Pure & Sinful (Pure Souls) - By Killian McRae Page 0,86
your life” or a “Guess what? You’re going to hell in a flaming hand basket” type of crowd. And it wasn’t like Dee expected Ramiel to pick up Riona, set her on his lap, and start reciting Hallmark one-liners. But a Pure Soul had just fallen hours before — at the hands of Lucifer himself, nonetheless. Perhaps taking off to a non-earthly plane right now would be considered a tad bit rude in some more refined circles. Amongst serial murderers, for example.
Ramiel’s hands flew up defensively. “I’d ignore the summons if I could, but the Council of Seven doesn’t convene on the fly like this unless there’s serious shit going on.”
That brought a wave of concern and fear to the demigod.
Dee peeked through the crack of the door to see if anything in the bedroom had changed. It hadn’t. Riona still sat next to Marc’s expired body, his hand in her grasp as she rocked back and forth, crying softly. Out of Riona’s window, the setting sun filled the horizon with a glow of amber rays, sending shafts of light piercing through her aura, which now glowed with a woeful purple-gold hue.
Dee exhaled his frustration. What a thing to wake up to. The moment he slipped back into his body, the sight before him filled him with regret and disgust. His best friend was dead, and Riona was on the edge of joining him, lying bloody and battered in his arms. Without hesitation and not caring that the archangel was let in on his little family secret, Dee called on the extra healing gifts his father had illegally arranged for him, erasing her wounds. Hoping that it wasn’t too late, he then focused on Marc and undid the damage the dagger caused, following with a few rounds of CPR. Fifteen minutes did no good. Marcello Angeletti was gone, and despite being saved, Riona wished she were too.
Dee spoke quickly, but softly. “You think it has something to do with what happened last night?”
Ramiel coughed a laugh. “How could it not? Lucifer himself managed to bring a Pure Soul to condemnation, and nearly got Riona in his place. And then I get involved directly, which as you know on Earth requires a formal declaration of war by Heaven. Someone upstairs is pissed off, that’s for sure, and wants explanations.” He rolled his eyes. “Like I don’t know who it is.”
Dee quirked an eyebrow.
“Look, these things never take long. One good thing about archangels when we conference: we get straight to the point and talk really fast. I’ll be back just as soon as it’s done. Won’t take but a few minutes.”
Dee waved at him with annoyance. “Fine, go.”
In a flash, the angel vamoosed.
With a sigh, Dee stood and made his way to the kitchen. Soon, he found himself stepping into Riona’s bedroom, two hot, steaming cups of Earl Grey in hand.
She didn’t turn.
“Come on, honey. Tea will make you feel a bit better.”
“I don’t want it.” Her voice was smaller than a tick on a dormouse.
“I don’t want it either. But it’s either this or tequila, and neither one of us is in a good place emotionally to sit down and get drunk together.”
Her chest lifted before her shoulders sank. She exhaled and offered a hand to take the cup. For several minutes, neither spoke. They only took intermittent sips of tea, Riona with her eyes fixed on Marc, and Dee with eyes looking anywhere but.
Finally, the witch broke the silence. “What’s the procedure?”
“For?”
“Finding his replacement.”
Damn, some girls were the “let’s look forward and focus on the future” type, but they usually waited for the body to be buried first.
Clearing his throat, Dee thought it was a better subject than most, given the situation. “There’s a series of rituals. Takes a few days to get everything ready. But first, there’s a closing out rite, kind of a spiritual send-off for the departed or fallen. There’s no rush, Riona. We can take our time and mourn…”
Determination steeled her brow as she finally let go of Marc’s hand, turning toward Dee. “I want the third as soon as possible.”
“Why?”
A jerk of her head noted the dead body behind her. “Revenge.”
“Against?”
“Who else? Lucy, Lucifer, the devil, and whatever other names that bastard is known by.”
Dee shook his head. “That isn’t going to happen.”
The witch jolted to her feet, splashes of tea spilling over the sides of the mug. “Why the hell not?”
“The devil was vanquished. Probably not something he saw as a probability, or