My spirit lifts from my body. I gaze back at the beaten shell of a crushed young woman, lifeless upon a bed of straw. Reed’s feather is still clutched in her gnarled fingers. Surprise shows on some of the angel faces at my ability to liberate myself from my body so quickly without the assistance of a Reaper.
The air grows denser with the swirl of a storm and the heaviness of unspent electricity. Crackling thunder cuts the air outside. A black booted figure emerges from the darkness. Steam rises off the rain-sodden head of the Seraph. I cannot smell him, but if the wrinkled noses of the divine angels are any indication, then he must reek. Even so, he’s brutally handsome with his slicked-back black hair and dark brown eyes. Bare-chested, his crimson wings rest behind him in a casual mien, as if he hadn’t just walked into a nest of killers who’d be only too happy to end him in the most painful way possible. He extracts a handkerchief from the pocket of his trousers. I recognize his attire as being part of a British officer’s uniform — similar to what Xavier wears. I try to stifle the need to ask him where he procured the uniform.
Wiping beads of water from his face, Byzantyne peers up at me. He shakes the water from his wings as he lofts into the air. “Simone,” he says as he approaches me. “You look divine.” His smile is rueful.
I feel the need to shiver, even though I don’t possess a body at the moment. “Byzantyne, forgot your umbrella?”
“I was in a hurry. I wasn’t expecting this summons. Something went awry, did it?”
“Depends on how you look at it.”
“This is, indeed, interesting timing. I just left Xavier. He isn’t faring well, I fear. I daresay he won’t be joining you. Ever.”
“You know what I remember the most about all of my afterlives, Byzantyne?” I ask.
“That I nearly always win?”
“That you enjoy lying to me.”
“I would never lie to you. I have only the utmost respect for you. I always tell you that one day I will possess your soul.”
“Why am I so important to you?”
“Because you’re important to Xavier…or at least you were. Sorry he couldn’t meet you at your rendezvous at the bridge. He was otherwise engaged.”
Fear makes my glowing light pulse in thumping beats. I try to control it. The light from me strobes Byzantyne’s face, making his features more pronounced, and then deeply shadowed. “I never made it to the bridge.”
“I can see that,” Byzantyne replies. He turns in circles, assessing the holy host of angels before him.
“Xavier had become more and more predictable the longer he stayed with you. He allowed us to kill your soul mate right away in this round. It wasn’t even fun for us. Casimir just let the chlorine gas take Nicolas. You should’ve seen it though, Simone—Nicolas clutching your picture as he struggled to take his last breath. In that way, it was an exquisite death.”
I try to ignore the gruesome images that evokes. “I know Xavier is alive. I would feel it if he weren’t.”
“Would you? I wonder how long it will take me to inspire such loyalty in you when you become mine.”
“I’ll never be yours.”
“That sounds like a challenge.” Without looking away from me, Byzantyne barks out, “Why has no one released my property from his meat sack?” he indicates Emil’s dead body on the ground.
A Throne responds, “That’s not our concern. It can rot in there for all we care.”
Byzantyne’s eyelids hood, and then he gazes at me. “It’s a little embarrassing that you can transition so easily, Simone, and Emil cannot. But,” he sighs, “Emil makes up for his shortcomings in sheer brutality, wouldn’t you agree?” He’s playing with me. He’s in a cheerful mood, as if he has a horrible secret that he just can’t wait for me to find out. I feel like I’m melting. What if what he said about Xavier is true?
Byzantyne directs his attention at the divine angels. “Which one of you has stolen this life from Sheol?” he demands.
“I am responsible for sending your killer home early,” Reed replies without emotion.
“A Power has gone rogue! What has this world come to when you cannot trust a divine Power to play by the rules?” Byzantyne shrugs. “Alfred!”