Styx & Stoned (The Grim Reality Series Book 2) (7 page)

I looked at the corner. At first I
didn’t see anything but a shadow. As I turned back to Tabris, a movement caught
in my peripheral vision, but when I glanced in that direction again, all I saw
was the dark empty corner.

“Okay, I guess I’ll trust you on
that.” I didn’t. Even though these people were from higher echelons, I doubted
Hal would cower to their demands. “So what do we do now?”

“I think you should check out the
situation for yourself.” Tabris stood. “Why don’t you call Hal?”

This was all happening so fast.
Slowly I rose, unsure my legs would hold me. “Now?”

“No time like the present,” he
said. “First, can you shut off your phones? Multidimensional travel can be hard
on electronics.”

“All right.” I fumbled with the
power button and dropped my phone into my purse, slinging it across my body.
“But I’m just calling him, right?”

“Yes, just summoning,” Tabris said,
gesturing to where he wanted me to stand.

I eyed him, a thread of wariness
winding its way through me. Mara joined me, and the rest of the group rose,
filing out to the open area of the room. Everybody watched, waiting for me to
summon my porter.

I cleared my throat. “Hal.” Nothing
happened, which was normal for him. “Hal Lee Lewya.”

A thin, pink light flashed near one
of the stone lions. I shifted, focusing on the expanding strip. It stretched
into a long line and then expanded, forming a door. The glow dimmed and the
elevator opened. In his usual style, Hal stood squarely in the center of the
car, decked out in royal blue satin pants and shirt, a gray velvet brocade
duster, and black motorcycle boots. His yellow gaze peered at me over the top
of tiny silver oval sunglasses. He looked less like a transvestite circus master,
and more like a rapper. Instead of donning one of his many vibrant hats, today
Hal wore his hair down, hanging in glossy black waves over his shoulder.
Jealousy poked at me. I’d kill for hair like that. So unfair.

“Lisa.” His deep voice filled the
room, and his gaze remained riveted on me, ignoring the others. “Not your usual
summons, I see.”

“Hey, Hal.” I clasped my hands
behind my back and shifted to my other foot. “How’s it going?”

He continued to stare at me, but
didn’t reply.

“So much for small talk.” I
released a deep breath and plunged forward. “We need your help.”

Hal’s gaze flickered to the group,
and then back to me. After several seconds, he said, “No.”

I glanced behind me, but nobody
moved to back me up. It was becoming clear that dealing with ethereal upper
management wasn’t much different than in the real world. Toss me into the lake
to see if I’d sink or swim. So, this was all on me.

I glared at Hal. “You don’t even
know what I was going to ask you.”

“You need transportation to Styx so
you can ferry the dead.” A sneer curled the corner of his mouth. “Because my
brother is being an idiot—again.”

“Uh, okay, so you do know.” The
fact that Hal already knew amped up the anxiety racing through my body. One
because of the precarious situation with the souls, but also, how the hell did
he know these things? Could Hal somehow spy on me—like when I was in the
shower, or executing my killer dance moves when I was home alone? “Why won’t
you help?”

His yellow gaze skated slowly over
the room, the sneer fixed on his mouth. “I didn’t make this mess.” He sniffed.
“Let my brother take responsibility for his actions for once.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that,” I said,
holding up my finger. “The problem is, he isn’t taking responsibility.
Actually, we can’t find him. Now the dead are spilling back into the physical
world.”

He shrugged. “Still not my
problem.”

It was clear Hal had dug his heels
in over this issue. The conflict with Charon ran deep, and it appeared he had a
long, unforgiving memory. I ran through the list of  I things could possibly
bribe him with.

“If you help, Hal…” I swallowed
hard. The things I did for this job and humanity. “I’ll let you take me for a
ride around Hell.”

Hal’s last reaper had ventured a
little too close, and Hal had snatched him up for a spin around several circles
of Satan’s playground. Currently the guy resided as a permanent resident in the
psych ward at one of Anchorage’s behavioral centers. No way did I want to end
up a drooling nutcase, but taking me for a ride in his elevator was the one
thing he constantly tried to talk me into. Either he wanted to see if I was
made of stronger stuff than my predecessor, or Hal was just a sick bastard.

My offer drew an evil grin from
him. Hal smiling is off-putting at the best of times. Today his expression held
an extra measure of wickedness. “Tempting, but still no.”

Finally, Tabris chimed in. “I don’t
think you understand the severity of the situation.”

“I understand completely.” Hal’s
fingers skimmed down the edge of his duster to a metal cylinder at his waist,
hanging from a chain belt. “If
you
truly understood the situation, you
wouldn’t have asked for my help.”

“There are times when we must put
our differences aside and act for the greater good.” One of Hell’s
representatives stepped forward. He reminded me of Nate’s porter, Pick. Dressed
in a crisp suit and tie, his shoes sparkling under the golden lights, he looked
like an attorney for the mob. “This is one of those times. Duty dictates you
help.”

“I’m not much of a team player,”
Hal growled.

Silence blanketed the room. Nobody
moved, the tension ratcheting. As the only mortal human there, I figured I had
the most to lose if some kind of supernatural rumble broke out. I understood
Hal’s position. Mara and I hadn’t been given a choice in the matter either, and
we didn’t have the turbulent history that he had with Charon. Still, I was
willing to do my part.

“So, you’re going to be a dick
about this?” I asked.

Mara’s eyes rounded and she gave me
a quick look. Tabris coughed and then cleared his throat.

“Yes, Lisa.” Hal grinned. “I’m
going to be a dick.”

I crossed my arms and hit him with
my best glower. “Jerk.”

“All your name-calling and pouting
will not change my mind,” Hal said. “So if we’re finished—”

“We are not finished.” The voice of
a woman ricocheted around the room, seemingly echoing off every wall at once.

A lot of things happened at once.
The smug expression melted from my porter’s face. The group of powerful
supernatural beings flinched in unison, turning toward the corner of the room.
And I tried to look everywhere at once, as usual, having no idea what was going
on.

Careening my neck, I peered in the
direction everybody else was looking. The shadow in the corner of the room churned,
condensing to form a woman. Ebony hair danced around her shoulders and settled
along her arms. Sooty smoke swirled over her hips and down her legs,
dissipating to leave her clothed in one killer gown. She glided across the
room, her coal-black eyes riveted on Hal.

The most movement I was willing to
risk was a glance at the other occupants. The head of every board member bent
in a slight bow, their eyes fixed on the floor. I glanced at Tabris, and then
Mara. They were doing the same thing. I never claimed to be a genius, but if
angels and demons were cowering at the sight of this woman, I probably should
too.

I bowed my head low, making it
clear I was the submissive dog in the group. In the face of supernatural power,
I found pride to be a useless commodity. Survival instinct on the other
hand—priceless.

A set of gorgeous ebony sandals
stepped into my view. My curious nature warred with my desire to remain alive,
but survival won out over peeking. It didn’t matter, though. Cold fingers
gently grasped my chin and lifted my head. We were the same height, but where I
was platinum and blue-eyed, this woman was the incarnate of darkness.

My gaze locked with hers. It was
fathomless, but not cold. Neither dead and emotionless, nor full of life. The
longer I stared, the deeper I fell. Creation, dark space, vast intelligence,
and knowledge I struggled to comprehend. She was the beginning, a part of the
greater whole. Her name slipped from my lips in a whisper. “Nyx.”

Her head tilted and she smiled.
Love and approval poured through me, and I had to blink back the tears suddenly
burning behind my eyes. Emotions surged, nearly swamping me, and I barely
managed to maintain my composure.

Her gazed roamed my face for a few
more seconds, and then lowered her hand. She turned to Hal, who still stood
silently glaring at his mother.

“She is your reaper?” Nyx asked.

He hesitated, and then defiantly
lifted his chin. “She is.”

Nxy nodded, looking back at me, her
eyes tracking down my body. “I approve. She is a good match for you.” As
quickly as she’d drawn me in, she turned, dismissing me. “You will take her to
Styx.”

Hal remained silent, not agreeing
or disagreeing with her.

“I know your grievances, Thanatos,”
Nyx continued. At the sound of his real name, Hal bristled. “I admit, I usually
do not meddle in these affairs, but as you and Charon are my sons, I feel
compelled to intervene. This situation cannot continue, and you’ve left me no
choice but to exert my authority. You will do as you’re told.” Again she cocked
her head and leveled her black eyes on him. “And you will not harm her.”

“Wait, what?” My head jerked toward
Hal. Had he been considering that? It wasn’t my fault they were making me ferry
souls. Why blame me? His teeth pulled into a feral snarl. I took a step back.
Whatever that reaction meant, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t like it.

“This will happen—now.” Nyx pivoted
and waved Mara and me toward the elevator. “You will take Lisa and Mara to Styx
so they can first assess how dire the situation is. You—” She paused, driving
her point home. “—will wait outside the gate until they return. You will not
accompany them.” Taking each one of our hands, she walked us to within a yard
of the elevator and stopped. “They are under my protection. Is that clear,
Thanatos?”

With a mocking bow, he bent low.
“Crystal clear, Mother.”

She released our hands and gestured
toward the elevator.

No, no, no, no.
My body refused to move.
Self-preservation demanded I get in the elevator, but paralyzing fear rendered
me immobile. Crazy how strong terror can be. Here I was, in a room full of
beings that could probably think me out of existence, but what terrified me
most was getting in an elevator with Hal.

Thank God for Mara. She grasped my
hand and pulled me forward. With tiny steps, we closed the short distance. Bile
crept up my throat and I was sure that’s where it would stay. Hal’s eyes boring
into me didn’t help. Mara entered first, and then turned and tugged me forward.
Forcing my right foot to step across the elevator threshold was one of the
toughest things I’ve ever done. The hardest? Taking that second step.

When Nate first laid out the ground
rules after I became a reaper,
never let your porter touch you
was a
biggie. I took that to mean that Hal wasn’t the only porter with a perilous
streak. But nevertheless, here I was, standing less than three feet from one of
the most dangerous porters—the original Death—intent on taking a ride to the
netherworld in his elevator, and all without my partner’s knowledge. Yeah, that
sounded exactly like something I’d do.

I crammed my body into the corner,
placing Mara between Hal and me. She was a demon, and frankly, a more logical
choice for a buffer. The door slid shut, sealing the three of us inside. Though
the elevator was more spacious than I had originally thought, it still wasn’t
big enough in my opinion.

None of us spoke. When the elevator
started to move it hitched upward slightly, and I braced myself for a drop.
Instead my body pressed to the right, as if we were moving sideways. I glanced
at Hal, chancing the first dialogue. “We’re not moving down?”

“No.” He leaned against the
opposite wall, his arms held wide, and his hands resting on the gold handrail,
he continued his silent stare.

“Oh.” Brilliant comeback. I glanced
at the ceiling, the floor, and after five seconds, I’d looked at everything
there was to see. Nervousness triggered my need to fill the silence. “I
expected we’d descend.”

Hal heaved a long-suffering sigh,
as if replying to a question I should already know the answer to was a huge
burden. “Up, down, sideways…it’s relative to where the souls are dropped.”

“So the River Styx is a sideways
trip?” I asked, goading him to speak.

“It depends where I’m at when I
start the journey.” He peered at me over his glasses. “If I am in Hell, then
the elevator would travel upward.”

“Once you leave the physical
world,” Mara added, “Time and dimensions shift. Astral planes have different
rules of physics. It’s impossible to know them all.”

I nodded, understanding the basics
of what she said. My eyes cut to Hal. Thankfully he wasn’t staring at me
anymore. I relaxed a little, feeling more confident that he wasn’t going to go
against his mom’s command, and that we’d actually make it to Styx in one piece.
I pushed for more information. “What about the river? You said it’s treacherous
and a lot of souls were lost. How so?”

This time Hal spoke. “Styx isn’t
just a river. It’s an entity in itself, tempting and toying with the souls. If
the soul submits to the desires of the water it will be dragged under, unable
to reach its final destination.”

“That’s horrible.” Pressure pushed
against my chest. I’d be responsible for all these souls. The magnitude of my
situation weighed down on me. “Is that what they call Purgatory?”

“No, there are many different
phases of Purgatory,” Hal said, slowly opening up with information. “Currently,
standing on the banks waiting for the ferry is Purgatory for millions of
souls.”

“Millions?” The number shocked me.
I’d imagined several thousand, but millions? How the hell was I going to
transport that many souls? Maybe they squished together or folded up for
convenient storage. “Just how big is the ferry?”

“Big,” Mara and Hal said in unison.

“Man, this is so unfair.” I crossed
my arms over my chest and slumped against the wall. “Stupid Charon.”

“To say the least,” Hal mumbled.

A thousand questions tumbled
through my mind, but I wasn’t sure I could handle more enlightenment about my
responsibility. “You should have music playing. Something soothing.”

The Girl From Ipanema
flared from speakers in the
ceiling. My mother listened to the song when I was little. Even though I didn’t
know the words it was impossible not to shimmy a little to the catchy beat.
Mara gave me a sideways glance, and then shook her head.

After what felt like two or three
minutes, who knew since time stopped or didn’t exist down here, Hal said,
“We’ve arrived.”

“I’m going to leave this here.” I
dragged my purse strap over my head, dropping it in the corner. Butterflies
fluttered and dipped in my stomach. What would we find when the elevator door
opened? Mara and I inched toward the front. “Okay.” I nodded at Hal. “Ready.”

“Holy shit,” Mara whispered.

When he’d said millions of people,
he hadn’t exaggerated. The spirits spread out before us, a sea of bobbing
heads, filling every available spot. Still, from inside the elevator the place
was eerily quiet. Maybe once they arrived here, spirits couldn’t communicate
with the living. Whatever the reason, it sent a tingle up my neck, resulting in
a shudder.

My mouth dropped open and my feet
wouldn’t move, this time preferring to remain inside. The once horrifying
elevator now seemed by far the safest place. Clouds rolled above us, churning
with a dozen shades of pink and gray. Though there was no actual sun,
periodically rays of light streamed through the turbulent clouds, but were
quickly swallowed up again.

“I’m going to kill him.” I looked
at Mara. “When we find Charon, I’m going to literally tear him to pieces.”

“I’ll help.” Mara stepped out of
the elevator first. “Okay, all we have to do is check out the ferry, and then
get out of here.”

“Hal, you’re going to wait, right?”
I jabbed my finger at the ground. “Not bail on us?”

“That’s tempting, but no, I will
not leave.” His lip curled in a tiny sneer. “I have no wish to face my mother’s
wrath—again.”

Mommy issues worked for me if it
kept our getaway car—or elevator—close by. “Okay.” I exited and stopped next to
Mara, inhaling. “What’s that smell?”

Lifting her chin, she sniffed.
“Smells like a little bit of a lot of things. Fire, brimstone, salty air.”

“And flowers.” I blew out my
breath. “Too weird. I’m having information overload.”

“Ready?” Mara asked.

“No, but I don’t think anybody
cares? Let’s do this as quickly as possible, and then go drink heavily.”

“I’m so there.”

The elevator perched on a ledge
above the river, overlooking the expanse of the banks and surrounding area. It
was one of the few spaces not occupied by a body. We picked our way over the
uneven ground and descended slick, moss-covered steps that had been cut into
the side of the rock face.

Once at the bottom, I braced
against the jostling crush of the crowd I knew I’d have to endure, and stepped
off the last stair onto a brick path. To my surprise the crowd flowed around,
and even through us. Just like on the physical plane, the spirits sliced me
with icy chills.

“Well, that’s convenient,” I said,
glancing at Mara.

She vigorously rubbed her arms.
“Convenient, but freezing.”

“Welcome to my world.” I pushed
forward, gritting my teeth against each spirit that passed through me. “They
don’t seem to see us.”

The souls made no indication they
knew we were there, with not even a glance in our direction. Walking among
them, I could now hear low, murmuring voices, as if I were listening from
underwater, but I couldn’t make out actual words. If the spirits didn’t know we
were there, getting them onto the ferry might prove to be problematic.

We stopped a few yards before the
massive arch spanning the brick roadway. To the right sat a shallow golden bowl
about five feet across, heaped with gold coins. I flicked my head toward the
treasure. “Charon’s pension.”

“A never-ending income stream.” She
shook her head, still rubbing her arms. “Must be nice.”

“Yeah, and we’re doing the work for
him.” I pointed at the arch. “Look, you can just make out the ferry.”

Standing on her tiptoes, Mara
craned her neck. “I wonder how many souls we can take in one trip.”

“I guess we’ll find out when we run
our first ferry trip. I’m just hoping we don’t lose anybody.” The thought
twisted my gut into knots. “Or crash.”

“We’ll do fine,” Mara said
unconvincingly.

Stone columns soared and arched
fifty feet above our heads, the opening as wide as a six-lane freeway. The
structure’s grandeur was fitting considering it ranked right up there with the
pearly gates or the gates of Hell—not that I’d seen either, thank God.

When I took a step forward to pass
under the arch, an electrical charge raced over my skin, making my toes and
fingers tingle. I gasped as the intensity increased.

“Is this normal?” I attempted to
turn my head and look at Mara, but my entire body remained immobilized.

“I don’t know.” Her voice held a
hint of panic, which in turn made me freak out a little.

Before I could launch into a
full-on anxiety attack, the electrical sparks skittered outward to the tips of
my fingers, feet, and head, creating a two-foot circle around my entire body. A
high-pitched buzzing replaced the tingles, and I was able to move again. I
looked at Mara, and when she took a step toward me the electrical circle burst,
sending a shockwave out in all directions, blowing her off her feet.

Unable to stand, I dropped to my
knees. Pain shot through my legs, but I ignored it and crawled across the brick
path to Mara. “Are you hurt?”

She slowly sat up, pushing her mass
of red hair out of her face. “I don’t think so.” Resting her arm on her bent
knee, she rubbed the back of her head. “What the hell was that?”

“Sorry,” Hal called from the ledge.
“I forgot to tell you about the arch.” He grinned, and I knew he hadn’t
forgotten at all. “No living can pass unless authorized. You’ll be fine
now—able to move freely in and out.”

I waved a hand, acknowledging that
I heard him. When he turned and reentered the elevator, my wave curled into the
bird. “Jackass.”

“Oh, he thoroughly enjoyed that.”
Mara struggled to her feet. “Even left his box to watch.”

“Since he’s the one who broke that
rule in the first place, he’s probably the reason they have that damn arch,” I
growled.

“No doubt.”

My legs felt like I’d climbed a
hundred flights of stairs and a groan seeped from me when I stood. “I’m only
thirty-five, but I still think I’m too old for this shit.”

“I’m six thousand,” Mara said. “I’m
definitely too old.”

“You’re six thousand years old?”

“Give or take a century.” She
started down the path.

“It’s so unfair,” I mumbled,
following her.

When we passed under the arch a
loud gong rang, followed by several clicking sounds, like a ticking clock.
Without warning, the bowl of gold tipped, dumping its contents. The coins
rattled and clanked, reminding me of the good old days in Vegas when the slot machines
paid out in real money. A minute later, the bowl tipped back and settled into
place.

“I think Charon just got paid.”
Mara propped her fists against her hips.  “I’ll help you kick his ass when we
find him.”

“Deal.” I smiled, happy to have a
partner in crime.

The whole electrical vetting
process must have changed our physical presence. Though spirits still passed
through us, they no longer felt like blades of ice. It was a welcome relief,
especially since I was having serious concerns about freezing to death before
we delivered a single soul. The other change was that the souls could see us
now, and seemed to recognizing us as figures of authority. Plus, it was as if
someone had tuned the radio to a clear station. The low murmurs crystalized to
understandable conversations. I cringed against the sudden noise increase.

The spirits watched us pass, some
attempting to follow us to the shore, but the crowding made it difficult for
them to move much beyond where they were.

After passing through the last layer
of spirits at the edge of the river, the ferry came into view.

“Whoa,” I said, trying to take
everything in. “That is something you don’t see every day.”

“You can say that again.” Mara took
a step toward the water. “I’ve never been this close before.”

“I doubt many people have.”

The ferry was like nothing I’d ever
seen—or could have conjured up on my best creative day. It sat on top of the
water, as if hovering. Two giant pontoons measuring at least a fifty yards in
length stretched underneath the body of the ferry. Made of wood, an intricate
pattern had been carved into each float, and where the pontoon curled upward at
the front, figures sprouted from the wood. On the right an angel rose from the
tip, its wings curling above his head, and its right hand extended. On the left
a demon stretched upward out of the wood, its left arm outstretched as if
reaching for someone.

To me, the ferry looked like an
ancient catamaran. The glass dome of the hull bowed over the top of the floats
and wide worn steps descended into the belly of the vessel. I assumed that’s
where the spirits sat, though there was quite a bit of room on the deck. Toward
the front another set of carved stairs wound upward to what was probably the
helm, and from where I’d steer the ferry. The only thing that didn’t look
mystical and ancient were the numerous strings of party lights hanging along
the outside of the hull. Charon’s personal touch, no doubt.