by Angie Fox
As we neared town, I could start to make out some of the buildings. "Look," I said, pointing out a pack of wild fenrises. There were at least a half dozen of them. They were large, like Babydoll, with gray-and-black coats. The pack munched on a garden of dull gray plants near the rear of a building.
"They should be eating devil's grass," she scolded, "from the barren plains behind us." She sighed, as if that were our biggest problem. "Oh well. Let them have a treat. We'll just hope someone's not too upset about their cauliflower crop."
And my mom thought she had trouble with rabbits in her garden.
"Okay, let's keep our guard up," I said, as we entered an alley between the stubby building and the taller one.
"Just a sec." Shiloh paused near the fenrises in the yard. I kept walking.
Cities in purgatory were like supernatural slums, at least the parts I'd seen.
Overflowing trash cans crammed the alley. I could smell the rot, the almost palpable sense of despair. The black clouds hovered thicker over the city, as if the suffering itself drew them, bearing down on the inhabitants even more, in a depressing circle of almost-life.
"You know where we're going?" Shiloh asked, drawing closer to me.
"I hope." I'd been to Rae Rae's pawn shop only once before, but I had to believe it was still there. And that we could find it.
The alley opened up on a city street swirling with debris. Directly ahead of us, a gang of grayish-skinned men shoved at one another.
A particularly menacing one with black swastikas on his cheeks drew a gun. "You want a taste of me, motherfucker?"
Three more of the men pulled out weapons.
"Fuck you!" His rival lifted a gun and shot the man in the gut.
The bullet passed straight through, lodging in the cracking grey stone building to our right.
I stopped dead. It didn't faze the skinhead or the gang member or whatever the hell he was, but it could have killed me or Shiloh.
She gripped my arm and pulled me forward. "Come on. Act casual."
Easier said than done.
The thug's attention had turned to us. His face broke into a leer, stretching his tattoos and making his face look even more ghoulish. "Look who wants to have some fun."
A fat sweaty guy behind him eyed Shiloh's outfit. "I'll get you out of that dress."
Lordy. My friend wore red in the land of gray tones. We were a walking target.
Sweat flushed my skin as I reached for my switch stars. I didn't know if I could kill them all. Or if I should. They hadn't gone after us directly. Yet.
"Stop," Shiloh said, her breath hot against my ear. "Let me handle this."
She pushed away from me, her skin taking on a faint gold shimmer. Her eyes glowed pink. Her skin flushed. I watched an unnatural calm settle over the men as a delicate scarlet-toned bubble encapsulated Shiloh and me. Warmth and energy washed over my skin and right down to my bones. It made me feel relaxed. Sexy.
Not that I was going to do anything about it.
I couldn't say the same for Shiloh. She curled a hand over her hip, thrust out her chest, and gave a decimating come-hither smile. The woman positively radiated sex. She licked her lips, eyeing the large thug with the swastikas on his cheeks. "One at a time or all of you together?" she purred.
The guy puffed up, obviously into it. "Fuck these assholes. You want me."
A man like that should have attacked already. It was in his nature. But he held back.
All of them did.
Shiloh's skin glowed and I realized with a start that she was drawing power from him. That couldn't be safe. But seeing as it was the only thing keeping us out of a fight, I let it go. She had a handle on it.
I hoped.
She'd obviously done this before.
The she-demon drew a finger over her skintight red latex dress, somehow managing to make the bust even more revealing. Hells bells. If she didn't watch it, one of her boobs was going to pop out.
"Thing is," she drawled, "I work for Frisco."
The gang members flinched as a group and I made a mental note to avoid this Frisco.
Shiloh strolled over to the shooter. He'd dropped his hands to his sides, unsure for the first time.
I followed her, staying closer than I wanted because—let's face it—I wasn't about to leave her power circle.
She arched her back and pressed her breasts toward his chest, drawing him into her glistening bubble of power. "I like it rough." She traced a finger down his chest. "And I like you."
Her power flared red as she drew more and more from him. His shoulders and spine relaxed, as if she'd already given him the workout she promised.
Shiloh paused, rubbing her glossed lips together. She had him mesmerized. She tilted her head and her hair fell away, exposing a long white expanse of skin. "How about you meet me at Frisco's establishment in an hour. I'll treat you real special."
"Fuck yeah," he chuckled, still off his game, still not touching her.
She turned and gave me a wink. "Come on. I think I'll need to warm up for this one." She puckered her lips at him and I tried not to gag.
She took one step away, then two. I kept up with her. I stayed in the bubble, even though it made me uncomfortable as hell. I wasn't one for sneaking around, seducing.
I leaned close to her. I appreciated her getting us out of there, but, "Don't include me in your sex talk," I hissed.
"Don't look back," she said, not even looking at me. "Don't show weakness."
"I'm not weak," I muttered. Had she seen me fight? I desperately wanted to see what was behind us. "I'm just not a sex demon."
"Tell me about it," she said, as she linked her arm with mine. "Today, I gotta tell you, I'm really enjoying it."
Sin and damnation. If we had to be on a street full of brothels, I supposed I should be glad one of us could appreciate it.
Nothing had followed us. Yet. I glanced over my shoulder. Narrow gray buildings crowded the streets, with signs that said Donner's, Mac's, Odessa, and Famous Fire.
"I'll give them one thing," I murmured. "They're discreet."
"If you've been here long enough, you know," Shiloh said.
Lovely. I glanced around. "Why are these on the edge of town?" It seemed like the underworld would celebrate debauchery. "Or are these the really kinky ones?"
"Crazier than anything you can imagine," Shiloh said, nodding to a man out in front of Frisco's. Holy Hades. She really did know Frisco. "I don't miss it," she said quickly. "Much," she added.
She used to feed on lust. Maybe it was exciting, but it couldn't make her truly happy. "You have a better life now," I told her, just in case she needed a reminder.
She glanced at me. "That's why I keep walking."
We drew plenty of stares, but the bubble held and no one approached us as we walked deeper into the red-light district. Most of the buildings were plain, with handwritten cardboard signs out front. Nothing made them stand out, other than the various crowds of shifty-looking men outside. There were a few women, mostly wearing few to no clothes. Everything in shades of black and white.
"Still whorehouses," she said, as if anticipating my question.
We headed deeper into the city until Shiloh started pointing out as many bars as she did bordellos. It was an improvement.
"I don't get it," I told her. "When I was here before, the people acted as if they were already dead. They just shuffled down the street." I shook my head. "We're in trouble if the Earl has somehow altered the energy of purgatory itself."
"It's not that," Shiloh said. "There's a Dead Section. This way." We made a hard right down a street that looked more like an alley. Tall buildings cast shadows over the narrow corridor and I swore I could sense movement in the corners.
"This is even creepier than the live section," I told her.
Shiloh's power shimmered around us. "I think so. But from what you're saying, I'll bet your friend is this way."
"There were a lot of fast food places and the people
moved like drones."
"That's the Dead Section," she said, as the alleyway grew darker. "There are different districts down here," Shiloh explained, "neighborhoods if you will." She glanced up at the buzzards circling overhead. "Although you're going to have to help me with this one, because I've never been out of the section we just left."
Okay. "I can do that." At least we were headed in the right direction. Frankly I preferred the less active trapped souls. We were conspicuously alone in the narrow passage, with no one ahead of us or behind. We sped up our pace. "How are you doing in those heels?" I asked. Mine were starting to pinch.
Shiloh tossed her hair back, managing to look like a model in a shampoo ad. "I get off on heels."
I brought my gaze back to the long road ahead. "Of course you do."
The passage opened up into the place where the inhabitants' eyes had deadened and their spirits caved. I was actually glad to see it, which I knew was wrong on about ten different levels.
But we had a job to do. We had to find Rachmort so he could help us sever the links to the hundreds of church members who were tied to the Earl. The demon was drawing energy from them because my dad had broken the seal, opened up a crack if you will. We'd close it and free those people for good.
Shiloh's bubble weakened the farther we drew from the brothels, until it shimmered away completely. "That's all I can do," she said, slightly worried.
It would have to be enough. "Stick close," I told her.
I had worries of my own. About our security, yes, that was a given. But I'd also come to the sickening realization that I felt more comfortable here than I should. My body felt stronger. My heels didn't hurt anymore. In fact…I glanced down at my hand and saw smooth, healed skin.
Yikes.
Shiloh noticed as well. "I've been where you're going and it's not pretty."
I knew that. What to do about it was another matter. "At least I'm recovering." Look at the bright side, right? With more strength, I'd have a better chance to seal away the Earl for good.
That's what I told myself, anyway.
Shiloh wasn't swayed. "It's going to tempt you with things you want."
Like hope, healing, and a chance to save people. "I'm aware," I told her. I didn't know if I had a choice. Or if it was entirely bad, as long as I could control it.
I sidestepped to avoid a lost soul. Here, the people with grayish skin wandered up and down the confining streets, with no apparent rush or direction. We passed several shuttered businesses, a few open ones.
Fast food seemed to be the most popular, just like the last time I was here. I know when I had a bad day, I needed Taco Bell, but this was ridiculous.
There was no energy here, no life.
I thought I might almost prefer the naked violence of the kinky whorehouse area, and then I remembered the live bullets flying.
Here, nobody even looked you in the eye. A trashcan had toppled on its side, spilling empty cups and fast food wrappers.
Nobody seemed to care. These people were like empty shells. They bumped against streetlights, unused parking meters, and even one another with barely a nod of recognition.
"Why are they like this?" I asked.
Shiloh gave a slight shiver. "When you have nothing else to trade down here, you trade part of your soul." A glassy-eyed woman stumbled toward us. She wore a business suit with a large bow tied at the neck. Her glasses were skewed on her face and her eyes were blank. Shiloh stepped sideways to avoid the woman. "Trade too much and you end up like her."
I felt sorry for her. Did she get credit for time served? "How does she get saved?"
Shiloh's shoulder nudged me as she moved aside for the woman. "She doesn't."
I refused to believe that. Or maybe I just didn't want it to be true.
"At least it's better than hell," Shiloh said.
I wasn't sure if it was.
I could see why my mentor, Rachmort, had chosen to spend his life reaching out to the trapped souls here. I wondered if he worked with them like this, or if he saved them before they got this bad.
We passed a guy with a Toasty Almonds cart. Only the nuts had no smell. Probably no color or taste, either.
"Look," I said, pointing down the street toward a small, sad park. An expanse of gray grass featured black benches and a dry gray stone fountain with an immense gargoyle in the middle. I remembered that garden from when my dad and I ventured down here.
"Rae Rae's is close. This way" I led us across the street and then down to the next block to a drab storefront. And sue me, I let out a sigh of relief when I saw the spray-painted sign over the door. Rae Rae's Re-Usables.
Shiloh looked it up and down. "This is a dump."
"A good one," I told her. Rachmort trusted him. My dad had as well, but that was neither here nor there. I only hoped Rae Rae himself was working. I didn't know anybody else down here and didn't think Shiloh's friend would take too kindly to helping us find a necromancer. "Come on." I opened the creaky, dirty door and stepped inside a small shop.
The only light came from an array of stubby white candles and a busted-out part of the roof, currently covered in makeshift glass and duct tape.
A freakishly tall man stood behind a glass counter. If we were still in LA, I would have mistaken him for a professional athlete. He had the kind of wide-shouldered, lean-muscled physique that made you stop and take a second look. He also had the largest hands I'd ever seen. Today, he'd painted his nails silver and decorated them with white polka dots. He'd shaved all the hair from his body and wore a rust-and-brown-chevron dress.
All put together, Rae Rae looked like a black Vin Diesel in drag.
And sue me if I envied his slim hips.
I shook my head. I had to think of him as a her. Anybody who referred to Rae Rae as a guy got kicked out of the pawn shop.
Rae Rae didn't even glance up as the bell over my head jingled. Instead, she lowered her chin and glared at the handsome man in front of her.
"I don't care if you have all the king's gold and half his men back at your place in New Orleans. You got to have some cash now if you want that crystal."
The man's wide shoulders bunched as he slammed a hand down onto the counter. "Damn it. You know I'm good for it." He wore a long leather duster jacket and cowboy boots. The ornate bronze clockwork ring on his right hand advertised his status as a necromancer. His shoulders strained as he worked hard to collect himself. "At least let me use credit."
Rae Rae drew up to her full height. "Excuse me. Does this look like a fucking savings and loan? Is my name Charity?"
"This is important," her customer ground out. "Life and death."
Rae Rae clucked. "And this is me getting bored." She curled a hand and placed it on her hip. "If you weren't so cute, I'd have kicked you out by now."
The necromancer ran a frustrated hand through his spiky brown hair. "I could turn you into a spider."
Rae Rae batted her lashes. "Oh, snap! But you won't. You're too goody-two-shoes."
"Damn it."
"Ohh…talk dirty to me."
She was just baiting him now.
We watched from the narrow foyer. Shiloh leaned in close behind me. "The guy in the black coat is hot."
"He is," I murmured, not quite believing I'd said it.
What was wrong with me? I loved Dimitri. I shouldn't be staring at Rae Rae's customer. Even if he was all sinew and muscle.
Stop it.
He looked as if he was about my age, with that badass edge you get only from being on the front lines.
"I received a sign," he was saying to Rae Rae. "It said to come in today. I'd be given the crystal today."
The pawn broker shrugged. "Sorry, beautiful. Your signs are off."
That got him going. "My predictions are never wrong."
She rolled her eyes. "You believe this know-it-all?" she asked, turning to us by the door. When she saw who I was, her face lit up. "Lizzie Brown," she exclaimed. Of course she would be excited to see me. The las
t time I came here, I'd had lavender hair and Rae Rae had given me a super short cut, in the name of profit. Color was like currency down here. This time, Shiloh stepped out from behind me and Rae Rae about went into a faint. "Queen Mother on a boat." She spread her arms and strutted over to greet us. "What do you have?"
The man at the counter turned, his blue eyes blazing hot. "Oh, God. It is you."
I looked behind me to Shiloh, but then I realized he was talking to me. "Do I know you?" I think I would have remembered.
He crossed his arms over his chest. Great. I guess he was pissed at me now. Or maybe he was grouchy because of what he was. My mentor Rachmort's attitude was abnormally positive, for one who dealt with the dead. But this necromancer definitely needed to get out more.
I stepped back as Rae Rae brushed past me and headed straight to Shiloh. She ran her manicured fingers over Shiloh's shoulders and skimmed over her red latex dress. "Oh you are mine, babygirl. All mine."
The drag queen could try to be a little subtle. Or not. "We're looking for Rachmort," I told her.
Rae Rae didn't answer. She was too wrapped up in my friend's wardrobe. "I could pair you with silk stockings, love. Maybe add a broach."
Shiloh tilted her head at me, a bit put out. "You set me up, didn't you?"
"Relax." Maybe Rae Rae would point us to our necromancer without Shiloh trading her dress.
Nah. Shiloh was losing the dress.
"Where's Rachmort?" I asked again.
Rae Rae drew back. "Oh, don't tease me," she crooned. "I don't know that. What else do you want?"
"Him and only him," I told her.
Rae Rae gave a pout. "Then I would lie to you if Rachmort wouldn't kick my ass later." She sighed. "He doesn't check in with the likes of me, sweetness. And I haven't seen him in a month." She gave me a level look. "Now let's focus on what's important. What else can I get for you?"
The hottie behind her stared daggers at her back. "Give me my crystal."
"Sashay in here with a skintight dress and we'll talk," she said to him, not even bothering to turn around.
We had to get beyond commerce here. Souls were at stake. "Listen to me very carefully," I said to Rae Rae. "I locked a demon away, but he has a dark vortex open and he's drawing power from Earth." The shop owner looked bored, but I pushed on. "It could be very, very bad unless a necromancer like Rachmort shows me how to close this thing."
