Heart and Soul by Jackie May (reading list .TXT) 📗

stepped outside on a dark, moonless night, only there are no stars in the sky, because somewhere up there in the black, three stories above me, is a domed ceiling.

“We’ve been briefed, Agent Davies,” says one of the guards. “We’re at your disposal.”

“Good. Now get the hell out.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they both reply, before filing out and closing the hatch behind them.

Way out there in the middle of the hold is a lone spotlight shining down on a hospital bed, where Arael Moaz lies completely still. The only signs of life are his raspy, labored breaths that fill the chamber with ghostly echoes. I recall what Hillerman told me about the Deep world, which exists in the same space as the real world, but is invisible to our eyes. Is Arael’s horde of Deep minions crowded around him now, climbing over each other to get a look at me? Licking their lips? Pushing into my mind?

My heart hammers a triple beat for each of my footsteps as I approach the bed. Arael’s eyes are open, but they don’t acknowledge me. Looking into the corners of the hold, I see tiny green lights blinking. I bring the walkie-talkie to my lips. “What’s the holdup? I said I want all audio feeds cut. Do it now, or I get every single one of you reassigned to the ogre squad in Buffalo.”

The green lights blink once, then turn red.

“Just you and me, gramps.”

A low, insidious laugh rolls quietly through the chamber. It takes me a moment to realize that it’s coming from Arael’s barely-parted lips. My flesh crawls at the sight of his black eyes set deep into a wrinkled face that wants desperately to slide down his skull into the folds of his neck.

“Wanna tell me the joke?”

“I knew you’d come.” I’m taken aback by his voice, which is strong and clear—not wheezy and frail, like the last time I heard him. “I was hoping it would happen this way. That they’d get to him first, so you’d come to me with a vengeance.”

“Oh, you’re talking about your people going after Brenner last night? Yeah, that didn’t go so well for your team. The silverback got another face full of lead. He won’t be passing through airport security ever again. You’re sounding good, though. I see they’ve spared no expense keeping you alive.” Hooked up to his IV stand are two canisters of glowing orange liquid. I’m guessing it’s some sort of fey elixir meant to extend life. “Pretty harsh, seeing as how all you wanted for Christmas was to die. Now that’ll never happen.”

He scowls. “Never is a word you are unqualified to use. Understand this. Time is reckoned only by mortals such as yourself. For us, time does not exist. As measured in your finite time, there is no end to the grievance between you and me, see? There is only one end, and that is with death to you and yours. It could be tomorrow, or next year, or ten years from now, when you’re tucking little ones into bed. My horde doesn’t ever sleep, nor do their memories ever fade, nor do they ever grow weary of vendetta. Until your suffering is complete, a hundred years would not end it. A thousand years would not end it.”

“How about a million years? I’d have to think that a million years…I mean, c’mon.”

Arael blinks, and an exasperated sigh hisses through his lips. A part of my pride is tickled to know that my powers of annoyance extend even to demon horde masters.

“But look, I’m not here to talk about me. I’m here to talk about my job”—I glance at the tiny lights again, to make sure they’re still red—“which is to take you back into FUA custody, because I no longer trust the loyalties of Special Agent Hillerman. I know she’s one of you.”

At last, Arael’s gaze moves. His dead shark eyes latch onto mine.

“I know she’s not from your horde,” I elaborate, “but still.”

“She belongs to no horde.”

“Either way.”

“Either way,” he parrots, “you see the hypocrisy in it.”

“Oh, she’ll be dealt with, trust me. But right now I need you to tell me how it works. If she’s possessed by some demon, is she also still herself? Is the real Charlotte still in there somewhere?”

“Why would I tell you anything about it?”

“Simple. You scratch my back, I kill you in the face.”

His eyes gleam. “You would kill me?”

“It’s my New Year’s resolution.” I pull my jacket back at the waist, revealing the handgun on my hip.

“I couldn’t tell you what you want to know.”

“What do I want to know?”

“His name.”

“The name of her demon? You know him?”

“I’m a horde master. You think I earned those stripes by being a snitch? In any case, I don’t believe you’d do me the favor of killing me. Even the Agency has rules.”

“The rule of the FUA is to protect the damn FUA, and that includes protecting it from Washington. Hillerman’s up to something with you, and she’s not the sharing type. The Agency wants in, and if nobody will talk, then I’m fully authorized to take you by force, in or out of your body.”

His head rises from the pillow. “Out of my body? That, I’d like to see.”

“It’s tempting, I know.” I tap my fingers on the grip of my gun. “If it weren’t for the fact that you would haunt me afterward, right?”

His cracked lips pull into a thin smile. “It’s not what you’re thinking. There are upsides to a haunting.”

“Upsides? I can’t wait to hear this.”

“Since your act of delivering me from this body would not be met with the least bit of resistance from me, there would be no friction in our bond. I would have no negative energy on which to feed, making my connection with you rather docile. In fact, I may even be willing to completely wipe the slate clean between us.”

“Huh. Maybe it’s just me, but that sounds very much like a bribe.”

“Call it what