For the Birds Read online

  Babi was the god of baboons. He was also known as being a horny death deity.

  I leaned in closer to her, letting the sounds of traffic insulate our conversation. “I’m sure you’ve heard about Atropos’ shears being stolen by now. Hades’ place was ransacked too. Maybe it’s the same thief. Maybe when they’re caught, your headdress will be recovered too.”

  Ammit nodded slowly. “Yeah, that had crossed my mind. Even so, I doubt I’ll get my job back. Osiris was pissed. Isis wouldn’t even look at me.” She welled up again.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” She rubbed under her eyes, trying to repair the sad state of her makeup. “Maybe I’ll move to the city. I could find a job that isn’t in an office. I could start my own business. I think I could be good at other things.”

  “Yeah?”

  I gazed out the cab window, wondering what it must be like to be able to walk away from a job and a life and start over fresh somewhere else. It was a fantasy that ached too much to indulge in most days, but I couldn’t help myself sometimes. With Ammit sitting next to me so full of possibilities, it was hard not to fantasize right along with her, and it was hard not to resent her for the fact that her possibilities were more than just wishful thinking.

  Chapter 15

  “On a large enough time line,

  the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.”

  -Chuck Palahniuk

  I had really been looking forward to a nice, boring Sunday, but the added workload from Saturday’s delayed list screwed that daydream all to hell. The harvests were boring enough, but they were stacked on top of each other so tightly that if felt like riding through a fast-forwarded slide show that consisted of only three slides; military memorial, illness epidemic, natural disaster, played over and over again. The whole team ended up skipping lunch. It was nearing eight o’clock before we called it a day.

  Kevin and Josie went ahead and offered to deliver the souls without me again. I think they enjoyed their time together on the ship. It was the only real time they got to spend alone, seeing as how we all lived together. It made me wonder how clean the sheets in the captain’s quarters were.

  I waved them off and headed back down the dock towards Market Street, stripping off my work robe and stuffing it in my duffle bag as I went. The hounds had gone along with Kevin and Josie to keep guard over the souls in the hold. We had an extra heavy load tonight, and they were excited to be in charge of so many. Though I think Saul was staying behind more for the fact that he had convinced a few child souls to play fetch with him.

  It was late, but I was still surprised to only see one guard waiting at the entrance of the harbor just off the dock. It was Abe. I gave him a tired smile and a salute. “Keep up the good work, Abe.”

  He frowned at me, but followed it up with a quick nod. “Yeah, you too.”

  I stepped out onto the street, thinking that was weird. Then a deafening crack splintered through my skull. I was out before I hit the pavement.

  Chapter 16

  “I’m not afraid to die.

  I just don’t want to be there when it happens.”

  -Woody Allen

  I don’t know why I was dreaming about Craig Hogan. We were back in the dirty alley around the corner from the thrift store on the west side of the city. The scenario had changed, but the conversation was still a familiar one.

  “I could help you study for the big test coming up. You know, if you want,” he said, kicking his foot at the curb. His pale skin glowed in the streetlight, drawing out the splash of gray freckles that trailed over his nose and across his cheeks.

  It was the first time he had approached me outside of class. We’d been giving each other doe eyes across the room for months at this point.

  I tucked a curl behind my ear and blushed. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

  “Yeah?” He smiled, hunching his shoulders up.

  The alley was full of other reapers. They pushed past up, crowding in like cattle. A few faceless women were sobbing softly.

  Craig looked after them with tender eyes. “I hope they don’t mind.”

  “Mind what?” I asked.

  His eyes drew back to meet mine. “That I’m dead.”

  I looked down and realized that my hand was buried in his chest. The glow pulsed inside him, keeping rhythm with his heartbeat.

  “Do you mind?” he said.

  I took a step back, trying to tug free, but his insides stuck to me like taffy, coiling around my wrist. I tried to use my other hand to push his shoulder back, but it only sank through his flesh, becoming as entangled as the other. Craig closed his eyes and leaned in, as if to kiss me, and then I woke up.

  My mind was going off in an exhausting loop of oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. I kept squeezing my eyes shut and opening them again, waiting for the scene to change, but each time, I found myself staring into the unconscious face of Clotho. There was a split across her forehead, crusted with dried blood, and a swatch of duct tape over her mouth. She was tied to a chair across from me, and we weren’t alone.

  Next to Clotho, I could just barely make out Atropos’ silhouette. I felt someone stir beside me. It had to be Lachesis. My brain picked back up with the oh my god mantra. Someone had snagged me and brought me to the Fates’ factory, and that someone was powerful enough to best all three of the Fates. Whatever they wanted, it was a fair assumption that they were going to get it.

  My eyes adjusted to the dark slowly, until I realized we were up in the roost. A lamp hanging in the corner of the room cast out a shallow light that reflected in the pool, where a big black mass floated in the water. My heart skipped a beat, and then I realized it was the dead body of Shashthi’s cat.

  The rustle of feathers drew my attention to the outer wall of the roost. Dozens of storks huddled in against each other. I could only see the edge of a wing or gleam of a beak poking out of the shadows here and there, but their disgruntled coos vibrated through the room. The tall arched windows had been covered in chicken wire, trapping them inside with us.

  The hatch on the far side of the pool opened, bringing new panic and light with it from the room below, and someone came up to join us.

  He—she—it just didn’t make sense. For a split second I saw strawberry curls like Lachesis’, but they quickly fell into a wave of shiny black hair, and then shrunk up into a dirty blond crop. At the same time, I saw eyes flicker through a kaleidoscope of colors and a nose elongate and shorten like Pinocchio couldn’t quite make up his mind on fibbing about something.

  A flutter of black wings snapped me out of the hypnosis. Caim appeared in the room with the shifter, and my heart tried to crawl out of my chest and hide under my chair. I hadn’t seen Caim since our last encounter on the Sea of Eternity. My team had slain quite a few of his demons, but he had also managed to wound us by claiming Coreen Bendura, a senior reaper whose death had essentially thrown me into my initial role of leadership.

  Caim was minion numero uno for Seth, the Egyptian god bound and determined to destroy the structure of Eternity, all because he couldn’t be king. No one had seen Seth since he fled Limbo City after his role among the rebels had been revealed. Of course, no one had seen much of any rebels since the travel booths had been put in place around the city.

  I really hadn’t been looking forward to seeing Caim again. It was easy to stand tall when he was across the sea and on a different boat. Being in the same room with him was a different story. His wings were no bigger than Gabriel’s, but they were black, thinner, and more sharply angled. Everything about him was dark, thin, and angular. He was a true protégé of Seth’s. His skin was mostly a pale gray, except where it split into a tarry black at his chin and spread down his throat, disappearing beneath his black robe. His fingertips were stained the same sticky black, like he had dirtied his hands too many times for them to ever come clean again.

  Caim’s shifter companion looked bored, even through the constantly changing faces. “
Where is my payment?” it growled in a raspy voice.

  Caim snarled, exposing his broken teeth and tarry gums. “Your job is not yet complete."

  “This job has taken long enough. I want my money now, or I blow this whole plan to hell and back.”

  Caim wielded Atropos’ shears, pointing them at the shifter’s belly, who promptly shifted into the image of Seth. I knew it was only a copy, but my stomach flip-flopped all the same at the perfect replica of the god.

  Caim laughed. “Face it, trickster. I might be playing second fiddle, but you’re just a pawn in this game.”

  My stomach turned again. Trickster? As in, the Norse god Loki? The rebels certainly weren’t being picky about the hells they recruited from, especially considering how exclusive the Egyptians could be. The Egyptians were the smallest religion to hold a seat on the Afterlife Council, and their subcommittee, the Congress of the Sphinx, was a breath away from dissolving into the melting pot of the Summerland Society, the mixed pagan subcommittee.

  Loki melted from Seth into a twin of Caim. “Perhaps you’d like to go fuck yourself?”

  Caim huffed and stuffed the shears in his robe. He turned away from his double and noticed me staring.

  “Sleeping Beauty awakes. Finally.”

  Every muscle in my body twitched and tensed as I watched him circle around the pool. He knelt down in front of me and paused, flashing his apocalypse campaign smile before ripping the tape from my mouth, letting it dangle from one side of my cheek.

  “I don’t suppose you’re going to make this easy on us, hmm?” he said.

  I swallowed, trying to slow my breathing down. At the rate I was going, I was bound to hyperventilate before even finding out what he wanted.

  Caim sighed. “Usually I enjoy drawing out the torture, but we happen to be on a tight schedule.”

  Loki, still posing as Caim’s twin, leaned back against a wall and crossed his arms. “I could go take a walk in her skin. That might yield something useful.”

  “Right. Useful. Because you’ve found out so much since you’ve been here.” Caim sneered at the god.

  “I’ll be requiring payment first.”

  I gasped as Caim shoved his hand in one of my front pockets and retrieved the coin Winston had spelled for me. Shit.

  “What do we have here? This is new.” He rolled the coin between his blackened fingers and grinned at me with dark curiosity. I still hadn’t found my voice, so all I could do was watch as he tossed it to Loki.

  In that split second, while I held my breath, I envisioned the end of Eternity. Loki would vanish. He would close his eyes and open them in the throne realm. He would find Winston, and we would all be lost. Royally screwed. That’s what we were.

  Loki snagged the coin out of the air. I waited, still holding my breath, but nothing happened.

  “There. Consider yourself paid. Now take a walk.”

  I almost passed out from relief. If I ever found my way out of this mess, I would have to ask Winston about the coin. Did it only work for me? Did the tosser have to be the catcher as well? It didn’t matter. The debris of Eternity snapped back like a slingshot, stabilizing my horror fantasy, and all was right again. Well, except for the part where I was tied up with the Fates and at the mercy of a rebel demon.

  Loki glanced over the coin and tucked it away. He waited for Caim to move aside, and then he took his place, kneeling down in front of me.

  The moment our eyes locked, my head began to swim. The image of Caim that he had adopted melted away like a layer of wax, and for a split second, I saw his true face. It wasn’t pretty. He looked like Marty Feldman with an underbite and out of control eyebrows.

  My breathing took off again as he grasped my chin and rotated my face around. I squeezed my eyes shut, cringing against his touch. When I opened them, I was staring back into a reflection of myself.

  “Is there anything duller than playing a reaper?” he groaned. “I swear, even the humans lead more entertaining lives.”

  Caim waited for Loki to disappear down the hatch before turning his soulless eyes back on me. “Why don’t you be a good girl and just tell me where Grim keeps his prize soul, hmmm? You could save us both some trouble, and I could be gone before that worthless heap of Norse trash makes it back.”

  I tried to look confused, but I was numb, frozen in disbelief and horror. I couldn’t have gotten the words out even if I had known what to say to him.

  “Grim’s. Prize. Soul,” he said slowly, sliding his tarry fingers up my thighs and digging them in deeper with each word. His nails sliced through my jeans like razors and I felt my flesh split open. My breath rushed out faster. He drew closer, filling my line of sight with his black, broken grin. I turned my face away, closing my eyes. The storks cooed louder as the wind whistled through the chicken wire.

  “Tell me,” Caim whispered. “Tell me, so I have a reason to spare you.” His fingers loosened on my thighs and crept up my stomach, snaking over my breasts, finally resting around my neck.

  I opened my eyes again, taking in a shuddering breath before his thumb pressed into my throat. The room flashed darker and brighter, keeping time with my pulse as it throbbed in my temples. I thought that I might pass out. I wanted to pass out.

  Just then, Clotho decided to come to. Her wide blue eyes flashed open, and she blinked stiffly like a toy doll. She groaned, taking inventory of her condition.

  Caim released me and turned his attentions to her, dancing over to jerk the tape away from her mouth so she could join the conversation.

  “You are so dead,” Clotho roared at him. She pulled at her restraints more fiercely than I had, but they wouldn’t give.

  Caim threw his head back, howling in delight, almost in awe of his own boldness, and then he put that prize smile of his right down in her face. “Promises, promises.”

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing? When Zeus hears of this, he’ll hunt you down. Your head will be mounted on an Olympian wall by the end of the week.”

  The storks squawked at the voice of their fearless leader. One brave bird hopped closer, stabbing at Caim’s arm with its beak. Caim hissed, snatching the delicate creature by the neck.

  “No!” Clotho strained against her ropes.

  Caim gave the bird a shake. It struggled in his grasp, losing feathers in a halo on the floor. The thing lit up brighter in its panic. It looked like it had been feasting on souls all day, and for all I knew, it had been. I could see the same thought creep across Caim’s face as he retrieved Atropos’ shears from his robe again.

  “What are you doing?” Clotho shrieked at him.

  Caim stepped away from her chair, taking the stork with him. He knelt down on his knees and pinned the bird’s head to the concrete floor, shuffling in his robe some more. I immediately recognized Ammit’s crocodile headdress. Caim set it on the floor and positioned it towards the stork. Then he took the shears and cut the stork’s throat, severing its head in one quick motion.

  Clotho lost it. The pupils and whites of her eyes went black like the night had just possessed her. She sucked in a ragged breath and screamed. I couldn’t look away. It was too terrible. It was too incredibly awful to peel my eyes from the scene that would no doubt haunt my darkest nightmares for years to come.

  Black blood pooled around the stump where the stork’s head used to be, and from the blood rose a pale steam. It coiled and spiraled through the air, humming and gurgling the soft music of innocence that waifs through maternity ward nurseries. The eyes of Ammit’s headdress slowly came to life, glowing green in the dark room. Its sharp jowls wedged open, and the freshly spilled souls were sucked down in a one long yawn of a swallow.

  The room was suffocating. Clotho’s grief and Caim’s excitement spiraled around me, a nauseating blend that took my breath away. Caim was shaking with quiet laughter. He reached down and ran his fingers through the stork’s tacky blood. The rest of the flock cooed forlornly, huddling in tighter to one another with a collective shiver. Clot
ho’s screams finally tapered off, fading into a raw sob as her chin dropped to her heaving chest. She stared vacantly at the floor.

  A door slammed downstairs and Caim’s attention jerked away from his kill. A soft growl stirred in his throat.

  “Clotho! You up there?” It was Asmodeus. I sucked in a breath, hesitating in my excitement, and it was a split second steeped in regret. Caim stood and slapped the tape back over my mouth so hard that I tasted blood mixed in with the bitter adhesive. I rocked in my chair, pulling against the ropes that bound me, until Caim’s fist cracked against my temple. The chair rocked some more with the impact, but I stayed upright.

  The storks were cooing anxiously again. Caim turned away from me and silently replaced Clotho’s tape too. She didn’t move, didn’t blink. She had just abandoned herself, drifting off to wherever a goddess goes when she’s lost her mind entirely. Caim wound around the pool, carefully avoiding the light cast into the room through the hatch. When he stopped behind the door, he loosened a satchel hanging from his robe and pulled out a helmet. It was silver with two short crested rows of black feathers. He pulled it over his head and vanished.

  Hot tears filled my eyes and ran down my cheeks, wetting the edges of the duct tape before they trickled down my chin. I wanted to scream out to Asmodeus, but I could barely manage a whimper. A tiny fly rested on the end of my nose, and then a cool hand brushed down the side of my neck. I trembled.

  Beelzebub looked over my shoulder and pressed a finger to his lips. “Shhh. This might hurt a bit, love,” he whispered, just before ripping the tape from my mouth.

  Chapter 17

  “It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent. It is the one that is most adaptable to change.”

  -Charles Darwin

  My mouth fell open, and I choked down a painful breath. “He has the Helm of Hades. We have to warn Asmodeus.”