Life After Death (Return to Limbo City Book 1) Sneak Peek of Chapter 3

   

Chapter 3

“There is something about a closet that makes a skeleton terribly restless."

—Wilson Mizner

 

Maybe I was imagining things, but Jenni Fang and I had been on the verge of friendship at one time. Our differences were many, but we’d found balance in our common denominator, Josie Galla.

If not for Josie, I don’t imagine Jenni and I would have ever been roommates or study buddies, or gone shopping together. The only time Jenni had involved me without Josie had been when Grim approved her revenge mission on Caim.

After she’d been taken, I’d been the one to find her, naked and chained in a dark cell, broken mentally and physically. I assumed she’d chosen me to go after Caim because she knew I’d understand her wrath and desperate need for closure. Not exactly a girls’ night out, but battle was its own flavor of bonding.

There was also a part of me that had always suspected Jenni knew more than she’d let on after becoming Grim’s new second-in-command. Not that I imagined Grim had shared the information freely, but Jenni was resourceful. And ambitious. A combination that made her too much like our late boss for my taste. The slick black pantsuits she’d taken to wearing only amplified the similarity.

Jenni leaned against the back wall of the elevator, ankles crossed and arms folded. “Going down?” she asked at my slack-jawed hesitation.

“Uh… yeah.” I gave Warren a farewell nod and boarded the elevator with an uneasy feeling in my gut.

Jenni’s complete lack of surprise made it clear that our meeting this way was not a coincidence. As soon as the doors closed, she pressed the button for the thirty-seventh floor. My stomach clenched even though it had been years since I’d last visited Grim’s floor of horrors, reserved for torturing his foes.

“It’s been a long day,” Jenni said, her stoic gaze meeting mine briefly. “Have a drink with me.”

“You know, I would, but Bub’s expecting me for dinner, and um…” I raked a hand through my hair, trying to summon a better excuse.

Jenni shot me another look, one that reminded me far too much of Grim. “I wasn’t asking.”

I wheezed out a clipped laugh. “Sounds as if I’m going to need that drink.”

“You and me both.”

“How did you even know I was here?” I asked, my senses finally catching up.

“Tracking chip in your soul docket.”

My hand instinctively went to my pocket, patting the outline of the device through my pants. It wasn’t much bigger than a cell phone, making it easy to forget about after the workday ended. But I wouldn’t forget again. That sucker would be staying on the ship anytime I was off the clock from here on out.

I wasn’t the sort to engage in illegal activities—well, not anymore. It was the principal of the matter. That kind of invasive technology should have been reserved for emergencies, not to ambush me in an elevator. I didn’t enjoy being caught off guard. I didn’t know anyone who did.

“How do you like your martinis?” Jenni asked as the elevator rolled to a stop.

“At home,” I muttered under my breath.

“Gin or vodka?” she clarified, ignoring my snarky nerves.

Before I could answer, the doors slid open, revealing a bright foyer.

The construction site I remembered with its hanging plastic sheets and abandoned power tools was gone. A giant marble geisha squatted in one corner, her head nearly grazing the high ceiling. She clutched a bucket in her hands, tilted so that it continuously spilled into a raised basin at her feet. Fat koi splashed their tails in greeting as Jenni sat on the lip of the fountain. She twirled her fingers in the water before taking off her heels, exchanging them for a pair of house slippers.

The elevator doors began to close again, and I slapped my hand out to stop them, quickly exiting at Jenni’s irritated scowl. She pointed toward a bench along the far wall. “You can kick your boots off over there.”

I did as instructed and then followed her down a curved hallway and into a massive living space. Evening light filtered through tall windows. The sky had melted into a deep red-orange, painting the walls and cabinets a golden hue.

Jenni cut through the room, bypassing a pristine sitting area. The absence of throw pillows and ass impressions in the angular, leather sofas made it clear the room didn’t get much use.

“Do you… live here?” I was almost embarrassed that I didn’t know the answer. Had we really become so out of touch?

“For two years now,” Jenni answered. She stopped in front of a wet bar and filled a shaker with ice before pulling two martini glasses from a glass chiller. “Gin or vodka?” she asked again.

“Gin, thanks.” I stripped out of my jacket and glanced around the room, trying to decide where to discard it. Now that I was reasonably certain Jenni hadn’t gone full-on sadist and brought me here to witness her grim handiwork, my heart rate had returned to normal. Maybe we really could just be two old friends sharing a drink after work.

“You can toss that anywhere,” Jenni said, nodding at the catalog sitting area.

I draped my jacket over the back of a sofa and cringed at how it ruined the aesthetic. I didn’t belong in perfect places like this. I was a messy, lived-in kinda gal. An overstuffed chaise covered in knit blankets and hellhound fur was more my speed.

Jenni carried our martinis to a long counter that sectioned off the kitchen and pulled out a pair of backless barstools that had been pushed up against the paneled underside. Their leather seats matched the sofas and looked as equally unused as everything else in the apartment. I couldn’t decide if it was because Jenni was just that anal or if she stayed too busy for entertaining.

“Two years?” I hitched an eyebrow and gave the place an appraising glance before taking a seat.

“The condo at Holly House wasn’t getting much use, and then the council began to question the conflict of interest.” Jenni rolled her eyes and took a sip of her martini.

I plucked up the cocktail sword of olives in my own glass, biting one off to keep my mouth busy. Jenni already knew how I felt about the council, and everyone knew how desperate they were to appear relevant in the changing political landscape of Eternity. Nitpicking over the president of Reapers Inc.’s living accommodations made about as much sense as anything else they’d done in the past decade.

I finally sampled the martini, washing down the olive with an appreciative hum. The gin was smooth with an herbal aftertaste. It steeled my nerves just enough to get me into trouble. “You’ve never tracked me down to have drinks before. What’s the occasion?”

“Right to it, then.” Jenni polished off her martini and set it down on the counter, swallowing hard before her gaze locked on mine again. “We have a problem, and I think you’re the only one who can solve it.”

“And by we, you mean… the council?”

“No.” Jenni shook her head. “I mean we as in all of Eternity. Everyone.”

I huffed and propped an elbow over the edge of the counter. “Look, I know they’d love to get their hands on an original believer who’s willing to restore the throne. But even if I wanted to help them—which I don’t—they striped me of the ability to see a soul’s aura. So I don’t see how I could possibly be any better a candidate than anyone else for whatever problem—”

“When’s the last time you talked to Ellen Aries?” Jenni asked, her expression going stony.

“I don’t know. A few months ago?” I shrugged.

“Do you remember shadowing her when she first reentered the field?”

“Sure.” A cold sweat worked its way up my back to the nape of my neck. “Why?”

“That was after Naledi’s procedure.”

“And?” I blinked innocently.

Jenni’s eyes narrowed. By now I knew where she was going, but I was still holding out hope I might be able to bullshit my way out of it.

“Ellen claims that a soul was able to see you pre-mortem.”

“What? When?”

“The hospital where you encountered Vince Hare.” Jenni laced her fingers together in her lap. “I’m assuming that was an original believer. Maybe that’s why Vince was interested in him? It’s possible he had a seer in his little cult of souls.”

“I honestly don’t know.” I pinched my eyes closed as unwelcome memories of what followed flooded my mind. “Grim killed him along with Vince and everyone else he’d recruited.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that he was able to see you before his death,” Jenni said.

“The guy was losing his mind. He was screaming for more dessert. That doesn’t prove he could see me.”

“It’s going to take a lot more than that to convince the council.”

“Why does the council have to know about this at all?” I snapped. “It’s useless information that serves no purpose. I won’t help rebuild the corrupt system I was born to dismantle—” I jumped as Jenni’s hand slapped the countertop, cutting me off.

“You weren’t born, you were made. Just like the rest of us,” she said through clenched teeth. “And if I don’t share this information with the council at tomorrow’s meeting, Ms. Aries has advised me that the captain of the Guard intends to.”

Ellen had sold me out. The cold sweat on my neck was suddenly hot.

“It doesn’t matter.” I lifted my chin. “Even if that soul did see me, I haven’t come across another that could since. I’m still useless to the council, and that’s exactly how I’d like to remain.”

“Lana.” Jenni dragged a hand down her face. “This isn’t just about taking control of the excess soul matter. The boundaries of the hells are shifting unpredictably. The hellcat and rogue demon sightings on the mortal side are becoming more and more frequent, and Ross’s troops are the ones suffering for it. In his position, who wouldn’t do everything in their power to solve this crisis?”

“And how do the souls on the Isles of Eternity feel about solving this crisis?” I countered. “Do you really think they’re going to give up their territory and autonomy so easily?”

Jenni shook her head. “No one is asking them to. The council isn’t even interested in the throne right now. They think original believers could be useful in another way.”

“Sure they do.” I held my hands out, palms up. “It doesn’t really matter though. Like I said, I haven’t come across another original believer.”

“Yes, but we haven’t been actively searching for them, have we?”

“Great.” I groaned and downed the rest of my martini. The idea of going before the council again set my nerves to twitching. Maybe that could be avoided if I sucked it up and agreed to this now. “So I take it the Special Ops Unit will be reinstated?”

“That’s what I’ll be recommending to the council in the morning.” Jenni stood and collected our empty glasses. “Do you want another?”

“That depends. Do you have any more nasty surprises to spring on me?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Then I’ll pass.”

Jenni set my glass in the wet bar sink before fixing herself a second cocktail as the golden light in the apartment shifted to a dusty violet. The empty walls and pale floors soaked up the color. The thirty-seventh floor was still high enough above the city to view the Sea of Eternity in the distance.

Just past the harbor, the largest of the Isles of Eternity bloomed with a dark forest, enclosing the private community of souls within a protective wall of evergreens. They’d established their own rules early on, and no deities were allowed to set foot on their territory.

Still, Jenni had tried to foster good will by offering the new souls work visas for Limbo City. With so much of the nephilim population joining the Guard, the work force could have used the boost. The souls had declined, though they did elect their own ambassador to join the council. The council had reluctantly agreed to the addition since this was their only way of gathering information about the new territory they’d just as soon sink back into the sea.

Despite never having visited the islands or the souls that inhabited them, I couldn’t help but feel a certain level of ownership for their existence. Sure, it had been the throne’s power that had created them. But I’d been the one to unleash it into the sea. That had to count for something.

Not that I’d ever tried to lay claim to the territory. What was I going to do with a bunch of undeveloped islands? And who needed the extra pain in the ass with the council and their constant plotting? No thank you. Besides, I was genuinely happy for the souls the throne had deemed worthy of an afterlife.

I should have known I’d be the one expected to take it from them.

"Life After Death" will be available December 21st, 2021.

Find it at your favorite e-bookstore today! 

https://angelaroquet.com/books_life_after_death

Life After Death (Return to Limbo City Book 1) Sneak Peek of Chapter 2

  

Chapter 2

“When I was a boy, the Dead Sea was only sick."

—George Burns

 

Even though I now resided in Tartarus with Beelzebub, it was hard not to think of Limbo as home. I’d spent three hundred years in the city, and even its flaws had a certain charm to them. The ancient, rickety dock piers that were constantly being repaired. The nosy goddess shopkeepers. The faerie-inhabited woods scattered along the coast.

These were the devils I knew, unlike the occasional raining fire and brimstone smog that rolled in off the Styx near the manor in Tartarus. The gritty, yellow aftermath stained the windows and clung to my hellhounds’ fur like tar that stank of rotten eggs. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to that—or the professional grooming bills that came after.

Still, it wasn’t as if I could just pick up and move back to Limbo City. Not unless I wanted to live on my ship in the harbor with my apprentices. Holly Spirit, my last landlord, would have been a terrible reference even if my hounds hadn’t left their special mark on my former condo at Holly House.

Ah, well. Thumbing my nose at that holier-than-thou twat had been worth the pricey commute. And I still enjoyed an occasional night out at Purgatory Lounge, or a shopping excursion with Ellen. Of course, it had been several months since I’d last seen Grim’s former secretary. I could accept half the blame for that.

Ellen hated harvesting souls. It was an acquired taste, and she had a millennium of experience in an entirely different occupation that she had enjoyed. I wasn’t the one who had vasectomized the Throne of Eternity and put an end to the centennial addition of new reapers, but Ellen accused me of being the catalyst for Grim going off the deep end—which was fair—and so she considered me the responsible party for her unsavory situation—which was totally not fair.

Whenever we spent time together, the conversation always found its way around to my ties with Jenni Fang. When had I last spoken to her? Did she seem overwhelmed with paperwork? Was her coffee mug full?

I didn’t have the heart to tell Ellen that Regina, the nephilim who had replaced her at the front desk, was working out just fine. I’d had my reservations about the winged newbie her first few months, but aside from a handful of docket mix-ups, she’d managed to keep things in order at Reapers Inc. for the past decade. She’d even collaborated with Warren and the Fates on a new digital docket system.

The tablet interface required serious security measures with facial recognition and duress lock-out codes. Though I was most interested in the features that allowed me to shave half an hour off the workday. The instant data transfer meant daily visits to the office were no longer necessary.

Unfortunately, Warren couldn’t fix my busted scythe without an in-person visit.

I shucked my work robe and parted ways with Kevin and Eliza at the harbor, leaving them to deliver the day’s catch without me. Coin travel was deactivated within the city. With no throne soul, there was no way of changing that. The travel booths were still operational, but I opted to save my money and walk.

I skipped the busy historic district down Morte Avenue and took Council Street instead. As I neared the park, my gaze drew up, taking in a pale crease slashed across the sky. The white lines spiderwebbed over a smear of lilac marring the deeper evening blue. It looked like crinkled paper, or maybe a wispy tangle of clouds.

For how little things had changed in Eternity since the throne had been broken, the realm where Naledi and her Apparition Agency once lived began decomposing almost immediately. The gaping hole Grim had ripped in the sky wasn’t so much healing as it was filling in.

The pocket realm was disappearing. Fading from existence. The travel booths no longer accepted it as a destination either. Gabriel and Maalik had attempted to enter from above, but there’d been nothing to see. No ground to land upon. Ten years later, this faded crease in the sky was all that remained of the throne realm.

Nostalgia stabbed at my heart as my gaze dropped to the bronze statues and marble bench in the park below. Visiting the memorials always drenched me in melancholy, but it also reminded me of how lucky I was. Not just to be alive, but to have had Saul and Josie—and even Coreen—in my life at all.

I shoved my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket and headed on down Council Street, vowing to return for a proper visit soon. Maybe I’d drag Kevin and Gabriel along, too. Or take the hounds for a run around the city to enjoy the cooler air and clear my lungs of brimstone. My Limbo City daydreaming was put on hold as I neared the entrance of Reapers Inc.

Warren still lived at Holly House, but he’d moved his workshop to the seventy-first floor of the Reapers Inc. building, one floor above the Nephilim Guard station. Which also happened to be two floors below the Afterlife Council headquarters. Run-ins with council members never seemed to go well for me, so I avoided them if at all possible. With the exception of Meng Po, whom I visited at least once a month to have tea with her, Jai Ling, and Jack.

A pair of reapers pushed through the double doors, and I jerked to a stop, my heart lurching at the thought of bumping into Holly or Cindy, Ridwan or Maalik. I wished like hell I had Morgan’s invisibility necklace on me, but that would have been a cowardly misuse of the relic. Not to mention the questions it would raise if the security footage was reviewed. I didn’t need to give the council a reason to take anything else away from me.

I sucked in a deep a breath and darted inside the building, avoiding making eye contact with anyone on my way to the elevators. I lucked out and slipped in with a pair of nephilim as the doors to their lift began sliding shut.

“Seventy-fifth floor?” the taller of the two asked, his wings shuddering as he gave me a once-over, taking in the dark hair and pale complexion that marked me as a reaper.

“Seventy-first, please.” I patted the sheath fastened to my hip, making sure it was still there.

The nephilim nodded and pressed the button for the correct floor. The button for the sixty-ninth was already lit on the panel, which could only mean they were new trainees for the Guard.

Jenni Fang’s solution to the hellcats plaguing the mortal side was to send the Nephilim Guard out to investigate and round up any strays reported on harvests. The problem had become severe enough that the latest digital docket upgrade included an automatic incident report feature, but it was spreading the Guard too thin. They’d had to up their recruiting efforts and offer sign-on bonuses.

The elevator paused to let its feathered passengers off before continuing upward, and I heaved a sigh of relief when it reached my destination without stopping to collect anyone new. Part of me resented the anxiety I managed to carry around all these years later. I feared I would always be making a conscious effort to stay out of everyone’s way in this city. No matter my accomplishments. It couldn’t be helped.

“Well, well, well,” Warren greeted me in the lobby of his armory. A blacksmith apron hung around his neck, protecting the green plaid flannel and khakis he wore beneath. “We meet again, my old foe,” he said in a playful, craggy voice. “What have you broken this time?”

“It wasn’t my fault—this hellcat was extra feisty,” I explained before unhooking the sheathed scythe. Warren heaved an annoyed sigh as he accepted it from me.

“These were supposed to be for emergencies only, to keep unruly souls in line. Their design is more for show than battle.”

“It was an emergency!” I insisted. “I could have lost a soul.”

“Lana.” He pressed his lips together. “This is like, the tenth one you’ve either broken or lost.”

“That last one was defective.” My chest puffed out defensively, and I jabbed a finger at my face. “It nearly put my eye out!”

“That’s only because you tried to fold it up with a mangled blade.”

“I’ve worked with butterknives more durable.”

Warren bristled and turned away from me. “You’re lucky I like you.” He pressed the telescoping button on the holster that doubled as the scythe’s grip once it was extended. The shaft unfolded as expected, clicking softly as each piece aligned with the last. Until it reached the very end.

The hooked blade was thin and flexible. It had to be so it would fit inside the cylindrical sheath. And though it was sharper than hell, it was flimsy. As evident by the way the blade at the end of my scythe dangled haphazardly, creaking out a pitiful tale of abuse.

“The hinge is busted,” Warren snapped. “What’d you do, step on it again?”

“No.” I flushed, recalling my first mishap with the gadget. “I told you, there was a hellcat. The blade got stuck behind the beast’s eye socket.”

“Uh huh.” Warren sighed and fingered the loose joint that required repair. “I’ll have Lindy fix this up by Friday. Can I trust you with a loaner in the meantime?”

“Of course.” I gave him a tight smile that he returned with a grimace.

“Yup,” he said, wings twitching. “You’re so lucky I like you.”

“I am, aren’t I?”

“Come on, then.” Warren waved his free arm, directing me to follow him down a side hallway off the lobby. There was no front desk or secretary, but he did have three employees to help make and repair his weapons and gadgets now.

If ever there were a rags-to-riches story among Warren’s kind, it was his. His arsenal continued to evolve in leaps and bounds, from a trunk that had served as his coffee table in a rundown basement apartment, to a spare bedroom in his condo at Holly House, and now to an entire floor in a skyscraper.

I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride for having played a part in his rise to fame and fortune. For all the grief I’d caused Warren since, I knew he still held me in high esteem. Clearly, if he was willing to loan me a scythe after the way mine looked.

“How’s the soul gauntlet litigation going?” I asked as we curled around a corner and paused at a locked door. Warren groaned. It was a touchy subject, but I was curious.

“The Afterlife Council declined the latest model. Now they want me to integrate it with the digital dockets so that the cuff will only accept approved souls. They’re worried about the damage a soul poacher might do if they get ahold of one.”

“Sure they are.” I scoffed. The Afterlife Council had too much time on their hands with no throne or soul matter to squabble over. So now they had to find other ways to validate their position and pay—even if that was just being a pain in everyone else’s ass. It seemed those closest to me had suffered the most. Like Warren. But he wasn’t letting it slow him down by much.

He pressed his hand to a screen beside the door we’d stopped at and leaned forward so a laser on a second panel could scan his eyes. It felt like overkill, but he was harboring quite a lethal collection.

“Passcode,” a computerized voice demanded.

“Hairy cherub,” Warren answered. A second later, the lock released, and the door popped open.

I snorted. “Some password.”

“It’s not, actually.” Warren grinned. “I can say anything I like. The computer is simply measuring the pitch and tone of my voice to determine if I’m being coerced.”

“Fancy.”

“The door will still open, mind you. For five seconds. Then it will lock again, trapping anyone inside, and the Guard will be alerted.”

I gave the threshold a cautious glance as I followed him inside the room, hoping the system hadn’t detected the anxiety my heavy-handedness surely caused Warren. I was glad he hadn’t entered his techno-security phase until after I’d helped Tasha Henry escape. I was sure they were making good use of this new skillset of his at the Nephilim Guard headquarters, too.

The overhead lights were muted by the black interior of the room. Square shelves filled with scythe sheaths and loose shaft pieces outlined blade-laden pegboards. The opposite wall held bins of hardware and tools for assembling. Only a narrow stack of shelves on the far wall held finished product.

Warren deposited my busted weapon on a stainless-steel table that stretched the length of the room and fetched a new scythe before turning back to me. “Here we go,” he said, pulling it out of my reach as I grasped for it. “Take it easy on this one, yeah?”

“Oh, for sure.” I squeaked out a nervous laugh, and he reluctantly handed over the scythe. I was extra delicate while fastening it to my belt. “See? Safe and sound.”

“Uh huh.” Warren’s shoulders sagged. Maybe he liked me, but that didn’t mean he was confident in my ability not to break his precious creations.

“It’s only for a few days, right?” I offered, trying to soothe his concern. “I probably won’t even need to use it.”

“Uh huh.” A feather shook loose from his wings. Great, he was already molting on me.

We retraced our steps to the lobby, where I thanked him again before pressing the button for an elevator. I was ready to get out of there and head back to the harbor where I could coin home and share a bottle of wine with my demon.

And I would have done just that, if Jenni Fang hadn’t been waiting for me when the elevator doors slid open.

"Life After Death" will be available December 21st, 2021.

Find it at your favorite e-bookstore today! 

https://angelaroquet.com/books_life_after_death

Grab You Scythe! It's Time to Visit Limbo City! #RPG

I think every author daydreams about seeing their novels on the big (or small) screen. There are quite a few of us who also fantasize about seeing our characters and worlds brought to life in other ways. Sometimes that translates into some super cool swag, like the Purgatory Lounge and Ambrosia Ale beer glasses I do giveaways for on occasion.

(Psst! These will also be available at the new online store I'll be launching this summer. Woot!)

And sometimes awesome game designers, like Lester Smith, creator of the D6xD6 RPG, reach out and invite you to be a part of their world. (Did anyone else sing that in an Ariel voice? No? Just me?) Anyway... Lester's popular D6xD6 RPG is constantly evolving as he adds new expansion chapters, often set in worlds from fan favorite book series. The latest of which is set in the world of Lana Harvey. Squeeee!!!

I had a blast working with Lester on this project, and I'm so excited to play in Limbo City! I hope you are too. : )  If you give it a go, drop me a line and let me know how your campaign fared. I'm anxious to hear what you think of the expansion chapter. And if you're new to D6xD6, the link for the core book is above too. You can also find a digital set of the core book rules for FREE on the D6xD6 website. Lester has already taken the Lana chapter (available for 99 cents) for a test drive at Gary Con, and it sounds like it went over quite well. : )

Okay. I better get back to work. Only a few weeks until Ghost Market, Lana Harvey book 6, is released, and there's still editing and marketing details to attend to. Eeep! Happy reading and gaming!

xoxo