War Within (Death's Contract Book 2)

by KJ Harlow

  “Hey, you want to have a coffee? I need to talk to you,” I said, eyeing the chair opposite mine suggestively.

  “I was actually called down to get you,” Tracy said. Seeing the question in my eyes, she continued. “You ever been to London?”

  Two

  “What?”

  “Mm-hmm.” I nodded solemnly.

  “So you’re saying that all this time, Death’s been able to communicate with the Ceased and he never told us?” Tracy said. We had been racing up the stairwell back to the control room. This revelation stopped Tracy dead in her tracks.

  “But that means…” she said, her voice trailing off. She looked straight through me as her eyes glazed over.

  “Yeah. It means that we can ask how Greg and Stan are doing!”

  “No Rose, not just that. What if…” Tracy seemed to be grappling with a monumental idea. “If he can get through to them, maybe there is a way that he can bring them back.” She said shakily, her eyes widening as she focused on my face.

  “No,” I said flatly. “That’s not possible. Stan’s gone, Greg’s gone. They can’t come back. Maybe they can communicate with us through Death, but that’s it.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Trace!” I grabbed my friend’s shoulders and made sure she was looking at my face. “No!” Her eyes shined intensely at me. “Forget I ever said anything,” I said, letting go of her.

  When I first came down to the Underworld, my initial impression of Tracy was that she was an airhead. All looks and no substance, she was the cheerleader type I would have given a wide berth to in high school. It didn’t take long for her to shatter that image in my mind. She had my back when I was suspected of being a spy for the Tormented, gave me the belief to Rid my first Conflicted and saved my ass several times when the Tormented came close to Ceasing me. She was the girlfriend I never had while I was alive.

  Greg’s Ceasing hit everyone hard but especially her. His goofiness was a beacon of light that made our lives as Deliverers that much easier to handle. I didn’t expect her to take what I said so seriously. I didn’t expect myself to react that way to her, either. Why did I care so much if she thought that Death could bring Ceased souls back? I swallowed a lump in my throat as I thought about Stan. Maybe I just hated having false hope.

  “Death said that he would tell me what they told him about me,” I said, hesitantly adding, “Greg and Stan, I mean.”

  “He just wants you to tell him if you still want to be a Deliverer, right?”

  “No, he wants me to tell him what I want.”

  Tracy brought her face inches away from mine. “Well, what do you want then? Do you want to be a Deliverer?”

  “I don’t know!” I said glaring at her.

  “Then find out.” Before I could respond she swept up the stairs, leaving me with only my thoughts for company.

  I placed my hand on the opaque glass separating the stairwell from the control room. It promptly disappeared, revealing a room in the shape of a semi-circle. This was the surveillance room that connected us the Overworld, helping us keep track of the movements of the Tormented. It was manned by souls known simply as workers. I never bothered to ask where they had come from, feeling embarrassed, I nodded politely when a few of them noticed I’d come in and smiled at me.

  Death spent a lot of time in this room, getting information from different workers as to the movements of the Tormented. Right now he was nowhere to be seen. I scanned the room; the other Deliverers weren’t here either. I saw shadows behind the other opaque glass door in the control room. They must have been having a meeting. I wasn’t sure I was in the mood to talk strategy and tactics to defeat the Tormented.

  “Rose!”

  I looked to the left of the Control Room where Walter was waving at me. The senior Deliverer grinned when I noticed him.

  “Walter, what’s up?” He jogged over. I eyed his red Lucent Gun, bouncing against his hip.

  “Nothing’s up with me,” his kind eyes crinkled as he looked down at me in concern. “How are you doing?” He must have just come from Death’s office. Did Death give him instructions to check on me?

  “I’m fine,” I said, not giving anything away.

  He crossed his arms and scrutinized me. “It’s OK to talk to me you know. Whatever you tell me stays between us.”

  “Really?”

  He feigned a hurt look then winked at me. “Follow me.”

  He led me towards Death’s office. Without knocking, he opened the gnarled, wooden door.

  “Death, Rose and I need to discuss something. The meeting room is currently occupied. Do you mind if we use this space?”

  Death looked up from his desk. His fountain pen was suspended above a piece of paper as his eyes darted between me and Walter. I kept my face as emotionless as I could, taking a leaf out of Tor’s book. I wouldn’t dare kick the Angel of Death out of his own office, but Walter clearly had some clout that I didn’t. That or he just relished the power play.

  “Why don’t you go down to your resting quarters?” Death asked.

  “It’s too far,” Walter replied, not missing a beat.

  The fireplace suddenly popped, as the tension in the room had just increased in magnitude. The portal back to the Overworld high up on the ceiling showed me that wherever it led to, it was a cloudy day.

  Death slowly pushed his tall armchair back. He stood up, straightening to his full seven-foot frame. His eyes were calm, but I knew there was a fire burning behind them. He collected his papers, straightened them and walked towards us. We stepped out of the way as he glided out of the gnarled wooden door, closing it behind him.

  I looked up at Walter, eyes shining in awe. He exhaled and returned my look, eyes twinkling merrily. “How about that talk then?”

  “So that’s what’s been on my mind.”

  I was sitting right in front of the fireplace with my feet crossed. Even though I couldn’t feel the heat, there was something comforting about it. Walter sat on the floor a few feet away from me. He had his back against the wall next to the fire place. His eyes were unfocused, as if deep in thought. I stared at him for a moment.

  “Walter?” No response. “Walter!” I said a bit louder. He woke up from his reverie, shaking his head vigorously before looking at me.

  “Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

  “Did you hear anything I said?”

  “Of course.” He cleared his throat. “You aren’t sure whether you want to be a Deliverer anymore. You’re weighing up your options right now. You want guidance.”

  “I don’t want guidance. I just want someone to listen to me.” I raised an eyebrow at him. He put his hands together in front of him in supplication.

  “I was listening to you. Did I miss something?”

  I lay back on the floor and stared up at the puffy, gray clouds floating behind the portal. “No – but I think I’m missing something. It’s not Stan. I’ve finished mourning. He’s Ceased, I get it, but…” I raised my arms, my fingers trying to grasp the clouds. “I’m just not sure,” I said, letting my arms flop onto the ground.

  “Well for what it’s worth, I’ve got some unfinished business with you so you have to hang around,” Walter said quietly. He was out of my line of vision but something in his tone made me sit up.

  “What do you mean?” He stared at me solemnly before the corner of his mouth twitched up.

  “You’ve got to take me back to that café of yours. That hot chocolate I had was to die for!”

  I blinked a few times then laughed out loud. I liked Walter when I first met him. Despite him accusing me of espionage about six months ago on my first mission to the Overworld, I had come to respect him. It wasn’t easy leading the Deliverers but he still did it with a cool head while trying to still be a nice guy.

  “Thanks, Walter,” I said, flopping back down onto the ground. “I needed that.”

  “We don’t always have all the answers that we want immediately. The bigger the que
stion, the longer it will take to think of the right answer. Just hang around with us for the time being. It will come to you when it needs to.” He stood up, groaning as he stretched his legs. “Besides, you have to admit that blowing Conflicted brains out is pretty fun.”

  I turned my head towards him, grinning. There was a heavy knock at the door that made me swivel my head the other way, towards the gnarled, wooden door that Death had left from. “Who is it?” Walter called.

  “It’s Tor,” came a clipped Norwegian accent through the door. “It’s time for us to start our briefing.” I sat up just as the door opened. Tor looked towards Walter first then down at me sitting in front of the fireplace.

  “Hello Rose,” he said. Behind his practiced mask of emotionlessness, an internal battle waged. He wanted to smile at me but could sense things still weren’t right. We hadn’t as much as held hands, let alone spent time together, not since I dealt him a slap across the face in The Room. A tiny cauldron of guilt bubbled in the pit of my stomach but I ignored it.

  “Great timing!” Walter exclaimed a little louder than usual. “Come Rose, let us make our way back into the meeting room. Tor, we’ll meet you there.” Walter looked pointedly at Tor. He regarded both of us before he nodded curtly and left.

  “Thanks – and don’t ask,” I said, extending my hand up to Walter. “Help a lady up?” He closed the distance between us in two steps, clasping onto my right hand. It was the first time I’d felt his hand. It felt smooth and sure, unlike Tor’s hand, which was hard and callused. I suddenly remembered what he’d told me: he was a businessman who had found himself on the wrong end of a deal gone wrong. He might not have done much manual labor before he died.

  He put his hand on his hip, gesturing at me to thread my arm through. “Madame.” I rolled my eyes at him but decided to humor him. We walked arm in arm back through to the meeting room.

  “What took you so long?” Agatha said irritably as I came through the door. “And you Walter.” She said, taking the hard edge off her tone.

  I sat down next to Tracy. I smiled at her but she ignored me. Looks like I still had a fire to put out. My eyes slid across the table and met with Silas, who nodded at me with a half-smile on his face. I could see Tor looking at me but I didn’t pay any attention to him.

  “Now that we are all here, let’s get started.” I sat back against my chair, regarding Agatha. She wasn’t tall, maybe five foot three, but she possessed a tongue sharp enough to lacerate anyone who dared challenge her. I didn’t like her when we first met but she delivered the sort of tough love I never got as a child. My memories of my childhood were blurry; all I had was an aunt who had let me stay with her. She was distant and I learned early on to never ask about my parents.

  “We have been tracking the movements of the Tormented for the last six months since the Ceasing of Stan,” Agatha looked around the room, her sharp gaze resting on me momentarily before she continued. “We suspect that they have set up a base somewhere in London. Our sightings of either the Tormented or any Conflicted have been virtually nil.”

  “Virtually?” I said. Agatha looked at me, slightly annoyed that I interjected.

  “There have been some random attacks in London of late: stabbings in broad day light, trucks being run into pedestrians and so forth. These have been linked to various terrorist cells. However, we know better.”

  “You think that the Tormented are behind these terrorist attacks?” I persisted. Agatha looked at me again. It looked like she wanted to chastise me for interrupting her but held back.

  “I don’t know,” she confessed. I opened my mouth to ask another question but Tracy beat me to it.

  “So do we have any proof that they are actually there?” There was silence in the room as all eyes were on Agatha. She started smoothing her Catholic nun’s habit out, something she always did when she was in an uncomfortable position. This time, she kept herself in check.

  “No,” she said, balling her right fist. She glared defiantly around the room, daring someone else to interrupt her. Tracy and I had mischievous smiles dancing across our faces. Even when we were arguing, we were still on the same wavelength about certain things, like trying to get under Agatha’s skin.

  “No,” she repeated, this time less loudly. “We haven’t actually seen them but…” her voice trailed off as she looked at me and Tor. She managed to give me a tight smile as she saw me widen my eyes in realization.

  “Back in the abandoned children’s hospital in Melbourne, Mortimer said that he was going back to London,” I said, nodding slowly. I glanced at Tor. Behind his emotionless mask, I saw a spark of recognition. Or was it something else?

  “Yes,” Agatha said, leaning forward as she put her hands on the table. Her wooden crucifix dangled out from around her neck momentarily before she casually tucked it back into her collar. “That’s all we have to go off, but I can feel it: Mortimer is in London.”

  “Has he got a home base, somewhere he operated from while he was alive?” Silas asked hopefully.

  “Yes, he does. Or I should say, did. The last time we checked, it had already been taken down.”

  “Does he have any family or friends?” Now Walter was chiming in. Agatha was silent for a while as she gazed into the wall behind me.

  “Not that I know of.” There was a pregnant pause in the room as everyone looked at each other uncomfortably. Finally, Walter spoke again.

  “So we have no leads and nothing to go off them,” he said in a low tone. “We’re going in blind.”

  “We’re not going in blind.” I said before I could stop the words coming out of my mouth. Agatha’s turned to me, her mouth open. Her face was a maelstrom of frustration, helplessness and… gratitude?

  “We’re not going in blind because Mortimer told us he was going to be in London,” I said, staring intently at Agatha. “That’s enough for me.” I leaned back in my chair and crossed my legs. Agatha stared at me for a moment longer before addressing everyone in the room again.

  “We’ll be going on a reconnaissance mission. Someone like Mortimer will likely target places where he can get the most attention. In Melbourne, he was careful and mostly stayed away from the public eye. In his home town, he’ll be even cockier than usual.”

  “Do you have any idea what he and Dante might be planning to do in London?” Walter asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Agatha said, shaking her head. “I can’t be sure, but I feel like they’re just biding their time. I’m sure Dante didn’t take too kindly to having his newest Tormented being Ceased before he could really use him.” She looked down at Walter. “We should be preparing for a retaliation of epic proportions.”

  Me and Tracy’s eyebrows went up in unison, causing Agatha to chuckle. “I know, I don’t often exaggerate.” Her face abruptly turned serious as she put her hands on the table and leaned into it again. “That’s because I’m not exaggerating.”

  “Could they be looking for a new human to turn into a Tormented?” Silas asked. Agatha shrugged.

  “It’s possible, but I don’t think they’ll be doing that this time. We haven’t found any distinctively high torment signatures in the area. Any that are we are monitoring, anyway.” The room was quiet for a while as everyone pondered what the Tormented’s next move could be.

  “Tracy and Rose,” the two of us sat up when Agatha mentioned our names. “You two will be coming with me on this mission.”

  “With her?” We said, pointing at each other at the same time. Walter and Silas laughed. Even Tor had a wry smile.

  “Yes, ‘with her’,” Agatha said, looking sternly at the two of us before allowing her face to soften with a maternal smile. I stared at Agatha, stone-faced while Tracy crossed her arms.

  “Now don’t be like that,” Agatha said, putting her hands on her hips. Think of it as a girls’ day out. Tracy brightened up immediately. She put her hands on her knees and leaned toward Agatha.

  “So you mean we’ll go shopping?” She said, her voice
lilting up hopefully.

  “We’re dead, remember?” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “I don’t care!” She said loudly. “I know we don’t need clothes and even if we did, we don’t have money anyway. But we can still window shop right?” Agatha looked at Walter exasperatedly, who put his hands in front of himself as if trying to extricate himself from the situation. She turned back to Tracy.

  “Oh, why not.” Tracy jumped to her feet and whooped. I was the sort of girl who felt most comfortable wearing a hoodie and sweatpants all day. I felt physically tired when I had to take off and try on clothes all the time. Stan was the fashionista in our relationship. I smiled as memories floated to the surface of my mind. Before I could indulge in them, I was pulled up by an ecstatic Tracy.

  “What are we waiting for? Let’s go now! Ooh, can we go to Oxford Street?” she exclaimed, a fleck of spit flying dangerously close to my face in her excitement. “I can see you in Burberry.” Tracy kept mentioning different designers’ names as she grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me around, all the while appraising me.

  “Help,” I mouthed to Walter pleadingly. It was too late; he was in an animated discussion with a bemused Silas about using long-range guns. Hopefully, we would find the Tormented on this reconnaissance mission. Blowing apart a Conflicted was an itch that I was dying to scratch.

  Three

  There was an explosion of chirping all around us as we flew out of the portal from the Underworld and landed back on solid earth. I stumbled and fell forward, breaking the fall with my hands; it’d been months since I had back up to the Overworld and inhabited my body again. Instead of standing up immediately, I rolled onto my back and lay spread-eagled on the lush grass. Every time I came back, it felt like I was being reborn again. I could feel every individual blade of grass against my skin. I felt my heart beat speed up as I breathed in the crisp air. Sunlight splashed across my face, broken by the branches waving lazily in the wind.