by Ching, G. P.
He nodded, staring at Hope with that worried expression on his face.
“Is something wrong, Cheveyo?”
The Hopi boy dropped the basket and plopped down on the end of the bed. “I haven’t been around many babies since I became a Soulkeeper. Well, actually I’ve never been around babies. If I’d grown up on the reservation, I would have. Everyone there takes care of everyone else’s baby. It’s a Hopi thing. I was raised by my Caucasian mom.”
“I remember.”
“Anyway, I don’t know much about babies.” He bobbed his head.
Malini met his dark brown eyes. He was staring at her with an intensity she’d rarely seen in his usually laid-back personality. Something was up. Either he had a confession to make or he was going to admit his undying love for her. She hoped it was the first.
“Cheveyo, are you procrastinating on the laundry or is there something you want to say to me?”
He sighed heavily and wiped his palms on his thighs. “It’s just, I don’t know if this is important or not. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s completely normal. I haven’t been a Soulkeeper that long, and I don’t want to freak anyone out over nothing.” He stopped short, toying with a loose thread on her bed covering.
Frustrated, Malini reached out and shook his arm. “Out with it.”
He leaned in, looking right, then left across the empty room. “Hope’s soul is different.”
Malini turtled her head back on her neck. “What do you mean?”
“I can sense souls. That’s my gig, you know. For example, yours is like this nice green haze around your body. I can’t actually see the color. It just feels green. Abigail was like a cool breeze. That’s how I found her in the kitchen in Lucifer’s penthouse. Every person’s soul is unique, but so far they’ve all had one thing in common.”
“What?”
“They are all slightly bigger than the person’s body.” He nodded and stared at her expectantly.
A strange foreboding frosted the tips of Malini’s fingers and toes. She moved Hope to her shoulder facing away from Cheveyo as if her tiny ears wouldn’t hear if her eyes couldn’t see. “Are you suggesting that there is something wrong with Hope’s soul?”
Cheveyo cringed. “Well, uh…” He reached for the laundry basket. “Like I said, I’m new. I could be wrong.”
“Wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. Tell me what you were going to say.” Malini forced her expression to stay neutral.
Tucking his long hair behind his ears, Cheveyo stared at the carpet. “Her soul is small for her body.” He pointed at a spot between her shoulder blades. “It just sort of hovers around her heart. I wasn’t going to say anything because I thought it was from being a baby, but then I noticed a change.”
“Change?”
“Yeah, like when she was first born it took up most of her torso, and now, it’s smaller. Or maybe her body has grown. I don’t know. I just thought it might have something to do with her being sick.”
Malini tipped Hope back into her lap, searching the baby girl’s face. She’d fallen asleep on her shoulder, and the precious bundle breathed peacefully in her arms. “Thank you for telling me, Cheveyo. I know that wasn’t easy for you. Like you say, it might be nothing. Maybe that’s how babies are. We’ll watch her and see.”
Cheveyo breathed a sigh of relief. “Cool. I knew you’d know what to do.” He popped off the bed and lifted the basket into his arms. With a short “see ya later,” he disappeared in the direction of the laundry room.
A tiny cough brought Malini’s gaze back to the rhythm of Hope’s breathing. The foreboding tingle hadn’t left her. In fact, it had spread, chilling her entire body. She prayed Cheveyo’s observation was a mistake, a harmless reality of her babyhood. If it wasn’t, he was wrong about one thing: Malini had no idea what to do about a problem with Hope’s soul.
Chapter 8
Busted
“Are you there?” Bonnie asked, scratching the back of her right hand. The brand itched terribly. It was an illusion, the same as Mr. Harold’s graying brown hair and wide shoulders. She hoped it was dry skin and not an omen of things to come.
A twinkle caught the corner of her eye in the early morning light. Cord whispered, “I am here.”
“I’m nervous. What if I didn’t get the symbol exactly right? I only saw it one time.”
“I’ll protect you.”
The caring in his voice made her turn away, fearful the hot creep up her neck might reveal how much the words meant to her. With a deep breath, she approached the store on the corner. They’d chosen this one, on the outskirts of the city, precisely because it was as far as possible away from the shop whose owner’s image she was wearing. The place was called Quik N Smart. She hoped she could be both today.
Hyperaware of Cord’s presence, she opened the door, trying not to jump at the bee-boop of the chime as she crossed the threshold. The place was empty. Good. She retrieved a cart. Milk, meat, cereal, canned goods. Quickly, she navigated the aisles. When the cart was overflowing from the haul, she took a deep breath.
“Here goes nothing,” she whispered and headed for the counter.
The woman behind the register gave her a tight smile as she approached. She was young and beautiful, dark like she might be Middle Eastern or southern European. Maybe both. She scratched her neck beneath her mass of dark waves. A nervous tic?
“Good morning,” Bonnie said in Harold’s deep baritone, praying the girl didn’t know the shop owner.
“I need to see your hand,” the woman said. Again with the scratching. She was nervous. Question was, about what? The plastic name tag on her shirt read Candace.
“Sure, Candace,” Bonnie said with a smile meant to put her at ease. Inside, her stomach twisted as she offered up the symbol.
“Yours looks new. Still red around the edges,” Candace said.
Working hard to remain calm, Bonnie nodded and began to unload the cart. Candace typed something into the computerized cash register, and then began to scan the items one by one. At first, Bonnie thought the woman must be new. She flipped each item multiple times before finding the code to scan, then bagged it carefully. Minutes ticked by. Bonnie glanced at her watch. Could anyone really be this slow?
A bead of sweat dripped from her hairline. Something was wrong. Her intuition was banging pots and pans together in her mental kitchen, yet the woman seemed perfectly calm behind the counter. Maybe Bonnie was just paranoid.
“That will be two hundred twenty-five dollars.”
Bonnie dug in her pocket for the cash Malini had given her, counted it quickly, and handed the wad to Candace. The woman slowly sorted the bills, turning and flattening them.
“You know, since Harrington added these tattoos to their protocol, you wouldn’t believe the number of people who come in here without one. It’s amazing what people will try to get away with. I mean, can you imagine the nerve?” She laughed nervously.
“I can imagine,” she murmured. A cold ripple traveled the length of Bonnie’s spine, clenching the muscles in her jaw as it flowed through her nervous system. The clamor of her intuition made her fingers twitch.
“Do you think it’s fair? I sold my soul for this brand, and the protection it gives me. That’s what it says in the small print. Lots of people don’t read the small print, but I did. When you get your brand, you swear to align yourself body, mind, and soul to Milton Blake and Harrington Enterprises. Seems odd for a corporation to ask for your soul, but this is the apocalypse.”
Bonnie reached for one of the grocery bags, but Candace knocked her hand away. “Why should someone else get to keep their soul and still eat?” She folded the money and slid it into her pocket.
“What are you doing?” Bonnie asked.
Candace snorted derisively. “Do you know how you can tell a brand isn’t real?”
Bonnie took a step backward, shaking her head.
The woman offered her right hand. A twisting length of blackness squirme
d beneath the skin of her mark, causing the symbol to warp and bubble under the light. “It started this morning. See the worm? These things are alive, now. It’s a fail-safe. Makes it easy to see who’s not playing for our team.”
Bonnie bolted for the door, but it was too late. Three huge men in police uniforms stood in the doorway.
Candace called out, “I was beginning to worry this one would leave before you got here.”
One of the men adjusted his cap. “Nice work, Candace.”
The second man pulled a nightstick from his belt and slapped his hand with it. “Sir, you need to come with us. Everyone is required to get the Harrington seal.”
“It only hurts for a moment,” the third one said. “You’ll hardly notice the pinch.”
The three men blocked the doorway, shoulder to shoulder. There was no way Bonnie could move around them. Her eyes flashed to the windows. Security bars. Damn. Frozen with fear, she shivered in Mr. Harold’s skin.
“Move. MOVE,” Cord shouted. A force yanked back her elbow and then an entire shelf of beauty products crashed to the floor between her and the men. Her muscles engaged, and she stumbled toward the back of the store. Cord formed at her side and pushed her toward a door. She opened it.
“Storeroom. No windows,” she said. The rattle and crash of the men climbing over the fallen shelves caused her heart to hammer behind her breastbone.
“This way.” Cord corralled her into the filthy confines of the men’s room, locking the door behind him and pointing at a small window near the ceiling. “Out.”
The policemen banged on the door, shouting warnings and threats through the barrier, and then the metal on metal of someone inserting a key in the lock caused a new kind of fear to bloom in her chest.
“Now, Bonnie.” Cord punched through the window and propelled her through the jagged hole. She belly crawled into the alley behind the store, glass scraping the front of her body.
“Where do you think you’re going?” said a voice from the shadows. Holy hell, a Watcher. The demon was huge, twice the size of an ordinary Watcher and with an attitude that was almost palpable. He stood in the shadows, large and dark, with a silk shirt and gaudy rings on his fingers. “I can smell you a mile away, Soulkeeper.”
Cord materialized beside her. The Watcher’s eyes widened at the sight of the angel, and he hissed like an animal. With both hands, Cord pushed Bonnie toward the street.
The Watcher attacked. Smack. Angel and demon collided in a shower of sparks. Smoke billowed from the places of contact: hands, chest, and the side of one leg. Cord groaned, and the smell of burning flesh filled the small space.
“What are you waiting for? Run,” Cord commanded.
The Watcher’s illusion broke as the struggle moved into daylight, but even in shadow there was no way anyone would mistake the two in the alley as human. The fight was too fast. Too brutal.
Bonnie backed toward the street slowly, wondering if she should help Cord. His eyes met hers. Cord lowered his shoulder and barreled into the Watcher again. “Run!”
This time, she obeyed.
The journey home was a blur, but Bonnie finally tumbled into Sanctuary, huffing from the run. “Help. You’ve got to help,” she insisted. A cold breeze blew through the room from behind her.
“Is the door open?” Malini asked, staring up the stairwell. “What happened?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. It’s Cord.” Bonnie braced herself on her knees.
“Dane, go lock up,” Malini ordered. He nodded and bound up the stairs.
“Please,” Bonnie rasped. “There’s no time. He’ll kill him.”
Malini placed an arm around Bonnie’s shoulders, infusing her with healing warmth as the other Soulkeepers circled them. Samantha leaned worriedly over her sister. “What happened?”
“The brand won’t work. The real brand … is alive. It moves. When we tried to use this—” Bonnie rubbed the back of her hand. “—we were caught. The police came and then a Watcher attacked us. Not just a Watcher … he was huge—some kind of mega-watcher or something. I only got away because of Cord.”
“Where is Cord now?”
“Fighting the Watcher in the alley behind Quik N Smart. We have to help him.”
Malini hugged Bonnie’s shoulders. “Sam, come help your sister shift back into herself. Bonnie, don’t worry; we’ll help Cord.”
Samantha reached for Bonnie’s fingers. The change came quickly, but it did nothing to improve Bonnie’s distraught state.
“Please, help him,” Bonnie said again.
“No need.” Cord formed in the middle of the room, under the brightest lightbulb in Sanctuary. Silver-white blood dripped from a swollen wound on his face, and one wing hung limply from his back. He collapsed on the nearest bed, which buckled under his weight.
“Easy,” Jacob said, obviously recognizing it was his bunk. Malini quieted him with a glare.
Bonnie rushed to Cord’s side, and Malini followed.
“I don’t think I can heal you,” Malini said. “It doesn’t work on angels.”
“Don’t concern yourself. I’ll heal myself in time.”
“But how did you get away?” Bonnie asked. “When I left, the Watcher had the upper hand.”
Cord’s head rolled to the side so he could see her better. “Once I knew you were safe, I broke away and dissolved into the light. He couldn’t follow. Watchers travel through shadow.”
Bonnie sighed, dropping onto the floor next to the bed.
“We’re glad you made it out alive,” Malini said.
Cord pushed himself into a seated position and wiped some silver blood out from under his eye. “I am worried for you,” he said, eyes falling on each of them and then lingering on Bonnie. “I know the Watcher who attacked Bonnie and me. He’s not a typical Watcher, and he never works alone. He’s one of the Wicked Brethren.”
“The Wicked Brethren?” Malini asked. “Who are the Wicked Brethren?”
Propping himself up on his elbows, he searched Malini’s face and then Bonnie’s. “You’ve never heard of the Wicked Brethren?”
Malini shook her head.
“Very well, gather around and I will tell you the story.”
As it was the middle of the day and Father Raymond and Ghost were back from their latest supply run, the Soulkeepers and Hope, on Grace’s shoulder, circled Cord. When the sounds of shuffling died down, the Watcher turned angel began to speak.
“In the beginning, before the garden, before Adam and Eve, all angels lived to serve God. Time is irrelevant in Heaven, but there is space and all of God’s creation has order and duty. Lucifer was one of seven powerful and stunning brothers, the light of Heaven in many ways. They were as close to God as any of us.
“When God decided to make man in his own image, it became clear to us he meant for humans to hold a special place in Heaven. Angels would become the servants of this new creation. Some angels accepted God’s will without a second thought, but Lucifer and his six brothers began to talk about the unfairness of it. Angels, as the more powerful beings, should be above men, and, in fact, Lucifer often wondered why he couldn’t be above God. He and his brothers began to plan a coup against God.
“All knowing, God intercepted Lucifer’s attempt and gave the archangel Michael authority to cast him and his brethren out. Michael tossed the seven Wicked Brethren from the edge of Heaven, Lucifer and his brothers.”
“The Devil had brothers?” Ethan asked.
“Not brothers in the sense of human brothers. Angels don’t have sex and don’t have babies, but they do have family groups. I digress. The seven Wicked Brethren were cursed to be the vessels of the seven deadly sins. Pride, lust, wrath, gluttony, sloth, envy, and greed. All of their selfish wickedness multiplied exponentially upon their fall and populated their seven bodies with these vices.”
“Wait, what about the other Watchers?” Jacob asked.
“About a third of the angels followed Lucifer over the edge. These became his Watchers
, less powerful copycats of the brethren. He lured them into his kingdom with the promise of power, but instead, he made them slaves.”
Malini cleared her throat. “So there were seven Devils? How did Lucifer become the Devil?”
“As I was saying, each of the seven Wicked Brethren took on one of the seven deadly sins. Lucifer’s vice was pride. He truly believed he was as good as God and that sin, that vanity, defined him. His brother, Satan, took on the vice of wrath.”
Ethan flinched. “Wait, Lucifer and Satan aren’t the same person?”
Cord lowered his chin. “They are now. Within moments of reaching Earth, Satan, consumed with anger, challenged Lucifer’s supremacy. Lucifer won the battle and ingested Satan, taking on his vice.”
A collective ewww rose up from the group.
“Pride and wrath, an exceptionally evil combination,” Lillian said.
“Yes, and a deadly one,” Cord agreed. “Another brother, Belphegor, was embodied by sloth. He fell asleep watching the battle between Lucifer and Satan, and rumor has it, has never awakened. His sleeping form was long ago swallowed by the Earth.”
Grace adjusted herself in her chair and huffed skeptically. “Pure poppycock. There is plenty of laziness to go around today.”
“Oh, the seven Devils are not the source of sin, Grace, simply slaves to it. The sin is a curse they carry, and while it is true they tempt humans with their sin of choice, if you kill the demon, the sin remains.”
Bonnie leaned her face into her hand. “What about the rest of them?”
“Beelzebub embodied gluttony. He was killed in the Middle Ages by a band of Huns who didn’t appreciate his rabid consumption of their sheep. They were able to behead him in battle. One of the only successful demon killings by humans.”
“So is Lucifer the only brother left alive?” Ghost asked.
“Unfortunately, no. Mammon, the embodiment of greed, has done well for himself over the years. Last I heard, he was living in a castle in Romania and was worth close to one billion dollars.”
“You mean he has been here the entire time? I thought all Watchers lived in Nod?” Malini asked.
“Most Watchers moved to Nod after the flood. God made it difficult for them to stay above ground. The sun caused them pain and drained their powers. However, Mammon was quite cunning and took up residence in the dark forests of Europe, where he was able to survive with the remaining brothers, rarely seeing the sun. His brother Asmodeus, vice of choice lust, was active among humans until the time of Noah when his, um, lustful wings were clipped. He moved in with Mammon after that incident, as did Leviathan, the demon of envy. The three remaining Wicked Brethren never fully accepted Lucifer’s leadership. They went rogue, living among men and becoming more powerful over the centuries. They’ve changed their names over time to blend in. Mammon is now Damien Bordeaux—”
