by Thomas Grave
He lifted her up and blinked.
Wednesday, 3:17 am (Purgatorium)
As Michael’s destructive power faded, Purgatorium began to rebuild itself. Every Soul was in its haunt, awaiting the city’s completion. A portion of the street had been completed, as decrepit and strange as it had been before the explosion, but for miles around it, there was only the vast darkness of the void.
In a darkened corner of the road, a streetlight flicked on, humming. It faded out, then popped on again, bringing Mr. Zombie with it. He stalked forward, tossing his lit cigarette on the ground.
“Nasty little things,” he muttered.
He stopped in the center of the street, surveying all the damage. The entire block was in ruins, the sky as dark as ever. He scanned the rubble at his feet, searching for something.
“Come on, where are you?”
He closed his brown eyes and took a deep breath. His eyes shot open, now a striking violet. They shimmered in the dim light.
“There we go,” he said, walking toward a pile of broken concrete.
He held his palm out toward it. “Come.”
From the rubble, a beat up messenger bag shot to his hand. He gripped it tight then tore it open. Reaching inside, he found exactly what he wanted.
The snow globe.
“Perfect,” he said, as he walked back to the streetlight.
He pointed at it.
“Pop,” he said as the light burst, flooding the section of the road in darkness, “. . . goes the weasel.”
Wednesday, 4:01 am
Mr. Thompson had been sitting in his San Marino Blue M6 BMW for the past couple of hours. He’d retrieved it from the cemetery after Imogen left. Four in the morning was probably the darkest hour of the night. He kept one eye fixed on Sebastian’s house, waiting for the boy to return home from wherever he’d been. He’d decided to lay all his cards on the table and tell Sebastian everything. Except for the stuff about Paige. He didn’t need to know about that. That subject was blacklisted from Sebastian’s knowledge.
Caroline’s car wasn’t in the driveway and that was good. The last thing he wanted was any type of discussion with her. Their last conversation ended very badly. He’d thought she was going to pull out her gun and shoot him.
He couldn’t stop wondering where Sebastian had been. He found it odd that Sebastian hadn’t been home. It was a school night, the only logical explanation was that Sebastian had been on a job; something Mr. Thompson was all too familiar with. He sat, comfortable, reading on his Kindle.
He was halfway through The Writings of Kahlil Gibran. The thing about being alive for hundreds of years was it gave one a lot of time to read. He’d finished most of the British authors worth their salt, and most of the American ones. He’d gone through Confucius and most of the philosophers from the Far East, and now he was working on those of the Middle East. He never would have imagined, when Death had found him in that alleyway, that he would ever be interested in philosophy, but learning the truth about the universe had a way of making a man question, and search for answers.
He turned his gaze up when he felt an incoming blink.
Wait, there were two. Sebastian stood in his room, but he had somebody with him.
Who in the world could that be?
Mr. Thompson’s first instinct was to blink into Sebastian’s room, but he didn’t think that would go over well.
He opened his car door and stepped to Sebastian’s window.
“Sebastian,” he yelled in a hushed whisper. Oh, this just didn’t seem appropriate. Here he was, standing outside one of his students’ windows trying to get his attention. He could lose his teaching job for this, for heaven’s sake.
“Sebastian!” he yelled again, a little louder.
He glanced around on the ground and saw a large rock. He considered for a moment throwing it at the window, but he decided that might not go over well either.
“Mr. Thompson?” he heard Sebastian call, his nostrils flared and his mouth compressed into a thin line.
Great, now he’s angry. That was bad, because he was going to need Sebastian’s absolute trust. This was exactly the opposite of what he wanted. He was going to have to do something, fast.
“I’m coming up!” Mr. Thompson called.
“What?” Sebastian said, shaking his head vigorously. “Have you lost your mind?”
Mr. Thompson blinked and appeared behind Sebastian.
Sebastian spun around and reared back with his scythe.
Knowing it was coming, Mr. Thompson ripped down his own scythe, parrying. The blades clashed and red lightning glimmered off the touching blades.
Sebastian blinked. “Sorry, that was a reflex—you can blink? And you have a scythe?”
“I told you, we need to talk,” Mr. Thompson said, with an edge in his voice.
Sebastian withdrew his weapon. “You have five minutes.”
“You don’t have to call me Mr. Thompson,” he said. “Please, call me Cole.”
1514AD
Dark clouds rolled through the sky with a thunderous entrance as another storm came in. Fat raindrops splashed on the already muddy roads. An older couple ran past the alley, their heads bowed in an attempt to keep the rain off their faces. The hammering rain masked the choking sounds from the street.
Sebastian would often describe choking as nothing more than overactive gagging. There he stood holding Cole by the neck, his feet dangling in the air. With Sebastian’s hand around his throat, he moved Cole’s head left, then right, thoroughly inspecting him.
“I don’t get it. There is nothing special about you at all,” Sebastian said with a sneer.
“Gaaaagggghhh,” Cole gagged.
With a flick of his wrist, Sebastian tossed Cole onto the ground. He landed hard, his back arching from the pain.
“Spill your guts, before I do it for you. You know something.”
Cole spit out hard, raspy coughs before gasping sharply for air.
Sebastian glared at him with hard, focused eyes. “What makes you so different?”
“I—I don—don’t know wh—what that means,” Cole sputtered, purplish bruises forming on his neck from Sebastian’s hand.
Sebastian took his time walking around the terrified man, stalking him. “You are not in my book. And that’s impossible.”
“I—I don’t understand.” He considered crawling away, but he didn’t want more pain. Cole thought maybe the best course of action would be to just cower on the ground. Sebastian continued walking casually around him. Black mist slowly appeared in his hand, gradually becoming a large and ancient book. A moment later, he squatted on one knee.
“Are you afraid?” Sebastian asked, his voice low and colder than the rain.
“Ye—yes.”
“Good.”
Rising to his feet, the same black mist wrapped around Sebastian. A moment later, the mist evaporated, taking Sebastian with it. “I’ll be watching you,” his voice rang out in the darkness. “And trust me, that’s not something you want.”
Later that night . . .
The heavy oak door of the tavern opened as she made her way in. Her long blonde hair bounced softly as she moved, gold highlights glinting in the torchlight. She wore white leather pants and a matching duster, both impossibly clean considering the muddy roads. Underneath the duster, she wore a white silk shirt with a bow collar. Around her neck hung a silver necklace with five small diamonds. Her brown eyes and pale skin were luminescent, shining as if from a light greater than the light within the room.
She walked past several patrons. All paid the beautiful woman no mind, one man even stepping out of her way without looking at her. She saw Sebastian, sitting on a large wooden stump used as a barstool. Judging by the expression on his face, she could tell he was in a foul mood.
“Seat taken?” she asked.
His face lit with a warm smile when he saw her. “Ariel. My favorite Archangel!”
She returned the smile. “Death.”
“Yes. I do this from time to time,” she said, shrugging nonchalantly.
Ariel took a seat on the wooden stump next to him and scanned the area. “Interesting place for you to be.”
“I’m working,” he told her, glancing over her shoulder.
She considered looking at the Soul that he was here to collect, but it was time for her to get to business and do the job she was to do. “I have a message for you.”
He took a drink from the mug in front of him.
“What message?” he asked, placing the mug on the bar.
She put her hand on top of his arm.
His dark brown eyes glowed burning white for an instant.
His face fell.
“No,” he murmured. “Not that. Anything but . . .”
The sad look on her face told him everything without her saying a word.
“So, what? That’s it?” he asked, grimacing. “No thank you? No job well done? After how many millennia?”
She knew no words could be found without getting into an argument. She got up and turned to leave.
“What about us?” he called out after her.
That question stopped her dead in her tracks. With a wistful sigh, she turned to face him. “I will always love you. Nothing can change that.”
She placed her hand on his face. “But, you’ve changed so much. I think it started with your mission in Egypt. The tenth plague with the first-borns? Your great light has dimmed, darkened with an icy fury. You’re walking a different path, and I cannot follow.”
He stood abruptly, pulling away from her. “They were just kids! Children! I murdered, I—I murdered . . .” His breath coming out ragged. “Why would He . . .”
Ariel lowered her gaze, her hair falling to shadow her face. The murmur of the crowd around them filled the silence. Sebastian took deep breaths, settling into the sounds of life and laughter.
“When you are reborn,” she said, “I will be there for you.”
Sebastian stared at her. “So, what? That’s it?”
“It is what it needs to be.”
“Oh, no you don’t. You don’t get to act casual. Like there is nothing between us. Not with me.”
Ariel bit her lip. “I am not acting casual. But we don’t know how long this could last.”
“When has time ever mattered for us?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean then?”
Ariel sighed. “Let’s not fight on your last day here.” She took his hand and placed it on her chest, directly above her heart. In turn, she placed her hand on his. “You know how I feel about you.”
“I do,” he replied.
“Then you will find me when you awake if it’s truly meant to be. I will wait for you.”
“So your concern is that I’ll forget you? And you want to distance yourself from me?”
Ariel did not reply, only cast her gaze downward.
“Nothing can ever make me forget you. No power on earth, in the heavens, in all the realms can make me,” he said softly, brushing a strand of fallen hair out of her face.
“You can’t be sure of that.”
Sebastian gave her a confident smile and stepped toward her. “I am.” He leaned in close, his hot breath on her ear. “Obviously you have forgotten who I am.” He kissed her cheek gently. “Allow me to educate you.” He grazed her cheek with his lips, making his way to her mouth. She smiled softly as he kissed her, gently at first, then more insistently. She leaned into him, pressing against him.
He pulled away, inhaling deeply, the taste of her on his lips, the scent of her lingering in the air. She opened her eyes slowly, a deep heat smoldering in them. He smiled at the sight of her. “Like I said, I won’t forget.”
She returned his smile. “Till we meet again.”
He closed his eyes. When he opened them, she was gone. He turned away from the empty space and noticed Cole sitting on a barstool at the opposite end of the bar.
Cole had always thought The Three Legged Dog felt a lot larger on the inside than it looked on the outside, but tonight it was packed. The locals danced about, getting drunk as usual, carousing, being obnoxious. He was thankful for the bad lighting, and wore a dark brown cloak with a thick hood to further keep hidden. The hood almost covered his face, making it easier not to be noticed. Not by anyone, and certainly not by Taniel, Gavin’s boss.
Cole knew he should be gone, that they’d chase him again, but he had to be near her. Something about her presence comforted him.
He hadn’t expected the place to be full. The celebration he’d seen earlier had to be continuing in this tavern. He had no idea what the townspeople were celebrating and he didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was getting a glimpse of her, and the drink in front of him. He had a faint hope, however illogical, that getting drunk might help him make sense of what had happened earlier, of the strange boy who’d saved him from the thugs and then beat him bloody.
He looked around. No doubt she was working, slaving for these dirty ruffians. She deserved so much better than The Three Legged Dog, more than Taniel.
Cole had been staying here since he’d arrived in town a week before. He’d liked the name, figured whoever owned the place had a sense of humor. He appreciated that. It was the primary reason he chose it. Also, the rent here was cheap.
He’d seen her his very first night when he’d come down to get something to eat. He couldn’t imagine anyone more lovely, more utterly out of place in muddy, ugly Elton. His plan was to buy her something as beautiful as she was, but all he had left were two silver pieces. That equaled fifteen copper pieces. He had budgeted himself to a couple of copper pieces a night until he got himself a job.
“Can I get you anything to eat?”
Cole looked up, and there she stood. She wore the exact same thing as every other female bartender in this town; the only difference was that she wore it well.
She gave him a smile, her sparkling gray-blue eyes bright and friendly.
“Um, what would you recommend?” Cole asked shakily, his eyes devouring the creamy texture of her skin, the adorable tiny mole on her right cheek.
Her eyes narrowed as she studied his face. “Looks like you’ve had quite a night. Does it hurt?”
“Does what hurt?” He gazed at the turn of her nose. Perfect.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, remembering the face full of bruises he was carrying. “No, just—I mean, I can’t feel anything when you’re, er . . .”
Cole swallowed hard and their eyes met briefly, a moment of understanding passed between them.
Her eyes darted to a rowdy table in the center of the room. “Um, sorry, you wanted some food?”
“Food. Right. How about your favorite?” Cole said, finding confidence from the expression in her eye. There was interest there, he was sure of it.
She glanced down briefly, shyly, before looking back at him. “My favorite is our fine meat stew,” her voice softened slightly. “It’s a little expensive though. One silver piece.” Again, she cast a furtive glance toward the rowdy table. Cole knew who was there. He didn’t care. Taniel be damned. She was the only thing in the world right now.
“I’ll take two.”
“Two?”
“One for me and one for you.”
She smiled shyly. “I—I’m sorry, but I’m working.”
“Take it to go then. It’ll give you something to eat after you get off work.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
She pressed her lips together for a moment before giving a nod and turning to the kitchen. The way she moved was absolutely perfect. Why didn’t he just tell her? Oh, that’s right. Her temperamental boyfriend would probably try to have him killed again. He snuck a glance at the rowdy table. Sure enough, Taniel was there. He burrowed farther into his hood.
“You must have a death wish,” Cole heard from behind him. He
would have known that dark voice if it had kicked him in the face. Cole spun around on his stool, panic in his eyes. Maybe he could make a run for it.
“Stop!” Sebastian demanded. “You’re a wormy little thing, aren’t you?”
Cole was stuck, unable to move a muscle. Who or what exactly was this kid? He attempted to say, “I can’t move,” but it came out, “I grr waaaa.”
Sebastian calmly walked around the ‘frozen’ Cole and took a seat next to him. “Relax, finish your drink. Remember, there is no place I can’t find you.”
As soon as Sebastian was done speaking, Cole found that the invisible vise that had gripped him had gone. There was no doubt in his mind that if he tried to run, the same thing would happen again. There truly was no getting away from this boy. He stared at Sebastian in awe and fear.
“You—you’re a demon?”
“No,” Sebastian answered.
“Th—then what,” Cole asked, trembling.
“Let me help you,” Sebastian said. With a wry smile, he put his hand on Cole’s shoulder. A shockwave of understanding washed through him.
Cole gasped. “You’re—”
“Yes.”
“Ar—Are you here for me?”
Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Oh, please. Why would I waste my time with you?”
Cole turned white.
“What are you doing back here?” Sebastian asked, slightly annoyed at himself for being the least bit interested in this human’s affairs. “Isn’t this the place you were chased out of? You know if I hadn’t shown up, those guys would have killed you? Not that I would have cared.”
“I—I have my reasons,” Cole replied, his voice broken.
“You have me curious. What could possibly be worth your life?”
“Wh—What does it matter?”
“My curiosity? Very much when it comes to me. Answer me. Your life just might depend on it. Keep in mind what you tell me could be the last words that ever leave your mouth. No pressure.” Sebastian grinned. He loved letting these pathetic creatures know that their lives were his to control. The terror in Cole’s eyes almost brought tears to Sebastian’s. Tears of pride, for putting this lonely human in his place.
