Hellfire and Brimstone

by Angela Roquet

  “The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.”

  —Sun Tzu

  This could not be happening. I’d done everything I was supposed to. I’d yielded to the council and let them bully me into letting Naledi revoke my unsanctioned abilities. I couldn’t see the potent auras of original believers anymore. That meant they weren’t supposed to see me in their human form anymore either.

  Didn’t it?

  I wasn’t entirely convinced this soul could see me—but better safe than on the chopping block again. It was time to take control of the situation.

  “These old-timers see all kinds of things on their deathbeds,” I said to Kevin and Ellen. I forced a small laugh and shrugged as I moved out of the man’s line of sight and further into the hallway. “Why don’t you two head on back to the ship and drop these souls off? Then go grab a pizza and meet me at the harbor.”

  Kevin’s brow crinkled but he nodded slowly, turning to take one of the teen souls by the shoulder. Ellen didn’t say anything as she laid a hand on the other boy, the one who had been ogling her since the morgue. He wrapped a meaty arm around her waist, but Ellen slapped his hand away from her hip, finally taking her eyes off me to glare at him.

  I nodded goodbye as they coined off, too nervous to speak for fear the old man might hear and start demanding more dessert again.

  Once I was alone in the hallway, I held my breath and peeked inside the man’s room. He moaned softly as he shoveled jiggly, orange cubes into his mouth. Then he lifted the tray and slurped at the sticky residue left behind. He caught sight of me again when the tray lowered and beamed a big, gummy smile before realizing I’d returned empty-handed.

  “Cherry and lime! Cherry and lime!” he cried and heaved the tray at me. It ricocheted off the open door and slid across the linoleum in the hall.

  I stepped out of the way as a nurse hurried into the room. “What’s gotten into you, Teddy?” she said, a hitch of alarm in her voice.

  “Cherry and lime,” he said softly, sobbing the words as he stared at me over the nurse’s shoulder.

  I swallowed and backed away from the threshold so that I was completely out of sight. The man was clearly a few headstones short of a graveyard. But there was no denying that he’d seen me. This was bad.

  Panic blossomed uninvited, kick-starting my survival mode. Kevin wouldn’t say anything. Of that, I was sure. Ellen was another story. Hopefully, she wasn’t angry enough with me to report the details of this little incident to the council. It was highly unlikely that we’d encounter another original believer during her probationary period—as long as she didn’t require more coddling than the week Jenni had suggested. But to be on the safe side, I made a mental list of the coin travel books I was going to have her check out from the academy library.

  Once the damage control plan was in place, my heart slowed to a more normal rhythm. Then my mind tried to wrap around the bigger picture. Naledi had removed my ability to see a soul’s aura. I’d tested that as soon as I’d come to after the procedure. It was a done deal. So why could this one see me? Was there something special about him maybe? I peered into the room again.

  The nurse finger-combed Theodore’s wiry hair, a tender gesture that failed to fashion the nest into anything even remotely respectable. “I’ll be right back, Teddy,” she said.

  “Cherry and lime?”

  “Yes, yes. Cherry and lime.” She paused as she stepped into the hallway and bent to pick up the weaponized lunch tray before heading off to fetch more dessert.

  I didn’t want to go in the room and cause another bout of hysterics, so I paced the hallway, occasionally glancing down at my watch. I was going to have words with Jenni’s new secretary. This timing mix-up had to be her fault.

  The nurse returned a moment later with a heaping tray of cherry and lime, and I stole a quick glance into the room as she delivered it. Theodore—Teddy—overlooked my existence this time, having eyes only for his colorful desserts. I guessed it was one upside of a deteriorating mental state, how something so simple could bring such joy. A silver lining to his mortal condition.

  I slipped out of the doorway as Teddy resumed his shovel and moan routine. A small headache was beginning to build at the base of my skull, and my stomach growled as I thought of the pizza waiting at the ship. It seemed callous, but I was so ready for this guy to hurry up and die.

  Movement caught the corner of my vision, turning my head toward the end of the hallway. A set of double doors with glass windows marked the entrance of the cancer ward, and for a moment, I thought the woman staring back at me was merely a reflection, with her dark hair and wide blue eyes. It wasn’t until her face registered with alarm and she dipped out of sight that I realized my mistake.

  Ruth.

  I was running down the hallway before my better judgment had a chance to catch up. Ruth Summerdale was one of the missing souls from the Three Fates Factory. I’d harvested her in the 1920s, and I’d only seen her in passing a handful of times since then, on the streets of Limbo City. She’d always stopped to say hello and catch up, as if we were old friends.

  There was no reason for her to run from me. But this thought didn’t enter my mind until I’d pushed past the double doors and paced up and down the adjacent corridor, searching every room along the way.

  Why had she fled?

  And where had she gone? There was no sign of her.

  I huffed in confused defeat and headed back toward my catch’s room. This day was getting weirder by the minute.

  As I reentered the cancer ward, I noted the absence of Teddy’s audible feasting. His nurse was seated behind the receptionist area with the clunky desk phone pressed against one ear. A tissue was clutched in her opposite hand, and she sniffled as she swiped it under her nose and over her tear-streaked cheeks.

  “His grandson was here this morning. Poor thing,” she whispered to the person on the other end of the line. “I better let you go. Dr. Gregson is on his way to call the official time.”

  So he was finally dead. My mood perked as I headed for Teddy’s room. I was ready to be out of there and back at the ship. I stopped suddenly, realizing what a bad idea that was. What if he remembered being able to see me? What if he said something about it in front of Kevin and Ellen? I could always take him straight to Naledi in the throne realm.

  Yeah, I thought, because that wouldn’t look suspicious at all.

  I was still trying to rationalize the best course of action when I reached the doorway of Teddy’s room and froze. His soul stood beside the bed, wrapped in a hospital gown that gaped in the back and exposed his withered rump. He blinked down at his discarded body with wiser eyes than he’d died with. But that wasn’t what had my heart bleating out an SOS.

  A reaper stood behind him. One I hadn’t seen in over a hundred years. One that I was certain had been dead for just as long.

  “Vince?” It was barely a whisper, but all I could manage.

  His head turned, dragging a long black braid over his shoulder and down his back. Dark gray eyes twinkled at me. My heart pinched and I couldn’t get my hands or feet to work.

  A devious smile curled up one side of Vince’s mouth as he gripped my harvest’s shoulder. And then he was gone. Taking my soul with him.

  Chapter 5

  “Reasoning with one who has abandoned reason is like giving medicine to a dead man.”

  —Thomas Paine

  I’d never wanted to slap someone so badly in my life. Jenni didn’t usually inspire that reaction from me. Sure, we’d had our moments. But for the most part, I felt as if I could trust her to do the right thing. And she knew me well enough to know that I wouldn’t make shit up for the fun of it.

  The most frustrating part was that I hadn’t even shared the worst of my news yet.

  “I know what I fucking saw,” I said for the third time. More like, shouted for the third time. I stopped pacing her office to slap my hands down on her desk, slightly mangling her abundance of pape
rwork in my fevered rage.

  Jenni cleared her throat and gave me a warning glare as she extracted a page from under my sweaty fingers. “I know what you think you saw, but it’s not possible. Vince is dead. No one’s seen him in well over a century. Why would he show up now? It doesn’t make sense, Lana.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Then how do you explain the soul disappearing?”

  Her brow furrowed skeptically as she turned away, and it felt like steam was coming out of my ears.

  “I’ve never had to report a catch CNH,” I said through clenched teeth.

  Jenni’s tone was more pity than malice. “And now you have two in one day.”

  I made a noise in the back of my throat, attempting to suppress my wrath. “That new secretary of yours screwed up the times on the dockets! Plus, that second soul was originally the Lost Souls Unit’s fault. For all we know, it might not have even showed.”

  I folded my arms and flopped down on one of the benches in front of her desk. They were a vast improvement over the stiff guest chairs Grim had preferred, but they weren’t very suitable for sulking in.

  For a brief second, I considered telling her about Ruth—maybe even Naledi’s botched procedure. But something told me that wouldn’t help my cause. If Jenni didn’t believe that I’d seen Vince, why would she believe anything else I had to say? She’d probably accuse me of grasping for straws, of making a desperate attempt to keep the Special Ops Unit active.

  I couldn’t help but wonder if she didn’t want to believe me. She was pulling the wool over her own eyes, refusing to hear anything that didn’t agree with her personal agenda. It was a Grim maneuver, and I couldn’t understand why she thought it would serve her any better than it had served him.

  Jenni avoided looking at me as she shuffled her paperwork into more tidy piles, leaving a wider section of empty desk up front, likely a precaution in case I had another outburst.

  “There were a few other scheduling errors today,” she said, as if it was no big deal and to be expected of a new secretary. “The CNH reports will be expunged as soon as the Lost Souls Unit gathers the missing harvests—”

  “Good luck getting that one back from Vince.” I snorted.

  Jenni stopped her shuffling to look up at me. “I don’t want to hear his name pass your lips again. Do you understand?” Her eyes bore into mine. “My position with the council is finally beginning to solidify, and I can’t have a bunch of bogus rumors shaking that fragile trust right now.”

  I was so frustrated, I felt like crying. I leaned forward, refusing to blink. She could play boss if she wanted, but this staring contest was mine. “And when they find out you’ve kept this information from them? How do you suppose that trust will fare then?”

  A knock at the door made us both jump.

  Maalik poked his head inside Jenni’s office. “I apologize for the intrusion, but your secretary has gone home for the day.” His eyes fell on me and he gave a curt nod. “Captain Harvey.”

  “Councilor.” I nodded back, deciding not to correct him. I might have been a captain on the books, but I hadn’t been one in the field for some time now.

  Jenni stood up from her desk. “Please, come in.” Her eyes darted to me with a threatening lilt. “We’re done here.”

  It took all my strength not to storm from Jenni’s office in a disgruntled huff. If not for Maalik’s presence, I probably would have. I grumbled under my breath as I stabbed a finger at the elevator button in the lobby. As soon as I’d climbed inside an empty car, I impatiently punched the button for the ground floor.

  I was so ready for this day to be over.

  My stomach ached, and I remembered that I’d missed lunch. By the time I had made it back to the ship after the hospital incident, Kevin and Ellen were ready to begin the afternoon harvests. There was no time to waste, since the new secretary’s timestamps couldn’t be trusted. As evident, yet again, by the second CNH soul I had to report that afternoon.

  The only upside to losing ol’ Teddy’s soul was that I didn’t have to worry about him outing me. Ellen was too frazzled over her training to bother asking about the strange outburst at the hospital, and Kevin was too busy making sure he didn’t end up with any CNHs to add to our growing pile.

  I saved my coin and walked the four blocks to the harbor rather than taking the travel booths. I needed to blow off some steam anyway, and the fall leaves soothed my sour mood. My heart felt lighter as I passed the city park, where the oldest and tallest trees canopied out over the hedge border that enclosed the quiet spot. I almost stopped to take a stroll through the memorial garden inside, but the hounds had been cooped up on the ship all day, so I continued on.

  The lanterns were glowing against the fading daylight when I made it to the harbor. A soft mist stirred against the sea wall, coating the dock and making the boards slippery. Another nephilim had taken Abe’s place at the entrance. This one didn’t acknowledge me. It was just as well. I was too tired for pleasantries.

  Most reaper ferries had returned for the evening, for which I was also thankful. Peace and quiet wouldn’t fix anything, but it definitely didn’t hurt. I hurried down the pier, shivering as a cool breeze lifted the hem of my robe and tugged at my hood.

  Saul’s bellow greeted me as I climbed the ramp to my ship, and he ran circles around me until I reached down to pet him.

  “About time,” Kevin said. He turned to finger the rigging knots. “Ellen went home—and thank goodness. She barfed up most of her pizza from lunch on our way to Heaven.” He paused to smirk. “She was so green, Peter moved us up the line faster than he ever has. He was probably worried she’d retch all over the pearly gates.”

  I gave him a tired smile, too engrossed in the funk of the day to summon a laugh. “I guess it’s a good thing we rescheduled our shopping trip for Wednesday.”

  Coreen skulked out of the center cabin and I patted my thigh to hurry her along. The helljacks trailed out after her, playing tug-of-war with one of Kevin’s sweatshirts.

  “Hey!” he hollered, chasing after them as they took off around the forecastle.

  The distraction worked in my favor. I wasn’t ready to answer the questions I was sure he had about the hospital.

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” I called out before heading down the ramp. Coreen and Saul followed close behind.

  When we reached the dock pier, I looked up at the ship and spied Kevin beyond the railing. The tight line of his mouth told me he knew why I was bailing so fast.

  I waved goodbye as I rolled my coin. The hellhounds, recognizing the gesture, flanked me and bumped their shoulders against the backs of my thighs. Then I watched as the value marks faded along the rim of my coin and we were cast into the bowels of Hell.

  Home sweet home.

  Chapter 6

  “Religion is for people who are scared to go to hell. Spirituality is for people who have already been there.”

  —Bonnie Raitt

  Tartarus was a constant hundred degrees. I imagined the heat would be more welcome once winter took hold in the city. Like being snuggled in a warm blanket the second I arrived at Beelzebub’s manor—at our manor. I was still getting used to the idea that this was my home too. The hounds had less trouble with the concept.

  As soon as we materialized on the much smaller dock at the estate’s perimeter, Saul turned to nip one of Coreen’s hind legs and then took off across the dusty plane that stretched between the house and the mountains in the distance. Coreen bounded after him, her tongue slipping happily from the side of her mouth. They loved the freedom out here, and their birthplace was a few miles south, where Hades and Persephone dwelled.

  I smiled after my hounds, deciding to let them play until dinner, and then headed up the rock steps that led to the front entrance. It was a longer walk than before, the new house being situated further away from the shore of the River Styx. The exterior lamps flickered on, lighting my way through the dusky pink hue of evening.

  The original manor
had been a combination of stone castle and log cabin, and while it had been beautiful, Bub had been eager to choose a different style and design. He’d waxed poetic about fresh starts and making the project a labor of love that included both of our visions, but I knew there was more to it than that. The number of enemies we’d both made in recent years inspired caution and a deep craving for security.

  The exterior of the manor was innocently decorative, stone accents scattered across stucco walls, but beneath the façade loomed a fortress of steel beams and thick, concrete walls. The sea of windows reflecting the fiery sky were crisscrossed with a web of fine titanium cables, and if the security system’s face-recognition software detected an unidentifiable guest approaching the property, retractable steel doors would slide out and seal the place up tighter than a nun’s habit.

  A black orb protruding from the ceiling of the porch made a soft noise as I finished my climb, and I heard the series of locks on the front door click open as I reached for the handle.

  Inside, the air conditioning was working overtime. The stone and stucco design spilled into the foyer, and several giant pots of ornamental grass gave the space an outdoorsy feel. Only the glossy gray hardwood gave away the room’s proximity to the rest of the house.

  I stripped out of my work robe and kicked off my boots, stuffing everything in a closet off the foyer. Then I padded through the dark sitting room, a lonely space we’d mostly ignored since moving in, and entered the kitchen.

  The floor plan was more open here, the dining area viewable over a semi-circular, marble counter that marked off the chef’s arena. Another sitting area, one that we’d actually broken in, finished off the rear of the house. French doors laced with more titanium cables and frosted glass opened onto a wide patio, and a circular staircase in the corner led up to the master suite and bath. There was a small office, a parlor, and a guest bedroom on the main floor too, but the loft was for us.