Hellfire and Brimstone Read online

  "Charming and hilarious... Sookie and Betsy have some competition!"

  —MaryJanice Davidson, New York Times and USA Today Best-Selling Author

  “The emotional energy was just amazing. Keep those books coming, Ms. Roquet!”

  —Kory M. Shrum, author of the Dying for a Living series

  “Roquet’s style is entertaining, and her fast-paced plots keep readers glued to the page.”

  —Monica La Porta, author of the Ginecean Chronicles

  "Darkly comic and wildly imaginative. Angela Roquet gives us an afterlife we've never seen before."

  —Kimberly Frost, best-selling author of The Southern Witch Series

  "Pocket Full of Posies has just enough laughs, lots of mystery, tons of action, some great romance, a cast you can't help but love, and a story that never lets you rest!"

  —Literal Addiction

  “Graveyard Shift is an impressive feat of imagination built on a broad knowledge of world religion. It's also great fun! No small accomplishment.”

  —Christine Wicker, best-selling author of Not in Kansas Anymore

  "Graveyard Shift is sacrilicious. Roquet's first book in the Reapers Inc. series will be a huge hit with fans of authors like J.K. Rowling and Neil Gaiman. I look forward to getting my hands on the rest of the series."

  —Lance Carbuncle, author of Grundish and Askew

  by Angela Roquet

  Lana Harvey, Reapers Inc.

  Graveyard Shift

  Pocket Full of Posies

  For the Birds

  Psychopomp

  Death Wish

  Ghost Market

  Hellfire and Brimstone

  Lana Harvey, Reapers Inc. short stories

  Dearly Departed (featured in: Off the Beaten Path)

  Hair of the Hellhound (featured in: Badass and the Beast)

  Season’s Reapings (a holiday short story standalone)

  Spero Heights

  Blood Moon

  Death at First Sight

  other titles

  Crazy Ex-Ghoulfriend

  Backwoods Armageddon

  LANA HARVEY, REAPERS INC.

  BOOK 7

  Angela Roquet

  Copyright © 2016 Angela Roquet

  Distributed by Smashwords

  All rights reserved. No part of this book shall be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the publisher. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher and author assume no responsibility for errors or omissions. Neither is any liability assumed for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  For the readers who have been with me and Lana from the very beginning. None of these books would have happened without you. I hope you all find what you’re looking for, in this life and the next.

  Chapter 1

  “Religion is what keeps the poor from murdering the rich.”

  —Napoleon Bonaparte

  I should have known it was going to be a shitty day from the moment I stepped inside Reapers Inc. on Monday morning and saw a perky nephilim sitting behind Ellen’s desk. The winged bimbo didn’t notice me right away, as she was fixated on the electric pencil sharpener I’d purchased for Ellen’s birthday last year. She turned the thing over in her hands and twisted her head from side to side, sending her red curls bobbing around her face. One index finger slid dangerously close to the business end of the sharpener. I hesitated before finally stumbling over my morality.

  “Well, that’s one way to get a free manicure.”

  She looked up with a start and slammed the sharpener down on the desk. “Hi—hello there. Welcome to Reapers Inc.,” she said in a perfect infomercial voice. I hated her already.

  “Where’s Ellen?”

  “Ellen?” She blinked and her plastic smile stretched wider.

  “The secretary you’re temping for. You know, the actual owner of this desk and that pencil sharpener you were trying to maim yourself with.” I raised an eyebrow expectantly.

  “Oh? Oh! Yes,” she said, her infomercial voice coming back with a vengeance. “Ellen Aries is no longer working the front desk. My name is Regina. I’m the new receptionist.” Her wings fluttered softly and tucked behind her chair as she sat up straighter. The poor thing looked like she was waiting for a cookie.

  I stared at her a moment, slack-jawed and speechless. Then I tilted my head toward Jenni’s closed office door. “Is the boss in?”

  “Do you have an appointment?” Regina asked. I snorted and headed for Jenni’s door, taking long strides lest she decide to try and stop me. Ellen would have. Apparently, that wasn’t in this one’s job description. I barged in without further warning or obstacle.

  Jenni looked up from her desk, her expression hardening as she read my body language, despite my baggy work robe. “I see you’ve met the new secretary.”

  “You’re joking, right?” I pointed out through the open door, not caring that the twit sitting at Ellen’s desk could see and hear me. “Ellen has been at this for nearly a thousand years. What grounds did you have for firing her?”

  Jenni exhaled through her nose and scowled at me. “I didn’t fire Ellen. She was reassigned.”

  “Reassigned to what?” I snapped.

  “Low-risk, freelance harvesting.” Jenni stood and walked across the room to close her office door, leaving Regina to pout at Ellen’s desk without an audience. “You forget that Ellen worked for Grim for those thousand years,” she continued in a lower voice. “The council was growing nervous about that fact, especially considering the clearance level that comes with the receptionist position.”

  I groaned and rolled my eyes up to the ceiling. “Bullshit. You never liked Ellen. Did you really think you could pass this reassignment off as simple politics, with me of all people?”

  Jenni sat down behind her desk and adjusted the collar of her white dress shirt before folding her hands under her chin. She managed to look smug and annoyed with me, all at the same time. The expression was eerily familiar. I’d conjured the same one from Grim more times than I could count.

  “We’re also short on reapers,” she said, her mild tone lacking the aggression that Grim often met me with. “The council hasn’t approved a new generation yet, so we have to make do with what we have. Ellen isn’t living up to her full potential.”

  I scoffed and grasped my hip through my robe. I didn’t wear the garment for Special Ops assignments, but the new unit I had been put in charge of was quickly becoming a joke. Kevin and I had been collecting random, oddball harvests for months now, so at least the short-staffed excuse was more believable than the notion that Ellen was untrustworthy.

  Jenni held her hands out. “If you’re so concerned about Ellen, then you can have the honor of shadowing her through her probationary week.”

  “What?” I squeaked. “I have an apprentice. You can’t dump another one on me. Isn’t there some kind of rule against that?”

  Jenni let out a haggard sigh. “Probationary week,” she repeated. “Ellen doesn’t need a mentor to play apprentice to. She had her initial training under Grim, remember?”

  “Yeah, like, a thousand years ago.” I made a face. “Besides, what if a Special Ops assignment comes up? Shouldn’t someone with a more reliable schedule shadow her?”

  Jenni’s next sigh was less annoyed and more pitying. “We haven’t had a new lead in months, Lana. The remaining rebel cells have dispersed as far as the counci
l is concerned, and the Fates don’t even request updates anymore about their missing souls. They’ve come to grips with their losses, and it’s time we do too.”

  Heat filled my cheeks, but I kept eye contact with her. “So that’s it then? The war’s over, and now everyone wants me to just sink back to my rightful place at the bottom of the barrel?”

  Jenni looked pained. It was no big secret that the CEO position could have easily been mine if I’d really wanted it. I’d pushed for Jenni to take the helm, and it was too late to retract my endorsement now. Not that I’d want to. Just thinking about all the paperwork gave me a headache—but that didn’t mean I was willing to settle for pocket-change harvests.

  I could see the wheels turning in Jenni’s mind as she tried to find a way to smooth things over. “I’ll arrange a nice bonus for shadowing Ellen,” she said, fingering a stack of papers on her desk. Her brow furrowed and she looked down, choosing to focus on some random file other than my scowl. “You should consider reapplying for the Posy Unit soon. Asha Dipika is eager to transfer back to the Mother Goose Unit, and it might be the only opening for some time. The best I can do for you beyond that is medium-risk harvesting. You don’t have enough credits at the academy for high-risk work.”

  My shoulders slumped. I didn’t know what I had expected. She was right, of course. There was no need for the Special Ops Unit, but it didn’t make hearing it out loud any less discouraging. Sure, Grim and Seth were both missing. But they hadn’t been spotted in Eternity for nearly a year. Not since the last Oracle Ball. And then there were the missing factory souls that everyone besides me was ready to give up on. But without a lead, there wasn’t much I could do, short of wandering both sides of the graves with my thumb up my ass.

  Jenni mistook my silence for consent. “I’ll have Regina merge your workload with Ellen’s.” She pressed the intercom button on her desk phone, and I heard Regina’s yip of surprise through the office door, followed by hurried footsteps.

  “Yes, President Fang?” she answered breathlessly through the speaker.

  Jenni frowned but her tone remained neutral. “I don’t suppose I have to repeat that, do I?”

  “No, President Fang. I’ll just… I’ll… merge schedules?”

  “Yes,” Jenni said, biting off the word with more heat.

  Regina giggled nervously. “How do I do that again?”

  I smirked before turning my back on Jenni and heading for the door. “Oh, yes. I can definitely see how this reassignment is going to increase productivity.” I twisted around to give her a mocking thumbs up before showing myself out.

  Back in the lobby, Regina was a flustered mess, surrounded by open manuals and disarrayed schedules. She gave me a pathetic look as I drummed my fingers on Ellen’s desk.

  “One more minute,” she pleaded. “I-I know I can get this right.”

  I opened my hand. “Give them to me. I’ll sort it out on my own.”

  She made a dejected face, but it wasn’t very convincing. I could tell she was more relieved than anything. I didn’t care. I just needed to get out of there before I took the damn pencil sharpener to her myself.

  Chapter 2

  “Everything is possible, from angels to demons to economists and politicians.”

  —Paulo Coelho

  Limbo City wore autumn like a fine dress. Buckets and window boxes full of bright chrysanthemums were spaced down every sidewalk. Some were adorned with glittery ribbons or white string lights that reflected off the store windows and gave the city a romantic aura.

  A nephilim street vendor outside the Phantom Café was selling paper cups of roasted nuts and pumpkin seeds when Ellen and I arrived. The sweet, warm scent mingled deliciously with the smell of freshly brewed coffee as the café’s front door swung open. There was a line inside, so I made a quick detour for the nut cart. Ellen reluctantly joined me.

  “How can you stand these things?” she whined, tugging at the collar of her new robe. “They itch something awful.”

  “Get a good fabric softener,” I said over my shoulder as I paid the vendor and took a salt-crusted cup from him. I popped an almond in my mouth and offered the cup to Ellen as we entered the café and took our place in line.

  She shook her head and put a hand over her stomach. “I’m too nervous to eat. I haven’t been on the mortal side in centuries, and I nearly flunked my L&L exam before that.” Her face crumpled, dragging down the corners of her crimson-polished pout. “Jenni can’t really expect that I’ll have the hang of this in a week’s time. Can she?”

  I stuffed a handful of nuts in my mouth to avoid having to give a legit answer and made a noncommittal noise, adding half a shrug for good measure. I continued my nervous munching as we were directed to a table and a waiter rushed over to take our order.

  “A skinny mocha latte,” Ellen said in her honey-sweet secretary voice. So much nicer than the newbie imposter’s.

  I held up two fingers to let the waiter know I’d take the same, rather than telling him so with my mouth full. He hurried off to fill our order, prompting Ellen to switch back to her whining tone.

  “I want my desk back. Do you think Jenni will change her mind if that birdbrain doesn’t work out?”

  I shrugged again, feeling too dejected by my own demotion to offer Ellen any hope. Changing the subject was the best I could do. “Are you coming to the poker game tomorrow night?”

  Ellen’s nose crinkled. “Is it going to be on the ship again?”

  “Yup. Unless you want to play hostess.”

  “You know I can’t.” She pushed out her bottom lip. “Duster doesn’t do well with company. It would probably cause him to ignite prematurely.”

  “Only if it means taking out one of your guests,” I said with a smirk. Ellen’s toy phoenix had a vicious disposition. He adored Ellen, but everyone else could rot in hell, and he took it as his personal responsibility to expedite that fate.

  Our coffee arrived before Ellen could launch a defense on the bird’s behalf, and I took the opportunity to change the subject again. Distraction tactics were my specialty lately.

  “Do you want to hit up Athena’s after work? Maybe we could find you a nice turtleneck to wear under your robe to help with the itching.”

  Ellen let out a heavy sigh. “I guess.” She sipped her latte, gazing dolefully over my shoulder, and then her expression shifted suddenly with surprise. “Don’t look,” she hissed under her breath as I turned to see what had caught her attention. I froze and sat rigid in my seat, waiting for her to explain.

  “Good morning.” Maalik’s rich, brooding voice rose above the din of the café. I felt my face warm as I glanced over my shoulder, spying the angel as he slid into the booth behind me.

  “Morning,” I echoed back, instantly regretting that I’d acknowledged him at all.

  We hadn’t said much more to each other than civil nothings since my hearing with the Afterlife Council last spring, when he’d let me walk into a room set for my execution. Strings had been pulled at the last minute to pardon me, but not by him. His priorities were more focused on following rules—rules I liked to bend too often for his taste. That discrepancy had more than a little to do with the death of our working relationship, not to mention our romantic one.

  Ridwan, Maalik’s brother angel and another member of the Afterlife Council, slid into the seat opposite Maalik. His eyes smoldered as they landed on me, and his face twisted with rage before struggling to feign indifference.

  “Two cups of black coffee,” he ordered for the both of them when a waiter stopped at their table.

  A sad smile tugged up one side of my mouth before I could resist. “No zombie chocolate lattes these days, huh?”

  Maalik mirrored my smile with a small one of his own, but he didn’t say anything else before turning around in his seat to face Ridwan, his silvery wings fluttering softly as they settled against the back of the booth. I turned around too, giving Ellen a look that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than
let’s get the hell out of here. Now.

  As we headed down Eternity Avenue toward the travel booth on the corner, Ellen sucked more enthusiastically at her latte, her eyes gleaming with hunger. Gossip always improved her mood. Unfortunately, it didn’t have the same effect on me.

  “What?” I finally snapped as we stepped inside the travel booth, unable to take her eyeballing any longer.

  “I didn’t say anything.” Ellen grinned innocently before taking another long drink from her to-go cup. “But if I had, it would be to comment on how nicely the Keeper of Hellfire’s wing has healed up, after he risked his life to help you take down the ghost market—”

  “I didn’t ask for his help,” I said through clenched teeth. “He took over the assignment.”

  I left off the part about how Bub had saved my life in the end, while Maalik was incapacitated. The Afterlife Council didn’t trust the Lord of the Flies, even after his name had been cleared, and he’d been barred from helping with the assignment. Not that that had stopped him from tagging along in the shadows.

  Retirement had placed way too much free time on Bub’s hands. I was reminded every time I spotted one of his tiny foot soldier flies following me around. The spying would have rubbed me wrong if I wasn’t so certain it was to aid rather than condemn me, though the thought that one of those buggy spies might be reporting my encounter with Maalik was enough to fill my face with heat.

  “You okay, sweetie?” Ellen touched my shoulder. “Doesn’t look like your latte went down too well. I told you not to chug it.”