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| Soul Fountains Schemes by Beki Yopek |
I soared out of the hell divide that connected my home city of New Purgatory with the city of Fountainia. The eight foot circular portal was carved into the side of the Motery Center building at the fortieth story so the incoming banker demons and usher angels could see the entire city and view how mote production was going at a single glance. Fountainia’s north side brimmed with ziggurats and structures that combined ancient design with heavenly modernity. Its south side looked like a graffiti’d future sci-fi city more likely to spit out flying beater cars than thousands of demons working for The Soul Fountains.
There was no sign of The Reaper anywhere I could see.
Ten stories of intricate carvings covered the haloxite bowls that made up The Soul Fountains in the square below me. Yesterday’s souls from Nepal and New York still crowded the space set up for separating the soul from its swirling life force. While the usher angels led souls into the waters, banker demons counted the red and white motes that rolled down from the fountain tops into bins at their desks. Once a soul had been filtered through the Fountains, the usher angels at the back read off of clipboards and directed the stripped souls to their fates through hell divides and heaven lanes leading to the Circles and Rivers.
I swooped in a “J” shape, touched down next to a demon sitting behind a desk, and still couldn’t see Reap with my bare eyes. A glance at my Hades watch told me it was almost two o’clock pm on a Saturday. The banker dropped a wingful of motes-crimson and ivory coins the size of a half-dollar-into a bin, then stood and looked me down and up. “Payday was yesterday, Ms. Vasaga. Did you drink all the life force out of your motes already?”
I cocked a hip and showed her the mote bracelet Nia had made me earlier, with a three-quarters-full red mote bound to my dark skin. “It’s not motes that I need. Could you do something for me?”
She nodded and perked up for a second, then swapped the intrigued expression for a pro smile. “He’s behind me, isn’t he?”
The Reaper cackled from a foot behind her. “It works, Avaline. Nobody saw the scythe either. Brimvisibility is spectacular. What gave me away?”
She turned and squinted at the space where The Reaper wasn’t. “Rumors and The Reaper’s robes flopping around like fish. Everyone saw Niariel arrive at your office the other day, and we’ve seen you and Ava unload souls before. The set-up was obvious, I just didn’t know what your endgame was until the robes announced your presence.”
I quirked an eyebrow at her and kept silent. It looked like The Reaper’s plan of doing the right things to spread rumors was working. If Soul Fountain staff was talking about all the goings-on at Reap’s office, The Coalition would get word soon. My reputation as bodyguard numero uno still held strong too. The only thing wrong was I hadn’t thought ahead enough.
Looks like I’ll have to find a way to silence Reap’s robes before I fly back to Terrence’s place for more angel with benefits time. After six days of work, I needed to lose myself. With him sliding his arms around me, pretending he was helping me stretch with his too familiar hands. His hips pressing against me always told another story, and that was the story I craved more than anything else.
I breathed the hearty scent of fresh souls and fake frowned. “Good job. Now I have to report The Reaper for hexual harassment.”
The banker snorted and Reap rasped, “Next time, you owe me motes when you crack terrible jokes like that. This isn’t a spell. You told me it was a--”
“Let’s get to work, shall we?” I interjected. “Harvest time’s in thirty minutes and we’ve got Hildariel to train.”
“Right on, Ms. Vasaga. Motes are piling up. Thanks for the scary-not-scary time.”
With that, she sat back down and The Reaper and I took off for his office. We flew straight up and arced to the side when we hit the thirteenth story, then landed on Reap’s office balcony where the new glass windowpane read, “The Reaper. Collector Of Souls.” I heard my boss’s huge seven foot self land next to me, mainly because his robes fluttered and his tarsals clacked against the marble.
The door opened and I strode in, flicking on the lights and crossing to the file cabinets on the right. Firelight LEDs flickered to life overhead and I rooted around for the next labeled folder and papers in line. Reap closed the door behind me and I heard him sitting down in his high-backed chair covered in carvings. I spun with my hands full and found nothing in the chair for a moment. Then Seversoul appeared when The Reaper set it on the desk longways and took his grip off the haft. “Do you remember who was with Avarice during the ’38 boxing match at Yankee Stadium?”
I sat across from the boss and nodded. “Avarice led Voracity and Apathy’s lazy ass there for some downtime. They didn’t know we’d cleaned the place of souls before they arrived, so the Seraph Police Department couldn’t do anything to stop us fighting.”
The empty air ahead of me spoke in an earthquake’s whisper. “I suspect Avarice is not heading The Coalition anymore. Leadership may have changed as early as the Korean War. Write this down.”
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