Persephone (The Lily Harper Series Book 4)

by H. P. Mallory

  “Nice,” I said as I shook my head. “I wish you lots of luck.”

  “Don’t get jealous when I find myself a real honey,” Bill bantered back.

  “I doubt you’ll find any real honeys or Tinderellas out here,” I replied with a shrug. Glancing around myself, I could only detect the faint outlines of long dead trees against the darker pitch of the sky. “More like Tindersteins.”

  “Ha-ha, nips! You’re so damn funny,” Bill grumbled while slapping his thigh in mock hilarity. Jerk. “An’ look at that!” he exclaimed, shaking his head. His eyes danced with glee, and his smile widened. “I’m surrounded by babes!”

  “There’s no way,” I retorted. My mouth dropped open as I tried to comprehend how that could be possible.

  He held his phone up and began swiping right onto the first five profiles that came up, without even bothering to look at the pictures. “Apparently, it is possible to Tinder Bomb the Dark Wood,” he replied with a giggle. “Fuck yeah!”

  I shook my head in blatant denial. There was no way he could convince me that eligible women existed within a ten-mile radius. “It must be pulling that data from somewhere else,” I said. “We must be in a parallel plane, or universe right now, or something like that.”

  “Stop right there,” Bill said as he held up his hand, his palm facing me. “No more o’ this space-time continuum shit.” He began shaking his head. “I can’t deal with any more o’ that dorky crap.” Then he arched a brow at me and seemed irritated. “We’ll be back home soon enough. Then you can go find yer own kind in the Nerdist Colony.”

  I didn’t bother to respond because a text message suddenly popped up on my screen. It was from Alaire and it read:

  Dear Ms. Harper,

  I am pleased that you decided to accept my generosity. (I figured he was referring to the phone, or his gifts from Saxon). I trust you will prefer this phone for your travels to the Underground City; I fear your current, duct-taped atrocity will not survive another journey.

  I shrugged, thinking he probably had a point there.

  Inside the canvas bag, please find a key, a glass vial, a whistle, and a box of chocolates. The key will allow you unencumbered entrance to the gates of the Underground City. I recall that during your last visit, you did not possess one.

  So Alaire remembered that. It was true that I hadn’t had a key, but luckily for me, I hadn’t needed one then. The gates had simply opened automatically. Now, however, looking back on it, I suspected Alaire must have been alerted to my presence and opened the gates before sending a driverless car, which took me directly to him.

  Inside the glass vial is an elixir. It will protect you as you step through the gates; otherwise, as you well know, the toxins of the Underground City will most decidedly kill you. This vial is enchanted, and will therefore refill itself as quickly as you drink it, which is fortunate for you.

  Yeah, right. Fortune had nothing to do with me having to return to the Underground City.

  The whistle is quite important, Alaire continued. It is quite unfortunate, but I have found the need to further defend the Underground City from interlopers. Toward that end, I have begun the exportation of creatures into the Dark Wood, if only to preserve the integrity of my dear city.

  So that purple, “dickless” creature, as Bill so affectionately termed it, was completely Alaire’s doing. Anger started to simmer inside me as I read between the lines. He was breeding creatures and relocating them in the Dark Wood by way of the rivers. That could only make our job, as Soul Retrievers, even more difficult than it already was. Who knew how many unknowing retrievers would now never even make it to the gates of the Underground City?

  Of course, the biggest question still remained: why was Alaire doing this? I didn’t buy his whole “preserving the integrity of his city” bit. Possibly because I wasn’t even sure what that meant. So, not having an immediate answer, I read further.

  If you happen to encounter any of my newest minions, all you need to do is blow the whistle. The beasts are designed to abort any mission once the whistle is sounded.

  Hmm, well, that little tidbit would have been handy about six hours ago …

  As you are, no doubt, well aware, Ms. Harper, your safety is my utmost priority.

  Ahem, right. Of course it is, Alaire.

  That brings me to my final gift: a box of chocolate truffles. These goodies are directly imported from Switzerland and are well-renowned the world over as the finest in chocolate confections. I only ask you to enjoy them. Please feel free to text, message, or phone me at your convenience.

  I remain humbly yours,

  Alaire.

  “Un-fucking-believable,” I grumbled as I shook my head and glanced up at Bill.

  “Wow, nips, you actually said the eff word,” Bill replied with an expression of awe on his face. “Finally startin’ to shed your schoolmarm roots. Pretty soon, ya might turn out to be a normal person like the rest of us. I’m downright proud o’ you.”

  “Alaire is the one to blame for that abomination near the river that tried to kill us,” I announced, my lips tightly pressed as a thought suddenly occurred to me. Glancing down at the phone again, I clicked on the reply button and typed:

  Why are you breeding monsters and sending them to the Dark Wood to kill retrievers?

  “You gotta be shittin’ me,” Bill replied, shaking his head, but giving me his full attention.

  “No, I’m not,” I said. “Alaire claims he needed to employ more defensive measures in the Dark Wood just to keep people out of the Underground City.”

  “That don’t even sound legal,” Bill interjected. “I wonder if Jason Skeletorhorn even knows about it.”

  “Not that it would matter if he doesn’t,” I answered, feeling sick to my stomach. “Alaire has crept so far up Jason’s ass that he can do no wrong anymore.”

  “Wow, nips, listen to you! Talkin’ like a true sailor,” Bill said with another adoring smile. “You’ve come so far!”

  The phone buzzed in my hands so I looked down and saw a new message from Alaire.

  Ms. Harper, so nice to hear from you.

  Cut the crap, Alaire! I typed back. Tell me why you’re sending demons into the Dark Wood. And, btw, one of your “newest employees” nearly killed us.

  Ah, how unfortunate. I daresay, perhaps you should have used the whistle.

  I didn’t know what the whistle was used for at the time! I texted my reply, containing the anger that I felt all the way down to my toes. I only just now turned on this phone.

  Ah, I see, Alaire texted back. After a three-second delay ensued, he continued, I believe Machiavelli observed that “tardiness often robs us opportunity, and the dispatch of our forces.”

  Thanks for that morsel of riveting trivia, I replied sarcastically and decided to include an emoji showing a face with straight lips to convey my utter lack of interest.

  Alaire responded with his own emoji: a widely grinning face. That was followed by: Shall I trust that you are still relegated to the custody of the angel and the bladesmith?

  Not that it’s any of your business, but the answer is yes, I responded. Now answer my question! Why are you breeding awful creatures and sending them into the Dark Wood?

  Very well, Ms. Harper, anything to please you …

  Right.

  In the ever growing need to further defend my city from unwanted and/or unexpected visitors, he began to explain, I have designed a new species of creatures dedicated solely to ensure and sustain the protection and continued defense of my city. How very astute of you to figure out that I was breeding them, by the way.

  Unwanted visitors? I replied instantly. Are you referring to Soul Retrievers?

  They are merely one of many on the list, yes.

  Retrievers are universally recognized and have every right to enter the Underground City, my fingers pounded out across the small keyboard on the phone. We have a job and purpose as decreed by Afterlife Enterprises. You have no right to interfere with
that. Especially by making our job harder! Alaire didn’t reply so I continued firing more angry texts at him. Does Jason know what you’re up to? It all sounds very nefarious to me!

  Of course, he does, Ms. Harper. I am prohibited from making any sort of move without first obtaining upper management’s blessing.

  As if Jason could be considered upper management where you’re concerned! It’s probably more fitting to call you the puppet master!

  While I do appreciate your high esteem, I must point out, for the record, that I did contact Jason, so he is aware of my defense protocols. Furthermore, I also requested that he not bother you with any new missions for at least the next fortnight. I wanted to allow you ample time to rest and recuperate after your near-death experience. I explained the climactic ordeal you recently endured.

  Despite feeling well beyond grateful at learning I wouldn’t have to return to the Underground City for at least the next two weeks, I didn’t thank Alaire. I preferred not to appear indebted to him, or to let him think I owed him anything.

  Please do not forget the favor you owe me, Alaire added, as if he’d just read my mind.

  I haven’t forgotten, I replied with a heavy heart. “Owing” Alaire anything didn’t sit right with me. But he had saved my life, and the only stipulation he demanded was my consent to grant him a favor.

  I shall be in touch with you regarding that favor when the time is right, Alaire continued.

  I can’t wait.

  Very well. I pray for your safe return and pleasant remainder of your journey, Alaire finished. I clicked the power button off after deciding not to respond.

  “Were you just textin’ with Alaire?” Bill asked, reminding me of his presence.

  “Yes,” I said with a sigh. The weight of my obligation to Alaire was hanging heavily on my shoulders.

  “Textin’ wit’ Alaire?” Tallis’s voice boomed from behind me. “Whit are ye talkin’ aboot?”

  I reflexively tried to hide the phone while my heart launched itself into my throat.

  “Ah already saw ye with the phone, Besom,” Tallis grumbled. He walked into my view and eyed me warily. “Nae purpose hidin’ it now.”

  Taking a deep breath, I tried to regulate my heartbeat as I happened to focus on the bloody carcass in Tallis’s hands. Ever the resourceful bladesmith, he’d obviously picked up dinner while on his excursion to “make water.” He threw the dripping carcass at Bill, and we both watched it land in the dirt right in front of him. Bill reeled back as if it were still alive and about to climb up his leg and sit in his lap.

  “Skin the beast,” Tallis commanded in a voice that forbade all arguments. Reaching into his sporran, he soon produced a blade, which he hurled at Bill. The sharp end landed in the dirt barely a foot or less from Bill’s leg. Bill glared at him briefly until Tallis aimed his somewhat murderous gaze back at me.

  “Whatevs,” Bill said as he looked down at the bloodied bundle of flesh. I could hear his stomach growling. He shrugged before shoving his phone back into his pocket. “I got Carpal Tinder Syndrome now anyways.”

  “Why were ye conversin’ with Alaire?” Tallis demanded as he stared me down.

  “Um,” I started with a huge gulp.

  “Let thy words explicit be...”

  - Dante’s Inferno

  SEVEN

  “It was necessary. I had to find out the purpose of everything inside the canvas bag,” I answered dutifully. With my chin held firmly in the air, I reminded myself that Tallis wasn’t the boss of me. Furthermore, as a strong, independent woman (and all that other roaring stuff), how dare he appear angry with me?

  “Then ye turned oan the phone Alaire gave ye?” Tallis demanded from where he hovered above me, looking like he was as tall as a building.

  “Yes,” I replied, thinking better of spelling out the fact that that much was obvious. In order to text Alaire, of course I had to turn on the phone. Duh.

  “Then ye are also aware that Alaire can track oos now?” Tallis continued, crossing his arms over his chest with another stern glare. His cheeks and the tops of his ears took on a rather attractive, rosy hue.

  “He can’t track us because I already turned the phone off again,” I explained. I refused to look him in the eyes since I already felt about three inches tall and rapidly shrinking.

  “Doesnae matter,” Tallis persisted while shaking his head. “’Tis most probably enchanted anyway, so Alaire can track oos whether ’tis oan, or off.”

  “Then, following that logic, he could have begun tracking us from the moment Saxon gave me the canvas bag,” I pointed out.

  Tallis shook his head. “Magic disnae work like that, Besom,” he corrected me. “It moost be enabled first. By turnin’ oan the phone, ye enabled it.”

  “We don’t know that for sure,” I tried to argue, but Tallis’s expression stopped me dead in my tracks.

  “Can you two keep it down over there?” Bill piped up, glaring at us from one sleepy eye. The other one remained shut. His hands were neatly clasped together on the hilltop of his belly, making it quite apparent he was in the midst of trying to snatch a few zees.

  Tallis briefly glowered at the angel before his attention shifted to the bloodied carcass he’d dropped at Bill’s feet. It was still covered in dirt, and obviously not skinned.

  “Why have ye nae skinned our sooper?” Tallis demanded loudly. His jaw was tight and his eyes narrowed to slits in obvious irritation.

  Bill shrugged, keeping his eyes closed. “Figured we could cook it with the skin still on it. Fur should singe right off; an’ that saves me a whole lotta time when I could be asleep an’ dreamin’ about big tatas.”

  Tallis approached the lazy angel and kicked the bottom of his foot. Bill immediately opened his eyes when Tallis kicked his foot again. Bill sat up, drawing his legs up while frowning at the now enraged Titan.

  “Fuck, dude! What’s your problem?”

  “Ah am tired of ye nae carryin’ yer weight!” Tallis roared as he kicked Bill’s other foot until Bill finally stood up. “Ye are the most useless dunderheid Ah ever saw! Ye refuse ta help an’ only exist ta feed yer hoongry mouth! So git off yer sorry arse an’ skin that bludy carcass!”

  “Damn, dude, chill the hell out!” Bill replied as he shook his head, looking like he was about to argue. Thinking better of it, only seconds later, he walked over and retrieved the carcass along with the blade Tallis gave him. All the while, I didn’t miss him muttering something indiscernible.

  “Whit are ye goin’ oan aboot?” Tallis finally asked him, wrapping his arms over his chest as he peered down and addressed Bill.

  Bill continued to hold his head down, but looked up at Tallis with his eyes, meaning his feelings were hurt. “I was just sayin’ that the only reason I didn’t already skin the damn thing was ’cause I got sphincter trembles an’ I don’t like havin’ everyone know!” he finished as his chin started to quake.

  “Ye got what?” Tallis roared with no attempt to mask his foul mood.

  “Look, dude, I haven’t pinched a loaf in a few days. Now, I’m afraid to relax my sphincter. Who the hell knows what the fuck’s gonna come out if I do!” Bill wailed in despair, throwing his arms up in a dramatic gesture. “So just sue me for failin’ to broadcast it!” he railed as he shook his head. He dropped his gaze to the ground and repeatedly blinked before adding, “It’s freakin’ embarrassin,’ man.”

  Tallis was temporarily at a loss for words. He didn’t say anything, but studied Bill for a few more seconds while shaking his head before turning his attention back to me.

  “An’ thanks for all the low commentary, bro, an’ for steppin’ all over my dick,” Bill trailed off. His voice started hitching, which indicated he was very close to crying. “Not cool, man, not cool at all.”

  “Mayhap if ye carried yer own weight,” Tallis started, but Bill interrupted him.

  “You don’t pour my cereal, bro,” he spat out. “You never lived my life so you can’t know the first thing abo
ut all my struggles,” he said while shaking his head emphatically. “You never walked a day in my socks, or whatever the fuck they say! My point is, you can’t imagine all o’ my trials an’ tribulations, you self-righteous, overgrown, ballsack!”

  “Bill,” I started, trying to keep my smile from showing. He could be so dramatic sometimes. Not to mention completely ridiculous. The only trials and tribulations he’d had to endure were of the lack of beer or the lack of sex variety.

  “No,” Bill insisted as he hit me in the shoulder lightly with the palm of his hand. “Frickin’ Tido the Royal Fuck needs to hear this!” Then he turned back to Tido … the Royal Fuck. “Someone needs to enlighten the cocksmith an’ tell him he’s a total man bitch! He needs to start chillin’ an’ stop bein’ such a douche bag!”

  “Och aye,” Tallis agreed, nodding, without appearing the worse for wear. “Ah dae need tae hear this. Pray, continue, stookie angel.”

  “I will!” Bill roared back at him. “An’ take that stupid ‘stookie angel’ comment an’ shove it right up your hairy ass!”

  “Bill,” I repeated, not wanting to test Tallis’s patience, which I imagined was dwindling rapidly. The last thing I wanted was for Bill to ruffle Tallis’s tail feathers enough to make him take off and leave us in the Dark Wood to fend for ourselves.

  But Bill refused to be silenced.

  “No, nips!” he yelled at me before aiming his glare back to the cocksmith. “I’m sick to death o’ your ballbustin’! You’re always givin’ us a contact sad with your BS attitude. Dude, we’re all in this pile o’ horseshit together, so get used to it! Shit no more bricks, an’ start takin’ this crap in stride! I get it that later ago you were like some big badass who like murdered your own family, or some shit, but that’s so long ago that you need to get over it! All that shit in your past is makin’ you act like a big ol’ ass jacket in the here and now, bro! An’ as for me and the nerdlet, we can’t take no more of it!”

  Tallis didn’t respond, probably since he had no clue what Bill was going on about. As to me, Bill had lost me about halfway into his rant. I had to imagine he’d lost Tallis a lot earlier.