Pure & Sinful (Pure Souls) (25 page)

She held her hand out, ready to shake on it.

Lucifer eyed it with distrust. “I’m not willing to wait for you. If you’re offering your soul, I want the body that comes with it to be done away with immediately. I want you on the next flight out.”

Riona’s eyes flashed to the doors of her closet, and soon, her body followed. How many times over the years had she almost given away that stupid family relic that her deadbeat dad left to her mother? She knew it was worth a pretty penny, but she had never wanted to benefit at all from something that love-and-leave-jerk had given. When she reemerged with the silver dagger’s handle wrapped in a cotton cloth in her hand, she at least took some comfort that the odd gift would benefit Marc.

“I was told the tip is poisoned,” she answered to both Lucifer’s and Marc’s curiosity-filled gazes. “In any case, it’s sharp, and it’s long, and I’ll plunge it in my heart the moment you agree to take my soul in his place.”

Lucifer took the blade for proper scrutiny. He turned it over at the level of his eyes, taking in each minute detail. “My, my, my… Where did you get this?”

“It was my father’s,” Riona replied through gritted teeth. “He’s probably one of your guests. Knocked up my mom, then took off and got himself killed, so I damned well hope you have him slow-roasting on a spit.”

Lucifer’s laugh unnerved her. “Sorry, love. No, he’s not one of my guests, but yes, we’ve met. Well, looks like someone’s got a few high branches in her family tree, hmm? Which just makes this all the sweeter. Deal, I’ll take your soul in place of Marc’s, and you’ll properly dispatch yourself upon execution. I’ll even throw in a little pain-dulling charm as a signing bonus. Now, per forma, there’re three ways to seal the agreement: Sex.”

“Absolutely not,” Riona retorted, her eyes ablaze.

“Two, by contract, which I’m more than willing to do…”

“No doubt you got plenty of lawyers at your disposal,” Marc uttered under his breath.

“Oh, yes, I have a whole collection. But, that takes a few days, so I suggest we go with method three.”

The witch’s eyebrow arched.

Lucifer took Riona’s dagger-bearing hand and scrapped the tip of the blade over the inside of his palm. “A consignment of blood.” He saw her staring, terror-stricken at the dribble of blood that glistened, black, thick and putrid. “Oh, they weren’t lying, love. There’s a poison on this blade, all right. But no cause for alarm; it’s been in my blood for centuries.”

He switched the dagger’s blade and offered it and his bloody right hand. “Let’s get a move on then, yes?”

Looking once more to Marc, trying to tell him with her eyes what she was feeling in her heart, she took a deep long breath, her face falling to the floor. Behind Lucifer, the doorway filled with two bodies, beaten, bloody, and battered.

“Riona?” Ramiel queried when he saw the scene before him.

She was too ashamed to meet his gaze. “Marc’s safe. All we have to do is seal it with blood.”

Jerry, still in Dee’s body, gnashed his teeth. He looked as though he was going to hit something and smash it into dust, using Dee’s superhuman muscles to decimate it. Yet, he stood, unmoving, every muscle taut.

“Angel of Hope, is that you?” Lucifer asked as he too noticed the lurking pair. With a sly sneer, he chuckled and pointed a luxuriously long finger at the celestial being. “Ramiel, you old dog. I always considered you an upfront-and-on-the-table sort of guy. Things have changed, huh? You’ve been holding back quite a bit of information from this one. No wonder her destiny is so great, considering. Oh, what a day I’m having.” He twirled the dagger in his grip. “I get a Keystone and a shiny new toy.” 

“How dare you lay your putrid hands upon it!” Ramiel growled, his voice becoming like thunder in the small space. “You’re not worthy…”

“The Keystone gave it to me willingly,” Lucifer snapped back, as he again looked at the blade in his hand more scrupulously. “Hmm… Not as big as I remember it. I’m actually really under-impressed.”

Jerry couldn’t help himself. “I bet women say that to you all the time.”

As though realizing he’d revealed himself, Jerry’s hands flew over his mouth. But it was too late. His pun had drawn Lucifer’s examination, and the devil could see the truth plainly in the unnatural blue of his eyes.

“You!” Lucifer hissed. “How the fuck did you get out of that cell?”

Jerry jerked his head in Ramiel’s direction. “A little divine intervention.”

“That’s impossible! Angels can’t descend into Hell.”

Jerry shrugged. “I found a loophole. You know, kind of like the ones I’ve been finding you for centuries. Wise up, bitch. I’m going state’s evidence now.”

Hellfire ran through Lucifer’s veins, casting an eerie red glow that crawled over the surface of his skin. “I keep telling you, demon, the road to Hell is a one-way street. Ain’t no getting out of my service. I own your soul. All I have to do is uncouple you from that body and you’re on a beeline for Beelzebubland.  And, as a bonus, I get to kill the Pure Soul whose body you’re using, so yay me.”

Lucifer’s arm whipped back, and it didn’t take Riona but a moment to see what was going to happen. On impulse, her magic took command, like the day it had in the freezer, long ago, when she walked through a wall without even knowing how. Instinct willed her body to do the impossible before her mind could come up to speed.

She flashed, her corporeal being melting to mist, only to reform itself dead on in front of Jerry.

Just in time to catch the dagger in her chest.

Jerry vied with the carpet-covered floor for the right to catch Riona from her fall. He barely won.
The blood, oh goddesses atop Olympus, the blood…
S
he was bathed in it. He could hear her heart, wild with the excitement and racing to save a body rapidly oozing life. The dagger had lodged itself just under her right breast, and likely pierced a lung, guaranteeing her but a few minutes to cling to this world. The witch gasped like a goldfish forced from its bowl, every labored breath leaving more dark red dots on her chin.

Marc was beside her in a moment, holding her hand, covering it in kisses and tears. Jerry, dumbfounded, flanked her other side, looking at the damage done by the sacrifice the witch had made of her own body to save his pitiful self.

“Stupid, stupid,” he found himself uttering mindlessly. “I’m already dead. I’m already fucking dead.”

But Riona wasn’t paying any attention to him; her eyes, wet and dimming, were focused on Lucifer. “Blood…” she uttered as her hand skimmed her chest, leaving a sanguine smear across her fingertips. “Must… seal… agreement…”

“Yes!” Lucifer leapt, trying to make his way to Riona. “She must agree with a mixing of blood before she dies, or the exchange is void. Let me!”

Marc and Jerry together outstretched their hands, as though thinking with one head.
“
Minxia verbaet
!” t
hey chanted in unison. The repelling charm gave the devil a walloping punch in the chest, strong enough to land him on his back.

“I won’t let you take my place,” Marc promised as he pushed Riona’s hand against his cheek. Her fingertips left patches of red on his brow. “I love you, Riona Dade. You hear that? I don’t care if I’m going to Hell, I love you.”

She smiled with effort. “Me too, that’s… why… I must.” 

Marc’s eyes turned steely as he got Jerry in his crosshairs. “You still inside there, demon?”

“Yeah.”

“You truly love her?”

Jerry nodded. “I do.”

A confused Lucifer picked himself up off of the floor, shaking his head and blinking rapidly.

Marc’s expression shifted as he lay Riona’s hand back on her chest, his fingers wrapping around the handle of the dagger that rolled and jutted in time with each agonized breath the witch drew. If he didn’t do this now, he might lose the chance.

“Dee has the ability to heal her,” Marc uttered as he flexed his arm and drew the dagger from her chest. The witch’s eyes were panicked, but her body was too weak to offer a defense. “The second I’m gone, let him back in his body so he can save her.”

“Marc?” Ramiel stuttered. “Marc, what are you …?  Marc! Holy God, no!”

The priest’s aim put the devil’s to shame. The dagger plunged through Marc’s heart with an accuracy that would have brought a Swiss watchmaker to tears.

An anguished bark of heartbreak broke from Riona as she lashed out, reaching for him. The struggle brought a fresh red discharge trickling down her stomach. Ramiel dove, trying to pull the dagger back, but the damage was done. Before Marc’s knees even buckled under the weight of his own body, he was gone.

Lucifer crushed forward, past the angel who was trying his best to wrestle the blade from Marc’s chest, toward the witch whose will to live had deserted her and was on the edge of slipping away.

“Touch me with the blood of your intent and agree,” the devil breathed, falling down to his knees next to the witch. “Give me your soul and I can still save him. Souls don’t descend until sunrise. If your priest was telling the truth and your other Pure Soul has healing powers, his body can be remade. Then I can restore his soul. Seal our pact!”

“Jerry… my … hand…”

With trembling nerves, the demon paused. “Riona, are you sure?”

“No!” Lucifer growled, slapping away Jerry’s offer to assist. “It must be under her own power, or it is not binding.”

She was slipping. Jerry could feel her frame lightening in his hold, as her soul began detaching from her body.

“You!” The devil’s vice-like grip aimed straight for Jerry’s neck. Even Dee’s massive ropes of neck muscles that could best a yoked ox, burned under the pain. “Take yourself from this body and let the soul whose property it is return. He needs to save her.
I
need
h
er.”

An observer would need a degree in ancient civilizations to grasp the full breadth of Jerry’s biting reply, which he spat out in a tongue long dead. “And that’s assuming you could keep it hard that long,” he finished off in English.

“Cur! You want the woman you love to die?”

“Yes!” Jerry lashed back. “If that means keeping her from you! She dies now, she goes to Heaven. And you…”

Jerry looked up just in time to see the gleam of the dagger’s tip, precariously positioned and ready to strike, in the hand of the eager archangel behind them.

Jerry was so going to love this. “You can go to Hell!”

Green ooze shot out in all directions when the dagger pierced through Lucifer’s corporeal form. It burned on Jerry’s skin like acid. Lucifer barely had time to look down before his solidity began to waver. His skin peeled, his bone softened to ash, as his whole being began to scatter like dust upon the floor. The dagger, losing its anchor, fell unceremoniously into a heap of powder.

Jerry looked up to the panting angel. “Thanks.” Then, to the dagger. “How the hell did she get a hold of that?”

Ramiel swept the silver blade from the floor, putting it in his belt. “You heard the woman, her father gave it to her.”

“Son of a bitch. You mean
he’s
her daa…”

Ramiel’s fingers flew up to his pursed lips. “Not yet.”

Jerry nodded his understanding. He took one more look at Riona; her breath was weaker than ever. She was on the edge. He leaned over and kissed her once on the cheek. “I’m sorry for everything, Ree. I love you.”

And with that, he closed his eyes, sending a call to the cosmos for the return of Dee’s soul. He knew exactly where he was going, and that Lucifer was going to be more pissed than an hour-late Walmart customer on Black Friday when he passed back over the River Styx and through the gates of Hell. Wasn’t no big thing; he knew where the bus was going when he bought the ticket. Still, he was going to miss Riona Dade. Forever.

He exhaled, his breath, carrying with it his spirit, and felt the cold fingers of damnation pulling him back into that burning abyss.

Chapter 26

“What, right now?”

Ramiel picked one hell of a time to launch a stand-up act, and Dee was so not digging the joke. He knew it wasn’t exactly in an archangel’s repertoire to offer much in the way of tea and sympathy. They were more of the “Hark! I bare ye good tidings that will screw up your life” or a “Guess what? You’re going to hell in a flaming hand basket” type of crowd.  And it wasn’t like Dee expected Ramiel to pick up Riona, set her on his lap, and start reciting Hallmark one-liners. But a Pure Soul had just fallen hours before — at the hands of Lucifer himself, nonetheless. Perhaps taking off to a non-earthly plane right now would be considered a tad bit rude in some more refined circles. Amongst serial murderers, for example.

Ramiel’s hands flew up defensively. “I’d ignore the summons if I could, but the Council of Seven doesn’t convene on the fly like this unless there’s serious shit going on.”

That brought a wave of concern and fear to the demigod.

Dee peeked through the crack of the door to see if anything in the bedroom had changed. It hadn’t. Riona still sat next to Marc’s expired body, his hand in her grasp as she rocked back and forth, crying softly. Out of Riona’s window, the setting sun filled the horizon with a glow of amber rays, sending shafts of light piercing through her aura, which now glowed with a woeful purple-gold hue. 

Dee exhaled his frustration. What a thing to wake up to. The moment he slipped back into his body, the sight before him filled him with regret and disgust. His best friend was dead, and Riona was on the edge of joining him, lying bloody and battered in his arms. Without hesitation and not caring that the archangel was let in on his little family secret, Dee called on the extra healing gifts his father had illegally arranged for him, erasing her wounds. Hoping that it wasn’t too late, he then focused on Marc and undid the damage the dagger caused, following with a few rounds of CPR. Fifteen minutes did no good. Marcello Angeletti was gone, and despite being saved, Riona wished she were too.

Dee spoke quickly, but softly. “You think it has something to do with what happened last night?”

Ramiel coughed a laugh. “How could it not? Lucifer himself managed to bring a Pure Soul to condemnation, and nearly got Riona in his place. And then I get involved directly, which as you know on Earth requires a formal declaration of war by Heaven. Someone upstairs is pissed off, that’s for sure, and wants explanations.” He rolled his eyes. “Like I don’t know who it is.”

Dee quirked an eyebrow.

“Look, these things never take long. One good thing about archangels when we conference: we get straight to the point and talk really fast. I’ll be back just as soon as it’s done. Won’t take but a few minutes.”

Dee waved at him with annoyance. “Fine, go.”

In a flash, the angel vamoosed.

With a sigh, Dee stood and made his way to the kitchen. Soon, he found himself stepping into Riona’s bedroom, two hot, steaming cups of Earl Grey in hand.

She didn’t turn.