Anathema Pt. 01

Nevermind the fact that it wasn't all bright eyes and bushy tails trying to track these fuckers. They knew we were coming and they kept moving until we were close enough that the soul piece stopped them, but the nature of what I am means I don't stop.

My quarry stops, holes up for the night or a few hours or whatever. They rest. I don't. My last tracking case that had just ended had me awake for just under two hundred hours straight following the guy only to be woken after two hours of sleep to come parlay with this lady.

"I get to keep Billings. He tastes good," I say. "And I get to bring coffee to Charon, the poor man has been awake for eons."

"I can arrange that." The relief in Lucy's voice doesn't register with me.

"I'm also not starting this hunt until I've gotten some sleep. Make damn sure I have the right object for this guy in the Underworld. I will not go back a second time if I get a wrong number."

"You have twenty-four hours to start," she says.

"Forty-eight," I finally look back at her again. "I was just awake for two hundred hours straight with a two hour nap afterward. That kind of thing would make your fluffy little head explode. The guy's not going anywhere, and there is no statute of limitations for this."

"This is not a negotiation, Agent Jackson." She pulls herself straight up in her chair, and I just smile at her. I know it's not a nice smile because she pales a bit. If she faints again, I'm pulling my phone out and snapping a picture.

"Then you can go ask Hades himself where this guy is. The fun thing about being one of five people in the world able to go into the Underworld is it's a seller's market. I have something you want and your offers are lacking bordering on offensive. If you see Anubis down there tell that asshole he owes me a lap dance." I slide the file back to her side of the table and get out of my chair, heading for the door without a backward glance.

"Fine!" She calls before the door can close behind me. I turn and catch it, poking my head back in to look at her. "Forty-eight hours to rest and everything else you asked for."

"Pleasure doing business with you," I smile at her then look at G. "You're kind of my ride."

Billings stands and shakes G's hand and the lieutenant's, but doesn't say anything to Lucy before turning to me. "Actually, I think I am."

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

Truth be told, the only thing I had noticed about him had been his over-full soul. He was tall, which had been a little obvious when he all but engulfed me in a chair while on his knees. His shoulders in the standard Fed-issue suit were broad and his waist was trim. The hair I had been playing with was dark brown and mussed a bit, and he had the greenest eyes I had ever seen outside of a dream. Recognition chimed through me when I looked into his eyes. Shit, that was eerie.

Before he can walk for the door, G hands Billings one of his cards and mutters something about texting later. I miss it because I skedaddle out of the conference room before someone can try to say something else. I'm energized from the feeding and the tacos, but it's not going to last. I just hope I make it long enough to get into pajamas or at least out of the bra before I pass out for the next day or two.

A hand on my back pulls me out of my thoughts and then Billings is leading me toward the tunnel to the jailhouse. "Did you eat? Regular food, I mean."

"G had tacos and coffee with him when he picked me up." There were reasons G was the best, and always bringing me coffee was one of them. That might have been self-defense on his part, but it was appreciated all the same. "I just need to be aimed in the general direction of my bed before I pass out."

"How far is your place?"

"Half an hour, give or take depending on traffic."

He leads me to a small black sedan that's definitely a personal vehicle and parked right across from the bridge. Somehow I missed the elevator and most of the rest of the trek, and also whatever he's been talking about. The car is comfy with soft black leather and it smells like honey. I can't remember if he smelled like honey or not, but the car smells like his soul tastes. Does G's truck smell that way? I can't remember that, either.

===

I wake in a bed that smells like sin incarnate with a heavy warmth covering about half of my body. I lay there and try to recall the day, but all I can remember is G bringing me tacos and something happening with work.

"Morning," a deep voice rumbles through me from the heavy warmth. The bed moves and then the heavy warmth morphs into a chest scandalously covered by some sort of athletic looking tank top. I look down and find myself in a t-shirt and what appear to be boxers that aren't mine.

"Where am I?"

"You passed out in my car before I could get your address out of you. I'm Quin, by the way. Uh, Quin Billings. Your new Feeder."

"Yay, a new keeper," I snark. "I need a bathroom and then coffee and food, and then you can catch me up on work stuff."

"I have to say I expected more freaking out about this," he moves over and I sit up. Pointing, he mumbles, "Bathroom's there."

"Most Feeders are more perky than this," I look at him, then I look at him. He's almost on empty. Shit.

"Don't worry. I recharge faster than most and you were hungrier than anything I've ever seen. You've been asleep a little over twenty hours, and you fed three times in your sleep."

I go to the bathroom then climb back in the bed next to him. It's cold as the Underworld in his place. He snuggles back half on top of me like when I woke up. "Sorry I drained you."

"Even in your sleep you're gentle," he mumbles. "I'll be full again in a couple hours. You fed just before you woke up."

"Tell me what I missed. I only vaguely remember going to work for something."

He tells me the parts I don't remember, which is most of it, and that I have an Underworld assignment set to begin in just over a day. He's also apparently been texting with G about all my likes and dislikes, so while I was in the bathroom he ordered tacos and coffee. "Why did you make bringing coffee to Charon a condition of you taking this assignment?"

"It worked?" He nods against my shoulder and I let out a little squeal of laughter. "That never works. He's going to be so happy. He's been asking for a caramel frappucino for ages, but they kept telling me it was a bribe."

"Are you using it to get a ride across the River Styx?"

"What? No. Most of the death deities have standing orders that Predators on a hunt can get in and out at will. It's why I have to have the piece before I go to the Underworld. Charon knows every soul he ferries across, so if the soul I'm after hasn't crossed, neither do I. If I try to drag a soul out of the Underworld, Charon won't let me cross. That whole don't look back schtick was a one-time thing. A Predator breaking the rules - either trying to get in without a proper hunt or trying to bring a soul out - doesn't leave the Underworld."

"Then the coffee isn't a bribe at all. I'd say bring it every time you have to go, but that's me."

"That's what I've been saying this whole time." I move enough so I can look at him on the pillow next to me. "Why isn't this uncomfortable?"

"From what I understand, it's part of how it works between a Predator and a Feeder. If the Feeder matches whatever the Predator needs, they tend to just be comfortable together."

"So you matched my picky eating tendencies?"

He laughs, "Yeah. Something like that. If they don't match, the pairing doesn't last long."

I look up at the ceiling. He didn't need to explain that one. There was a reason G hadn't been reassigned even after his daughter proved to be a Predator. The more powerful the Predator, the pickier we seemed to be about our Feeders. I was one of only five Predators strong enough to cross over into the Underworld, and we were all a little froo froo when it came to our eating habits. G and I worked, and he was able to pull me back from the temporary Feeders when I wanted to take too much.

"Why did you get quiet just now?"

"Just thinking." I didn't say I was thinking about the Feeder I went too far with. Nobody wanted to know the horror stories. "Did they send over the piece I need for the assignment?"

"Not yet," his voice is a little stiffer. Maybe he's hurt I didn't tell him all my deep dark secrets, but he can get over it. I hear a faint bonging noise and he moves off the bed, revealing silky looking basketball type shorts and a lot of muscles that I hadn't been paying attention to. The bed is also immediately colder. It's like he took more than body heat with him. Then he calls out the sweetest words I've ever heard in my life, "Food and coffee are here."

Cold or not, I'm going out to eat.

===

For the first time in what feels like years, I actually feel refreshed as I sit in the passenger seat of the car. Quin wasn't lying when he said he recharged fast. It was like his soul was hooked up to the Energizer bunny or something. He said it didn't feel uncomfortable to leave it full, and I was gentle when I fed. I almost called bullshit on that because the last temp Feeder I'd had had complained that I was too harsh with them, but I could only go by what I felt and I usually tried to be nice about the act.

He turns into my apartment complex and parks in one of the guest spots, then follows me into my place. My apartment was a lot smaller than his, but since all I did was work and sleep for the most part I didn't think I needed that much space.

I let the hot water wash over me in the shower, taking my time. I don't want to go to the Underworld. I hadn't been kidding when I'd told the lady it was a sellers market. Getting permission to bring coffee to Charon was a small price to ask. So I took my time in the shower, cleaning the things that needed cleaning and shaving the bits that needed shaving. Even if I was the only one who really ever saw the shaved bits, I still shaved. I liked how the sheets felt after that in the moments I could remember.

I both love and hate the shower. I love it because it's a wonderful way to kill time when I don't want to do something. I hate it because it makes me think about all the things I might be missing. G always filled me in about things. He knew time worked funny for me. Now I had to train up a whole new keeper, and I really hoped I didn't leave out anything important.

Standing in front of the mirror, twisting my hair back into a bun while it was still wet, I was out of ways to stall this. I got as dry as I possibly could and then got dressed in my leathers. Leather doesn't really breathe and it's not very warm, but I would be damned if I wanted to fall in the streets of the Underworld and catch something from the scratch. Leather is real good at protecting my own skin.

I walk out of my room and Billings chokes, barely covering a laugh, "It's a little hot for that much leather, don't you think?"

"When you can make it down to the Underworld and say you're comfy walking around in flimsy fabrics, you can judge my leather. Besides," I grab my trench coat from the closet by the door, "it's almost as cold as your apartment in the Underworld."

The trench coat was lined with something that almost held in my own body heat in the Underworld. I would swear Persephone keeps it cold there just to annoy Hades, but it's cold even when she's not there. I grab my keys and wallet, and then we get back in his car.

Quin drove us through the streets of the city toward the Armpit. Don't ask me why it was named the Armpit, but it was. The Armpit is a homeless tent city under a cluster of overpasses. The city doesn't clear it out because then it would just move to a different location, and also because it has some of the lowest crime rates in the entire state.

The human authorities credited diligent patrols, but it was really because inside a rusted out VW Thing was a gate to the Underworld. This particular gate was guarded by a pair of wraiths who looked suspiciously like Jay and Silent Bob, but not nearly as entertaining. Cerberus still guards the gate at Mount Olympus. I have made it a goal in my life never to find myself in Greece because I do not want to meet that dog.

"How is there a gate to the Underworld here?" He asks as he drives.

"No idea," I shrug. "As far as I know, there's a gate wherever there's a Predator that can use it. If one of us dies, the nearest gate will disappear and a new one will pop up close to the next Predator strong enough to cross. The only permanent gate is at Mount Olympus."

"So what happens there? When you cross over?"

I fidget in my seat and run my finger over the lid of the biggest caramel frappucino I could find. "If I'm lucky, nothing happens when I go there. I get to the dock, Charon makes sure I have the piece," I wave the little test tube, "and I go on my merry hunt through the streets of Rome circa Caligula."

"And if you're not lucky?"

"If I'm not lucky, I get to play cards with gods." I look out the window as we get closer to the Armpit. "You should know that I'm going to come back phased. Depending on who I see there, it could be just my eyes or partial fangs. Don't try to feed me when I come back, and don't try to open the gate."

"What do you mean?"

I sigh and grumble. This was the part I had been dreading in the shower. G knew all of this before he ever came to me because he had worked with Nelda. Quin didn't have that experience, or any experience from what I could tell without flat asking him. Even for me that would be rude. "G said it's mostly like I just sit there. You won't see me leave, but you might feel my hunger. When I come back, don't try to touch me unless I reach for you. Touching in general can be pretty bad."

"You were fine when you woke up."

"I wasn't phased, Quin. When I'm phased, unless I reach for you, it's not a good idea to try to touch me." I had no idea if other Predators could be touched when they were phased or hunting, but I couldn't. Bad things happened when someone tried to touch me on a hunt. "Call G and talk to him about this. From what he told me it's going to look like I'm sitting in a rusted out car for a minute. He can explain it better. I don't see it from your end, and I don't feel the hunger in the Underworld at all." He parks and I get out of the car and head toward a rusted out Volkswagen Thing.

Thing One and Thing Two stood like they were going to block my path until I phased. My hair that had been a cheery green under the glamour bled to black and I had to adjust my hold on the flimsy plastic cup so my talons didn't rip it to shreds. As soon as I phased, the wraiths shuffled back to their guarding positions and I pulled open the passenger door of the Thing.

Transitioning into the Underworld implies something showy happening. We've all seen movies like "Constantine" where Hell is depicted as this wasting land that mirrors the living world, and Keanu has to fry himself to get there, or shows like "Supernatural" where the guys die and talk to Death and then come back. Even that one movie where that demi-god guy goes and kills Medusa shows something of the Underworld. They're all wrong, but the reality would have made for a boring movie.

I sit in the Thing, shut the door, and hit the door lock then I get back out and walk down to a dock. The River Styx makes the Amazon River look like a trickle, and at the edge of that vast space is this teensy little wooden dock. While everything here looks lush and green, and the river appears thick with silt at this point, it's got to be in the single digits. I'm told the water is warm if you're brave enough to stick a hand in. Heck, some woman dunked her entire baby in it and he didn't freeze so I'm inclined to believe the water is fine.

It doesn't take long before the boat can be seen on the horizon. A lone figure stands at one end with a wicked long pole, pushing his way along the river. Charon would be a heartbreaker if he were alive. All bonze skin, almond shaped eyes, strong nose and jaw and thick black hair. Not to mention the arms that power his boat or the abs visible above the little skirt thing he wears. The man also puts out some serious heat, like a small bonfire.

"Oh, it's you," he says when he's still a good twenty yards out away from the dock. "Be a doll and grab the mooring line, Predator."

I toss him the line as he finishes bringing his boat in. I'm the only soul on the dock at the moment, but not because I'm special. Or maybe I am special. Either way, the flow of souls stops when a Predator is on the dock. Charon might ferry me across, and if he does it will be on an otherwise empty boat. When I leave, there will be souls queued up, and they'll part like the Red Sea before me. Nobody wants to be eaten before they have been properly weighed and measured, and frankly I didn't want to accidentally eat any of them. That would be the height of rudeness.

Once the boat is gently rocking against the dock, Charon stands in front of me. "Do you have the piece?"

I can tell he's trying to make his voice sound more foreboding, and I fight the urge to giggle. It gets boring doing the same thing all the time, so he tries to mix it up a little. Eternity is a long time, and the list of new things to try is unfortunately not endless. I dump the tooth out of the evidence tube and watch as he shakes it in his palm like it's a die about to be cast.

"I don't have the name this time."

"He's here," Charon rolls the tooth in his fingers like a worry stone, dropping the voice thing. "Hop on."

I step onto the boat, then pull the coffee out from behind my back where I had been holding it. "I brought you a surprise."

"Oh, sweet Hades," Charon flings the mooring line back to the dock and walks toward me to take the sugary iced beverage from me. The long carved pole he usually uses to steer the boat moves of its own accord, driving us through the water. "How did you convince them this time?"

"I'm the only one who would take the case, so I took full advantage."

He chuckles and his deep red eyes glitter. He hates federal agents, says they're always assholes on the crossing. Apparently no matter who we work for, Predators are always welcome in the Underworld if we have a valid reason to be here. Charon moves up to his spot by the stick and motions me next to him. "You never dress warm enough to be here."

I stand next to Charon. He's putting off enough heat to melt the ice caps. Last time I was down here he made me stand at the back of the boat because I said I couldn't bring coffee. He finishes the big frozen drink before I can even see the far shore and somehow doesn't get brain freeze. Lucky bastard.

The cup disappears in a little puff of smoke that spills from his palm and down into the water. I try not to follow it with my gaze. The River Styx is freaky on a good day. If I don't look directly at it, just view it on the whole as a river, it looks like muddy water. Just like looking at the Mississippi or any other big river topside. Look too closely, though, and it's clear that the River Styx is full of souls.

Not ghosts or phantoms that have a shadow of the form they had held in life. Raw souls that don't have a form anymore.

The River Styx is filled with the souls of those who didn't have a coin to give the boatman, those who went unclaimed in their passing with no one to honor them in their death. The River Styx is one reason it's so important to care about the dead.

Finally the far shore comes into view and it looks just like the shore we just left, right down to the dinky little dock jutting out. The mooring line snakes its way onto the boat and around a post, steering us with no help from Charon. Had I not thrown the rope to him on the other side, that line would have done the same.