Repossessors of Souls: Expendable Pawns

by Danae Ayusso

  Issues, and the fact that we were supposed to kill each other in the championship round of this reality show from Hell we somehow got ourselves into, aside, it was the perfect moment—mainly because he was being nice and wasn’t talking anymore.

  So with all of that said, why did I have to ruin the moment that time?

  “Why do I feel like I can trust you?” I blurted out and instantly his hand dropped to his lap. “You didn’t have to stop,” I assured him.

  “It is inappropriate.”

  I glared at him. “The action, the sentiment behind it, or the person on the receiving end?” I demanded.

  “All the above,” he informed me, pushing me out of his way then headed towards the door.

  Asshole!

  Before I thought about it, Persuader was in my hand and I was pulling the trigger. Angelus spun through the air, smashing into the door. To my surprise, he landed on the balls of his feet, crouched and ready to attack with a sword in hand.

  “Bring it on, bitch,” I said then made a face at him.

  He snarled, eying where the bullet grazed his bicep.

  “You wanted a reason,” I yelled. “That was it. Kill me! You’re the sonuvabitch that wanted a reason, so I gave you one.” Now I was taunting the pissed off angel, not the smartest thing I’d done in my life.

  “Do you think this is some kind of game?” he demanded, erecting himself.

  Was that a rhetorical question?

  “I’m sorry,” I said and flipped my hair over my shoulder, “did you not hear what everyone has been telling us since we met? This is nothing but a big game to someone, to many people I’m assuming, that I wasn’t even supposed to be a part of! And yet, here I sit, in front of the angel that has been commissioned to kill me, and all I can think about is how unfair it is for him to have to be put through that, to be shown all of the horrific shit I’m sure that my dossier contained, shit that even I don’t want to admit happened, and routines that I’m ashamed that I do.

  “Therapy twice a week, really? Who in the hell needs to go to therapy twice a week when they really don’t have anything to bitch about? Letting my asshole boss throw it in me wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but at least he never treated me like you do. And yet I can’t get enough of you. What does that say about me?” I demanded. “Do I really need to have over three-hundred pairs of shoes? No, but I do, and I like that I do, but I don’t like that you know that I like that. Does that even make sense?” I threw my hands up in frustration.

  Angelus just stood there with a vacant expression on his face, as if everything I just said didn’t matter in the slightest, and that he had no interest in anything that I just confessed and was now super self-conscious about. I was so finding a new profession and a new partner in crime. This one was a straight up emotionally numb prick!

  “Okay then, thanks,” I said and forced a smile as I got to my feet. “Adramelech is having something delivered, and he assured me that you would be able to help me with it. Before you ask, no, I don’t know what in the hell it is or what it’s for or why he’s giving it to me, but he said you’d know what to do with it.”

  He nodded.

  “Hopefully it isn’t a dick since you don’t know what one of those is for,” I tauntingly sang and pushed him out of the way of the door, and quickly hurried down the hall to Loke’s room where I knew Angelus wouldn’t follow.

  Thankfully Loke was still passed out from drinking way too much of his daddy’s alcohol, and was sprawled out on his bed with his ass in the air, hugging his pillow. He was über upset that his Dad and Uncle didn’t tell him what was going on. So of course Loke felt responsible because he was out of the loop, and it nearly cost me my life. But it was against the rules and each of them had placed large bets and didn’t want to forfeit them. Those types of bullshit games weren’t completely unheard of and uncommon in Edom, but usually they weren’t so elaborate and staged like the one I found myself in. If this game had nothing to do with me, or anyone I cared about, I most likely would have placed a bet on it myself. That was just how the world worked, but since it affected me…then again, I should have bet on myself.

  I sat on the floor next to the bed and looked at the wall, studying the pattern in the overly expensive wallpaper. The rivers of platinum and diamond dust reflected the early morning sun coming in through the slit in the heavy velvet curtains, making them appear as moving rivers of frivolous spending—not something I would usually say, and it was strangely mature for my frivolous and faux posh lifestyle that I lead to say it, but I was starting to realize that there was much about me that I didn’t like.

  Damn it! I need to stop with the self-realization stuff already. Like I don’t have enough to worry about at the moment, so that totally isn’t helping. And now I’m even more self-conscious because of what’s floating in Angelus’ head about me. That isn’t unnerving at all. I wondered who died that pawned me off on him. It’s what Upper Management has been wanting all along. Now I just need to get him in my batch, and then I’ll know some of his deep, dark secrets.

  Most likely they weren’t that great. It wasn’t as if Angelus was that cool or anything, but still, it would have been nice to know something about him since his words are always lacking…lacking was the understatement of a lifetime. His words weren’t there and never would be. Angelus wasn’t the open and sharing type.

  Unfortunately, dossiers only contained the most prudent information that pertained to the appointment. All of the crap I spouted off at therapy, the psych evaluations that the company made their employees consent to, the results of my most resent drug screening, dumb stuff that he didn’t need to know since I was practically standing right there in front of him. I didn’t care if he knew that I tested negative for drugs. I didn’t care if he knows that management thought that one day I would go crazy and shoot the place up. I didn’t care that he knew that I wear a size nine and that my bra size was thirty-six D.

  I was fine with all of that.

  But what I wasn’t okay with was him knowing where I was from, how I got here, and just how messed up I in the head I truly am. Because obviously, if I thought that I was in love with that annoyingly rude angle, than I had some sort of major malfunction going on that I really did need to see a shrink about.

  A soft knock came at the door before Odin popped his head inside. “Hey Zee, a messenger is here.”

  That was fast.

  I got up and nodded. “Thank you, m’Lord.”

  He closed the door behind me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

  Odin was a very menacing looking God; over seven-feet of muscular tan skin, striking blue eyes, white blond hair, and perfect rugged features. Odin was a good looking man, but he wasn’t my type, and the fact that he was like an uncle to me and that whole incestuous think didn’t float my missing boat, made him just another perfect godly face.

  “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you,” he said softly.

  “It’s okay, I totally understand,” I assured him. “Rules are rules.”

  “But you are playing by your own rules now,” he said with a smirk.

  Something told me that he knew something that I didn’t, and it was either going to be epically awesome or an epic failure.

  “Did I ever tell you about the war between the Norse and the Saxons?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  “It was brutal, what it was over I do not recall, possibly a wager, but the end result was all that mattered. The Saxons are no more because the Norse wiped them out. However, the battle was nearly lost. When we retreated from the field of battle to recoup from our losses, and went to take refuge in our homeland, it became clear what the problem was. We agreed to battle in the middle, a place that held no allegiance to either side, and that was our undoing. Were we looking to cheat? No. But we were fighting a war by their rules, not ours. Yes, the structure of their rules were very admirable and held merit as to their importance, however that isn’t how the N
orse fight. We fight by our rules and we make them up as we go along.

  “With that mindset, and without rest, we turned and marched on the Saxons that were recouping in their homeland. They never saw the attack coming, and it was brutal, but the element of surprise is what gave us the advantage. Like a wave of blond locust, we swarmed upon their precious home and wiped them out with a single strike. Was it honorable?” he rhetorically asked then shrugged. “The end result is what was desired and our people survived and the Saxons did not. Did it help to solidify that you don’t fuck with the Norse? Yes,” he said and smirked.

  I laughed.

  “But it also told the world that we play by our rules and no one else’s,” Odin said.

  I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant or if it was completely helpful at the moment.

  “Okay, what are you telling me to do?” I asked. “Find some necromancers and bring back the Saxons and kick their asses again and stand upon their graves with a flag sticking out of one of their asses claiming that Zion has fucking prevailed over the weak!?”

  He roared with laughter. “Yes, exactly that. How did you know that’s what Loki did?”

  I shrugged. “Totally seems like something he’d do.”

  “He is predictable,” Odin agreed. “What I’m saying is, when the chips are stacked against you, and they have the home field advantage, bring your own chips to the table with an ace up your sleeve, and bring their house down around them.”

  Obviously I needed to watch more poker tournaments on ESPN or something because I was at a total loss.

  “Thanks,” I said with a forced smiled and he kissed the top of my head.

  In the large family room, a cloaked figure stood with their black velvet cowl pulled up. In their hands was a rectangular box that hummed with power. I sniffed then cringed, damn it.

  “Hello Ariel, it has been centuries,” I mumbled.

  Ariel shook her head causing her cowl to fall back and reveal her short red hair. “Hello, Zion,” she sneered. Ariel didn’t like me and I didn’t like her. She was one of three that survived Adramelech’s wrath when his collection was pillaged; mainly because she was on the surface with him when it happened so he knew she had nothing to do with it. Even then, she never liked me. Ariel wanted to be Adramelech’s prize possession but I was, and it appeared that I still was even though I had been granted my freedom.

  Everyone needed a little ego boost now and then, and that was my much needed ego stroking for the day.

  “This is for you,” she said then held the box out.

  I looked at Odin and he nodded. The hulking God appeared in front of her and took the box. He couldn’t die, he was a God. But if I opened the box, and it was a trap from a pissed off concubine, then I could die and that would suck.

  Odin opened the box and a bright light poured from its contents, and he winced as he looked at the parcel. The pure white light made his features appear angelic and almost delicate instead of the rugged features he has.

  Ariel looked away, her black on black eyes watering from the intensity of the package’s contents.

  I was scared to look in the box. I wanted to know more than anything what was in it, but I was too scared to ask.

  When Odin’s vision cleared, he shook his head. “Adramelech, you are a ruthless genius,” he whispered.

  I sat on the couch staring at the wooden box. Angelus was sitting next to me, and most of Loke’s uncles filled the space. They were finding the turn of events most amusing. Me, however, was not amused and was even more confused than I was before.

  None of this was making sense to me. Why would, I mean, how could Adramelech even…

  “Whoa,” I eventually said.

  “To say the least,” Angelus said, silencing the others in the room. “It is…they will not see it coming,” he admitted.

  I nodded. “Do you think it will work?” I mumbled.

  “There are no certainties,” he reminded me. “However, once your batch is complete, we might not even have to bother.”

  “What does that mean?” I demanded over the snickering filling the room.

  Angelus leaned into me. “I am a very bad angel, so I am sure that my dossier is filled with the exploits of all of the evil that I have done, just as yours was flooded with all of the sales you have hit this past year. I did not know that there were that many non-seasonal sales in a single calendar year.”

  Was that a joke?

  I smacked him in the chest when he smirked. “You suck.”

  “My dossier will prove or disprove that,” he informed me and leaned back. “If we do this, do you think you can handle it?”

  “Rhetorical?” I asked.

  “No,” he said, which was a surprise. “I am curious more than anything. After all, you did miss me in the bathroom,” he reminded me and raised an eyebrow.

  “I never miss,” I informed him. “That was a love tap, or foreplay if you weren’t as smooth as a Ken doll.” I turned my attention to Odin. “I want to place a bet. Can you hold my marker?”

  He smiled. “Of course. I’m assuming that you are betting on you?”

  I smiled in return. “But of course. A whole dollar,” I purred with a mischievous smirk and he laughed, taking the dollar I was holding out for him, and he nodded his understanding and the room emptied aside from me and my angel.

  My smile fell and I sighed. “Since we’re going to die,” I said, unable to look at him, “can we have sex? I don’t want to die a virgin.”

  Angelus snorted—that was a first and of course it was at my expense. “You are the farthest thing from a virgin. And no, I am not having sex with you.”

  Damn it. Shot down and called a whore again, at least that time it was in a slightly polite and subtle way.

  “Is there a chance in hell that this is going to work? Be honest with me,” I whispered.

  “Of course it could work,” he said, looking at his bracelet. “However, most likely it will not and we will die before we even face those responsible.”

  I laughed, it wasn’t funny in the least, but what else could you do in a situation like that?

  “And yet getting laid isn’t an option. What is?” I smirked.

  “Preparation,” he suggested and I made a face at him. “We need protection.”

  A smile consumed my face. “Aw, and here I thought you didn’t care. But I don’t know why you’re concerned with protection, especially since angels and demons can’t procreate with each other.” I wagged my tongue at him and he rolled his eyes.

  Okay, he wasn’t finding me amusing in the least. I spun around and stretched out on the couch, making myself comfortable, using his lap as a pillow.

  “What did my dossier show you?” I asked conversationally.

  Angelus looked down at me, his eyes moving over my face many times. “Are you sure you want to know?”

  No, not at all.

  “Yes.” I batted my lashes at him.

  He looked away from me. “You like pie, the fountain at the park, shopping, shoes, those strappy ones at that one place by that designer that sounds like something you say when you sneeze.”

  “Huh?” I sat up. There was no way that my dossier was that generic, and strappy?! “They aren’t strappy,” I said and made a face at him. “Wait,” I straddled him and ran my fingers over the delicate tattooing on his chest. The black tattoo illuminated gold and white as my fingers ran over it. “My name isn’t on there,” I whispered. “You lied to me?” I choked, looking up at him.

  “I had to.”

  “There are others still,” I said; now I was talking to myself.

  How could he, I mean, why would he lie to me?

  “Zion, I needed to die in order to keep you safe.”

  I slapped him as hard as I could…that was a total lie, I punched him, broke a nail in the process and possibly crushed a knuckle, but it was totally worth it. His jaw cracked, head snapped to the side, and blood stained his teeth.

  “You didn’t want
to keep me safe!” I snarled in his face and my hand wrapped around his throat. “You are a chicken shit bastard that wanted off of this ride and wanted out, and the only way you could do that without pissing daddy dearest off was to lie to me and make me kill you. Do you not care what that would have done to me?!” I yelled. “What else have you lied about?” I demanded.

  Angelus pulled my hand from his throat and bent it backwards, it hurt like hell, but I was too pissed off to think or give a damn about it right now.

  “Everything,” he snarled in my face.

  Wait, what?

  “What do you mean?”

  “You are a smart girl, figure it out,” Angelus hissed, shoving me off of him to the floor.

  In a confused daze, I watched him sulk from the room, his hands shoved in his pockets, feet actually making contact with the stone and wood floor for once. He’d been lying to me the entire time, but what specifically had he been lying about?

  In order to figure it out, I need to figure him out. I need to know who Angelus is.

  I scrambled to my feet and hurried from the room and up the massive, winding staircase, taking the stairs two at a time, eventually reaching the top floor of the eight story mansion. I knocked on the twenty-foot double wooden doors off to the left and waited.

  Nervously I shifted my weight from foot to foot while I waited. I was hoping that I could find the information that I needed to before it was too late and I’d have to kill the asshole that I was rather confident that I was in love with. What I should have been asking was why I thought I loved him. Why would or could I love someone that was quite possibly the biggest asshole that had ever been created and that treated me like total shit all of the time and lied to me and went out of his way to make me feel horrible? That was what I should have been asking, but I wasn’t. And that should have pissed me off, and it did piss me off, but not enough for me to be overly concerned with it. That stupid little voice in the back of my head was telling me that Angelus had his reasons, we all did, and that I needed to find out what those reasons were before I completely wrote him off.