Sins of the Soul

“Only about a dozen of them. I’ve yet to seduce the rest. But hope springs eternal.”


“Sod off. Look, I want you to see if you can find out why they’re so interested in Lokan’s death.” He did a quick rundown of the events in the alley and the fact that the fire genies had been unexpected additions to the melee. “It’s nagging at me, and you know how I am with things that don’t fit in their proper place.”

“That I do, bro,” Mal said. “Exactly what were you doing in that alley?”

“Reconnaissance.” Alastor brought him up to speed on Butcher’s darksoul and the Shikome.

“Centipedes?” Mal asked at one point, then fell silent as Alastor explained the rest.

“I hope to go to Izanami and find a way to gain access to the information locked in Butcher’s bloody sodding darksoul.” In order to do that, Alastor needed Naphré to accompany him. “The way the Shikome showed up tonight in the alley makes me think time is of the essence.”

Which made no sense. Though days had passed Topworld, in Izanami’s realm it would be more like minutes. So why the bloody hell was the Shikome so anxious?

“You’re actually planning to go there? To Izanami’s territory?” Mal asked.

“Yeah, I bloody well am.” He’d been following Naphré tonight, trying to decide whether to ask nicely if she’d like to go on a little trip to the Underworld, or just grab her. He still hadn’t made up his mind as to which approach was best. “You’re planning to go to Osiris’s realm,” he pointed out.

“Different situation entirely.”

True. Mal was being sent to Osiris by Sutekh’s decree as part of the hostage exchange for the meeting of allies, whereas Alastor had no doubt that Sutekh was feeling less than jolly about his own intent to visit the Shikome.

“Besides, Osiris is part of my grand plan,” Mal said.

“And it appears that Izanami is now part of mine,” Alastor said. “You share your plan with Sutekh?”

“Did he share his with us?”

Of course Sutekh had a plan. Alastor had no doubt of that. But he hadn’t shared it with his sons. Not yet.

“Speaking of plans…” Alastor said. “I got to thinking about the boxes of bones and frozen body parts, and the photographs of the victims that Dagan and I found in Joe Marin’s basement. What if those murders weren’t the work of one man alone? What if they were sanctioned?”

“You’re thinking that maybe none of this was about Joe Marin’s personal proclivities? That maybe what you found in that basement was bigger than that? Say, the size of a worldwide cult.”

“I think it’s a possibility. Unfortunately, the gentleman in question is unavailable to confirm.” Joe Marin was dead, his heart and darksoul harvested by Dae. They hadn’t pried much information out of him before the kill, and Sutekh hadn’t found anything coherent in the darksoul when he’d taken it inside himself. “But then, I come across this drugged girl,” Alastor continued, “and I get to thinking, what if there’s someone else out there doing the Setnakhts’ dirty work?”

“So you think there’s a Setnakht murdering human women. What does that have to do with Lokan?” Mal asked.

“We know there’s a link between Lokan’s death and the Setnakhts. That Xaphan and his concubines are inordinately interested in Lokan’s demise.” They also knew that Lokan’s daughter, Dana, had been in Toronto the night her father was killed. But that last point he didn’t voice aloud. He was taking no risks that somewhere, somehow, he would be overheard.

“So what you’re really saying is that we know squat,” Mal said. “The puzzle pieces don’t fit.” He paused. “I went there, you know. To their Temple.”

Alastor was surprised that this was the first he was hearing of it. “What did you find?”

“Not a damned thing. Though they did have some lovely artifacts.”

“You didn’t.”

“Shiny, pretty things. I found a lovely little glass perfume bottle in the shape of a fish just sitting on a shelf in one of the offices. Genuine. Created long before glassblowing was invented…”

“You stole it.”

“I prefer to think of it as borrowed on a permanent basis. Couldn’t help myself. You know how I am with baubles.” Mal laughed darkly. “I hoped I’d walk in and find a neon sign that said, Lokan Krayl’s remains, this way.”

Alastor heard his brother’s pain. It matched his own.

They were both silent for a moment, then Mal said, “If Dae had his way, we’d just kill them all. Anyone who qualifies even remotely for the suspect list.”