by Anela Deen
Chapter 18
To be fair, I really had no idea what I was doing. I understood very well this could still end up with me shot dead next to a koi pond. Alice didn’t exactly provide an orientation packet on this type of thing. Sainted intercession was something I knew from Nana, who prayed to them daily. Whatever conversation took place between them and the Big Guy was a mystery, but I had to try. There were two souls at stake here, along with the added bonus of sticking it to Sebastian.
Plus, I wouldn’t mind saving my own hide in the process.
Jo sat on one of the benches, the gun resting on her lap. “How does this work?”
I kneeled in front of her. She stiffened and put a protective hand on the gun, but she needn’t have bothered. There was only one way out of this for all of us and it wasn’t the gun.
“Like I said, I’m new to this sainthood thing,” I said. “Maybe just ask me for help. You know, the way you’d ask a friend.”
She hesitated and then laid her hands on my shoulders. Instinctively, I closed my eyes. Her voice drifted over me, tangible as a cool mist against my skin.
“Please, help my brother Nathaniel.” Her voice pinched over his name. “Please, send him to be with our mother. Let him be at peace.”
I repeated her request. Poured myself into the words. Words that lived on the air and in the flesh. A supplication.
The answer came immediately, their voices an echo through the branches of trees, soft as the brush of feathers. Messengers.
“He is in a prison.” My eyes remained closed. “One he can’t leave.”
Jo’s hands shook. “So, he is being punished. Why can’t he be forgiven?”
“That’s not it.” I tilted my head, listening. “Sebastian lied to you. Your brother can free himself. He just won’t.”
“Why?” Her voice rose in anguish. “Can you talk to him? Can you tell him to go home?”
“I’ll try.”
I reached for him. I cast my thoughts toward his name.
Down.
Down.
Deep into the gloom. Screams touched my senses. A pit of reaching, thrashing arms. The smell of flame and ash. Fear, deep and gripping, crushed my insides and I reached up to take Jo’s hands. She held them tight, even as we both trembled.
There, amid the bowels of suffering, I found him. In a cage of invisible bars.
I called out to him. “You don’t belong here.”
But he could not or would not hear me. Despair wrapped around him like a tourniquet. He didn’t know me. He didn’t believe me.
If he only knew what his sister was willing to sacrifice for him…
I cupped a hand over Jo’s mouth and recalled her words. I didn’t know if this was possible—I was running mostly on instinct here—but I channeled what she’d told me into the darkness that surrounded him.
“I couldn’t save him in life…”
There, he recognized her at least.
“I can’t fail my brother again…” An image of the gun pointed at me. “I signed a contract.”
That caught his attention.
“Jo?”
She gasped. “I can hear him.”
“Tell him,” I said. “Tell him everything.”
Her breath fluttered against my palm. “Can you hear me, Nate?”
“Yes.” The jubilation of his spirit washed through me and vanished into fear. “What contract? What have you done?”
“It’s my fault you’re there. I should’ve been with you. I should’ve helped you.”
“No, not your fault, sis. It never was.”
“But I can free you. I can take your place.”
“No! Joey, this is no place for you.”
“Or for you. You can leave it.”
“I’m condemned.”
“You’re not. You just have to go home.”
“I’m not wanted there.”
It was another hand that sent the light through me then, bright as crystal held up to the sun. The darkness scattered and through that opening, Nate was beckoned. Open arms welcomed him. Voices, hale and true, called his name.
Joy rushed through his spirit. I felt it, like a wave cresting over me.
“Home,” he whispered. “Yes.”
Despair gave way to elation and the cage that held him crumbled to dust. He rose up. Torment and death scratched at his feet, reaching to pull him back. The light hurled them back like shadows beneath the rising dawn, and he was lifted beyond their grasp.
Chapter 19
Standing next to my truck again, I watched their van disappear down the street. My feet seemed planted to the ground, the sound of Jo’s thanks ringing in my ears.
“We’ll be in town for a while,” she’d told me. “Until our sister is well enough for the trip home.”
She’d glanced back at the others waiting in the van, her mask back in place. Neither of us had said anything about what happened when we met up with our ride. There were no more words needed on the matter, not after what we’d shared.
But as she’d climbed into the van, a sudden worry that Sebastian might try to trick her into a contract again claimed me. I’d hurriedly fished a dogeared business card out of my wallet and handed it to her. She’d accepted it with a smile and a question in her hazel eyes.
“If you need other locks opened,” I’d said, then added more quietly, “Or if you need a friend in town.”
“In that case, maybe,” she glanced behind her again, “maybe we’ll be seeing you again. Sam.”
I still wasn’t sold on the idea that we were all following a celestially determined thread, but there, in that moment, I wondered if our meeting was more than just a coincidence. I could no longer pretend my ability meant nothing—or that doing nothing with it was an acceptable choice. If this was what I was supposed to do, then I intended to embrace it. Not that I could ever fathom calling myself his servant, but for the people who needed me, for the ones standing on the edge, them I would gladly serve.
The rising sun had turned the horizon a bright tangerine. It was almost six o’clock in the morning when I checked my watch. Visiting hours at the hospital started in two hours. That left enough time to get some breakfast at the 24-hour restaurant in town.
A short stack with bacon, hashbrowns, and fried eggs. The perfect thing to round off a well-executed caper.
Keys in one hand, I climbed into my truck. Up until then I hadn’t realized how tired I was. Now the mountain fell on my head. I set the keys in the ignition and grabbed my travel mug from the door, giving it a shake. A small slosh answered. One more swallow. Probably ice cold and disgusting, but coffee was coffee.
I upended it into my mouth like a shot of whiskey.
“Busy night?”
Coffee dregs shot through my nose as I gagged, turning to find Alice in the passenger seat.
“Come on, I’m a man without sleep,” I said, still half-choking. “Where’s your sense of mercy?”
“Not my forte, I’m afraid.”
“I’m getting that bell for you,” I glowered. “I’m having it engraved.”
Mild amusement wandered over her impassive face.
“Thanks for all your help, by the way,” I said. “I could’ve used some of that mentorship tonight, you know.”
“You seemed to be doing fine.”
“Wait, you were watching?”
“Naturally.”
“So, when the gun came out, at exactly what point were you going to step in?”
“I was curious what you would do. Besides, some of your lessons will have to be—how do they call it?—sink or swim?”
Uh-huh. Was there a mentor version of Protective Services?
“Besides,” she added, “a death like that would have martyred you. As I said before, that is not how you will die, at least not the first time. Or did you forget the free pass I granted you after your assistance to me?”
Oh right, my empty death. It was good to have things to look forward to.
“At an
y rate,” she said, looking out the windshield. “You did very well. A successful intercession and you made Sebastian look bad.”
There was no mistaking the smug delight that gave her.
“He tried to set me up,” I said. “Apparently he’s the grudge type. Should I be worried?”
“He’ll be too busy explaining himself to bother you for a while.”
She seemed overly nonchalant about it. I remembered too well the fear in her eyes when she saw him last time to believe it.
“Well, I think I deserve something to eat.” I started the engine. The old Ford rattled and rumbled comfortingly.
“I will leave you to your meal.”
“Unless you want to join me?”
Her eyes met mine, a blue wall that couldn’t quite hide her astonishment. “I don’t eat, Sam.”
“Good, because I’ve only got ten bucks in my pocket.”
She gave me a sour look that said she didn’t see the humor in that.
I tossed an exaggerated grin her way. “Kidding?”
“I’m amazed you survived the night.” Her expression turned sly. “By the way, Locksmith, you might be interested to know there exists a third book in your romance novel series.”
“Why would that interest me? I was just joking before. Those books are really my mom’s.” Which was true. No need to mention that I’d voluntarily borrowed and then never returned them.
From the knowing look Alice gave me, my poker face needed work.
“Does this mean you don’t wish to know where the last print version of The Dauphin’s Desire is located in your town?”
“Alice,” I groaned. “Isn’t there some way we can just pretend it’s for my mom?”
Her mouth curved in a devilish smile. “None at all.”
“Food first,” I sighed. “Then books. That is, if you’ll share a booth with me?”
Her careful expression became indecipherable. “You want my company.”
I did, despite her teasing. Or maybe because of it. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”
“There are some who would say so.” She leaned back against the passenger seat. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to explain a few things to you.”
“Then it’s settled. Breakfast for two.” I shifted the truck into gear, deciding not to examine the glad feeling having her with me a bit longer brought. I had a few things to go over with her too, in particular the strange presence I’d felt looking back when I broke the binding spell, though I had trouble hanging on to the details of it, as if the memory was fading.
“Seat belt, Sam,” Alice reprimanded. “I’ve seen the consequences of enough road side collisions for one evening.”
Right, wouldn’t want to get myself into any trouble. At least not until after my eggs.
PART THREE
HUDDLED in my truck parked at the top of Bellemer’s look-out hill, I stared resentfully down at the city buildings below steeped in the early grey of dawn. Hardly a car on the road. Just the butcher, the baker…and one groggy locksmith.
With a sigh, I fixed my sights on the horizon again. Waiting. I’d seen every dawn and dusk for almost four weeks. When she’d assigned it, Alice had described the activity only as a required task. Being Death, she wasn’t one for lengthy explanations. She’d officially ruined this particular marvel for me. The rising and declining light of the sun filled me with annoyance instead of wonder these days. Sure, it was pretty, but so was sleep. I missed my bed and its cozy flannel sheets.
With my elbow propped on the driver’s side door, face half-mashed into my palm, my eyes drifted closed as the first rays of scarlet and amber peaked over the horizon.
“What do you see?”
“Blarg!” I bolted upright, smashing my knee into the steering wheel.
Alice had appeared in the passenger seat. She gazed out at the sunrise through my speckled windshield.
I glared at her and rubbed my leg. “Have I mentioned the poltergeist routine is getting really old?”
She turned an expectant stare toward me, eyes like blue ice against a pale-gold complexion. “What do you see?”
In the past weeks she’d shown up many times to ask me this question. Invariably, my answer failed to impress.
“I see a yellow gas giant coming into view after the Earth completes one rotation on its axis.” That came out a bit smug. I’d looked it up the online yesterday so I’d at least have something more than my usual shrug and grunt.
The glimmer of anticipation vanished from her face. “You aren’t taking this seriously.”
Watching the sun go up and down? No kidding.
“It might be easier if you told me what I’m looking for.”
“Then you would see what I told you to see. That would defeat the purpose of this exercise.”
“How abstract of you. If the purpose was to drive me into sleep-deprived mania, mission accomplished.” I rubbed at one temple. “In what way does this help me figure out the task I’m supposedly destined to complete?”
“Supposedly? Do you doubt it still?”
I didn’t. As the days slipped past, a growing sense of unease wormed through my thoughts, as if a date on the calendar had been circled, only I couldn’t page ahead to see it. Living without knowing the shape and scale of what I might be called to do troubled what little sleep I got, and the long stretches of solitude watching daylight rise and fall didn’t help matters.
“I don’t doubt it,” I told her. “But I’m not getting anything out coming here every day to do this.”
“Truly, given how you’ve applied yourself to the assignment, I am astounded.”
Did Death just crack wise with me?
I crossed my arms over my chest. “All I’ve learned is that this twice daily appointment makes it difficult to make any plans or, you know, have a life.”
That sounded whiney. Alice’s expression concurred.
“Try to think beyond your finite existence into something nobler than…your morning donut.” She eyed with distaste the empty pastry papers and disposable coffee cups strewn on the floor by her bare feet.
“Not all of us can be of the non-corporeal variety. I still have to eat. And sleep, even if those things don’t matter for you.”
“They matter to me in as much as they don’t interfere with your progress. Your social needs matter to me not at all.”
Ever blunt, that was Alice.
“What do you know about social needs anyway?” I grumbled mulishly.
“More than I would like. You are hardly circumspect about yours.”
I uncrossed my arms with a narrowed gaze. “Spying on me, Alice?”
“The threads of all human life are in my keeping. It costs me little to know where you are and with whom.”
I shifted in my seat. “Yeah, well, I’d appreciate you switching it off when I’m on a…”
A what? An outing? A social engagement? A person-accompanying-another-person-casually? I wasn’t exactly sure what to call my new friendship with Jo. They weren’t dates, that much I knew. They were fun. Comfortable. A relationship without the pressure of becoming something. There was a word for it but it escaped me. Exhaustion was helpful that way.
I realized I’d never finished my sentence and filled in the blank with a smooth, “You know what I mean.”
A hint of amusement tugged at one corner of Alice’s mouth. As usual, she found my discomfort hilarious.
“I will do my best to look elsewhere at those times.”
I gave a slight hunch of my shoulders and turned my eyes toward the dashboard. “I guess it doesn’t really matter. She’ll be going home soon.”
All way over on the west coast. Washington State. I supposed there was always social media to stay in touch. Of course, I sucked at that. My adorable snark just didn’t translate well into written text.
Alice’s tone was surprisingly conciliatory. “Perhaps that is best. Involvement with a witch is hardly prudent.”
I gave a laugh. “Considering th
e company I’ve been keeping lately, I’d say it is.” Uh-oh. That sounded a lot like I didn’t appreciate Alice’s company. “Not that I mind of course. I like when you’re around—I mean, well you know, it’s just…at least Joelle’s human.”
I should just stop talking.
She didn’t give any sign of offense, though the glance she flicked my way was cool. “If you require this social life, perhaps it would be wiser to choose someone more mundane for your biological needs.”
“My biologi—We’re just friends. Platonic!” I crowed the word as it finally came to me. “That’s what we are. And I’ll have you know I’m a gentleman, Alice, but thanks for the baboon comparison.”
“I intended no insult,” she said mildly. “A gentleman, you say?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’m curious, what is your modern take on this archaic custom?”
“My modern take?” I sensed an impending trap here.
“At its height, a gentleman’s behavior had very specific rules. I take this to mean yours does not.”
“Oh, it definitely has rules.”
“Do elaborate. I’m so rarely entertained.”
“You want specifics? All right then.” I drummed my fingers on the wheel to gather my thoughts. “Okay. For example, if it were you, I’d ask you out on a date and then pick you up from your house.”
“Honk the horn a few times from the driveway, would you?”
“Do you want to hear this or not?”
Her eyes glinted. “Apologies. Continue.”
“So, I’d come to your door to pick you up. I’d bring flowers—not roses because that’s weird. Maybe a mix of some kind. And I’d say something nice.”
She wrinkled her brow. “Nice?”
“Yeah. Maybe you’d have your dark hair up and I’d say it was pretty. Then I’d take you to dinner—a fancy place. With a tablecloth.” I leaned my head back against the seat, feeling wistful for reasons I couldn’t explain. “If the weather was good, I’d buy us an ice-cream and we’d go for a walk by Glade Park where they keep the twinkle lights up year-round.”
“After which you’d introduce the idea of biological activities?” she mused.
