The Soulkeepers Series, Part Two (Books 4-6)

by Ching, G. P.

  “Not to me.”

  Bonnie threw the rag into the sink and turned the full force of her stare on him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Tell me what you think is different about us,” she snapped. She leaned back against the sink. She couldn’t wait to hear what kind of bullshit he came up with next.

  He snaked his fingers through the steel grate and blinked at her. “There’s the obvious. The mole. Yours is on the right and hers is on the left.”

  Observant. Bonnie frowned.

  “Then there’s the less obvious. You make larger gestures when you speak, and you speak louder. It’s almost as if you want people to know you are different from your sister. Samantha, on the other hand, speaks softly, if ever, and pins her elbows to her sides. She’s happy to blend in and go along. Nothing like you, Bonnie.”

  Bonnie’s mouth dropped open slightly. She closed it.

  “And your voice today, when you sang, held more pain than hers. You’ve been through more. Even if you’ve experienced the same losses, for some reason you felt them more fully.”

  She laughed incredulously. “Really. Which verse did I sing?”

  He shook his head. “You alternated. You sang the first line and Samantha sang the second, and so on. You both sang the refrain.”

  Now her mouth really did fall open. Cord was locked in the pantry during their performance. He couldn’t have seen her sing, which meant he’d actually differentiated her voice.

  “Am I wrong?” he asked.

  She took a deep breath and blew it out before answering. “No.”

  “You are beautiful,” he murmured. “Almost magical. I changed when I saw you. Everything about me changed.”

  Seething, she placed her hands on her hips. “You are not beautiful, Cord,” she stated clearly. “You are a killer. You came here to kill me, and you’ve killed before. How dare you come here and try to what? Ply me with flattery? I hate you. I hate everything about you. You and Lucifer and the rest of the Watchers, are liars and cheaters. Just because we haven’t figured out your game yet, don’t think for a second I don’t know you are playing one.”

  Cord’s eyes widened, and he backed away from the door. He sank to the floor at the back of the pantry and wrapped his wings around himself.

  Skin hot and heart pounding, Bonnie resumed her cleaning. With clenched teeth, she threw her back into it, until the scrubbing became an aerobic activity, and her mind blanked with the effort. When the counters were done, she moved to the floors. When the floors were done, she moved to the walls. For hours, she worked, until her hands and knees were raw from the effort.

  She jumped when the door swung open and Samantha poked her head in. “Bonnie, we need you. Malini’s called a meeting.” Her sister looked around the spotless kitchen and raised an eyebrow. “Good job. Sparkly.”

  “Thanks.” Bonnie watched Samantha’s retreat, noticing as the door swung closed how her sister kept her elbows close to her sides and her soft words had floated into the room barely above a whisper. She hated that Cord was right. Violently, she rinsed out her supplies and stored them under the sink before pausing in the doorway. Against her better judgment, she glanced toward the pantry. He was staring at her, looking hungry and vulnerable. She scowled and let the door close behind her.

  A circle of chairs waited for Bonnie in the main room. She took a seat between Samantha and Dane, apologizing for being the last one there. Malini was quick to dismiss her apology. Her small brown hands circled nervously, palms rubbing in front of her body. Bonnie noticed she’d trimmed her hair again. Her bangs had grown out to chin length, and she’d had someone cut the back shorter than the front. The effect was badass. Tonight, Malini didn’t look the part of nurturing Healer. She looked like someone who was about to lay down the law.

  “Today, we lost two friends, Helpers and Soulkeepers. We’ve said our goodbyes. Now we’ve got to move on,” Malini began.

  Bonnie heard her mother gasp at the blunt words.

  “We are at war. Earth is occupied by Watchers. Lucifer has found a way to protect the humans who align themselves to him and kill the ones who don’t. And he has probably sent Cord—” She pointed at the kitchen. “—to spy on our operation.”

  Malini shifted her weight from foot to foot. “We can’t lose anyone else. I can’t lose any of you, not personally or otherwise. We have to protect each other.”

  Ethan coughed. “Sorry, but isn’t that what we’ve been doing? We’ve always protected each other.”

  Malini shook her head. “We need to be more careful. More deliberate.”

  Bonnie straightened in her seat. “You mean we need to be like…an army. More organized.”

  Malini nodded. “Exactly, Bonnie. A mission-by-mission approach was fine before, when Watchers rarely appeared above ground and tried to hide the people they killed. But the world has changed. Now Lucifer wants his Watchers to be seen. We are soldiers for God. If the Watchers fight every day, we have to fight every day. And that means rules, a schedule, expectations.”

  “Rules,” Ghost said. “What kind of rules are you thinking?”

  “First, no one goes out alone. We go out in threes or not at all.”

  “Why three?” Samantha asked.

  “If one of you is attacked, another can attempt a rescue while the third calls for backup.”

  Heads nodded in agreement.

  Malini continued, “We’ll create a rotation. Dane, when it’s your turn to fight, you will borrow a power from the last team on rotation.”

  Cheveyo shifted in his seat. “We’re sending Dane out regularly? What if he dies in the field? We’ll lose two Soulkeepers instead of one.”

  Malini glared at him. “Then I guess he can’t die. Stay alive, Dane.”

  Grinning, Dane bobbed his head, but Ethan’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t the only Soulkeeper looking uncomfortable. Ghost fidgeted with a torn section of upholstery on the bottom of his chair, Jacob’s pale face froze like a mask, and Grace looked like she might be sick.

  “What about the expectations? You said we’d have expectations,” Bonnie said.

  Malini nodded her head. “Each team will have a quota.” A murmur rose up from the group. “We are not simply defending ourselves. We are waging a counterattack. Lucifer cannot make more Watchers, which means that every one we kill is one less out there to harm a human. We will start with three per night and adjust from there based on our experiences.”

  Bonnie noticed Samantha mouth three to Ghost, looking quite shaken. Whispers floated up around her. Shock, worry, and even distrust played across the other Soulkeepers faces. Well, they all had something to lose. She didn’t.

  “When do we start? I want to go first,” Bonnie said. Samantha’s glare cut her like stabbing daggers.

  Malini smiled. “We start tonight, Bonnie, and I’ll take your volunteering under consideration.” She looked at Samantha pointedly.

  “One more thing,” Bonnie said, regaining Malini’s attention. “Can we kill Cord? If we think he’s a spy, we’re better off with him dead. I volunteer to do it.”

  “Yeah,” Cheveyo said. “I’m completely freaked out having that thing in the next room.”

  As Malini pondered the question, she paced the space inside the circle of chairs, seeming to go somewhere else for a moment. Her eyes took on the spacey sheen of a daydreamer, and her stare seemed to favor the wall. “I need to think about that.”

  Didn’t she know how important this was? Bonnie stood up, knocking her chair over. “What’s to think about? We have a ticking time bomb locked up in the pantry,” she yelled. “He came here to kill us. He was going to start with me and Hope.” Bonnie pointed an open hand toward Lillian, who bounced the baby on her shoulder.

  “He bleeds like an angel,” Malini said softly.

  “Yeah, he does. So what does that mean? You’re the Healer. Can a fallen angel unfall? Can a Watcher become an angel again? Did God do it? Did I?” She began to tremble. “It doesn’t make sense. It’s a trap. I k
now it.”

  “My decision is to keep him alive, for now,” Malini said firmly.

  Bonnie turned her face away, scowling. “I should have killed him when I had the chance.”

  Malini crossed the circle and pulled Bonnie into a hug. Warmth flowed through her causing the tension to bleed from her neck and shoulders. When the Healer backed away, Bonnie expected her to agree to kill the Watcher in disguise, that the hug was a peace offering.

  Instead, Malini turned to the others. “For now, we will keep Cord alive and imprisoned. My instincts tell me he could serve a purpose for us in the future.”

  “What?” Bonnie said, hands slapping her sides. “Are you kidding me?”

  Malini raised a finger, pointing at Bonnie’s face. “Stand down, Bonnie. If Cord truly has changed, he’ll help us. He’ll tell us about Lucifer’s plans. If he hasn’t changed, we may be able to use him to get false information back to Lucifer. One thing I know for sure, he’s useless dead.”

  Bonnie felt violated. How could Malini not see that keeping either an angel or a Watcher locked up in a pantry was a recipe for disaster?

  Malini didn’t argue the point but moved on to the next one. “Watcher activity is greater at night. That’s when we’ll patrol. During the day, we’ll obtain food and supplies. We’ll take turns watching Hope.” She turned a circle, making eye contact with each of the Soulkeepers.

  Bonnie wasn’t sure what the Healer was looking for. Everyone was antsy and restless, even the adults. If she wanted reassurance, she wasn’t going to get it.

  “Lillian, Jacob, and I will take the first patrol tonight.”

  When Bonnie began to protest, Malini held up her hand. “I know you volunteered, Bonnie, but I need to get the lay of the land.”

  Bonnie shifted sideways and rolled her eyes.

  Malini stepped in front of her, a hard look on her face. “There is something I need your help with.”

  “What?” Bonnie asked defensively.

  “I need you to feed the angel,” Malini said.

  Bonnie kicked her fallen chair and stormed off toward the bathroom.

  Chapter 34

  The Scorekeeper

  Malini arrived in the In Between gracefully, a ballet dancer landing a giant leap. She’d been shredded her last several times coming over, distracted by Lucifer, the war, problems with the Soulkeepers. But today, she had a singular focus. The apocalypse had toughened her. No longer the meek teenager who jumped at her own reflection, the power and responsibility that used to scare her, now motivated her. When she watched Abigail die, something inside of her shifted. A holy rage blossomed, a contained wildfire for truth and justice. With a tight grip, she held the feeling, strengthening it in the kiln of her resolve. The hot ember fueled her hurried steps.

  “Welcome, Malini,” Fate said.

  On the veranda of her stucco villa, Fate sat at a table with Time and Death. Malini gave them a tight smile. Mara and Henry would always be more human to her than Fatima. Maybe because she could clearly picture them dancing at prom. That night seemed so far away now. It was hard to believe it was less than a year ago. A year since she could almost call her life normal. Now, what was normal?

  “Am I in time for tea?” Malini said, staring at the pot and cups on the table.

  “A celebration of life, Gideon and Abigail’s,” Fatima said. From her abdomen, she produced a brightly colored cloth made of raspberry, turquoise, green, and black thread.

  Mara gave a little wave of her hand in lieu of a hello. “Lucifer stole Abigail’s thread, but Fatima wove a tapestry from all of the lives she helped. Gideon’s thread is part of the green.”

  “I got the idea after we followed Lucifer’s missing thread.” Fatima held out the tapestry to her.

  Malini ran her fingers over the glinting material. “Gorgeous. A masterpiece.”

  Henry nodded. “We thought so too. We loved both of them.”

  For a moment, Malini wondered why they had excluded Master Lee, but then they’d never really known him, not like Gideon and Abigail. As former angels, the immortals had known the two for thousands of years. Immortal before mortal. No two people had ever lived a life like Abigail and Gideon.

  A brown face popped up beyond the stucco border of the veranda. “Hi, Wisnu,” Malini said to the mongoose. The animal gave a high-pitched bark and returned to playing in the yard, trotting out to the edge of the forest beyond.

  “Would you like a cup?” Fatima pointed to the teapot.

  “I’m not here for the tea,” Malini said. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but I can’t partake in the pleasantries while my team is fighting for their lives against the apocalypse.”

  “The apocalypse?” Mara asked. “You’re calling the challenge the apocalypse?”

  Malini’s hands balled into fists. “How dare you sit up here drinking tea and ask me that question?” She glared at Mara, not even flinching at the girl’s black eyes or the way the universe revolved inside of them. “Don’t you think it’s fitting? The veil has lifted. The Watchers occupy Earth openly. They kill openly. Everything has changed, Mara. This is the end, the final battle between good and evil, and we’re losing. Everything. You must know how desperate it is down there.”

  Mara glanced away, but Henry angrily stood from the table. “It’s hard for her, Malini. She sees the past, present, and future all at the same time. Mara doesn’t mean to be harsh. She has to concentrate to focus on the pinpoint that is your existence.”

  “I understand but—”

  “You’re not losing,” Mara blurted. Her eyes waxed vacant, staring off into the distance, toward the hill with the scorekeeper.

  “What do you mean? We just lost two of the most important people in the fight.”

  “The Lord has given the third gift. You just don’t realize you have it yet. A weapon, a Helper, is in your presence with the power to change everything. The fate of many is tied to the fates of few. Only one can cure the many, but many will deliver the cure to all.”

  Malini scowled. “I have no idea what you just said.”

  Mara turned to face her, looking as strange and otherworldly as Malini had ever seen her.

  “Wait, do you mean Cord? Is he the answer?”

  “Cord?” Fatima spat in disgust. “The Watcher?”

  “We’ve captured him. He came to kill us and now bleeds white, smells like an angel, and has feathers that stay feathers when they fall off. He says he was transformed.”

  “Impossible!” Fatima shook her head.

  Malini shrugged. “It is what it is. We haven’t been able to figure him out.”

  “Cord is not the gift. Cord is your key to understanding the gift. The gift is not a thing or a person. It isn’t material. It can’t die or be used up.”

  “What is it, Mara?” Malini asked.

  “Hope.”

  “The baby, Hope?”

  Mara stared off into the distance, squinting and then closing her eyes with the effort. “Hope is the bringer of the virtue she is named for. The baby is a symbol, but the gift is so much more. The gift is hope. The gift is knowledge that God is far from finished. Believe it, Malini.”

  Henry shivered. “She has the gene.”

  “Huh?” Malini placed her hands on her hips. Talking to immortals could be so frustrating.

  “Hope. Gideon and Abigail drank the water. They lived in Eden for months. Recreated human by God, their bodies carried the recessive gene. Their daughter, Hope, now carries the Soulkeeper gene. I can feel her soul right now. She’s special.”

  “Special how?”

  “No way to tell. Like all Soulkeepers, she must be challenged, and she must make the choice, but all of the potential is there,” Fatima said.

  Mara squinted. “I can’t sort out her future. I’m blind to it.”

  Fatima cleared her throat. “Of course you are blind. The challenge is changing the fabric of our power. The thread I use is shifty between my fingers. Colors change in the midst of my weaving.
None of us can see the outcome. The closer we are to the destination, the less we can see the path.”

  “And what about Cord? Can we trust him?” Malini asked.

  Fatima lowered her eyes. “No human soul, no thread. We could follow him, as we did Lucifer, by the emptiness he’s left behind. However, if he has changed by some miracle, what would be the point? We would only see the future of the Watcher named Cord, not the angel he claims he’s become.”

  “Great.” Malini tossed her clasped hands over her head and squeezed her ears with the insides of her arms. “Ugh. It’s so frustrating.”

  Mara stood and tugged Henry to his feet. “Come, Malini, you need to see the results of your effort.”

  Malini followed her and Henry onto the lawn, Fatima joining them at the base of the hill. The horizon folded, and without taking another step, Malini found herself at the feet of the scorekeeper. The blindfolded angel loomed over her, frozen in her marble shell, wings outstretched.

  Disbelieving, Malini stared at the scales in her hand. One tray was white, the good side; the other was black, Lucifer’s. At the start of this challenge, before any temptations or gifts were cast, the scales were tipped in Lucifer’s favor. The evil inherent in human hearts seemed to weigh the darker side down unfairly. Now, somehow, the tide had shifted. God was winning. It wasn’t by much. The dark side was only slightly higher than the light, hardly noticeable, but it was true.

  “For the first time since the beginning of the challenge,” Henry said. “We can’t explain it. Circumstances on Earth seem at their worst, but the scales say otherwise.”

  Malini tipped her head. “I think you are onto something. Human hearts rise to the occasion. Maybe we are at our best when things are at their worst?”

  Fatima crossed her arms. “I’ve seen humans at their worst when things were at their worst. Do you want me to show you?”

  Malini held up both hands. “No. I want you to let me bask in the hope that today things are different. Today, people everywhere are changing. They are helping each other. They are asking questions and rejecting the devil’s false gifts.” She stared into the orb, watching black and white lights dance through the crystal.