Page 9

“ WATCH THE IMP !!” Hamiel shouted as we flew through the vortex between Earth and the realm of the shades. Delmar, who once again was doing who knew what at the portal, was knocked pointed ears over tailless rump to the side. Abyss and the carriage slowed, skidding over the dusty ground before coming to a rest in front of the stable. Hamiel hopped out of the brougham before it even stopped properly to dash over to Delmar lying beside the front gate of my dismal little front yard. I jumped down to the ground just as Delmar, still clutching the new wooden spoon that I had bought for him, righted himself then looked up at the sunlit stranger running at him. His red eyes went as round as the carriage wheels.

“Ah! No, not again! No, humans no here! No, no! Bring the crow man! Blood, brains, me scrub for days! Dig hole with hands. No, no, I do not like!” Delmar lobbed his spoon at Hamiel, then streaked off into the house, slamming the door while screeching at the top of his demonic lungs.

Hamiel stood at the gate, shocked and confused as he looked over his slim shoulder at me. “I only wished to tend to any wounds he may have incurred being run over by a horse.” He stooped down to pick up the spoon.

“He’ll be fine. This happens every time I leave. I suspect he is trying to pry open the doorway between realms. To what purpose I do not know, for he incinerates the moment he passes through the portal.” I watched the rainbow walker sigh and trudge back to me. “We shall unhitch Abyss.” He nodded, aiding me in the task. The summons burned dully in my chest. We had time. I hoped. After the stallion was in his stall resting, I motioned to the little cabin amongst the willows. When we left the barn, the spirits that usually came to greet me arrived with gusto. Surrounding Hamiel, they surged out of nowhere, hundreds of them.

I pushed them aside. “I was told to ignore them.”

“Oh no, that is not what they need at all. They simply wish to move on.” He opened his hand and a flittering spark of what remained of a person’s soul settled in his palm. His eyes fluttered, long yellow lashes coming to rest on his flushed cheeks. The others in the cloud came closer, bouncing off my face and body like a swarm of starving bot flies. “They think we can aid them. They sense moribund as they do angels. I wish I could deliver them from this lost hellscape, but I cannot carry their invocations to the heavens.”

He blew on the small gray mote. It seemed reluctant to go. The others milled about us. I swept them out of our way, taking Hamiel, who was close to tears, by the elbow to lead him into the house. Once inside, he drew in a shuddering breath. “So many souls that seek freedom. Can you help them, at least the ones who are bound for the depths?”

“I was told no, that they were sentenced to this nothingness.” I removed my top hat and placed it on the table. The cabin smelled of roasting meat. A large haunch of venison that I had acquired cooked slowly over the fire, the fat dripping into the flames to fill the cabin with glorious smells mixed with a hazy smoke. The fanciful screen pushed aside to accommodate cooking, something that unsettled me for if an ember sprang from the hearth…

I swallowed down the surge of panic as I glanced about to find Delmar atop the cupboard, hunkered down and fangs bared. “Their freedom from purgatory is not mine to grant. I am sorry. I see how upsetting that was for you.” I tossed the spoon to the imp, who caught it neatly while glaring at my guest.

Hamiel dabbed at his dewy eyes with a wrinkled white handkerchief. “I had heard rumors that this realm was rife with sadness beyond belief.” His gold eyes swept over the cabin. It had not improved much since I had come awake here several weeks ago. I had bought a rug for in front of the hearth, not that I ever stood on it, but there it lay. A few trinkets sat atop the mantle. It felt a woefully horrid place to bring a soul of such light and love. “Your home here is quite…homey.”

I snorted. “It is a dismal place, but I thank you for your kindness. Hamiel, this is my friend Delmar.” I waved a hand at the imp glowering down at us. “He is my valet, my cook, and my boot shiner.”

“Ah, well, good day to you, Delmar. I have often admired the fine clothes that you dress your master in as well as his shiny boots.” Hamiel bowed politely.

Delmar shook his spoon at us. “I no clean up blood when bad times come. No more. You make brains, you clean brains!”

With that pronouncement, he spit on his hand, wiped it across his black brow, and curled up like a cat atop the cupboard. One eye open and one pointed ear twitching.

“Dare I ask?” Hamiel enquired.

I shook my head. “I’ll explain sometime later. I suppose I should rest now?”

“Mm, yes, that would be recommended. Unless you wish to fall asleep standing? A skill that I find most impressive amongst horses.” I snickered as I sat on the lounge facing the fire to remove my boots. I took off my coats, leaving only my shirt and black tie. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable.” So I loosened my cravat tie but left my shirt buttoned as I lay down on the needlework settee. “Let me fetch a pillow.”

I began to protest, but he’d already darted off. I stared at the flames tickling the roast, my heart beating rapidly as it always did when near fire. With the help of Hamiel, I might finally be able to sort through the quagmire of horror that surrounded my death. Mayhap, once I knew how things had transpired, my fear of fire would die down. I doubted it would ever fully be extinguished, but perhaps I would not retch or feel faint whenever I arrived in the hells. Even that would be a huge blessing.

“Here we are.” Hamiel arrived at my side, my bed pillow in hand, and placed it gently behind my head. “Oh dear, this settee is a tad small for a man of your stature. Should we venture to your bed and—”

A vision of us lying abed, tangled like honeysuckle vines around a pergola, flashed to life. “I mean, that is very kind, but I am quite comfortable here.”

To prove my point, I lay down, propping my legs over one arm of the settee. Hamiel glanced at my calves resting on the arm but said nothing. I could see that his clever mind was hard at work, though. “I nap here like this often.”

One slim golden eyebrow arched, but he said nothing to refute my lie. Naps were rare for me, sleep even more so. I slept in dribs and drabs, grabbing a few hours here and there before either a summons woke me or I catapulted from my lumpy bed bound in a fiery nightmare.

“As you wish.” He grabbed one of the moth-eaten armchairs and dragged it noisily across the floor to sit beside me. “What I shall do is, once you are drowsy, I will place my hands to your face thusly.” He reached over to touch my temples with his soft fingertips. My body responded instantly as waves of easement flowed over me. My lashes fluttered. “I will attempt to follow your mind as it weaves into slumber. Entering your dreams may be rather clunky as I am a novice and probably lack the training required to speak to you as you sleep, but I hope that I can view what you are seeing. Much like Morpheus who could view dreams. I will not be able to interact with or influence your visions but will witness what I can and then relay what I saw to you. We might be able to pick up something that your fears are blocking out.”

“Yes, that sounds good.” I was nervous beyond measure. Hamiel gave me a kind smile and sat back with his hands in his lap. I closed my eyes. Moments ticked by. The venison spat, and the fire danced. The sound of Delmar muttering in his nook and the soft click-click-click of souls striking the windows like moths drawn to a heavenly flame filled my head. I shifted and sighed and forced myself to think of carriage parts instead of pondering the beauty of the man seated so primly a mere foot away. “You seem restless.”

“I am, I am so sorry,” I confessed after releasing a hearty sigh.

“No worries. I think you need a distraction. Let me fetch your new books. I shall read to you and maybe that will quiet your distractions.”

“That may work,” I admitted, opening my eyes to watch him remove his hands and then dig into his satchel. He took out both of my books, laid one on the floor, and then gently opened the other.

I watched in silence as he pushed a curl from his brow, nudged his glasses up his nose, and settled those beautiful harvest wheat eyes to the page.

“Canto first. The Chase.” His voice was as pure as a first snowfall, as gentle as a fawn, and lilting like the song of the oriole. I let my eyes close, folded my hands on my chest, and focused on the words falling from his soft lips.

“Harp of the North! that moldering long hast hung,

On the witch-elm that shades Saint Fillan’s spring,

And down the fitful breeze thy numbers flung,

Till envious ivy did around thee cling,

Muffling with verdant ringlet every string…”

My thoughts began to drift. I tried to picture the Scottish landscape, the deep greens, the red stags, and the bitter cold lochs. The land of Caledonia came to life for a few moments and then it shifted, as dreams want to do, to a pasture in Massachusetts. I stood beside a dapple gelding, no tack on the horse, as a small orb the size of a blue jay hovered about me, as if watching the scene unfold. The smell of sheep was strong. White ewes with lambs dotted the landscape. The sky above us was vacant of coloration, yet I could hear the bleats of the sheep. Among a stand of white birch, I was facing Theo, his face a mask of anger the likes of which I’d never seen before.

“Theodore, this cannot continue,” I pleaded as he shook his dark head. “You are recently betrothed to Lillianne Cabott. Surely you cannot wish to continue our relationship while you are lawfully wed?”

“She’s just a means to an end,” he argued as he stalked the trees, the spring sun low in the west. The air was cold, our breaths fogging in front of us. “I’m only marrying the wench to satisfy my father. I do not care for her. Not one whit! Nothing like I care for you.”

I shook my head. “No, Theo, no. I cannot in good faith lay with a married man.”

“What does a sodomite such as yourself care about faith?!” His shout echoed off the hillsides. I was thankful I had chosen this spot several miles outside of Avers Mill for this unpleasant talk. “Faith! You suck my cock and then talk of faith! I will not have it.” He went to slap me, but I caught his hand. He spit in my face. I released his wrist to clear the spittle from my cheek. “You are a sickening bastard of a cock tease. I will see you dead before I have to spend the rest of my days watching you mince about town with some other poor besotted fool while I am plowing that sow wife of mine!”

“Theodore…”

He shoved around me, flung himself onto the back of his racing horse, and rode off flinging vulgarities back at me over his shoulder.

Then, as if a string got snipped, the countryside blurred, and the soft winds blowing over Farmer Morton’s sheep pasture morphed into the sound of flames roaring along dry wood, gorging on mounds of hay, and crackling along the walls as I clawed at the tack room door.

“Please, please, help me!”

Flames danced up my trousers. I flailed at my pant legs, my lungs beginning to sear. Terror set in wholly. I pounded louder. Screamed to the gods. To anyone. Please, dear God, please…

Muffled weeping on the other side of the door.

“I cannot see you with another. I am sorry,” Theo called through the door. “I warned you. I told you not to leave me. This is all your fault, Livingstone!”

“Theodore!” I bellowed, then fell into a fit of coughing.

Smoke filled my sight, my throat, my lungs…

Tears clouded my eyes, and I hit the door once more. My shoulder popped out of its socket just as flames lunged from the wall to my shirt. I spun from the door, arm dangling, to watch the blackened beams overhead buckle and fall down upon me. A final scream broke free.

Nothingness. A voice. Male. Pleasant, yes, so pleasant. Whispered words beside my ear. His voice was like honeyed wine.

“Your debt comes due, Livingstone Wright.”

I curled into his embrace as I grieved…

I came awake with a bellow.

Hamiel’s voice, soft and calm, floated into the confusion as his warm hands fell from my temples. I lashed out, still bound in the fire, the haze of reality clinging tenaciously to the fog of dreams. I fell from the settee—yet again—to land on my hands and knees. The tumble was short, the pain to my kneecaps sharp. I sat back on my heels, eyes wide but not fully seeing, chest heaving.

Tears flowed freely followed by huge rasping sobs. Unlike the previous times, I did not face the aftermath alone. Lean, strong arms enveloped me, the scent of spring flowers, the touch of winsome curls on my damp face.

“I have you, Livingstone. You are safe in your home.” Hamiel’s tender words were like a balm. I leaned into them and him and pulled him into me. My arms encircled him, tugging him even closer. I buried my face into his hair, inhaling his unique scent, as the shudders began to slow. The tears stopped. Yet I did not let go. I did not know if I could. He was soothing in ways I did not understand. “Easy now.” He rubbed my back and my shoulders as I fought to find some modicum of control. Lashes damp, I opened my eyes to find the cabin just as it had been when the poem had begun. Delmar sat atop the cupboard, eyes as round as dinner plates, his spoon pressed into his scrawny chest. “I have you. You are safe here in my arms.”

“I wish to never leave them,” I confessed into supple ringlets. No truer words had ever left my lips. His arms were mecca.

“Then I shall hold you for eternity,” he whispered, leading my head to his slim shoulder. My back bowed uncomfortably in this position as he was much shorter than me. The crick in my spine be damned. Let my back stay bowed like a crone’s.

The tug of a summons lit up my chest. Damnation, this job was the worst. If I could sever my employment, I would. Leaning back, I gazed at Hamiel, his cheeks also wet with tears. Before I could stop myself, my hand came to his face. Using my thumb, I cleared a glistening droplet from his skin.

“You are the kindest, most beautiful man I have ever met,” I whispered as he gazed at me through smudged lenses. It came to me then, as I studied angelic beauty, to question why he wore spectacles. Did not all his earthly infirmities cease when he was accepted into Heaven? I would ask momentarily, but for now, I wished only to revel in his grace.

“As are you.” He batted damp lashes, and before I could thank him properly, he pressed his lips to mine. Unsure if this was proper, I nonetheless fell into the wild kiss. My arms cinched tighter around him, sealing his mouth to mine as his fingers dove into my hair. His lips were pillowy, ripe, and opened with just the slightest touch of my tongue. A madness took me over then. Hamiel, a willowy man of half my size, moaned softly as he deepened the kiss. Our tongues tangled as I tasted sweet apple. My hands roamed over his back, finding his slim waist, then clasped his hips tightly as we explored each other’s mouths.

We gasped at the same time. My chest ached as if Abyss had kicked me. The summons would not be ignored for much longer.

Hamiel, his cheeks now rosy, stared at me as if I held all manner of ancient secrets. “I have longed to do that for many weeks. I dreamed of it when I was pressing robes. Did I move too quickly? Was I too ungentlemanly? Oh bright stars, I acted most unbecomingly!”

I stole another kiss, a tender one, to quiet his spiral. “You were perfection.”

“We need to speak about your dream before we are separated.” He ran a finger along my whiskery cheek, sat back on his heels, and righted his white suit. His arousal was easy to see through his satin trousers. Mine throbbed in my pants as well. Plainly being half dead did not kill a man’s libido. “I was witness to a personal moment, and for that, I apologize. I did not…my thinking going into your dream was to see only the nightmare, but…” he stammered and then fell silent, his chin dropping as he closed his eyes in shame. “I did not wish to intrude on such a painfully private moment.”

“You did not intrude,” I said, tilting his chin up so he could see how earnest I was. “I invited you in to my visions. And I am glad of it, Hamiel. So very glad. I have been drawn to you since that first meeting. You fell over a chunk of firewood and I was smitten, but I was bound in such chagrin about being attracted to you while being romantically involved with another. But that has been proven to be wrong. I was free of him.” The joy I felt over my shamefacedness over being unfaithful to Theo evaporated like water sprinkled on a hot skillet. The man I had been intimate with, whom I had felt gentle affection for, had been privy to my death. He’d been there. On the other side of that door, crying, yet unwilling to free me. That knowledge sent me back to my ass in shock. “He killed me…”

“It seems so.” Hamiel sat beside me, uncaring of his white trousers, and took my hand. “I have no words to express my sorrow.”

“What can be said in the face of such betrayal?” I whispered, clasping his small hand in mine. “Given our last meeting, and the threat against me, I can only surmise that he made true his vow to see me dead.”

Hamiel sighed deeply. “The fire does seem purposefully set by the man. I wonder if he passed in that fire or if he still lives? Many times a crime of passion involves two lives lost. I can check the book of lives to see if his name is listed.”

“Hamiel, no, I cannot allow you to do that.” I shook my head strongly. “You have been punished once on my account, and I could not live with the guilt if you were to be disciplined again. There is another way to discover if Theo yet lives. I shall go back to Avers Mill to locate him. He works in the town hall during the day and returns to his small residence on his father’s property at night. Both places I know well.”

His amber eyes filled with sadness. “Will seeing him bring back memories of a lost love?”

“No, I think not. Whether he still lives or not, he is my murderer, and any feelings I may have had he has tarnished beyond repair.” I turned his hand over to rub his smooth palm with my thumb. His lips parted slightly at the intimacy. “I had broken it off with him before the fire, so even if he died in the blaze in a misguided taking of his own life over our relationship failing, our affair would have ended, regardless. I do have morals.”

“I know that. I do, Livingstone. I see your kindness every time we are together. Cling to that empathy and humanity. It will keep your heart pure even if you are bound to the lord of lies.”

I smiled shakily at the infusion of comfort his touch gave me.

The fire licked at the roast, fat oozing from it to sputter on the hot logs. Delmar, as quiet as a cat, had climbed down from his perch to hide behind the dining table, his long pointed ears drooping down. Finally, I shook free of the trauma of the dream and the revelations it had brought. A sharp jolt to my midsection startled me. I looked at Hamiel. He, too, looked pained.

“We must go,” he whispered. “If you wish for me to accompany you when you seek out your…the man who…the person that…” He shrugged. “I do not know what to term him, but if you wish me to go with you when you seek out more of the truth, then all you need to do is ask and I shall go.”

I leaned over to touch my lips to his. A lightness lifted my soul as he breathed into the kiss, his aura seeping into all the dark corners of my heart.

“I think that’s something I need to do alone, but we will spend more time together. If you wish, of course?”

“Yes, yes, I do so wish it.” His smile twisted into a grimace. “We must go. The judgment is being made as we speak.”

I rose to my boots, pulled him to his feet, and ran the back of my fingers along his jawline. I thought to say more but did not wish to in front of Delmar or while the summons pulled at us so painfully. There would be time for us to explore our newfound admiration of each other.

If there was one thing we had ample supplies of, it was time and the dying.