Reap & Redeem (26 page)

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Authors: Lisa Medley

BOOK: Reap & Redeem
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“Bocephus, come.”

Nate wasn’t privy to the secret Reaper Authority handshake, let alone the
Hellhound Use and Training Manual.
He had no idea how this demon-tracking thing worked. Or even the commands needed to get the dog to do his thing.

Moments later, Bo hurtled toward Nate, skidding to a stop before jumping on his chest. The great dog’s forepaws struck him square in the solar plexus, pushing him down and pinning him to the ground as the brute panted his hot dog breath all over his face, with a liberal slathering of dog drizzle.

Nate laughed in spite of his grim mood, rolling away from the monster’s immense bulk. The dog was the friendliest nightmare creature he had ever met. Better than the imps by far. Now he knew why he’d never been a cat person.

Grabbing great tufts of fur behind both of the dog’s ears, Nate gave him a good scratching. He’d never been allowed a pet of his own until his Wiccan guardians had adopted him. Even then, pets had been more like family members than animals. Familiars, some called them. None of the familiars that were attached to the members of his coven had ever been as happy to see him as Bo was now. A glimmer of hope sparked in Nate’s chest and bloomed, spreading warmth through him and filling him with a momentary calm. Maybe this would all work out after all.

The spark of hope was extinguished seconds later when Nate smelled the reek of a demon. Bo jumped to his feet, a low growl emanating from him as four demons, using college-aged men as hosts, ambled into view. Hell, they weren’t even going to have to track the bastards down at this rate. The demons were so thick they were coming to him.

The group paused at the entrance to the alley. Nate reached over his right shoulder and pulled a short sword from his scabbard. Only reapers rated the “government issued” scythes. He was grateful that he’d heeded Kylen’s advice and started to carry a more effective weapon. With the short sword, he didn’t have to come as close to make a kill as with the push daggers, but he still didn’t like his odds. He’d never faced one demon alone, let alone four.

Adrenaline rushed to his heart, which drummed loudly in his chest and head, blocking out all other sound. He tried to ground himself, retrieving the calm he’d experienced moments earlier, but it was long gone. Fight or flight was his current modus operandi.

Bo made the first move, charging toward the quartet in a flurry of fur and teeth. The demons carried no visible weapons. They had thrown out any notions of subtlety… All they needed to do was get close enough to their victims to jerk out their souls. Nate had no intention of becoming one of their victims.

Bo barreled toward Thing One and Thing Two while the remaining two demons strode toward Nate. Their toxic stench was overwhelming, worse somehow than what he’d experienced while in Hell. As they closed the distance to him, his eyes began to burn and water, blurring his vision.

He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his line of sight, but something was wrong. The stench had surrounded him in a fog, and was mudding his mind as well as his vision. None of the demons he’d helped kill and dispatch had used this sort of weapon before…this was something new.

The demons were evolving.

Nate needed a better defense. He was almost incapacitated, and the first blow hadn’t even been struck. Although he’d never knowingly manifested a protective aura alone, he and Ruth had done so together many times in the past. The magical circles he’d cast around his home and Ruth’s were mostly static. What he needed now was something more mobile. He imagined a protective circle of energy projecting out from him, pushing away the debilitating poison from the demons. The circle wouldn’t stop the demons from attacking him, but he hoped it would reduce or eliminate this new advantage of theirs.

Focusing inward, he drew in a long, deep breath, and then watched in amazement as light began to glow around him. Soon he was enveloped by a bright green radiance.

A screeching noise drew their attention. The demons turned back to see their fallen comrades being ripped and sliced by Bo. The dog’s size and ferocity was impressive, and he was more than a match for his two opponents. When one fell to the ground, the dog latched onto its throat, tearing it open like a bloody Christmas gift, all but decapitating the host before he renewed his attack upon the other one. Raking his claws down the demon’s fleshy shell, the dog then inflicted a well-placed bite to its neck.

The hosts’ heads were still attached by tendons and dangling bits of flesh, but the job was completed—they lay dead and worthless and Bo began to consume the bodies in great fleshy chunks. Two black torrents of smoky mist streamed from the torsos, followed by several lighter gray shadows. Unable to resist the call of the untethered souls, Thing Three and Thing Four retreated from Nate to retrieve the freed souls for their master. They were programmed for one duty: collecting souls. Right now that was working to Nate’s advantage.

He watched as they collected the errant souls. The two unhoused demons hovered nearby for a few moments, obviously weighing the possibility of taking Nate’s body, and then abandoned the alley in search of easier prey. After gathering the stray souls, the two remaining demons, stuffed and confused, also abandoned the fight, retreating down the alley at a jog.

Nate hoped they would be drawn to the portal to deliver their latest cargo. It was the best plan he had… It was the
only
plan he had.

“Bo, come!” Nate called to the hellhound, who reluctantly obeyed his command this time and retreated from the already-spotless site of his frenzied dinner party. He dropped one remaining bloody femur at Nate’s feet, wagging his tail. “No time for fetch now, boy. Let’s follow those demons to the portal.”

Careful to stay far enough behind them not to draw their interest, Nate and Bo followed the quickly deteriorating hosts to the edge of town. The demons were slow and lethargic, but they seemed determined. Nate was becoming increasingly certain that they’d lead him to exactly what he was looking for.

They were heading into the industrial part of town near the old railroad hub, an unfamiliar area for Nate. The train yard had long since closed and only the daily coal trains passed through the area on their way to the power plant. No cargo loaded or offloaded here anymore, and auto traffic was virtually nonexistent. It was the perfect place for nefarious activities…and a portal to Hell.

The most-used train track was still well maintained, but one abandoned line veered off into the woods before vanishing into the undergrowth. The demons followed the path less traveled into the darkness of the woods. Nate and Bo stayed as close behind as they dared until the tracks ended at an abandoned railcar.

Thing Three and Thing Four entered the railcar, and seconds later a flash of light filled the container, pouring from the dilapidated sides for a split second before vanishing. Nate hesitated, considering his options. Should he continue his search for Kylen, or find the others and lead them to the portal?

He decided to flash himself back to the hospital chapel to rendezvous with Maeve. Surely she would know what to do. He was all out of ideas.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Kylen landed in Purgatory and stalked through the steam leaching up through the cracks in the stone floor, pushing aside anyone or anything that had the misfortune of stepping into his path. He was walking a fine line by being physical with the other reapers, but he didn’t care.

His needed answers.

Purgatory was a no man’s land where reapers of all races and species brought the souls of their dead for sorting. The Grand Central Station of death. Everything except for demons and imps, both of which were
born
of Hell, had a soul. And all those souls required reaping.

The angel Rashnu spotted him as the other reapers made way for him. When the angel raised an arm over his head, Kylen was certain for a moment that he was about to be struck down for insubordination, but instead Rashnu pointed to a tunnel at the end of the station, which illuminated of its own accord.

Kylen walked toward the tunnel, the other reapers parting before him like the Red Sea before the Israelites.

As he stalked his way into the tunnel, he was blinded by the searing light that seemed to emanate from the walls. A heavy wooden door sealed off an arched doorway to his left. He recognized it as the door to Rashnu’s quarters. Turning, he put his back to the wall and waited, his scythe still drawn.

After a moment, Rashnu joined him. “I thought you were going to incite a war out there. It would have been a shame to have to smite you after all you’ve survived.”

Kylen scoffed, unconvinced by his forced concern. With a wave of his hand, Rashnu opened the door. “Please,” he said, motioning toward the bar. He pulled out a chair for him before walking behind the counter and setting down three glasses.

Kylen frowned.
Three?

Rashnu muttered and mumbled beneath the bar, his long dark hair a wild mass bobbing up and down like a buoy on the sea. Finally he rose to his full height, a bottle in each hand. He carefully measured out a shot from each of the bottles into one of the glasses before returning the bottles behind the bar. He topped off his own glass from a dark decanter, and then filled the third glass from yet another bottle.

“You are a drinking man, yes?” Rashnu slid a glass toward him.

Kylen picked up the tumbler and sniffed its contents. It smelled like whiskey and something sweet he couldn’t quite place. Not entirely unpleasant, but something held him back.

“Why aren’t you drinking the same thing?” Kylen asked.

“Because I’m not taking the same journey as you.”

The only thing Kylen hated more than riddles and evasions was…yeah, nothing. He had come here for answers, and he wanted them yesterday.

“Talk sense.”

“Why did you come here tonight, Kylen?” Rashnu tipped his glass to his lips and sipped. “I can sense the rage in your heart.”

“Where is Grim?”

“If you’ve come to see Grim, he’s unavailable. But rest assured that I can help you with anything you need. So, again, I ask you, why did you come here tonight?

“I want their souls returned.”

“Whose souls?”

“Ruth’s and…Olivia’s.”

Rashnu tipped back his glass and let the remaining liquid slide down his throat. “I’m afraid that’s impossible considering the current state of affairs.”

“Where are they? I know you know. Tell me, and I’ll retrieve them myself!” Kylen slammed his fist and his scythe into the top of the bar.

“That would be difficult considering the fact that they both still hold their souls.”

Kylen blinked. First he was unsure of what he’d heard, and then he was positive it was a trick. “They are alive? Both of them?”

“Yes. Both are alive. Although, Ruth is gravely injured. And Olivia…”

“Where are they?”

“Ruth is under Deacon’s care. And Olivia is with another. I do not know where. I only know that she is alive. For now.”

Kylen’s blood sizzled in his veins. He wanted to reach across the bar and tear the angel’s head from his shoulders. Rashnu was purposely messing with him, and he was in no mood for games.

“Who is she with?”

“I think you know. Haven’t you been wondering why those imps have been following you?” Rashnu downed the rest of the drink with one gulp and held the glass up to the light, admiring it.

“How do you know about that?”

“It’s my job to know about lost souls, Kylen. It’s your job to make the right decisions so that yours can be found. Even more so now that you have committed yourself to the Authority. Or has your resolve already waned?”

“I’m sick of your bullshit, angel. Who has her? And how can I get her back?”

“Who do you serve, Kylen?”

Kylen blinked and sat back in the bar stool like he’d been struck.

Who did he serve?

Himself, that’s who.

“You prayed earlier and asked for help, no? You arrived here unharmed and now have private audience with me, answers at your fingertips and a stiff drink before you. All you have to do is choose. Who do you serve? Sure you’ve been installed as an Authority, but you and I both know your heart is not yet in it. You’ve seen the best and worst both sides have to offer, no? Very few ever get to have that experience, Kylen. They choose without nearly as much information as you have at your fingertips, damning or saving themselves in the process. So what will it be? Who do you truly serve? There are really just two choices. Good or evil? Light or dark? Pick one and choose your path. Once and for all.”

Kylen’s head reeled. Why should he have to choose? His earlier plan of disappearing was looking better and better, but he was well beyond that option now. He was sitting with an angel in Purgatory while Olivia was…somewhere with Camael. Yes, he knew there was only one who could have taken her. He was the one creature vile enough to use a dying woman as bait, to take the woman Kylen…loved. Even now he could barely think the word.

He should have known the imps weren’t there for him to command. The whole time, they’d been there to keep an eye on him. Camael had known all along that he could still tune in to Hell. The bastard had kept the channels open to him hoping he could use the connection to entice him to return. Hadn’t that been the reason for all his nightmares? Now that he was being honest with himself, he’d known that all along. Had known and let that knowledge fester inside him because he thought he deserved to be damned.

Could he ever clear his memories of the time he’d spent controlled by Orithidon? No, he knew his destiny. He would always remember. The question was whether or not he would let himself be ruled by those memories.

“Who do you serve, Kylen? Your answer will make all the difference in how we go forward.”

Kylen swallowed hard. His hands shook as he wrapped them around the glass in front of him. He realized he wasn’t just choosing for himself. He was choosing for Olivia, too. If he chose wrong, she’d be damned as well, and that he couldn’t allow. He’d carried Kara’s soul to Purgatory so that she could ascend. When the time came, he’d do no less for Olivia, no matter how painful it was for him.

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