Slow, hypnotic music poured through the kitchen doors, a clear sign that the night had not stopped simply because the father of all evil had flounced into the place.
“I’m going to go see if Dad needs any help,” Reggie said, leaving the group to slip through the doors.
Gideon groaned. “I better go, too. Dad couldn’t mix a drink if his life depended on it.” He followed the youngest into the crowd.
“I’m not doing anything,” Magnus said with an indifferent shrug. “But I’m guessing you two want some alone time so I better make myself scarce.” With a salute, he spun on his heels and stalked in the opposite direction of the dining area.
Riley looked at Octavian. “I should be out there helping.”
He nodded. “I’ll be out in a moment.”
With a final squeeze to his fingers, she left his side and walked out to face the music.
The room was as somber as ever. Demons masquerading as people sat at tables, hunched over their drink of choice with expressions one would wear at a funeral. Riley had never been a bar dweller, truthfully couldn’t even recall the last time she’d ever been inside a bar or had a drink, but she was almost positive people weren’t supposed to look that gloom with alcohol in their hand.
“Why are they like that?” she asked Gideon, while she waited for her order to be prepared.
“What’s that?” He spared her a single fleeting glance before focusing once more on the strange, blue liquid he’d poured into a tiny shot glass. He topped it off with a light cream and something she could have sworn was crushed insect legs.
“Why is everyone so… down?” She gestured to a group of solemn woman a few tables away. “I mean isn’t booze supposed to make people, I dunno, happy? It works on the Friday crowd.”
Gideon snorted. “They’re waiting to get out of Hell. They sit here all night until dawn, hoping their name will be called. A lot of them have been here every night for centuries. That’s a long time to wait, and when they’re not waiting, they have to return to Hell until the next night. I’d be kind of down, too. As for Fridays, that crowd is a younger generation of demons. They have yet to experience the weight of eternity in Hell. In a few centuries, they will be just like the others, waiting for their name to be called.”
“How do they get their name called?”
He gestured with a nod of his head towards where Liam sat in the corner, bent over a stack of papers. “Mom and Dad review their application, judge if their powers, their previous sins and the danger they could cause humans. If accepted, they are given a fortnight into the mortal realm. If denied, the demon is sent back to Hell.”
Riley frowned. “Why do demons want to leave? Aren’t they supposed to like living in Hell?”
Gideon met her gaze with an arched brow. “Would you want to live the rest of your life in Hell, darling?”
Okay, so he had her there.
“They shouldn’t be allowed in the human world at all.”
He shrugged. “They need the energy force.”
“Energy force?”
“Yeah.” He set the drink down on her tray. “Demons need energy and the best source of energy comes from humans. There aren’t a lot of those in Hell. Well, the alive sort anyway.”
Riley exhaled. “Being human sucks sometimes.”
Gideon chuckled. “Being a Caster isn’t any better most days. The very demons in this room would like nothing better than to tear our throats out. It’s only a matter of time before they decide they’ve had enough.”
Riley shuddered at the image he was painting. “Don’t say that. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you guys.”
The seriousness in his face melted into a charming smile. “Buck up, little sister. You’re not going to lose us yet.”
She took up her tray and eyed him with a grin. “Better not or I’ll kick your ass.”
With his rolling laughter following her, Riley went to deliver her order.
Chapter 27
The night ended uneventfully with the damned shuffling off into the night and Magnus shutting the door behind them. Riley watched as the heavy pieces of wood slammed into place and frowned.
“Where do they go?” she asked, turning to the two behind her. “Every night, they walk in, drink and then walk out. If this is the gateway to Hell, shouldn’t they, I dunno, disappear through the floorboard or something?”
“We’re not hiding the doorway to Hell in the basement,” Magnus muttered, stalking across the room and dropping into a vacant chair. “Hell’s out there.” He jerked his head backward towards the door.
Riley’s eyes went round. “Hell’s out there in the human world?”
“Hell,” Liam began, giving a grunt as he lowered himself more gingerly into a nearby chair. “Is actually neighbors with Heaven. The two coincide on a single plain of existence just on the other side of the Veil. Final Judgment is more of the application office, like when you go to get your driver’s license and need to wait at the DMV to take your test.”
Riley blew out a breath. “I remember that day. It certainly felt like Hell.”
Liam laughed, making Riley grin.
Octavian moved to stand at Riley’s side. His gloved hand rested lightly on her lower back as he leaned in to murmur into her ear. “How are you?”
She leaned into him. “Tired.”
His fingers glided up the column of her spine to the place between her shoulder blades. “I’ll drive you home.”
No sooner had the words left him when the front doors opened and Gideon stomped in under an opaque cloud. He slammed the doors behind him and stomped to his twin. The chair screeched as he yanked it out from beneath the table and dropped into it.
“That woman… she drives me to commit murder.”
Magnus stiffened. “Gid…”
Gideon waved him away. “Relax. I didn’t, but I wanted to.” He rapped his knuckles on the table hard. “It would certainly wipe all that smug arrogance from her face.”
“What’s going on?” Liam said, looking from one son to the other.
“Valkyrie Devereaux.” Gideon bit out the name as though it was tinged with slug guts. He slammed a fist down on the table. “Ugh! Even her name makes me want to punch something. She’s—”
“What happened?” Octavian cut in.
Gideon threw his hands up. “What do you think happened? She’s still on her stupid high horse about honor and duty.” He turned to Magnus. “I should.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Magnus retorted sharply.
“You’re right. I think I’d suffer more than she would.”
“Gideon,” Octavian barked. “What did she say? Is she going to the Summit about Riley?”
Gideon sighed, ruffling a hand through his hair. “I tried everything short of beating her over the head with a brick, knocking her unconscious and kidnapping her. Even that is quickly looking very enticing, especially the beating over the head part.”
“Okay?” Octavian prompted, gritting the word through his teeth, his impatience evident in his eyes.
“Well, I clearly didn’t do it,” Gideon said. “I think I deserve a gold star for restraint and for having the patience of a saint.”
“Not that,” Octavian hissed. “Did you talk to her? What did she say?”
Gideon looked down. “She’s going to her father by the end of the week.” He fixed his gaze on his older brother. “Sorry, man. I tried.”
“That’s not enough time!” Octavian growled, turning to his father.
Liam put up his hand as he got to his feet. “I’ll talk with Arild. We were good friends during the war. I’m sure I can convince him—”
No sooner had the words left him when there was an audible puff and thick, coiling smoke rose from the ground only a few feet from where the group stood. Riley was thrust behind Octavian’s back as a figure emerged from its center.
The man was unnaturally thin and tall, reminding Riley of an alien, except his face was long and hound-doggish. He w
ore a black suit with a red tie that clashed with his gray skin. His eyes may have once had color, but were a dull, washed out gray that were heavily hooded as though at any moment, he might fall asleep where he stood. He surveyed the room with very little interest, his long, thin fingers laced just at his collarbone.
“Septimus.” Liam hurried forward, hand extended. “We’ve been expecting you.”
Septimus blinked very slowly. “Liam.” His words trailed away, thin and wispy, but hoarse like a chain smoker. “I came.” He, with the same slow motion, as though he were moving through syrup, accepted the hand Liam offered him.
“Thank you.” Liam motioned him towards the closest table. “Please.”
“Who is that?” Riley whispered as Septimus took his sweet time accepting a chair.
“Septimus,” Octavian murmured. He turned his head so he could meet her gaze. “The Gravedigger.”
He was absolutely not what Riley had pictured the Gravedigger to look like. This man, although he gave off an aura of power, seemed harmless, not at all intimidating like his namesake.
“Your wife,” the man drawled, now comfortably seated. “Insisted it was urgent.”
Yet it took you three weeks to make an appearance. Thank God Kyaerin hadn’t said it was life threatening, Riley thought.
Liam took the seat across from him. “It is. Very.” He turned and motioned Octavian over. “We had a bit of an incident here a few months prior…”
Octavian turned to Riley, giving her his hand. “Okay?”
She nodded, setting her hand in his. “I think so.”
With a gentle squeeze, he led her to where his father and Septimus sat.
“So now the oath is binding her ascension,” Liam was saying.
Septimus’ flat, dull eyes roamed away from Liam and fixed on Riley as she got closer. “This is her?”
“Yes.” Liam gave her a comforting smile. He got to his feet and motioned for her to take his place.
Not so fond of the idea, but unwilling to be rude, Riley slipped into the warmth left behind in the chair and faced the Gravedigger.
His eyes were a washed out blue, she noted, and his face appeared doughy, which was intensified by the powder clinging to his creased skin. She wondered if she were to poke him in the cheek, would there be an indent left behind? But she refrained from doing so.
“Riley Masters,” he breathed.
Riley swallowed nervously. “Hello.”
There was a hint of a smile curving his paper thin lips, but just as quickly, it was gone. “Do you know who I am?”
Certainly not Santa Claus.
“The Gravedigger,” she murmured.
He gave a slight tip of his head in inclination. “Yes.” He hissed the single word so the S dragged out, reminding her of a snake. “I am the Gravedigger.”
Riley wondered if she should say hello again when he paused, but he quickly picked up his speech before she could.
“I am the keeper of records and the foreseer of all things that was, is and will be. I am the one that decides when it is time for a life to end and when it is time for a life to begin.” He bent his head to the side. “For example, I know your name is Riley Marlene Masters, named for your grandfather on your mother’s side and your great aunt from your father. You were born to Douglas Masters and Caroline Garnell. Your mother left when you were five. She has remarried since and…” he paused, his eyes narrowing as though he were looking into some realm only he could see. “Is expecting a daughter in a month’s time. The child won’t live.”
Riley gasped, leaping out of the chair. She stumbled into Liam, who caught her. “That’s a horrible thing to say,” she cried.
Septimus blinked those dispassionate eyes. “That is the truth.”
Riley didn’t know what to say, didn’t know where to start. She was going to have a half-sister, or she would have. Her mother had left them to start another, better family. She had always suspected that maybe her mother hadn’t wanted children at all, which was why she’d left, but clearly that hadn’t been the case. She just hadn’t wanted her.
It all bounced and ricocheted off the walls of her skull, spiking the nerves with a pang that made her see stars.
“That wasn’t why we asked you here,” Liam was saying when Riley pushed back the dullness pressing into her brain.
“It is not my job to cushion,” Septimus replied drawly. “I give only facts.”
Liam turned to Riley. “Are you all right?”
Nodding, Riley regained her seat. “Is there a way to save the baby?”
“No, it is her fate.”
Riley shook her head. “This is insane. There’s no way anyone can know that.”
Septimus did that annoying slow blinking thing as he spoke, “Fear not your insanity for in the darkness tis the only voice of reasoning. Instead, fear reality for it lies with a sickly sweet smile.”
“Riley.” Liam placed a tender hand on her shoulder before she could respond. “Show Septimus your mark.”
Hands shaking, Riley rolled up the sleeve on her right arm. She extended it so Septimus could see the faint design.
“Fascinating,” he said blandly.
Riley looked down at her arm. “What is?”
He sat back to observe her with a bit more interest than he’d shown since arriving. “A human baring an imprint mark. I haven’t seen one of these since before the Great War, before the Veil was divided and brother turned on brother.”
“Is that why when Octavian touches me, I see… images?”
This seemed to catch his attention even more than her mark. “Images?”
Riley nodded, going into the story of both her visions after coming into contact with Octavian.
For a long moment, Septimus merely gawked at her. She knew he was staring at her, because when he was looking into that other place that no one else could see, he got a glazed hue over his eyes like smoke twining off a boiling pot. There was none of that now. His vision was clear and discerning.
“Caveat,” he said at last.
Having never heard the word, Riley glanced at Liam for help.
“It means warning,” Liam said.
Riley turned back to Septimus. “Warning?”
But Septimus was studying her mark once more, tracing the pale lines with his eyes. “Forbidden are the children of Adam to lie with the seeds of darkness. Thrice shall be warned from their union, death shall prevail.”
Riley had never been very good with riddles, but she managed to grasp a bit of it. “So, I’m a child of Adam and Octavian is…”
Thankfully Septimus put her out of her misery by responding, “No Otherworlder can ever defile a daughter of Adam. In the eyes of the all-seeing, you are but children whereas those beyond the Veil have seen and done infinite sin.”
Cheeks pink, Riley frowned. “But we’ve never done any… defiling.” Man that sounded way less weird in her head.
“And you never shall so long as mortal blood runs through your veins.” Septimus sat back. “Twice already you have been warned to maintain your distance. The first in the form of fear, the second in the form of vision and the third, you will live it.”
Riley gulped. “Live it?”
“A mortal who does not heed the warnings will die a soulless death and go to where you saw, reliving you nightmare time and again.”
“So those things I saw and felt, they were premonitions of what will happen if I don’t stay away from Octavian?”
Septimus inclined his head. “Yes, the third time, you will not wake up again and will find yourself in the infernos you envisioned, watching as your love is snatched from you and taken under with no way for you to stop it.”
Riley shuddered at the memory. She jumped when a hand rested on her shoulder. Liam smiled kindly down at her and gave her shoulder a squeezed.
“But what of her ascension?” Liam said. “What will become of it? If she cannot ascend and she cannot remove the mark…”
“And she never will.
” Septimus unfolded his thin frame and rose.
Octavian moved forward. “What do you mean?”
Septimus paused in the midst of adjusting his suit jacket. “As I said, she will not ascend.”
Octavian frowned. “But she has the mark. It’s nearly all showing.”
Septimus rolled his eyes downwards to fix on Riley. “Yes.”
“So what will happen if she ascends fully?”
Octavian's Undoing (Sons of Judgment) Page 31
