Page 27 of Judge of Saints and Sinners

“No,” I gritted out, surprised at how difficult speaking was. “I want you to stay.”

I reached out, fingers tracing the letters carved there.

Anna Stuart

Beloved Mother and Wife

1948-1974

“She never met a stranger. We met one night when Cerberus thought she was going to be hurt. I stepped in, and she thought I was an angel there to save her. But instead, I demanded the soul she carried, the one that bound us together.”

I could hear the sharp intake of breath from Justine, but I pushed on. “Of course, she told me to go back to Hell. But if I wanted to clean up my act, then she’d buy me a cup of coffee. I didn’t know what to say, so I agreed. And then we just talked for hours. She was happily married, with two little boys. Back then, demons could come and go through the living world whenever we wanted. I was invited to family dinners and even a birthday celebration one day. She was kind and saw the good in everything. I’m…well…me, and she was always convinced that I was so much better than I really was.”

The grooves of the stones were rough there around the death date, the stone biting into my flesh as I pressed. “She was killed by a drunk driver on her way to meet me. I was late, too busy fighting with my father to realize I’d nearly forgotten her.”

“Oh, Judge.”

“She was so much better than me. And yet she considered me a friend, even at the end.”

“Sounds like you were very lucky to have her.”

“As it turns out, she was very unlucky to have me.”

“Don't say it like that.”

“I chased her soul, you know. In the underworld.” My eyes closed, the memory so clear, so vivid I could almost feel the delicate weight of her soul in my arms again. Breathing deep, I let it take me away.

Back to the day I had failed her and my family in one fell swoop.

***

Fifty Years Before

Nephesh

In my centuries of life, everything had been gathering up to the point that I’d be granted a chance to reclaim my soul. And then I found her, my Anna, the first human I’d ever really known. The first human I’d really loved. My only friend.

Her husband had trusted me. Her sons had looked up to me.

And now, the only part of her left was the rapidly cooling blood that dripped down my fingers to the cement below. Lights flashed around us, the bright blues and reds that had brought the hoard of humans to my side.

Not that they’d been able to do anything. Nothing was done. Her soul was gone, her body cold on the ground. Nothing would ever be right again.

My head had slowly tilted back, staring up at the sky as I waited for one of the sparse clouds that were out to pass away from the crescent moon. My chest filled and expanded as I breathed in the fury and grief and let it course through my system. It wasn’t power, this overwhelming emotion, but it was something else entirely.

I began to walk away. The humans behind me shouted, but I didn’t care anymore. My legs carried me away, guiding me down to a deserted park a few blocks down from the park. There was nothing here, just singed grass and low-lying bushes. It was as ordinary and burned as everything else in the living world.

“Father,” I said, kneeling in the stiff grass, “you would do the same thing. Forgive me.”

And summoning every bit of grief, pain, desperation, I let my power loose. It moved and grew under my skin, distorting my form, distorting who I was. My heart ached with pain, the vicious muscle violently pumping blood through my form. A cruel reminder that it was my fault that hers no longer functioned.

And still, my power rose. There was no holding it back, no keeping myself under control. Grief was more than I’d ever known, even when my mother disappeared.

Even when I’d first been told what I was under my pretty exterior. This was beyond all of that. It threatened to override everything else I knew about myself. Releasing my grief in a flame of pure, raw power, I thrust my fist into the earth.

With a shrieking cry, I burst through the veil, falling into my father’s kingdom. My wings spread, unfurling from my shoulders with another flare of long-dormant power.

Pumping the powerful joints, I banked and headed towards the mouth of the Styx. The pier of Kalos was my destination. And when my boots slammed into the soft soil alongside the pier, I knew I wouldn't have to wait long. Either Kharon was here, or he would be soon. My magic and grief swirled around me in a thick red mist, obscuring my vision and any remaining doubts I might have considered. Nothing else mattered except for undoing this horrible thing.