Shadows of the Keeper (8 page)

“I could use a bit of light in
here,”  Hades bellowed. 

Flames geysered from unseen
pits.  Shaking his head, he looked to his son.  “Why do they forever
assume I mean fire?  It chafes my skin.”

“Because you reside in Hell?” 
Dezenial inquired.

“It was cute when you were a
child.  I’ll not tolerate your goading, now that you’re a grown . . . what
are you anyway?”

Dezenial shrugged.  “I too
remain forever baffled.”

Hades narrowed black brows. 
“Be grateful Persephone likes you.”

“You said you’d keep Aurelia
here
. 
Safe
, you vowed, her spirit never to suffer manipulations of life or
another brutal death!”

“We discussed this twenty-four
years ago.”

“We’re discussing it again.”

Hades’ gave his son a black look
before answering.  “You remember your uncle?  You know, the one whom
we
all
revere?  Let me see, what’s his name again . . .”

Dezenial sighed.  “Zeus.”

Hades snapped his fingers, wagging
his index finger at Dezenial.  “Yeah, yeah, that one.”

“Your point?”

Hades floated closer.  “My
point, oh favorite son of mine, is that, though I can wreak havoc, I too have
certain rules to abide by.  Sucks, I know, but there you are.  I
can’t keep a soul unless it’s damned.  Zaiyne and Aurelia lacked proper
qualifications, but Emily, for her, I hold out hope.  Spunky, that
one.  I
like
her.”

“You would.”

“Did she tell you I had the nicest
chambers created for her?  Oh, wait, that’s right, you’ve decided in this
life of hers, you will guard, but not touch.  Warm female mortal flesh,
and you contend yourself to settle for her shadows.”

“Three times, my world has killed
her.”  Dezenial folded muscled arms, glaring.  At nine thousand seven
hundred sixty three years old, he’d be damned if he was going to suffer
lectures.

“I’ll lecture you,” Hades informed
him.

Dezenial bared his fangs, hissing
with rage.

Hades’ cannon laughter
boomed.  Abruptly, the god threw up his hand and sobered.  “We’re
about to have company.”  No sooner had the forewarning been issued than a
toga draped spirit seemingly zip-lined towards the two gods.

“Five hundred fourteen just
arrived, Your Deadliness.”

“I’ve told you not to call me
that.  What’s wrong with you?  You’re fidgeting.”

“Nothing, Oh Evil One.”

Hades sighed.  “You fidget
when something is terribly wrong.  So what if our numbers are down. 
Is that what smokes your ass?”  He waved his hand.  “We’ve a cruise
liner in the Atlantic and permission to start hurricane season.” Gleefully, he
rubbed his hands.  “I so love hurricane season.  Every couple of
years, I’m granted a clean sweep.  It’s almost as much fun as
bowling.”  Hades turned to his son.  “Have you tried bowling?”

“Negative.”

Hades sobered.  “It’ll give
you something to do with those skulls you collect.  I swear, you’re as
drab as sunshine during a picnic.”

“I aim to please.”

“I don’t think I like your
attitude.”

“You never encouraged me to be a
well behaved son.”

“And you exceeded even my
expectations.  Tell me, have you slaughtered—“

“Uh, Your Awfulness?”

Hades swung around so ferociously,
the hovering servant rocketed high above their heads.  “Get down
here!  Don’t make me come up there.  I have an aversion to
heights.  You
know
it gives me vertigo!”

“Don’t yell.”

“I won’t yell,” Hades agreed.

“Promise?”

“You bargain like Aurelia.”

“She was sweet.  Will she be
returning soon?”

“NO!”  Dezenial roared.

“Sssshhhh.  Whatever you do,”
Hades whispered to his son, “don’t yell at it.  Last time, I had to do all
my own accounting for two weeks before it came back.  I like this
one.  Okay, except for the stupid titles it keeps calling me but, hey,
good help is hard to find.”

“What happened to Orin?”

“I couldn’t take the smell of his
burnt flesh one minute more.  A tax attorney for the mafia, I had no
choice but to throw him into the pits a few times, but whew!  What a
stench!  That lard ass sizzled and popped until demons arrived with forks
and bibs.  Zeus awful mess.  You know one of those ghouls even
thought to be funny by supplying potato salad?  They’ve gone mum on
me.  None will spill who the comedian is amongst them.  Oh, Orin, I
get distracted, threw him in Styx.  Let him gargle river water for a
thousand years.  Good thing I did burn him.  He’d still be
floating.  Don’t they realize gluttony is a sin for a reason?  They
float when you try to drown them.”  Irritated, Hades waved his hand
again.  “This one just liked setting buildings on fire.”

Dezenial’s gaze narrowed against
his father’s nonchalance.  “Seems unworthy of eternity damned for burning
down buildings.”

“Okay, so there were a handful of
politicians inside the building.  Hero, in my book, but you know your
uncle.  Zeus refused him peaceful eternity, something about in past lives,
he wasn’t much better, were you?”

“I can’t help that I enjoy
fire.  It was my intention to imitate the master.”

“Yeah, yeah, butt shark someone
else.  Just make sure you stay away from the pits.  First time you
burn to a crisp, I’m replacing you.  Took me forever to get that
Orin-stench out of my office.”  Hades stared at his newly acquired servant
for several long moments until the spirit swallowed his fear and spiraled
downward, clipboard clutched tightly like a shield.

“You’re still fidgeting.”

“Four of our new arrivals are
lawyers.”

Hades’ hand cradled his
forehead.  “Screaming rights?”

“Rallying the others that they have
the right to a jury’s decision whether or not they belong here.”

“I’m leaning towards the
‘not’.  Douse ‘em with fire.  That’ll distract them for a while.”

“Oh, Your Meanness, I will carry
out your orders immediately.”

“Just make sure you have Arsyn show
you how to work—“

“Can we use the lava hose?”

“No, no, no!”  Hades turned to
his son.  “See what I have to deal with?  No. No lava.  It melts
even the bone.  Then I have to toss them in the river for millennia before
they can serve the demons.  No.  My brother comes down here, swearing
I’m not making the scourge of his world suffer enough for their vile acts
during their living years.  No, hell no.  Oh, look, I made a
pun.”  Hades snapped his fingers, the spirit vanishing from their
presence.  “See what you’re missing?”

“Removal of tongues ceases my
headaches.”

“I’ve been meaning to speak with
you about your curious penchant.”

Dezenial arched a luminous brow at
his sire.

“Do you know what it’s like to try
and terrify someone, and the entire time they’re screaming with their mouth
wide open, I’m forced to gaze upon your ghastly handiwork?  Not to mention
suffering the great inconvenience of having to send for my translator when your
baggage tries speaking, minus their tongue.  Could you at least sew it to
their arm or something where we can attach it and understand the pathetic
fool?”  Hades shook his head.  “As if I don’t have enough to contend
with.  Just yesterday, Charon decided he was increasing his rates or no
more rowing any souls across Styx.  Then he threatens—you need something
to drink?  I know it’s a bit warm down here for you.”

“I’m fine. 
Do
continue.”  He’d humor his father for a time while his Emily plotted her
escape and sought her precious coffee.  And hot bath.  He swallowed
painfully.  Seeing her more often rubbed raw his denial of her
embrace.  A paramount reason he preferred her to remain in her own
realm.  Now, he was laced within her mind more than he cared to be. 
If Drakar found her . . .

“You aren’t listening to me. 
See?  I’m invisible.  No one—“

“Just yesterday, what?”

“Where was I? Oh, Charon. 
He’s threatening strike!”  Hades punched his fist into his other
hand.  “There’s no striking in Underworld!  Next, I’ll have freshman
demons demanding wings!”  Hades paced.  “I love my job, I love my
job,” he muttered.  “I love my job.”

“
I
have wings.” 
Dezenial fought damn hard not to grin.

“You’re my son,” Hades threw up his
hands, a sign, Dezenial noted, of serious stress.  “Of
course
you
have wings.”  This time, Hades swept his hands to encompass all.  “I
gave you
everything
!”

“This isn’t the part where you
start your barrage of how you had nothing in your day, is it?”

“See?  That right
there!”  Bells loudly gonged.  Hades changed form until he was red,
forked tail, his skin steaming.  “No one appreciates me.  How do I
look?”

Dezenial tapped his own
forehead.  “Forgot your horns.”

“Causes migraines.  I save
those for last.”  The god sighed.  “Let me go scare the
newbies.  I tell you, ever since you and Inzyr decided it a lark to
torment those Crusaders, I’ve been forced to don this ridiculous costume. 
The tail alone, I should have you sawed in half repeatedly for millennia.”

“You’re being dramatic.  They
were too full of hope.  I needed to remind them some things remain dark.”

“Okay, but a
tail
?”

“We could have dressed up as tribal
shamans.”

Hades’ face contorted.  “I’ll
take the tail over the loincloth and painted face.  Got me there. 
Last time I had one of those creatures show up down here, we needed Zeus to
free us of woo-hoo magicks.  Nothing worse than a bunch of demons with
their heads now shrunken.”

Dezenial couldn’t refrain from
laughing.

“Funny, until you need your demons
to scare faith back into a few folks.  Kinda hard to be terrorized by
something with a head no bigger than a doorknob.”  He joined his son’s
laughter.  “Still haven’t lived down my humiliation over having to call
upon He Who Must Forever Be Obeyed.  I digress.  Say something to
thoroughly piss me off so I can go rip these lawyers a new one.”

“I witnessed Persephone sunning
herself in the nude on the shores of white sands last summer after leaving
here.  She has a remarkable body.  Very sleek, that one, and might I
add I especially enjoyed the cute little tattoo you finally talked her into—“

Flames erupted, surrounding Hades,
his roaring and screeching making even the deadly Lumynari prince flinch. 
Just as suddenly, the enraged god vanished, though burning sulfur
remained.  Hades’ face, minus his body, materialized within inches of
Dezenial’s.  “You
were
kidding, right?”

“Of course.  I would never spy
on your wife.”

His father disappeared again. 
“You’re lying,” the gods voice bellowed.  Dezenial roared with
laughter. 

Until, through Emily’s mind, he
overheard cruel disclosures the mortal woman wasn’t ready for.

*   *   *   *   *

The mitigated joy of struggling
with soaked jeans—which usually required a body to roll about quite a bit on
the floor while cursing and threatening to slice and dice said jeans while
yanking off one pant leg, then, blessedly, the other—could wait.  Hot java
to take up and enjoy with scalding hot bath—and maybe a really sharp knife to
just cut jeans off and be done with it—was the optimal choice right now. 
Besides,
Maeve’s coffee rocks!  She puts just the perfect blend of cinnamon, and—

“I say he’ll kill her before much
longer.  She’s the blame of his wife’s death and their curse.”

Emily’s hand halted midair like a
crossing guard stopping traffic.  Just about to push her way into the
kitchen, she stilled. 
Kill?  As in throttle?  Metaphorically
speaking, right
?

“She wasn’t truly his wife, and you
know it.  Na’Dryn was his mistress.”

“Mistress that was
human
. 
Mi’ da hopes the laird ends this one’s miserable life, and soon.  Just
last night, flames from candles and hearth mysteriously extinguished, yet no
open windows or doors for Sister Wind to travel through.”  Female voice
lowered.  Emily moved closer to the door.  “Their shadows passed by,
silhouetted through our curtains.”  Collective gasps reminded Emily of
leaky air ducts back home in Chase’s office.  “Da said tonight we close
the shutters and bed down in the same room.  He’s been buffing and
readying mi’ grand da’s sword most of the morn.”  Chopping resumed for
several long seconds before the speaker continued, onions suddenly pungent.

“Tha’ Yank is going ta’ bring about
another massacre.  Three thousand years, the laird has kept our ancestors,
and now us, safe.”

Three-thousand years
, Emily
mouthed. 

“We all hoped she would stay dead.”

“Pratty!  Blasphemy.”

“Ye’ ken it ta’ be true.  And
returnin’ as a Yank, knowin’ nothin’ of our ways.”

I’m the Yank.  What the
hell
?

“Allysyn worked here the other day,
side by side wi’ her.  Said she’s funny, kind and a hard worker,
Pratty.  Said for a princess she doesn’t put on airs.”

Princess?  Another local
slur for Americans
?

“Give her a chance.  Maeve
approves of her and that’s good enough fer’ me.  Ye’ can’t expect her ta’
wear blame when she doosna’ even know who she really is.”

“Allysyn and you would find the
good in Satan.  Good thing, being he’s on his way.  Those were his
minions passing our window last night, and ye’ ken it!”

Satan?  On his way? 
Had this bitch stolen into Broc’s scotch?  Because she definitely spoke as
one having lost their mind
.

“Did Allysyn also tell ye’ the
woman’s too daft ta’ realize Aunsgar be Elf?  That he’s a prince, once
upon a time, her uncle?  Or ta’ realize our immortals never don the
clothing of moderns?  They look ridiculous in those trews likened to her own. 
Just yesterday, I caught Colin hiding when he heard her stomping towards the
gatehouse, the mohn terrified she’d spy him wi’out the ridiculous shirt he
wears ta’ hide his body art.”  A snort sounded through the door. 
“Like she would even realize she breaks bread with ancient Picts.”