Page 131 of Death is My BFF
Cracking my neck from side to side, I returned to the enchantment and inserted three quarters. Then I impatiently tapped the screen in hopes of moving things faster along. “Come on, baby,”
I sweet-talked the enchantment. “Get Daddy out of this shithole.”
“Hello, and thank for using Limbo to Earth Communication Services!” the enchantment said in a female automated electronic voice. “If you wish to leave Limbo, please press one—”
I smashed my finger into the button, twitching all over.
“If you seek reexamination of your situation through appointment, please press one. If you seek penance, press two. If you would like to speak to a representative in respect to selling your soul, press six-six-six.”
Rolling my eyes, I grudgingly dialed six-six-six. The moment I told him where I was, Lucifer would burn the skin and flesh off my bones until I looked like a top Google search of the Grim Reaper.
Better than being stuck here.
“One moment, please, as we process your entry.”
I propped a leg on the enchantment, tapping my talons against the glass as I glowered at the lost souls of this parallel universe.
My energy was depleting, fast. Hunger gnawed at my insides, and I shuddered. Being stuck in Limbo meant being surrounded by a scrumptious buffet of souls that I was unable to devour. Each wandering soul had a small tattoo beneath their ear, indicating their spirit was claimed by Purgatory. The last thing I needed on top of everything was a vicious lawsuit from the in-between.
Normally I had thousands of duplicates of myself feeding off human souls, plus my reapers pitching in. Now that I was in here, stuck in another realm, I had nothing. No source of energy. Zip.
Nada. Which was exactly why I never stayed long in Purgatory.
Only in passing did I visit here. When I had the patience to guide a lost soul through the afterlife to their forever home. It happened more often with adults and the elderly, depending on how they died.
But rarely with children, like when I met little Faith. Her soul had wandered in the in-between, and I could sense she’d needed guidance.
When a young, deceased soul leaned toward good, guardian angels would often help their charges pass into the realm of Heaven. For some reason, little Faith had not been assigned. I’d intended to send little Faith off to Heaven myself. As impersonal as my job had begun to feel centuries ago, allowing a child to walk through Purgatory alone was a cruel and unusual punishment I did not agree with.
Faith was no longer that innocent child. She was a woman, and she’d made a drastic decision to turn against me tonight. The mere thought of the backstabbing bitch sent my blood pressure through the roof. I didn’t evenhaveblood pressure.
When I was done with her, she’d be begging for forgiveness. Just the thought of Faith on her knees with her cosmic blue eyes all red and tear-filled reduced my anger. Oh yeah, I would have the last laugh.
The thought of punishing her sent my hormones straight down Horny Street, to a forbidden place—when I’d kissed her in her bedroom. Her soft lips, her hands on my body, the push and pull of that undeniable attraction . . .
Blood. Kill. Murder. Ridding myself of any ofthoseillicit thoughts, I worked my jaw and seethed with evil intentions.
A dial tone hummed from within the enchantment.
“Hello, my name is Ron, and I’m a trusted representative at Limbo,” Lucifer answered.
Ron?Really?
“It’s me,” I rushed out. “Malphas has Faith—”
“You’ve reached Extension 666,” Lucifer’s voice added. The pause in his words had been a small break in the line.
Wi-Fi wasn’t exactly easy to come by in Limbo.
“I’m unavailable at this time,” the recording continued. Claws sprung from my fingertips, destroying yet another pair of leather gloves. “However, if you leave your name, age, cause of death, and social security number, I will get back to you as soon as possible.”
I ended the call with a monstrous hiss. I knew damn well he never checked his voicemails. Gripping the sides of the enchantment, I proceeded to bang my skull repeatedly against the glass. The fissures it formed in the windowpane rapidly mended together. “And you tell me I don’t know how to use a phone, old man?”
“You have two remaining calls,” the enchantment said. “If you would like to contact a specific person, please insert one dollar and fifty cents.”
Spinning around, I limbered up my shoulders, bulleted forward, and slashed my talons into the steel of a street trash can. I tore straight through the webbed structure of the bin and sent the trash can flying thousands of feet, smashing into a window at the upper floor of a skyscraper. As if I was trapped in a video game simulation, the building restored itself instantly and the bin returned to its original place on the curb, unmarked.
None of the wandering souls seemed to notice this outburst.