“What’d ya just say to me in Angel?” I ask Anya as I pant against the pain.
“I told you that you’re a mess.”
I laugh, and then wince as shootin’ pain in my gut reminds me not to do that. “I wasn’t always this bad. I keep wonderin’ how I got here when just a couple of years ago I was cuttin’ lawns for gas money.” I try to smile.
“Now someone is cutting you.” She frowns in concentration.
“I’ll heal.”
“This time,” Anya murmurs. Over her shoulder to Brownie, she says, “Close the portal.” Brownie moves to a table near me. She lifts a white pitcher and drops it on the floor. The painted blue porcelain shatters into a hundred pieces.
“It’s closed,” Brownie says. She looks like a child playing dress up in oversized men’s clothing.
Relief floods through my veins as Buns runs into the room in a blur of speed. “What happened?” she demands. The bright white oversized tank top she wears is covered in splotches of blood, but it’s obvious it’s not her own blood. She’s fully intact—no pieces of her were lost or left behind.
“Nothing! It’s okay,” Brownie assures her as she holds up her hand to stop her impending freak out. “I just killed the portal so all of Sheol can’t follow us here.”
Behind Buns, Zephyr limps into the room from a doorway that leads to a kitchen. The hollow part of my gut twists. His cuts aren’t bleedin’ now, but they’re everywhere and have taken on the appearance of dents in an old rusted coffee can. Like me, he got to keep his clothes because he was magically shoved into the portal by Brennus and didn’t have to shapeshift to get here, but everything he’s wearing is cut up and gory.
I raise my chin to him in greeting. “You okay?” I inquire.
He frowns, like it’s a dumb question. “I’m a Power,” Zephyr replies.
“Right.” I look ‘round the room; it’s a log cabin in that it’s made of, but it’s not rustic or lackin’ in any amenities. Long glass doors and windows overlook a calm, frozen lake outside. The porch that wreaths ‘round the back of the house would be great for sittin’ and playin’ an old guitar, singin’ songs ‘round the outdoor fireplace. They’d probably be blues songs, though. I don’t think I’m capable of singin’ anythin’ but the blues now. “Whose house is this?”
“Mine,” Zephyr says.
“Nice.” I grimace as I get to my feet, holding the towel to my side. “That was kind of crazy back there,” I add with my thumb over my shoulder.
Buns goes pale. “Sweetie, Zee said Emil opened Sheol.”
I pull the towel away from my stab wound, probing my side gently to see that the edges have already closed over. “Yeah, I didn’t know it’d be like that.”
“Like what?” Brownie asks.
I shrug to cover for the fact that just thinkin’ ‘bout it makes all the hairs on my arms stand on end. “You know, like there is just a very thin veneer of our world between us and them—like wallpaper.”
“You didn’t know that?” Anya’s green eyes fix on me. I shake my head mutely. “Where did you think Hell was?” Anya asks.
“I thought it was a lot farther away—you know, like literally somewhere down below, but it’s not! It’s just behind every gray day, every sunset—every friend turned enemy—”
“So is Heaven,” Anya assures me. “It’s there, too.”
“Emil just tore away my blinders! He cut the air with a knife—it’s not even a crappy metaphor—literally, a knife!” I begin to freak out inside and I can’t calm down. Wiping my hand through my hair, I start to pace in front of the window.
“He has a key to Sheol,” Buns says. She sits on the arm of the cream-colored sofa in the middle of the room, watchin’ me. “That means there’s a knife that opens Heaven, too.”
I stop, turnin’ to look at her. “How do you know that?” A shiver of fear runs crookedly through me.
“Sweetie, there’s no Yin without Yang.” She glances at Zephyr, “Who’d have it?”
Zephyr thinks for a moment. “That is an excellent question for Phaedrus. He is well-equipped to locate what’s hidden.”
“Why would you want a key to Heaven,” I ask, and then pause when they all turn to look at me like I’m insane. I hold up my hand. “I mean, except for the obvious reasons!”
Zephyr answers, “Emil just opened a window to elicit help from Sheol. Because he acted first, we’re entitled to do the same. Balance.”
My frown turns ugly. “I know why I’m here—it’s not about Evie, it’s Emil. No way he gets to live. NO WAY!” I shake my head. “He doesn’t get another lifetime. Can we destroy a soul? You’re reapers.” I wave my hand back and forth between Buns and Brownie. “Is there a way to end a soul so that it never gets to Sheol or Heaven? I want him to have zero chance of comin’ back.”