any hopefulness I harbored might suddenly be smashed to smithereens if Tallis said that I’d misunderstood him and he had no plans to escort us anywhere.

  Tallis frowned at me. “Aye, lass, ye are hardly prepared ta go; ye jist said so yerself.”

  “Thank you,” I answered automatically, completely ignoring the fact that Tallis was regarding me like I was a halfwit. “Just add that cost on to my list of what I already owe you,” I said, reminding myself and Tallis, for that matter, that we still had to account for the ton of money I already owed him. That ton of money had come about because Tallis wasn’t particularly charitable, and therefore, didn’t work for nothing. Instead, we’d agreed to the sum of fifty thousand pounds that I would pay Tallis to accompany Bill and me to the Underground City the first time around. I also promised to pay Tallis for training me in the art of sword fighting, the sum of which now escaped my mind. At any rate, I was sure that the total well exceeded fifty thousand pounds. Luckily for me, Afterlife Enterprises had to foot the bill. And, no, Afterlife Enterprises hadn’t exactly been informed of their involvement in this arrangement, but I didn’t care. After being granted a constantly full bank account as part of my benefits package when I accepted the job, I planned to use that benefit to the nth degree.

  “We can discoos the particulars later,” Tallis announced. “For now, we have three days in which ye will do naethin’ boot train with yer sword.”

  I swallowed hard and nodded to show my agreement. Even though training with Tallis was no walk in the park, by any stretch of the imagination, at least I’d be spared Ael’s torturous physical boot camp for a few days. Seeing how every
one of my muscles was already aching, any reprieve from Ael was a relief in and of itself. Although spending so much time with Tallis didn’t exactly thrill me either. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Tallis … well, sometimes I didn’t—when he was being a jerk, for example. But there were also times when he seemed like he wanted to let me in, as a friend. Still, most often, whenever Tallis and I spent too much time together, we got on one another’s nerves. Big time.

  “Shit,” Bill announced with a sigh as he eyed Tallis and frowned. “That means we’re gonna hafta stay in your shitbox accommodations again, doesn’t it?”

  Surprisingly enough, a smile broke across Tallis’s face as he turned to me and answered. “Aye, it does.”

  ***

  For the next three days, I trained, and trained, and trained some more. Bill and I stayed in Tallis’s shack and Bill acted like he was on vacation by sleeping in late every morning and going to bed even later. I was up at dawn every day with Tallis’s sword in my face. At the end of the three days, even though I was no master of the sword, I was certainly much better off than before.

  The first lesson Tallis taught me, which took me a while to grasp, was simply relaxing. Tallis explained the perils of being tense while in combat and taught me how to control my nerves so I could remain cool and calm at all times. He showed me how to keep my muscles loose by teaching me how to control my breathing. It was like a form of meditation, but meditation for combat purposes. As Tallis explained, if I was too wound up and tight while fighting, I wouldn’t be able to act with speed. And slow reactions could be fatal. I thought about it, and it made sense because when it came to Tallis and his skills, speed was probably number one on the list.