“You knew about that?”
“I suspected. I mean, if you’d known about the patrols and that your reapers relied on you, would you have backed down so easily when Az said no active duty?”
“No.”
Silence reigned again, and the darkness grew brighter.
“He wouldn’t drop you, though,” Mal said. “Azazel won’t hurt you.”
“I know.” I pressed a hand to my chest and affected a poncy voice. “He is bound to protect me.”
Mal didn’t laugh like I’d expected. He didn’t even crack a smile. “He’s a hard case, but he has a soft side not many people see. I think he actively works to hide it. If you find yourself on the receiving end of it, it’s a wonderful place to be.”
“Like Bea?”
He let out a bark of laughter. “You met little Bea?”
“Yep.”
“Bea adopted Azazel as her son the moment she set eyes on him a year ago. He could have set her straight, but he plays the role. She died alone. Her son was her carer, but he decided to take a weekend getaway and left her to her own devices for three days. She fell down and cracked her head open in the bathroom trying to get to the toilet.”
My heart sank, and then my familiar friend, anger, flickered to life in my chest. “He just left her alone? How could he do that? Why? I mean, why not get someone to come stay with her. He could have hired a nurse.” Poor Bea. That poor woman. Scared, alone, hungry. Bastard. “And she thinks Azazel is her son?”
“Yeah, but I guess in death, she likes to remember him as her perfect boy, and Azazel lets her have that illusion.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of this version of Azazel. It didn’t fit my experience of him. The minimal conversation, the glares, and the orders, that was the Azazel I knew.
I had to hold on to that vision. “I’m just a chore to him. A thing he has to keep alive.”
“No,” Mal said. “You’re more than that now. You’re one of the team, and I think Azazel is trying to find a way to reconcile that fact with the curse put on him. He’s … He’s not like the rest of us.”
“What do you mean?”
He opened his mouth to speak and then snapped it closed. “You ask way too many questions. You know that?”
“I have a right to know the people I’m teamed up with.”
“And Azazel has a right to tell his own story when he’s ready.” His emerald eyes were hard.
Fine, point conceded. “In that case, I’ll be waiting forever. He doesn’t like me. People don’t confide in people they don’t like.”
Which made the mark on my chest even more of a burden. Neither of us needed to be saddled with that kind of commitment.
Shit, when had it gotten this bright.
The portal stared at us in all its white, swirling glory.
“Welcome to the Beyond,” Mal said. He swept an arm toward it. “After you.”
This was the doorway to the Beyond, to heaven, and it was time to step through.
Oh, boy.
Chapter Eleven
Light melted over me in a hug that pricked the back of my eyes. For a moment, my breath was trapped in my lungs, and then a strange pull and push sensation gripped my body as if two opposing forces were fighting over me—one to pull me back into darkness, the other to embrace me in the light.
A gasp finally erupted from my lips. My eyes snapped open, and it was like being blind in reverse. There was nothing but white.
“Give it a moment,” Mal said from beside me. At least he sounded like he was beside me because there was no way to visually confirm. “It takes a moment for the eyes to adjust to the spectrum of color on this plane. Your body has the capacity to do so, it just needs a few seconds to make the switch.”
I blinked, and the world slowly bloomed to life before me like the image on a polaroid photograph. We were at the edge of a forest, boots planted firmly on grass. Trees, grass, sky, clouds, these were words that came to mind to describe the landscape, but that’s where my brain stumbled. Because the word forest seemed too small. The word grass seemed insignificant to describe the scene.
Hues and colors I had no name for assaulted my eyes. I’d always thought heaven, or the Beyond as the demons called it, was a place of light. White, pure light, but this place … Oh, God. If this was where the celestials lived, our world must seem so dull to them.
It was as if every color had been taken from this palette and muted before painting the human world. There were blues that were green and yellow mixed together with a sheen that was golden. There were deep ochre colors with a silver sheen. My vocabulary wasn’t equipped to describe what I was seeing, and my mind was too small to comprehend the spectrum of hues that existed here.
“It’s a little over the top, isn’t it?” Mal said. “It’s just greedy if you ask me.”
I closed my eyes for a moment of relief from the sensory overload, and the rush of a river filled my head. The chitter-chatter of life followed shortly on its heels. I opened my eyes, and the sounds faded. It was as if my brain couldn’t process everything at the same time.
“You’ll get used to it,” Mal promised.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you,” a voice said from my right.
A white counter had appeared on the grass, and an androgynous figure stood behind it. Where the heck had that come from?
“Welcome, Seraphina Dawn, blood of Eve,” the celestial said. Her eyes were pure silver with no distinct iris or pupil, so I wasn’t sure she was actually looking at me. “Welcome, Malachi, blood of Lilith.”
I stared at the figure for a long beat. She continued to stare straight ahead. “You know who I am? You know my bloodline?”
“I am Celestia. I know those who enter.”
I looked at Mal. “Wait … all this time, all you had to do was ask Celestia what my bloodline was?”
“It doesn’t work that way,” Mal said. “You have to come here for Celestia to identify you.”
“So why didn’t Conah just bring me?”
Mal shrugged. “Your demonic bloodline wasn’t important.”
There was something off about the way he said it … as if my demonic bloodline wasn’t important, but something else was?
Broken.
They’d called me broken.
There was still stuff they weren’t telling me. Yeah, we’d be having a little Dominus meeting about that soon enough. Once my stint at Deadside was done for the week and before my first patrol. It would be cards on the table, no more secrets, guys. I was done with that shit.
But first. I flicked my wrist, and my scythe appeared. “I have a delivery.”
A pillar slid up out of the ground, white and cylindrical, and rose up to about six feet in height then stopped. The surface was white and opaque, like the counter that Celestia was standing behind.
“Please, make your deposit,” Celestia said.
She sounded like a machine. She didn’t move, didn’t look at either of us, and her voice was neither male nor female.
“Um, Mal … Can she see us?”
Mal walked over to Celestia and waved his hand in front of her face. She didn’t flinch but annoyance bit at the inside of my throat.
“Don’t do that. It’s fucking rude.”
He arched a brow. “She’s not alive, Fee. Not in an organic way anyway. Celestia is …” He frowned. “Let me see … How to explain …” His brows shot up. “Ah, right. Celestia is kind of like the uber-powerful version of Siri or Alexa. She’s the receptionist, the gatekeeper. And this …” He indicated the forest. “Is our waiting room. A beautiful simulation that doesn’t go anywhere. Trust me, I’ve tried. You walk in any direction, and you end up right back here.”
“Please make your deposit, Seraphina Dawn,” Celestia said. “And thank you for clarifying my existence, Malachi, although it is lacking.”
Was that humor in her tone? “How does this place work?”
Celestia was silent.
“S
he won’t answer you,” Mal said. “There are certain questions she doesn’t respond to.”
Hmmm. “What powers the Underealm?”
“The Underealm is powered by choal, an incredibly powerful fossil fuel found only in the Underealm.”
“But what powers the Beyond?” Mal asked.
Silence.
My scalp prickled as an idea formed in my mind. “Am I broken?”
“Fee, what the fuck?” Mal intervened.
But I forged on, heart pounding, because maybe I could get my answers now. Right this minute. “Celestia, is there something wrong with me I don’t know about?”
There was a long beat of silence, and then heat rushed from the top of my head right down to my toes then back again. Celestia’s silver eyes flashed several times.
“Psychic scan commencing.”
“Stop,” Mal snapped.
The heat climbing up my body rushed back down and was gone.
Mal looked pissed off. “We didn’t come here to play with Celestia, we came to make a deposit.” He indicated the pillar. “Do it, and let’s go. I have other shit to be getting on with. I have guests this evening.”
More women, no doubt, and why the fuck did that make me ragey? “Why’d you stop her?” I narrowed my eyes. “What the heck aren’t you telling me?”
Movement at the periphery of my vision demanded my attention. I tore my gaze from Mal’s guilty face. A door had opened in the forest scene, and a tall, broad-shouldered figure stepped through. I recognized that buzz cut and the harshly chiseled features. Straight dark brows flicked up slightly at the sight of us, and his amber gaze swept over us. Mine dropped to the thick leather-bound book he was clutching in his left hand. Could that be what I thought it was …
“Uriel. Grigori. Lower-circle celestial.” Celestia announced his presence.
The corners of Uriel’s mouth dimpled as if he was holding back a curse. But celestials didn’t curse … did they?
“Uri,” Mal said.
“Malachi,” Uri replied in an even tone.
“Is that the ledger?” Mal asked.
“It is,” Uri said.
My hunch had been right. This was the ledger, which held the list of items stored in the vault at the Academy. “Are you going there now?”
Uri’s impassive gaze flicked to me. “Yes.”
“I want to come with you and help.”
I sensed Malachi relax beside me. He probably thought he was off the hook about the secrets. Like fuck. I’d get him later. Right now, I wanted to help identify our missing item—the thing the Dread had attacked the Academy to steal. I needed to do something useful, dammit, but Uri hadn’t replied to me yet. He was too busy looking at Malachi. Wait, was he waiting for Mal to say it was okay?
He so fucking was.
My temper snapped. “Don’t look at him. I’m asking you a question. Me. Not him. He does not speak for me. Do you understand?”
Heat was rising up my throat and burning the backs of my eyes. I was so sick of this look-over-her-head behavior the Dominus, and now the bloody celestial, were subjecting me to. God, I was mad. Chest-achingly mad, and yes, I wanted to unleash it, just let go and rage.
Bad idea. So bad. Control it, Fee. What the fuck. This was totally over-the-top anger as usual.
“Fuck, Fee, am I going to have to kiss you again?” Mal asked.
My head whipped around, and a feral growl clawed its way up my throat.
Mal’s eyes widened. “Fee …”
Whoa, where had that come from? Last I’d checked my body didn’t make that kind of sound. Breathe, dammit. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. I could do this. I could control myself.
The red haze retreated, and the vise around my chest eased its epic grip. I tucked in my chin, took a breath through my nose, exhaled through my mouth, then raised my head to lock eyes with Uri.
“I want to help.”
The corner of Uri’s mouth lifted slightly. “The rest of the watchers are on duty, so I would appreciate the assistance.”
Mal didn’t protest. Even if he had, I’d have told him where to shove it. But he was probably happy to wash his hands of me for now. Probably thought I’d forget about our little conversation.
“I’ll see you back at quarters,” Mal said, backing away toward the portal entrance. At least that’s where I thought it was because right now everything was forest.
I narrowed my eyes at him, shooting daggers of intent. “Yes, we can finish our chat then.”
I thought he’d argue with me, but he pressed his lips together and nodded. “I think it’s time we did.”
And then he was gone, just winking out of existence.
“Please make your deposit,” Celestia said for the third time.
Shit. “Uri?”
He tucked the huge book under one arm and tapped the pillar. “Just touch it with your scythe.”
I did as he asked. The blade glowed so brightly I had to turn my head away. When I looked back, the blade had dimmed to its usual glow, but the pillar had become almost translucent. White orbs swirled inside, sliding over each other, bumping into one another.
Souls.
These were human souls.
The pillar thickened to an opaque state and then slid back into the forest floor.
I looked up at Uri. “What happens to them now?”
His stormy eyes darkened, and his mouth turned down slightly. “We should go. The sooner we identify the stolen items, the better. Powerful artifacts do not belong in the hands of Dread.”
He held out his free hand. “I’ll have to touch you to take you with me.” He was looking at me earnestly. “Do I have permission?”
Permission-asking. There hadn’t been much of that for a while. “Yes. Yes, you do.” I took his hand and stepped close to him. A strange thrum vibrated between us, but it lasted less than a second.
“I will have to hold you,” he advised.
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” I looked up at his hard, stubbled jaw. “Celestials need to shave, huh?”
He looked down his nose at me. “Grigori do.” He curled his arm around my waist and gently pulled me against his torso. That thrum again. His grip on me flexed. Had he felt it too? “Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“So that your corneas don’t burn.”
“Great reason.” I closed my eyes. “What happens no—”
My insides slammed into my spine, and then blood rushed to my head.
“You can open your eyes now,” Uri said.
I clung to his biceps, knees shivering as I obliged. Amber light, soft, like it was coming from a lamp filled the room—a room made of gray stone, a flagstone floor, and walls lined with deep shelves. Most were empty because the books and artifacts were piled onto a long table in the middle of the room. There was one door, a wooden one that was firmly closed, and no windows. This was the vault. He’d brought us straight here.
The Academy tutors must have picked up all the tossed artifacts after the raid, and everything on the table needed to be cataloged and put away according to the log. The log that Uri was still clutching while I continued to hold on to him.
“Sorry.” I released him and stepped away. “You made my knees weak for a minute.”
He arched a brow.
That hadn’t come out right. “I mean, the trip made my knees weak, not you. You don’t make my knees weak.”
“I don’t?” His tone was polite, inquiring, but was that a hint of amusement in his stormy eyes?
“I mean you’re beautiful in a my-face-may-be-chiseled-from-marble-but-I-will-cut-you way … ”
His mouth twitched.
“And I’m just going to shut up now.” My knees no longer felt like noodles, but my cheeks were on fire. “I’m glad you find my brain scramble entertaining. What the hell was that, by the way? It didn’t feel like teleportation.”
“Ah, yes, Conah travels in a similar way to the Grigori. We simply use a different pathway. Your body will
be more attuned to the demonic plane, which is why the journey affected you as it did.”
He placed the log on an empty spot on the table and flipped it open. “I don’t suppose you read Enochian?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I didn’t know I could speak it until I was speaking it. Wait. Am I speaking it right now?”
His smile was almost indulgent. “You’ve been switching back and forth between English and Enochian for a while now in response to what I speak.”
I adapted without realizing it. “I wish I could hear the difference.”
He tapped the page in front of him. “What does this look like.”
I stared at the lines on the page. “Gibberish.”
“In that case, I will describe the item, and you locate it. It’s a long list; if you need to leave at any point, then please ask. I understand you have duties elsewhere.”
Deadside was waiting to reinforce our connection, and Aunt Lara would be expecting me for a visit, but this was important. This could help us figure out what the Dread were up to and stop them.
“No. I’m good.”
“In that case …” He scanned the page. “A ruby-encrusted goblet with three grooves in the rim.”
I stared at the piles of stuff, rolled up my sleeves, and set to work searching.
* * *
It took two hours to comb through the artifacts list, and now we were on the final page of the log.
I studied the table, which was half empty now. “We only have books left.”
Heavy leather-bound books. Or was it leather? Maybe it was human skin … Yeah, I’d watched way too many horror movies in my time. “So, the missing item has to be a book, right? Books are all we have left in the log.”
“If there is indeed an item missing,” Uri said with a frown. “These items thus far seem innocuous to me. Artifacts from a time past, treasured only for their historical value. Some have monetary value, yes, but I doubt the Dread would have gone to so much trouble just for money.” He frowned at the log. “I wonder why this log was held in the Beyond?”
The answer was obvious to me. “Because there’s something hidden in it.” I pointed at the books. “Something important hidden among the mundane things. I mean, you can’t think the Dread trashed the place for nothing?”
Reaper Uninvited: Deadside Reapers book 2 Page 7
