William leans forward. “In order to hold the souls of the damned, you have to have a soul yourself.” He waves his hand towards Bernard. “As you can see, I’m a little short on soulful creatures. But with a quick spell, I can make you exactly what I need. You will have a contingent working for you, an army of demons at your beck and call and you can have the apartment below mine.”
My insides squirm with unease. He’s making it sound simple. When in reality it is anything but, one does not simply eat souls without consequences. “What’s the catch?” I ask.
He quirks an eyebrow and runs a hand over his smooth head. “The catch is that you will house the souls of the damned within you. You will need to learn to cage your soul to stop it from becoming infected with greed. I believe you are strong enough.”
“And if I say no?”
His grin turns predatory. “Then you can take your chances on the streets. But,” he catches my eyes, his blue irises bleeding to black, “no soul bearer has survived on the streets for more than a week.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and glance at Bernard, whose features have tightened. His tail twitches. “Do I get to pick my team?”
William narrows his gaze, then glances at Bernard. “You want my Master at Arms?” I nod. The demon has gained a small amount of my trust with his well-placed advice. William sighs and flicks his hand. “Very well. Bernard is yours to command. But, Duncan,” William pauses until he has my full attention, “Bernard is loyal to me, never forget that.”
* * *
The apartment below is identical to William’s down to the furniture layout. Seems my host isn’t big on individuality. Bernard stalks my every move with his eyes as I scope the apartment; a gadget ridden kitchen, two master bedrooms with matching bathrooms, and a dining area for eight.
“The Prince is having clothing delivered soon,” Bernard says. “You followed my advice.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “I had nothing to lose, and I’m normally a good judge of character.”
“Most people tend to judge me on my appearance and address.”
“Well, I’m not most people,” I state. “What now?”
He grimaces. “Now we prepare you for the spell.”
“How?”
“Take a shower. There’s a robe on the back of the door. Dress in that only. The Prince will be along shortly with the realm’s chief sorcerer. They will perform the spell which will alter your soul. The sorcerer will help you cage your soul, to protect it.”
“Should I trust him?”
Bernard cocks his head. “It is in their interest to keep you alive for as long as possible. Soul eaters have short lifespans if they cannot contain the damned.”
I bob my head. “Makes sense. Wait here.” I stalk into the bathroom and run through the motions of cleansing myself to prepare for a spell that will alter me on a molecular level. I will still be me, but I will be changed. The alternative is to be lost on the streets with little hope of survival, I swallow the lump of fear and shake my head at myself in the mirror. I have to fight to live and this is the best way. My faith is still strong that I will return to Natia’s side one day; but this war of the gods is hers to wage, mine is here in Greed where I battle for my soul. I straighten my spine, firm my lips and nod at my reflection.
Minutes later, I’m standing in the sitting room wrapped in a white robe, my damp hair plastered to my forehead and nape. Bernard has moved the coffee table to one side and pushed the sofas back, leaving the plush rug bare of furniture. Bernard stands guard at the elevator as we wait in silence for the beings that will change the course of my life in favor of their own needs.
The elevator dings and William strolls out, followed by a robed figure, their hands tucked into alternate sleeves and face shielded by a dark hood as they shuffle across the floor. The wave of power from the robed figure singes the hair on my arms.
“Are you ready?” William asks.
“Unless there’s an opening in accounts?” I chuckle, although I’m being serious.
“All admin positions are currently filled.” William laughs. “Plus, a man of your talents would be wasted on paperwork. I need you at the forefront cleaning the streets for me.”
“How will I know who is to be erased?” I ask as the robed figure produces candles from nowhere and lays them in a circle around the rug.
“Bernard and his team will point them out to you.”
The robed guy stands and reveals his boney hands. I don’t mean thin—I mean they are bones. Like the typical grim reaper. He reaches up and pushes his hood back. I go still as every molecule in my body stands to attention in the presence of Death.
“You recognize a death demon?” William asks, glancing between me and the boney figure. His face is a distorted skeleton, like someone managed to melt bone and forge it into the grotesque figure before me.
“It’s a natural defense to know when Death stares you in the face,” I say as William ushers me into the circle.
“He’s here to infuse you with the power of Death. It will enable you to eat their souls like him. Afterwards I will teach you how to cage your own soul.”
