Chapter Six
Surt defied and buffeted the wind on the terrace of his luxury apartment fifty-seven floors above Manhattan. He had a bird’s-eye view of midtown—his domain. It wasn’t much as far as domains go—hardly a speck on the map of the Universe—but it was prime real estate here.
The sun had set moments before and ribbons of yellow light were beginning to meander through the grid. Boxy buildings checkered with boxy windows created a manmade matrix of light and dark. The horizon still carried its layers of blue, mauve, and yellow. He gazed upon it with the wisdom of thousands of lives and millions of years of existence.
For it was what was under this city that he coveted. Something no one else even noticed, but something they would soon grow to dread. Like the human vessel he inhabited, the Earth was alive. Energy flowed through her, thrumming with a pulse that few felt and fewer understood. Untapped power just waiting to be triggered.
Luckily, he was one of the few. But not the only one.
A noise behind him told him he was no longer alone.
He turned as Maurice stepped up beside him. He was a big man who moved very quietly and efficiently. He didn’t talk until spoken to, he didn’t cave to pointless drama. And he rarely disappointed Surt.
“Do you have him?” Surt asked.
“No. Reya was there again,” Maurice said.
Again. He always knew that woman would come back to haunt him. If she hadn’t been so talented, he wouldn’t have even bothered with her to begin with. But he preferred to surround himself with talent and deal with the consequences later.
“Then find a time when she isn’t with him,” Surt said tightly.
“They appear to be working together,” Maurice said. “She spent the night at his apartment.”
Shit. She was forever sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. Her skills had been a blessing when she was on his side. Now, not so much. “What exactly are they working together on?”
Maurice’s shoulder twitched. “We suspect it might be the human incinerations.”
Surt expected that. They weren’t complete idiots. Set a few people on fire and the city would take notice, especially the police. Regardless, that part of the plan was not changing. He just hadn’t expected so much trouble getting his hands on Thane Driscoll.
“Find a way to separate them,” Surt said.
Maurice didn’t respond, and Surt turned to him. “Is there a problem with that?”
“Possibly,” Maurice said slowly. “He may not be as ready to come over as you think.”
“I’ve seen his soul,” Surt said. “He’ll come over. He’s one of us.”
“Convincing him of that won’t be easy,” Maurice persisted. “He may require more…incentive.”
“More incentive than having the power to control others? To judge? To be God?” he asked. “What more could he want?”
Maurice shrugged. “I’m just telling you what I see.”
As much as Surt disliked it, Maurice might be right. Driscoll was walking the line. There were no guarantees. Surt needed Driscoll to cooperate 100 percent, or the entire plan would fail.
“Fine. Bring in Darcy. She’ll convince him.”
Maurice nodded, and then disappeared.
Silence once again settled over Surt. Silence and darkness. He was still in a good position, even with Reya’s interference. Night gripped the city with an iron fist, and between the long fingers, it sparkled like the gem it was.
* * *
They walked through the front door of the nursing home and past the receptionist.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Thane said for the tenth time.
Geez, it was almost like he didn’t trust her. Reya said, “I told you, they can’t locate you if I’m here. It cloaks you.”
He gave her a hard look. “You better be right. I don’t want them anywhere near here.”
There was a flicker of light in his soul, Reya noted, when she glanced at him. For his mother. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.
She walked past the people whose souls were almost free of the bodies that held them captive. “She’s safer here than anywhere else.”
“And why is that?”
Reya waved back to an old man who gave her an angelic smile and waved his hand. “They don’t like crazy people. Too unpredictable.”
“My mother isn’t crazy,” he said tightly and turned down another corridor. “She’s just losing her memories.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Reya said, taken back a bit by his resentment. “Not all crazy people are crazy. They just see things most people can’t. Then they’re labeled insane, and it’s all downhill from there.”
“What does that have to do with hellraiders?” Thane asked as he stopped in front of a room.
Reya peered in and saw his mother in a chair facing the door. “Crazy people aren’t afraid of them. They don’t give them any power.”
Then she walked into the room. “Hello, Millie.”
The sixty-something woman grinned back at her serenely. “I knew you’d come. I’ve been waiting. Just like I was supposed to.”
There was a vibrant, dense lavender aura around Millie. She was well protected, more so than anyone Reya had ever met. There had to be a good reason for that. “Thank you.”
Thane walked over and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. Millie touched his face. “You’re safe now.”
He eyed Reya, and then turned back to his mother. “Safe from what?”
“The whispers,” she said.
Thane’s entire demeanor changed, which fascinated Reya. He became very still and very focused. She knew he could hear the voices. She just didn’t realize how much he didn’t want to.
“You’ll talk to me about them now?” he asked.
“Yes,” Millie said with a sure nod. “Sit.”
Reya dropped to a knee in front of her and took Millie’s cool hands in hers while Thane closed the door and pulled up a chair. The three of them huddled together.
“What are the whispers?” Thane asked her.
“Dead people,” Millie said, her eyes a little wild. Reya suspected she’d been keeping this secret a very long time. “They whisper in your ear. Tell you to do good things or bad things.”
Thane cut Reya a glance before asking, “So you hear them?”
“Of course,” she said. “So do you.”
“Did Dad?”
Her wild eyes fluttered a little. “No. But he tried to protect us.”
“From what? Who?” Thane said.
“Hellraiders,” Reya told him. She looked at Millie. “What do they want?”
Millie pressed her lips together and stared Reya in the eyes. “First, you must promise to take care of Thane.”
“I will,” Reya said, sensing the answer to her questions, and her salvation, were very close. “Nothing will happen to him.”
Millie looked at each of them. Then she reached into her robe and pulled out a photo. It had faded to sepia, worn and dirty around the edges. Her hand trembled as she handed the photo to Reya.
The instant her fingers touched it, Reya felt the love. It was so powerful, it swept through her in a wave. Love hadn’t been part of her life for as long as she could remember. It was warm and sweet and heartening. She held the photo delicately, afraid to damage it. It was a picture of Millie and her husband when they were young. Millie was pregnant.
“I never saw this picture,” Thane said, looking over her shoulder.
“It was taken right before you were born,” Millie said, her words lost in the past. “We were so happy. A baby coming, a house. Your father had just joined the force. Life was perfect.”
As wonderful as it was, it was just a photo, and there was nothing written on the back of the photo. Reya’s hope faded. Maybe her salvation was a lot further away than she thought. Or maybe Millie was just plain crazy.
Reya asked, “This is the reason they’re here?”
“Follow where it leads,” Millie said, her voice hushed.
Of course. Reya gave a sigh. Nothing was easy.
“Can’t you just tell us where it leads?” Thane said.
Millie gazed at him, her eyes watering. “I can’t. I don’t know where it leads. This was something your father did. He told me to give it to you when you were ready.”
Then Millie grabbed his hand with some desperation and squeezed it tightly. “You can do this, Thane. You can. You’re so strong. Too strong sometimes. Don’t forget the love we gave you.”
* * *
Thane was still reeling from the whole conversation when they got back to his place. His father knew, his mother knew. And no one told him until now? What were they waiting for?
He walked into his apartment and almost forgot about Reya behind him. She hadn’t said a word the entire time. He didn’t know if she was thinking or worried or what, and he didn’t care. At this point, he just wanted to be alone.
“I’m sure you have lots to do. Places to be. Souls to save,” he started as she dropped onto the couch.
“Forget it, I’m not leaving,” she said absently. “Where were you the night your father was killed?”
She sidelined him for a moment. “In the house.”
“Wait,” she said and pinned him with a surprised look. “You were there? When he was killed?”
“I can’t remember anything,” he told her, disgusted with himself. He wished he could, and he couldn’t. All the clues he needed were right there. He turned on the flat-screen TV and stood in front of it. “Just the whispers. I couldn’t even understand what they were saying. I just remember the sound they made.”
The news came on, and a TV reporter was on location at a chaotic scene of fire trucks and police cars. Thane gave up trying to kick her out and grabbed a bottled water out of the fridge.
“This is the fourth victim this week,” the blond reporter was saying. “No one knows how or why these people are suddenly bursting into flames. The authorities appear to be baffled by these occurrences. The only thing that’s certain is that this isn’t stopping.”
Thane pulled the photo out of his pocket and looked at it. Then up at the TV. “Are these related in any way?”
Reya stood up and walked past him. She took another water out of his fridge without asking and stood next to him. “Probably.”
He eyed her. She sounded certain, which didn’t add up because hellraiders had nothing to do with flaming humans. So the connection had to be something else, and then it clicked into place. “These hellraiders, they don’t seem too bright.”
She twisted the cap off the bottle and tossed it in the trash. “They aren’t.”
“Which means that someone has to give the orders.”
The bottle was halfway to her mouth when she froze. She recovered quickly and took a sip. “Yes.”
Damn her. She knew. “Who’s giving the orders, Reya?”
She took another longer sip, stalling no doubt. Then she licked her lips and said, “I’m not sure.”
“Bullshit,” he said and backed her up to the wall. He leaned in menacingly. This was his life on the line.
“Who is it?”
Reya glared at him. “His name is Surt.”
Thane glared back. “What is he? Demon? Devil? Fallen angel?”
A flicker of something passed her features quickly, but he caught it.
“Demon,” she said. “At least last I knew.”
“Alive or dead?”
She squinted a little in thought. “Both.”
He gave her a tired look, and she smirked. She scooted out around him. “You’re too easy, Driscoll. Surt is like me. He can be human if he wants.”
Thane held up a hand. “Honestly, not ready to hear how that happens. You know him?”
Reya’s expression hardened. “I know him.”
As ominous as that sounded, Thane was just happy to have a name to hang all his bets on. “You think he’s responsible for the hellraiders after me and the people catching on fire? How, exactly, would that miracle happen?”
“I don’t know everything,” she said, getting defensive.
“No, but you’re halfway between worlds, which is even better,” he said. “Where is Surt now?”
“Not sure,” Reya said. “I asked Orson to track him down.”
“Orson,” Thane said, sidelined. “You mentioned him before. What is he?”
“My envoy,” she said with a little wince. “I’m not supposed to tell you this. I can’t…” She looked away, her expression troubled. “It’ll cost me.”
He felt a flash of concern for her; he could tell she was being truthful. But he wasn’t backing down. “This is my life, Reya. I deserve to know what’s going on.”
She looked at him then, her eyes serious. “I’m aware of that.” For a few moments, they stared at each other, the space between them vanishing. For a split second, he almost forgot she wasn’t like other women.
He asked, “What will it cost you?”
She shook her head slowly. “Never mind. Orson goes between here and the other side. The light side.”
“Is he dead or alive?” Just because he had to ask.
“He’s not human,” she said and took the photo from him, brushing his hand and leaving heat. She walked away staring at it. “And no, he doesn’t know everything either.”
He watched her study the photo. A little crease formed between her eyebrows when she was concentrating. “How many of you are there, hanging around Earth?”
She shrugged, focused on the photo. “No idea. Not my job to keep track of them all.”
He’d bet there were more than a few. He wondered if all of them looked like her. He had to admit he liked the black pants. Tight black tank top. Long black coat. Boots up over her knees. Hard not to like that.
“How is it that no one seems to take notice of your Goth outfit?” he asked, taking a sip of his water.
“People see me in different ways. This is the way you’ve chosen to see me.” Then she turned and smiled. “You have no one to blame but yourself.”
The bottle was poised at his lips. Shit. She could probably read his mind, too.
“There’s something about this photo,” she said, holding it up to the light.
He came up behind her. There was nothing unusual about the photo except that his mother had kept it in her pocket and secret from him for thirty-some-odd years. That was very unusual.
“If I were trying to hide something from the darkness,” she thought aloud, “where would I put it?”
He shrugged. “Somewhere darkness can’t go?”
Reya turned and grinned at him. “Bingo. Do you know any priests?”
* * *
Reya hadn’t been in a church much this time around. No need to. She was already as close as she wanted to be. She had no delusions that she’d ever be an angel in the real sense of the word. She was a servant, paying her dues so she could live in the light instead of with the likes of Surt.
So she’d made her deal, and someday she’d move on to somewhere that wasn’t Earth. She’d get to “be” without worrying about anyone stabbing her in the back or betraying her. That was highly frowned upon in the more enlightened communities. Besides, she hated the smell of sulfur.
The Catholic church was solemn and quiet at 8 p.m. Services were over. A few good souls were hunkered down in the pews, repenting for all they were worth and keeping the light on the planet.
She sensed motion above her and scanned the soaring ceiling. Childlike spirits danced overhead, playing between the flying buttresses. Their movements sent the candles flickering, their laughter like the tinkle of chimes in the wind. She envied them their simple joy. Then again, they’d earned it.
An elderly priest was sweeping the floor at the front of the nave, and Thane walked directly toward him. The priest stopped when he saw Thane, and his face lit up. His hair was white and thin, his face full with rows of laugh lines around his mouth. He set the broom aside and grabbed both of Thane’s arms when he got close.
“You are the spitting image of your father,” the priest said, grinning wide.
Reya kept her distance, but saw Thane grin back. It was the first time she’d seen him smile, and it was a showstopper. Who knew? His soul light sparked and flickered nicely. It was still in there, under the dark anger and cynicism.
The two men chatted for a few minutes before Thane introduced her. “Reya, this is Father Isaac. And old friend of the family.”
“Nice to meet you, Father,” she said and shook his hand. It was soft and warm. He was a good man. A good soul. She embraced the feeling of peace and warmth. There were few places on Earth that held this kind of sanctuary.
His glance lingered on her for a few beats, as if he sensed something unusual about her. Luckily, Thane cut in.
“I know you’re busy,” he said to the priest. “But I was wondering if you could tell me anything about this old photo I found.”
Father Isaac took the photo and pulled out a pair of reading glasses. He blinked a few times at the photo, and held it up to the faint light of the candles.
And that’s when Reya saw it. She caught herself before she gasped. There was something in the paper itself. A symbol. She squinted. No, three of them—one across the top, and two below side by side. Why would they show up here and not at Thane’s place?
Father held the photo to the light. “I don’t recall seeing this picture before. It wasn’t in your family photo albums. I would have remembered. My goodness, your parents were so young.”
He couldn’t see the symbols, Reya realized. And neither could Thane, judging by the flash of disappointment on his face. She was the only one. It had to be the combination of the holy candles and her disposition.
“Do you know where it was taken?” Thane asked.
“I’m sorry, no,” the priest said.
Reya held out her hand for the photo, and he gave it to her. She asked him, “What do you make of the recent wave of people catching on fire, Father?”
He gave a sigh and shook his head, worry softening his expression. “I don’t know. I pray for it to end though. It’s good for business, don’t get me wrong.”
Reya smiled. She loved him.
“But not like this,” he added sincerely. “They were all good people. We don’t have enough of those.”
She stilled. They were all good people? Truly? That didn’t make sense. Why would Surt be interested in the good people?
While Thane said goodbye, Reya held the photo up to the church candles. Three distinct symbols appeared, and she committed them to memory before they left the building. This was the only place they’d emerge. The shapes weren’t familiar to her, but perhaps Orson would know more.
As she turned to leave, she heard children’s laughter above.