Limbo City Lights (Lana Harvey, Reapers Inc.)

by Angela Roquet

  Even if the murders on the sea were solved and living on the water was deemed safe again, I still wasn’t sure Kevin and Eliza would ever move back to the ship. Eliza seemed to be enjoying her new city life, and what made Eliza happy made Kevin happy. It was becoming pretty clear that Bub and I would be shepherding the pack of wild dogs for quite some time.

  Speaking of my demonic partner, the front door opened just before I reached it, and he appeared in a sharp black suit that not even James Bond could top. His dark mane was slicked back and his goatee trimmed to symmetrical perfection. Gold flecks swirled in eyes that always seemed to be caught between biting humor and erotic invitation.

  He was aiming to impress tonight, and while he had certainly hit his mark, I couldn’t say that I was thrilled about it. Of course, I’ve never been too keen on charming vultures.

  “You’re late, love,” he said, pausing to sip at a glass of bourbon cradled in his hand.

  “I got here as fast as I could.” I slipped off my visor and shook my tangled locks, proving my point.

  Bub slipped his free hand around my waist and pulled me in for a chaste kiss. “Your dress is laid out upstairs. I picked out a pair of heels and a few accessories.”

  “I can accessorize myself,” I said, cocking an eyebrow at him. Bub playing dress up with me was a sure sign of nerves. The early drinking too.

  “I was bored,” he groaned, giving me one of his innocent smiles. “Indulge me.”

  I sighed and broke free of our embrace to head upstairs. I needed a shower. And a stiff drink of my own. I met Bub back downstairs forty-five minutes later.

  The little black dress I’d ordered from Lilith Enchanted certainly lived up to the little aspect. The stiff leather bodice had absolutely no give. It dipped too low for my tastes and was only saved by a tulle collar that stretched from the top edge and gathered around my neck. At least the skirt was breathable. It was tulle as well—and practically see-through. The long layers spilled out from under the V of the corset and brushed the tops of my lace-up heels.

  Tiny flies were embroidered all across the material, and the only reason I’d accepted Bub’s accessory selection was because he had picked out the silver fly broach with emerald eyes that he’d bought me for our century anniversary. He had also set aside a black sequined clutch and a Japanese folding fan painted with more green-eyed flies.

  I put the fan inside the clutch along with a can of angelica mace and a pair of my voice-retrieving throwing stars. After six hundred years, no one is dumb enough to go into a room full of demons completely unarmed. My visor was still charging on its docking station, but it wasn’t polite to wear it to a party anyway, so I left it behind.

  After moussing my curls into submission and painting my lips a sinful red, I was ready to raise some hell.

  Bub eyed my clutch as I joined him on the back patio. “I can smell the angelica from here.” His brows drew together disapprovingly.

  “My laser gun wouldn’t fit,” I said, shrugging one shoulder.

  He sighed but didn’t reprimand me further. It would have done no good. Instead, he offered me his arm. I took it, along with his half-empty glass of bourbon. I polished off the drink and set it on the dining room table before we headed outside.

  At the end of the walkway near the river’s edge, Bub dug a coin out of the pocket of his suit jacket and took a deep breath. “Are you ready, love?”

  I snorted. “Only if they have an open bar.”

  * * * * *

  The Inferno Chateau hadn’t changed much over the centuries. Amy was a traditionalist, and while she’d built the place in the early 2000s, the décor had come straight from the Medieval Ages. It looked like a gothic castle, with wrought iron railings encircling the outdoor patios and angular arches framing the windows and doorways.

  The cliff that the massive structure was situated on overlooked a blazing lake of fire, and volcanic hiking trails glowed in the distance. Both features had been selling points for Amy when she bought the land for the chateau.

  Bub and I arrived on the lawn just outside the main entrance. Jumping by coin allowed us to bypass the long line of boats coming in off the Phlegethon River, plus all the chaos swarming the red carpet that led from the small dock up to the chateau.

  I tugged at Bub’s arm, urging him toward the door, but we weren’t fast enough. A reporter from Limbo Weekly spotted us, and a light on her visor flickered as she discreetly recorded us making our getaway. The footage was probably already live on their virtual newsstand.

  “Rude,” I hissed under my breath. “Who invited the press?”

  Bub smirked. “Who didn’t?”

  We reached the threshold and stepped inside, and I bit back my irritation as Asmodeus stopped to greet us.

  “Heya, doll,” he said, touching the brim of his black fedora before taking my hand up to kiss my knuckles. He’d abandoned his throwback, pinstripe suit for a more modern style, but he’d kept the hat. He knew how much I liked it, and after all, I was the one he needed to win over tonight.

  “Asmodeus, old sport!” Bub took his hand next and gave it a squeeze, placing his other hand on the demon’s shoulder. “Where’s your better half?”

  “Oh, she’s around here somewhere,” Asmodeus said, glancing back through the crowded foyer behind him. “I better go shake some more hands. I’ll let Jenni know you’re here when I bump into her again.”

  I had to refrain from making another face. The idea of Bub working for my boss’ beau rubbed me wrong for some reason. Like it would somehow give Jenni more leverage over me. Not that she was a bad boss. She’d just gotten awfully comfortable with the politicians, and I had this looming fear that they’d rub off on her. Next thing I knew, I’d be tied up in another game of hot potato with the council. No thank you.

  Bub smoothed a hand down the lapels of his jacket and his forked tongue slipped out to lick his lips. He was nervous, and it made me nervous for him. The most enjoyable way to ease his tension came to mind first, but since that activity would have to wait until much later in the evening, I’d have to settle for the next best thing.

  “Come on,” I said, steering him toward the bar that ran parallel to the foyer.

  The narrow room was sectioned off by a long, hanging sheet of glass so patrons could view the arriving guests from the comfort of their barstools. And a wide window stretched across the opposite wall, giving a view of the congested Phlegethon out front. It was a perfect out-of-the-way spot to people watch, but it was filling up fast.

  I snagged a pair of barstools near one of the exits, while Bub ordered two Pixie Whiskies on the rocks from the demon bartender. The smooth, sweet liquor was shipped in from one of the sacred faerie isles in the Sea of Avalon.

  Morgan and Una had decided to give Eternity another try, two centuries after the massacre in the throne realm. Their exports were few, but they were in such high demand that they could charge whatever they wanted. The Pixie Whiskey was nearly eight hundred a bottle. Luckily, the Hell Committee had gone with an open bar. Though it was likely to be their last after Bub and I were done with them. We were on our third glass each when Jenni finally tracked us down.

  “You didn’t return my call,” she said by way of greeting. A black leather dress hugged her thin frame. Being out of the field for so long had done a number on her. Bony shoulders peeked out over capped sleeves, and a delicate leg slipped through a thigh-high slit in her dress. The material looked soft and supple, not at all like the stiff corset squeezing my innards into submission. With her hair pulled back in a pair of chopsticks, Jenni looked elegant enough for a runway.

  “When did you call?” I asked, enunciating my words carefully so they wouldn’t slur.

  “A few hours ago, just after I sent Ben Holt’s leftover souls your way.” She raised a perfectly pruned eyebrow.

  “Kevin and Eliza are taking care of those,” I said, waving a hand as I took another sip from my glass.

  “I assumed as much. I called to tell yo
u what I found out from Ben.”

  I set my drink down on the edge of the bar and patted Bub’s arm to let him know I was stepping out. He pressed a quick kiss to my temple before going back to his conversation with Iblis, the Islamic devil and leader of the Djinn.

  Jenni led me back into the foyer and down an opposite hallway that was more discreet. She glanced behind us, as if worried someone might be eavesdropping. I tucked my clutch under one arm to free my hands so I could wring them. So much for dousing my anxiety with booze.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

  When Jenni faced me, lines creased her face around her eyes and mouth. “Ben saw it, and if he’s right, it’s much worse than we imagined.”

  I scoffed and tried to smile at her. “I’ve taken on wild hellcats and renegade gods. How much worse can it be than that?”

  “I think the hellcats might be where this new trouble stemmed from.” Jenni grimaced and glanced back at the foyer. I knew who she was watching for now.

  When displaced rebels from the Second War of Eternity began releasing hellcats into the mortal realm, the Afterlife Council declared open season on the beasts. The ones that were slain Eternity-side were ground into Cerberus Chow, and their hides were used for everything from chew treats to upholstery. The seat on my air bike was even hellcat hide—of course, that hide had come from Hades’ Ranch.

  It hadn’t taken long for hellcats to be brought to the brink of extinction. Between Hades’ business concerns and his wife Persephone’s bleeding heart, they pleaded with the council to let them raise the beasts, not just for profit, but to protect them as an endangered species. It had taken several rounds of negotiations, but the council finally agreed under the condition that they clipped the hellcats wings and kept them in an electric enclosure.

  Hellcats weren’t meant to be tamed. And they were mean sons of Satan. They would burrow under the fencing or slam one another into the transformers until they killed the containment charge. Hades tried sedatives in their feed and castration for all but the top breeders. Nothing seemed to help, until Persephone recruited a soul from the Isles of Eternity who happened to be a geneticist.

  By some mad scientist mojo that went way over my head, the guy crossed hellcat DNA with a smidge of selkie and a dash of Hydra. The cats still looked like cats. Mostly. But the selkie blood drew them to water. So when Hades dug a lake in the middle of his ranch, the containment issue was solved.

  The Selkie DNA also allowed the hellcats to shed their hide. Pretty handy for the textile end of the business. Add in a little extra greed, and that’s where the Hydra DNA made sense. When the discarded hides were snatched up, the hellcats would just grow back new ones. Cha-ching!

  Hades and Persephone were living it up in the underworld. They were practically royalty. Which made Jenni’s nervous whispering understandable. She would have to have some pretty solid evidence before throwing accusations at that power couple.

  “So are you going to tell me what Ben saw or what?” I hissed at her as she paused to scan the foyer yet again.

  “It was definitely some variety of hellcat.”

  “Yes. And?”

  “But bigger, and faster.” Jenni sucked in a slow breath. “And it eats souls.”

  “Eats souls?” I covered my mouth with my hand and blinked at her while my brain tried to Frankenstein up a visual of the creature. “You don’t think Hades—”

  Jenni silenced me with a cold stare. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. All we know for certain is that some new or rare creature is plaguing the Sea of Eternity.”

  “And eating souls,” I added, wondering how that didn’t immediately warrant an inquisition. I guess Hades carried even more clout that I realized. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

  Jenni sighed and gave me a patronizing look. “You’re captain of the Special Ops Unit. Who else do you think I’m going to enlist to help get to the bottom of this disaster?”

  That earned her a laugh. “I don’t know what you expect me to do. This sounds like something you should put the Nephilim Guard on. Aren’t they responsible for patrolling the sea?”

  “Yes, but you live in Tartarus, just a hop and a skip away from the ranch,” Jenni said through clenched teeth. “Maybe you could stop in for a little visit and make sure nothing fishy is going on?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Super.”

  “There you are,” Bub’s musical voice cut through the chatter echoing about the chateau. He and Asmodeus were migrating toward the end of the foyer. Everyone was making their way to the ballroom for the opening ceremony of the convention.

  Jenni and I merged in line with our demonic dates, and I bristled as Cindy Morningstar slinked past us. Even though she was no longer an elected member of the committee, she attended every social event they hosted. And as a former ambassador on the Afterlife Council, she was still considered a guest of honor, affording her the right to bypass long lines and be seated up front.

  Asmodeus and Jenni could have used their status to line-jump too, if they’d wanted. But they had more class than that. They inched down the hallway with Bub and me until we reached the double doors that opened into the ballroom. Then we parted ways, and Bub and I were directed to a small table a few rows away from the raised platform set up in front of a trio of gothic, arched windows.

  A dusty red and purple sky glowed in the distance, but it wasn’t enough light to fill the ballroom. Glass orbs filled with hellfire levitated overhead, lighting the apocalyptic scenes painted on the ceiling of the grand room, and cylindrical vases filled with more hellfire rested in the center of each table.

  Another demonic waiter brought Bub and me two fresh glasses of Pixie Whisky. I nursed mine slowly this time as I thought about what Jenni had revealed.

  Hades and Persephone had always been kind to me. I’d even helped retrieve Hades’ legendary Cap of Invisibility when it had been stolen by Loki. And my hellhounds were from a litter of Cerberus’. They were also mine and Bub’s closest neighbors. I didn’t want to believe that they were building better monsters just down the river from us.

  Whispers swirled around the room when Hades and Persephone arrived. It was the star-struck variety of gossip, not the fearful, malicious sort that would plague them if it got out that they were the prime suspects in my investigation. A stab of guilt sent me reaching for my drink again when Persephone’s eyes fell on me and her face lit with a smile.

  I returned the gesture as genuinely as I could, and then quickly looked away to take in the rest of the crowd. Amy and Gabriel were vacationing in Summerland with Ellen and Ross. I wanted to be irritated that they hadn’t invited me and Bub along, but I knew Bub would have declined because of the upcoming convention. I was surprised that Amy hadn’t made a fuss about missing it, though she had grown weary of politics in the last century.

  When everyone was settled in the ballroom, a pair of Djinn cellists played a few dark notes to silence everyone. Then Asmodeus took to the podium to begin the opening ceremony. In Latin. As if I didn’t have a big enough headache already.

  My Latin was sharper these days, but not so sharp that I cared to follow along with the ego-stroking that was most definitely going to consume the majority of Asmodeus’ speech. I would raise my glass when everyone else did, and I would clap along with a forced smile when Bub was announced. That was all that was really required of me tonight.

  While I waited for my cues, I sipped on my whiskey and let my eyes rove over the crowd. As the sky darkened outside, the hellfire flames burned more brightly, dancing off lustrous leather here and a swath of sequins there. Everyone was dressed in black, but the assortment of fabric and textures created a pleasant contrast that even my booze-bleary eyes could appreciate.

  A strange sound tickled my ears, just barely audible over Asmodeus’ commanding voice. I glanced around the room again, and then something more than apparel snagged my attention. I blinked a few times to make sure I wasn’t imagining things.


  Three scaly, red fingers tapped the surface of a table a few rows away. Where the pinky should have been, there was a pointed, silver prosthetic. It clicked softly against the surface of the table, dancing hellfire reflecting off the shiny metal.

  No way. It couldn’t be her.

  I stretched back in my chair, trying to see around the demons blocking my view, and caught a sliver of her face from under a frilly, netted hat.

  The whisky suddenly felt like it was burning a hole through my stomach. Adrenaline shot through me, pulling a soft gasp from my lips. I turned to Bub and grabbed his arm just as Asmodeus called his name.

  My startled alarm caused me to hesitate, and Bub gave me a strained smile as he tried to stand up from our table. “Alright, love?”

  “Yes,” I snapped, letting him go with an awkward smile.

  I stood and clapped along with everyone else, watching helplessly as he made for the stage to join Asmodeus and the rest of the Hell Committee. When I glanced over my shoulder next, the succubus was gone.

  Before the crowd settled, I scooped up my clutch and cut through the sea of bodies, making my way toward the back exit. Bub was going to kill me for missing his big speech, but I’d heard it a dozen times already. In English and Latin.

  An ex-rebel showing her face at a Hell Committee meeting was not a good sign. Especially this particular rebel. If anyone knew who was behind the sea attacks, it would be her.

  The last time I’d seen the succubus had been at an arranged blackmail meeting I agreed to in order to save Bub’s life. His cover had been blown among the rebels, and the Hell Committee had been content to cut their losses and write him off as collateral damage. But not me.

  The blackmail meeting had been an ambush, of course. What else could be expected of demonic renegades? I’d planned for the backstabbing, and we were saved by the grace of our own trickery. But that wasn’t when she’d lost the pinky. That had been several meetings prior, before I learned that her affair with Bub was part of his cover. In a jealous rage and in the heat of battle, I’d relived her of the pinky with my battle axe. I regretted nothing.