A Hollow Cry (After Life Book 1)

by Bee Douglas

  “Kane,” Belial greets me, “we have been wondering when we would hear from you.”

  “This better be good,” Leviathan mutters. The princes are usually clean cut. But tonight, his tie is skewed and his shirt is crumpled.

  “Hope I didn’t interrupt something important.”

  His jaw sets and irritation flashes over his face. Before he can say anything, Satan clears his throat. Leviathan shuts his mouth and sinks down into one of the office chairs. I don’t hide the smug look on my face.

  “Get on with it,” Satan sneers.

  “There’s nothing to get on with. We haven’t made any progress.”

  While the room falls silent, tension crackles in the air as they stare me down.

  “We have been summoned so you can tell us you are not doing your job?” Satan’s tone is every bit condescending.

  I do my best to bite back the anger rising inside me. “I summoned you because this is a dead end. We can’t get our hands on anything. On top of that, Royce hasn’t made any headway either. The witch keeps evading him.”

  “What all have you learned?” Belial takes a step closer. I am beyond thankful that their astral forms are confined inside the salt and ash barrier.

  “Banshees are harbingers. They warn of an impending death.” I try to remember all the information we’ve come across. “They’re female and let out a scream to signal a death.

  “Within everything we’ve read, there’s nothing that connects Nora to any of this. I discovered her while I was out collecting a soul. I can’t take her out and tell her to sniff out someone that’s dying. That’ll cause too much attention.”

  Belial’s face remains transfixed. “What else?”

  “They scream.” Good job, I scold myself, you already said that. “But Nora wasn’t yelling when I found her; she was singing. Maybe you mixed up harbingers. Maybe she’s a siren?”

  “Sirens and Banshees are one in the same.”

  “But-“

  Belial holds up his hand, but Satan cuts in. “Humans created the myth of sirens. There was a time when the Banshee bloodline was alive and well. Several roamed the earth at once. Some were obedient, while others rose up in anarchy. They were too powerful for demons or Reapers to kill. So they were banished to remote islands.

  “The power of a Banshee can range. Their voice can be used as a weapon or as a temptation. Believing they outsmarted the works of Hell, they began luring sailors closer to them. But instead of commandeering ships, the sailors fell to their deaths and the ships were destroyed.” A smirk plays on Leviathan’s mouth.

  “How is it you know all of that, but know nothing when it comes to Nora?”

  A look is shared between them and an eerie silence settles. “We did not have a personal hand in creating the Banshees. They were an experiment of Lucifer’s. He knew the ins and outs of these creatures. We were left to deal with the aftermath.”

  “I take it most of this happened after he was entombed?”

  I stand under the scrutiny of his stone gaze. “Precisely.”

  Before I started my reaping sentence, the world’s balance had suffered a major disruption. The good people, as Nora refers to them, felt that Hell was gaining too much power. That scared them. The Accursed are meant to stand on neutral ground, but they have a few dirty cops in their midst. With the help of witches, Changelings and the Accursed were able to lure out Lucifer and his bride. They’ve been entombed ever since.

  “That’s why the safety of the Banshee is imperative.”

  I clear my throat. “This whole waiting around thing is getting us nowhere.”

  “Stop acting like such a shiny bitch,” Leviathan snips. “If you don’t know what to do with the girl – I’ll give you a few tips. You can give her another reason to scream.”

  “Brother!” Belial bellows.

  Holding his hands up, he volleys, “He’s bloody miserable. It’d do him some good.”

  My own hands ball along my sides. There’s no justifiable reason for me to feel protective over her. And yet, I’m tempted to grab the prince by his bearded face and introduce it to the edge of the conference table.

  Fuck! What has gotten into me?

  “I can guarantee you that there’s nothing to find locked away.” I set aside my emotions, and try to think clearly. “There has to be something we’re missing. It might have to do with her singing.”

  “Do what you must,” Satan’s speaks. “Have her partake in a bellowing contest for all we care. Just get it done.”

  With a gust of smoke, the three of them disappear from the pentagram’s core.

  I make quick work of cleaning the bloodied dagger and returning it to the center of the table. What a waste of my fucking time. Even before I make it out of the turnstile lobby door, I have a lit cigarette in my hand. My body’s need for nicotine is overwhelming.

  Between being in the room when someone has died and caring for the bodies of the deceased, death is second nature to Nora. It comes with the profession. And yet, she can’t recall anything odd occurring during those times. With the lack of information in books and on the internet, the only other route I can think of is with her singing – her voice. Hers is one of the most captivating sounds I’ve ever heard. While reading or washing dishes, she has a tendency to drift off in her own world. Her singing is remarkable. I can’t complain, especially when she shakes her ass. Unlike the night at Gunthrie’s though, I haven’t had that electric sensation happen again.

  “Smoking’s bad for you.” Willow walks down the sidewalk, her hands tucked in the pockets of the leather jacket she wears.

  While the majority of the souls end up in Heaven or Hell, some don’t. The Accursed are equal part good and bad – sinner and saint. They are meant to keep the world in balance.

  “Hello, Willow,” I say, blowing a puff of smoke in her direction.

  Willow died from a drunken car accident. She was at fault, but being a preacher’s granddaughter had some pull in saving her soul. She remains in her early-twenties body; the Accursed are cemented in the same age, similar to Reapers.

  She fans the smoke away with her hand. “It’s an odd time of night for you to be out.”

  “Didn’t realize I had a curfew.”

  “Cut the bullshit, Kane.” Willow snatches the cigarette from my hand, tossing it to the ground. “What’s going on?”

  I raise my brow. “You ruining my nicotine habit. That’s what’s going on.”

  “Briggs saw you leaving with a mortal not too long ago. Royce has been out of town for a long time. You’re meeting with your princes pretty late at night.” Willow cocks her hip. The heels of her boots make it easier for her to look me in the eye. “This isn’t like you. Care to tell me what you’re up to?”

  “How’d you know Royce hasn’t been around?” A shade of red tinges her cheeks, but she stands her grounds. Her arms cross over her chest as she scowls at me. “Don’t worry about it, Will. There’s nothing to stress about.”

  “Then why’d Briggs see you with that girl? He’s suspicious.”

  “Fucking Briggs,” I mutter. A man of justice through and through. “It’s nothing. I got bored. Figured I’d stick my toes in some mortal fun.”

  I know she doesn’t believe my lie. Her jaw ticks like a bomb nearing detonation. “You realize if he decides to look into it, I can’t help you – not if I don’t know what I’m walking into.”

  “It’s nothing, Willow,” I say, offering her a slight smile. “Do I ever cause any problems?”

  She knows I don’t. But she still holds my gaze for a moment longer before letting out an exasperated sigh. “If there’s an issue, you better contact me. Once Briggs gets his mind set on something, nothing will change it. I don’t know why he was such a vendetta against you and your lot, but you need to be careful.”

  “Is it against us,” I muse, “or just Royce? Guilty by association.”

  Willow narrows her eyes. “Whatever’s going through that head of yours, you better
snip it in the ass. Same with whatever bullshit you’re meddling in.”

  With that, she turns and walks away.

  “I’ll be sure to let Royce know you were asking about him,” I holler after her. She holds up a middle finger as she walks down the sidewalk. I let out a chuckle, watching her round the corner.

  While she might be pacified, I know Briggs’ curiosity isn’t. He could cause a lot of issues, but that’s something I’m going to have to risk. I need Nora to find her inner harbinger. As much as I wanted to limit the amount of people who have a hand in this mess, I can’t do this on my own.

  12

  Kane

  If any new attempts are to be made in freeing Nora’s inner Banshee, I‘m going to need help. I contacted Xi in hopes he would be willing at lend a hand in my little experiment. To my relief, he was thrilled by the idea.

  “Give me a few days,” he told me. I had been smoking out on the balcony with my phone pressed to my ear. “I’ll let you know when the Playground’s ready.”

  Part of me is nervous by his excitement. But after seeing firsthand how he’s able to transform the bar over and over again, he’s the only person I’d trust with this. I didn’t give him much information. All he knows is that there’s a girl Death is curious about, and I need a place for her to sing.

  Despite being pulled away from her job and family, Nora has calmed down. After a week or two, she didn’t seem as stress. Even the shadows under eyes faded away. Nora’s attractive. She has clear porcelain skin and her eyes have a way of shining when she talks. I keep finding myself distracted and enamored by her. But as fond as I’ve become of her, she will need more than that. Xi isn’t the only one I had to enlist. Luna, a lust fueled sister of Vivian’s, is a queen of high fashion. Nora’s looks need to be heightened for this project to work. That’s why we’re standing in the middle of a showroom.

  “What are we doing here?” Nora asks. She’s been mildly impatient since we left the comfort of the apartment. I don’t exactly blame her. We don’t venture out.

  Clearing my throat, I glance around. “Per Death’s request, we need to move on from researching and focus on something else, particularly your voice.”

  “You’ve told me that,” she huffs. “I’m talking about why we’re here.”

  She gestures to all the racks of clothes surrounding us. Under Luna’s reputation, she managed to block out a period of the showroom just for us. Two employees stand behind the checkout counter, waiting on Luna as well. Their periodic glances do nothing to ease Nora’s discomfort.

  “I’m going to introduce you to someone.” I pull my phone out of my pocket, checking the time. “Remember when I told you about all the little devils in the world?” Nora nods. “Luna is well-known. She’s a bit eccentric, but she’s mastered the art of her sin. Have you ever heard of a demon that deals in lust?”

  “No.” Nora’s voice is soft, barely reaching a whisper.

  “They are in the trade of sex. They lure men, and even women, into their beds and seduce them with all sorts of perversions.”

  “You’re introducing me to a slut?”

  The laugh I let out sets off a pleasant reaction in her; cheeks and the tips of her ears turn pink. She then bites at her bottom lip. “I’d do my best not to let Luna hear you call her that?”

  It’s in that moment that Luna strolls into the boutique. She’s half an hour late for our appointment, and yet, she doesn’t seem phased by it.

  “Kane! How are you, darling?” Her smile beams as she leans in to air kiss my cheek.

  “Luna.” I offer her a minute smirk. “Let me introduce you to Nora.”

  Peeling the sunglasses from her face, she takes in the Banshee. The way the blood drains from Nora’s face makes me wonder what must be going through her head. I wouldn’t doubt if my death is being tossed around in there. The two of them are a complete contradiction of one another. Luna’s bleached hair stands out against her caramel skin. Her black lipstick matches the long jumpsuit and boots she wears. Nora’s tied up hair gives full access to her natural face. Her plain t-shirt and jeans rival Luna’s sense of fashion.

  “Kane,” the demon’s voice is soft, almost wounded, “this is going to take me while.”

  “Excuse me?” Nora’s inner fire starts smoking.

  I reach out, circling her wrist in my hand. “Take all the time you need.” Nora’s emerald eyes glare at me, but I can feel the way she relaxed under my touch. Lowering my voice, I assure her, “I wouldn’t put you in her care if I didn’t trust her.”

  Before any words can slip out of her opening mouth, Luna beckons her to follow. Nora’s mouth clamps shut. As she walks toward the back of the shop, she casts me a murderous look over her shoulder.

  ...

  Each time Nora steps out in a different outfit, the meaner her face gets. Luna has her trapeze around in several kinds of clothes. I lost track of how many flared pants, off the shoulder tops, and knee high boots I’ve seen. All the colors and patterns have melded together. Things that would look stunning on the demon look as if they’re being pinned on Nora with needles.

  When she comes out of the dressing room in a one-piece get up with shoulder pads, I finally pull Luna aside. There must be some behind the scene drama going on because attitude radiates off the both of them.

  “This isn’t working,” I say.

  “No shit,” Luna snaps. Her painted lips pull back in a slight sneer. “She’s tried on everything and you keep saying no. And she’s not helping matter.”

  “I can hear you!” Nora hollers. She spins around in the cove of mirrors, pulling at the fabric as it rides up.

  Lowering my voice, I put an arm around Luna. “Simple. Think of a classy type of simple. Beautiful, but not over the top.”

  I show her the pictures Xi had sent me of the Playground’s transformation. He’s doing the bar up as a sophisticated lounge. Booths and tables upholstered in leather with strategically placed lighting. It gives off the feel of a high end speakeasy.

  “Simple.”

  A sigh slips through her lips. “Let me see what I can do.”

  Royce’s name flashes across the screen. I gesture to the door as I bring it up to my ear. Luna pulls Nora back in the dressing room as I step out onto the sidewalk.

  “Any news?”

  “Maybe,” his voice echoes through the phone. I can hear cars passing by on his side of the world. Voices mix into white noise. “One of the other witches stopped me last night. She asked why I’ve been so persistent.”

  Anxiety pulls at my chest. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

  “I just told her I needed help.” I pull a cigarette out of the pack stashed away in my pocket. A woman walking by gives me a judgmental look as I flick open my lighter.

  “She’s supposed to get ahold of me with a time and place.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  Royce mutters an apology on his end. “No. She said soon.”

  Soon? He’s been on this hags trail for weeks and all he can get is soon? It’s bullshit. But then again, I can’t be too pissed. It’s something. He could still be stumbling around blindly, grasping at fog.

  “Keep me updated.”

  “Of course,” he says. “How are things on the home front?”

  The smoke from the cigarette turns bitter in my lungs. “About as good as things are for you. I have some demons helping out with a project.”

  “I take it the little Banshee’s cooperating?”

  “Surprisingly,” I mutter. Royce laughs. “I ran into Willow the other night.” He cuts off, filling the line with silence. “Briggs has it up his ass that something’s going on.”

  Royce doesn’t answer. It takes a moment or two before his voice crackles through. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine.”

  I survey those around me. Not going out during the day for quite some time has made familiar things seem foreign. From the runners wearing skin tight clothes and earbuds, all the way down to the suited
businessmen and daycare toddlers.

  Hardening my voice, I question, “I thought you two put an end to things.”

  “This has nothing to do with us.” He realizes his slip. “Willow hasn’t had a hand in any of this. Briggs needs to mind his own damn business.”

  “Calm yourself. As far as I know he hasn’t made any connections.”

  Chimes echo, signaling the shop door opening. I hold up a finger, letting the worker know I’d be another minute. Taking a final drag of my cigarette, I stub it out on the heel of my shoe. “Keep me updated,” I tell him again before ending the call and going back inside.

  Nora stands in the center of the wall of mirrors. Red fabric flows down her body like silk; snugging tightly, accentuating her curves. As she turns around, air catches in my lungs. The front of the dress has a deep plunge. Despite her ruby hair, the dress is perfect. She takes a step forward, revealing a slit that travels all the way up her thigh. Luna has out done herself. The sight of her this way makes my pants seem to fit a bit tighter.

  “What do you think?” Nora’s voice is airy. She stares at me, lips slightly parted.

  “I think that’s the one.”

  ...

  Something smells good. I sling the towel around my neck and follow the aroma.

  After Luna pulled together a working wardrobe, Nora and I stopped at a corner store. She asked if she could make something for dinner. I didn’t take offense to it. A person can only handle so much take out. I let her have her reign over the groceries.

  Nora stands over the stove. Her hair’s knotted on the top of her head and she changed into cotton shorts.

  “When the stars make you drool just like a pizza fazool.”

  I lean against the wall and watch her. As she pulls a pan out of the oven, she shakes her hips. Her tone legs dance around while she stirs a pot on the stove, her hands still covered with the oven mitts.