Women of the Otherworld 09.5 - Angelic Read Free

play on that equipment—children continue aging until they reach adulthood—but most afterlife cities are exact replicas of human ones, stuck in a particular time period.
     
    “You have every right to want to quit right now,” he began.
     
    “Hell, yes. I had every right years ago. I’m pissed off.” And not just at the Fates . I’d expected Kristof to jump in with schemes to free me from my obligation. One look at his face, though, and I knew what was coming—some variation on “slow down and think about this.”
     
    We might share the same “get the job done at any cost” mentality, but while I’d plied my trade alone on the road, Kristof had plied his as the second-in-command and heir apparent to his family’s multinational corporation. That meant we had very different approaches. He’d plot and plan, and proceed with care. I dove in where, well, where most angels feared to tread.
     
    Sure enough, he started telling me to do this one job, then we’d discuss the situation when I returned. For now, I should simply make it clear to the Fates that this was a favor, and demand that I get twice as much time added onto my ghost leave.
     
    “Which is exactly what I’m sick of doing,” I said, striding to the swing set. “Bitching, complaining, negotiating little concessions from them. It’s not enough anymore.”
     
    “I know, but just slow down and—”
     
    “So you’re not going to help me?” I said.
     
    “Of course, I’ll help you. Just do this one job first, then we’ll have six months to plan—”
     
    I teleported out before he could finish.



Four
     
    Without Kristof’s help, I could forget any sophisticated exit strategy. That was fine, because I don’t do sophisticated. I like plain and simple, and there was a plain and simple way to get myself fired. Fast, too, which was a bonus.
     
    I recovered my sword and set out, transporting to a field in living-world Scotland. Distant castle spires shimmered in the early morning sun. I told myself, again, that I really needed to find a teleport code to get me into the castle, but using this one was safer, though it did mean tramping through a field of cow shit. Even Trsiel—who’d given me this code—didn’t dare pop straight into the castle, for fear of alerting the Fates. As for why my full angel partner had this code at all, let’s just say there was a reason the Fates had paired us up.
     
    I looked at the castle.
     
    “Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be what thou art promised: yet do I fear thy nature.”
     
    One of the long-haired Highland cows rolled her eyes.
     
    “Hey, it’s the only Shakespeare I remember. I’m damned well going to use it every chance I get.”
     
    I started tramping. The cows lumbered aside. Like most animals, they could hear and sense ghosts—they just didn’t realize that getting out of my way wasn’t really necessary.
     
    So I trekked over the field, across the castle grounds, through the big doors, up the winding staircase… I really needed that direct-pass code.
     
    Finally, I heard a tour guide ahead.
     
    “And another Glamis ghost is believed to peer out that very window,” she was saying. “The White Lady, Janet Douglas, widow of the sixth Lord Glamis. A witch they say. She was burned at the stake for conspiring to poison King James V. Historians have never found any evidence she was part of the conspiracy, though, and her death is believed to be simple political revenge. Her ghost is said to haunt this staircase, constantly watching for the men who came to kill her.” She led the group around the corner, her voice fading. “And so, with all the stories I’ve told so far, you can see why this is considered the most haunted castle in Scotland.”
     
    Actually, it was the least haunted. Having a high-ranking demon walled up here tended to scare off the regular spooks. I could see the White Lady, though, standing just where legend placed her, endlessly watching. She wasn’t