by D.L. Cox
Lamont stopped pacing and eyed Saleena. “You’re a reaper too?”
Saleena shook her head. “No. I’m the devil’s daughter.”
Before Lamont could respond, Izzy said, “We met twelve years ago while I was dropping a soul off in hell.”
Saleena blushed. “We fell in love, but his brother reapers and my father didn’t approve. My father called it absurd. Apparently it’s not technically forbidden for a reaper and a demon to be together, but that’s only because no one ever thought it necessary to forbid it because no one ever considered the possibility of a reaper actually falling for a demon. Either way the forces that be determined that Izzy and I should not be together.”
Izzy cut back in, “So we pretended to stop seeing each other and spent the last eleven years making arrangements to cross over.”
“It was the only way we could be together,” Saleena whispered. “Izzy is the only one for me, and I refuse to spend an eternity in hell withering away in loneliness like some tormented damned human soul.”
Lamont took a deep breath and exhaled. “That’s why you kept me alive. To help you cross over,” he paused. “But you had me collect enough weapons to wage a small war.”
Izzy stood. “I hope so, because there’s a mob of demons operating here that aren’t going to like our presence, and we intend to send all of them back where they came from before they can send us back.”
Lamont studied Izzy and said, “What do you need me to do?”
Izzy said, “For now, just give me what you have for me, and I’ll contact you when I need you”
Lamont ran into his bedroom and came back lugging the two duffle bags and a backpack and dropped them at Izzy’s feet. “There’s a brand new Cadillac Escalade parked in the garage with a duffle bag of guns and combat gear in the back,” he said and tossed Izzy a set of car keys. “I set you up in a nice spot in Connecticut like you requested. You’ll find the keys and directions in the backpack along with contact information for someone who will set you up with proper ID.”
“What about the layout to the warehouse?” Izzy asked.
“In the backpack,” Lamont assured.
“Thanks,” Izzy said, shaking Lamont’s hand.
Lamont waved off Izzy’s gratitude. “I should be thanking you. You gave me another shot at life.”
Saleena told Lamont, “Word of advice, avoid life-ending situations and keep a gun on you in case you run into one of those highjacked bodies. If you do, pierce the brain and he’ll go straight back to hell. A bullet will certainly do the trick.”
Lamont shrugged. “How will I know if I run into one?”
Saleena looked directly into Lamont’s eyes. “You’ll know.”
Chapter Three
Eshu tightly gripped the steering wheel as he maneuvered the Maybach through the fruit- named streets of Buffalo, New York. It was a little after midnight and Eshu’s facial expression said he was about to do something he’d rather not do. His dark-blue suit and designer shoes made him look like he was headed to a red-carpet event, but the scowl on his face announced that there was something much more sinister on the agenda. On the front passenger seat sat a small wooden box like the one Saleena pulled from Bob’s safe. Eshu eyed the box as he pulled up in front of a nondescript two-story building that was wedged between two dilapidated warehouses. He parked, grabbed the box, got out the car, and adjusted his tie before gingerly approaching the building’s front entrance.
Eshu knocked on the door, and a tall, muscular guy, also dressed in a suit, opened the door and frowned at the sight of him. Music blared from inside. Before the guy could say a word, Eshu shifted the box from his right hand to his left hand and quickly drew a semi-automatic handgun from one of two holsters hidden under his blazer and placed the barrel against the guy’s forehead.
“I have a message for Simon,” Eshu said calmly.
“Easy. He’s inside,” the guy muttered nervously.
“Inside then, easy,” Eshu ordered.
The guy slowly backed into the building and Eshu stepped forward with the gun glued to his forehead. Eshu’s eyes narrowed as he kicked the door closed behind him and scanned the place. It was a smoke-filled night club. There was a small dance floor in the center of the room surrounded by almost two dozen tables. A bar ran the length of the right wall and several private booths ran the length of the wall to the left. The place was packed with well dressed women and men. Eshu’s attention was drawn to six men standing guard in front of one of the private booths. He swiftly pointed his gun in the air and squeezed off three shots before placing the gun back on the guy’s forehead.
The music stopped abruptly as the six men guarding the booth drew guns along with half the men and women in the club. All eyes snapped towards Eshu, and there was a collective gasp as the club patrons recognized him.
“Simon,” Eshu called out.
Two tall, leggy, beautiful women stepped out from the booth behind the six guards and strutted over to Eshu like they were working a runway—their long, thick, curly hair bounced around their slender faces. They shared the same full lips, crystal-blue eyes, and high cheek bones. Only those who knew them well could tell them apart. Not only were they identical twins, but they always wore the same outfits. Tonight it was a form-fitting black dress with six-inch heels.
Eshu watched as the six men in front of the booth quickly retook their posts, obscuring the view of the booth’s remaining occupant. He chuckled and turned his attention to the twins. “Stacy,” he nodded to the one on the left. “Tracy,” he nodded to the one on the right.
Tracy asked, “What are you doing here?”
Before Eshu could respond, Stacy said, “You’re out of place.”
Eshu gripped the gun’s handle and pressed the barrel deeper into the doorman’s forehead. “Remember who you’re talking to.”
Tracy giggled “You’re nothing here .We’re not afraid of you.”
Stacy added, “You’re nothing but a messenger.”
Eshu exhaled. “Stupid little minions. If I’m here then something must have changed.”
Eshu squeezed the trigger and sent a bullet into the doorman’s head. Time appeared to stand still as a thick black smoke oozed from the doorman’s mouth and evaporated while his body fell lifelessly to the floor. Stacy and Tracy couldn’t believe it. They attempted to rush at Eshu, but he quickly dropped the box, pulled another gun from under his blazer, and had a barrel pressed against each their foreheads before the box could even hit the floor.
“Wait,” the twins pled in unison.
Eshu looked around and noticed the men and women in the club had turned their guns on each other. He smirked. “I guess you’re not one big happy family after all. Like you said, I’m nothing here, but I’m sure you don’t want to see me where you’ll go if I send a bullet into your brains.”
“But how?” Stacy stammered.
“I told you, things have changed,” Eshu said flatly.
A handsome guy in an expensive suit emerged from the booth behind the six guards. “Everybody put your weapons away, now!” he said in a commanding tone. Everyone did as he said, and he strolled over to Eshu with the stride of an arrogant self-made billionaire.
Eshu lowered his guns and said, “It’s been a long time, Simon.”
Simon eyed the doorman’s body. “What the hell is going on?”
Eshu holstered his guns and picked up the box. “You’re sister’s here.”
Simon shrugged. “And? I was informed she would be visiting for a few weeks.”
Eshu shook his head. “No. I mean she stole one of your father’s summoning blades, used it to summon Izzy, made him use it, and then released your father’s breath.”
Simon mumbled, “The summoning blade and the devil’s breath?”
Eshu nodded. “She’s here to stay.”
Stacy frowned. “But that’s impossible.”
Tracy added, “Two of the devil’s children can’t fully exist in this world at the same time.”
Simon scratched his chin. “Not without knocking the gates between our worlds wide open.”
“Exactly,” Eshu concluded before telling Simon. “You no longer control the gate. A bullet to the head will send any of your little flock back to where they came.”
Simon turned to Stacy and Tracy and told them, “Send everyone home.” He then turned to Eshu. “We can talk in my office.”
Simon led Eshu to a door behind the bar. The office looked like it belonged to a Wall Street executive. There was a huge oak desk with a computer and a phone on top of it. A leather sofa sat on the wall to the left of the desk and a huge safe sat on the wall to the right. Simon motioned Eshu to take a seat in front of the desk as he walked around it and sat in his high-back leather chair.
“We have to find her,” Simon said, running his fingers over his head.
Eshu sat the box on the desk. “That’s going to be complicated.”
“She doesn’t know this world. It should be easy,” Simon reasoned.
Eshu shook his head. “Not exactly.”
“Izzy?” Simon muttered knowingly.
“It appears they’ve been planning this thing for over ten years,” Eshu revealed.
“I don’t believe this,” Simon said through clenched teeth. “You have to find her and take her back.”
“Your father has decided to let you and your sister play out your little sibling rivalry,” Eshu explained.
“What?” Simon stood.
Eshu pointed at the box. “I was sent to drop off this gift.”
Simon snatched the box and opened it. His eyes lit up at the sight of a summoning blade. “What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked.
Eshu replied, “It will summon a reaper who has some very important information for you.”
Simon fingered the knife’s blade. “A gift, huh?”
“It’s time for me to go home. I hate it here,” Eshu muttered and headed for the door.
Stacy and Tracy walked in as Eshu walked out. They stopped in their tracks when they saw the knife in Simon’s hand.
Stacy asked, “What’s going on?”
Simon eyed the knife. “We’re going to find out. Send that bartender in here.”
Stacy left the room and returned a moment later with a short pretty woman with a voluptuous body.
“What’s up boss?” the bubbly bartender asked.
Simon smoothly walked over to her with the knife in his hand. “I need you to do me a favor,” he said.
The bartender smiled. “What’s that?”
“Die,” Simon said, thrusting the knife into her chest.
The bartender’s eyes grew wide with pain as she fell to her knees with the knife stuck in her chest. Stacy and Tracy smirked as they watched the bartender take her last breath.
Simon looked around the office and said, “Show yourself.”
Thick black smoke filled the room. Simon calmly stood his ground while Stacy and Tracy frantically covered their mouth and nose and fanned the smoke away from them. The smoke whirled into a small tornado in the center of the room and then evaporated, revealing a tall, rock-star looking dude with blue eyes and blonde hair.
Simon eyed the man and laughed. “Asraf”
Asraf took a deep breath and nodded. “Simon my friend, how have you been?”
“I’m surviving. I can’t complain,” Simon replied. “Now what is your brother Izzy and my devil of a sister up to?”
Asraf shook his head and eyed Stacy and Tracy. “Simon, my boy. Pleasure before business.” Asraf approached the twins, took them each by a hand, and gently kissed the back of their hands. “It is a great honor to meet you two lovely creatures,” he said, cutting his eyes from one twin to the other.
Stacy and Tracy’s eyes literally jumped with flames as they blushed.
Simon pulled the knife from the bartender’s chest. “Tell me what you have to tell me,” he demanded.
Asraf sighed and turned to Simon. “Such a party-pooper.” He walked around Simon’s desk, sat in his chair, and kicked his feet up. “Did you know that nine out of ten souls on Izzy’s list belong to people who sold their souls to your father?”
“And?” Simon asked impatiently.
Asraf smiled. “And Izzy spent most of his time watching those people, studying them, and unfortunately for you, studying them to the point of admiration. He envies them. Their selfishness, their arrogance, their violent ways, their greedy nature, their competitive spirit, their life-style. That’s why he’s here.”
Simon frowned. “What does this have to do with me?”
Asraf explained, “He wants to be a boss, a don, a kingpin, a godfather, and he’s wooed your sister with fantasies about how grand life on earth can be. Not only does she believe him, but she has encouraged him to aim for the top.”
Stacy said, “You don’t mean—”
Asraf nodded at Simon. “They’re coming for you.”
Simon and the twins looked at each other and laughed. “Well,” Simon said. “The sooner they get here, the sooner I’ll send them back to hell.”
“You don’t understand,” Asraf said and stood. “Let me spell it out for you. Your sister, the temptress, has joined forces with a reaper who specializes in collecting the souls of the dammed. They want this great life you got going here on earth, and they plan on dismantling your organization from the ground up. They intend to launch their plan by enlisting the assistance of the lost soul.”
Concern covered Simon’s face. “They’ll never find her.”
“You sure about that?” Asraf asked with a smirk.
“She’s buried away real good,” Stacy said.
Asraf chuckled. “They’ve already located her, and they should be trying to get to her as we speak.”
Tracy said, “We need to warn—”
“No,” Simon said flatly. “If they know the location it’s already too late. I guess we’ll see what we’re up against.”
Stacy replied, “But it’s only—”
Asraf cut in, “The devil’s daughter and a reaper, and they’re on a mission.”
“He’s right,” Simon admitted. “But the million dollar question is why is he telling us all of this?
“I’m a pragmatist,” Asraf replied. “Izzy expects me and my brothers to come after him, and technically we’re supposed to. But that would be a waste of time as long as your sister has a summoning blade. Not to mention your father requested that we not intervene in this little family feud you and your sister got brewing. So we figured the balance is already broken, we’ll wait until you knock your sister off and then take care of Izzy.”
Simon shrugged. “And what if she knocks me off?”
Asraf smiled. “Your father will personally hand Izzy over to us.”
“In exchange for your not intervening,” Simon reasoned.
“Exactly,” Asraf nodded. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I have souls to collect.” Simon said, “I know how to find you if I need you.”
Asraf bowed to Stacy and Tracy. “Ladies, I hope we meet again,” he said and then morphed into a cloud of black smoke that vanished into thin air.
Stacy looked at Simon with concern in her eyes. “What are we going to do?”
Simon replied, “We handle it like any other turf war. We’ve been here before. That’s how the lost soul became the lost soul, remember?”
Tracy sighed, “Yeah but now the gates are open, losing means being sent back to hell. That changes every—”
Simon grabbed Tracy by the neck and lifted her off her feet. “You doubt that I can make it hell on earth for you if I choose to?”
“No,” Tracy grunted, struggling to breathe.
Simon whispered, “Display weakness again and there will be two lost souls instead of one.”
Simon released Tracy and she bent over gasping for air. “I’m sorry,” she panted.
Simon barked, “My sister has issued a challenge. Get the word out.”
Tracy and Stacy nodded and scrambled out the office.
Simon sat behind his desk and fingered the summoning blade. He knew his sister well enough to know that Asraf’s narration of events was a little off. Saleena didn’t need anyone to convince her to come after him. She genuinely resented him to the point of hatred, and he knew it. But that hadn’t always been the case. For over six centuries the brother and sister had been inseparable in hell, and then Simon ran off to earth to fulfill his destiny. He had kept in touch at first, but it had been over sixty years since he last visited her. He had gotten so focused on his task on earth that he totally neglected his baby sister. His brotherly nature understood that it was probably his absence that paved the way for her relationship with Izzy. He imagined she stumbled into Izzy’s arms in an attempt to fill the void created by the overwhelming sense of estrangement their separation had ignited in her being. Had he been around more, she would have never fallen into an alliance with a reaper. He had literally pushed her into Izzy’s arms and cultivated her contempt for him. If only he had made an effort to stay in touch with her. Oh well, he thought, now she was a demon scorned. She and Izzy had joined forces against him, and he would make them regret it. She was no longer the little sister he had trained to punish and torment in hell. She was now his enemy, and he would treat her like he treated all of his enemies—with a stealthy violence.
He remembered how stubborn and haughty Saleena could be when she had her mind set on something. “Finally, a war worth fighting,” he muttered. And it was a war he was confident he couldn’t lose. He was the devil’s chosen seed on earth. His was a great and lofty destiny—and it didn’t include falling at the hands of his baby sister or her so-called boyfriend.
***
Izzy and Saleena checked into a cheap motel in Rochester, New York. They sat on the edge of the bed loading a dozen magazines for automatic and semi-automatic weapons. On the bed behind them lay two AR-15 assault rifles, four Glock .9mm handguns, two .44 caliber Desert Eagle handguns, two Kevlar vests, eight flash grenades, and two all black mercenary style outfits. The clock on the night stand read 1:00am. They periodically got lost in each other’s eyes for moments at a time, beheld each other’s faces, and shared brief passionate kisses here and there, but didn’t say a word until they finished loading the last bullets.
