Cat's Claw (16 page)
Authors: Amber Benson
Tags: #Fantasy, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #General, #Fantasy fiction, #Fiction - Fantasy, #Science Fiction And Fantasy, #Fantasy - Contemporary
I couldn’t believe how great Jarvis was being about the whole thing. Instead of taking the opportunity to ridicule me, he’d been kinder to me than I had any right to. A big, wet tear slid down my face and I was so surprised that I didn’t even make a move to wipe it away.
“Really?” I asked, another tear plopping onto my cheek.
Jarvis nodded.
“If you want me to take you to Purgatory, I will. But . . .”
Of course, there was always a “but,”
I thought to myself wryly.
I thought to myself wryly.
“Go on. Hit me,” I said, gritting my teeth.
Jarvis looked taken aback.
“I couldn’t! Really. No matter
how
impossibly you’ve behaved—” he gasped, his face blanching the color of a skinned potato.
how
impossibly you’ve behaved—” he gasped, his face blanching the color of a skinned potato.
“No, I mean, hit me with whatever the ‘but’ is.” I snorted, stealing a peek over at Clio, who was trying hard not to laugh, her hand looped into the back of Runt’s pink rhinestone halter.
“Oh my,” Jarvis murmured, covering his mouth with his hand, shocked as he realized what he’d just implied.
“Nice one, Jarvi,” I said, giving him the biggest, toothiest grin I could manage. He just shook his head, chagrined. After a moment, he looked up, his face composed.
“I suppose it’s a simple request, really,” he began hesitantly, “but one that would mean the world to me.”
I waited, wondering exactly what kind favor would
seem
simple to Jarvis, but would be like pulling teeth for me.
seem
simple to Jarvis, but would be like pulling teeth for me.
“I would like an introduction.”
Well, that one caught me completely off guard.
“An introduction?” Clio asked, apparently just as surprised by Jarvis’s request as I was.
Jarvis nodded, looking nervously between us.
“I want to meet the zaftig one.”
I almost choked on my own saliva.
“You wanna
what
?” I said, my voice coming out three octaves higher than normal.
what
?” I said, my voice coming out three octaves higher than normal.
“I would like to meet your boss.”
I shook my head.
“No, I heard you the first time.”
Clio tried to catch my gaze, eyes wide with shock. She had never met my boss, Hyacinth Stewart, but she had heard tale of the woman—and how badly she overworked me.
Of course, Jarvis wouldn’t find this request petrifying,
I thought miserably.
He obviously had a crush on the woman, which meant that no matter how overbearing and frightening she really was, she could do no wrong as far as he was concerned.
I thought miserably.
He obviously had a crush on the woman, which meant that no matter how overbearing and frightening she really was, she could do no wrong as far as he was concerned.
“I can’t believe you thought
this
was a small favor, Jarvis,” I said out loud, but the little faun must’ve thought I was joking because he didn’t seem the least bit bothered by my words—either that, or he just didn’t care
what
I thought.
this
was a small favor, Jarvis,” I said out loud, but the little faun must’ve thought I was joking because he didn’t seem the least bit bothered by my words—either that, or he just didn’t care
what
I thought.
“So, you’ll do it, then?” he said, his dark eyes shining with eagerness. He was even more excited than when I’d let him explain the inner workings of Death, Inc., to me down in Hell—and I thought he’d been animated back
then
.
then
.
“I don’t know what she’d say about meeting
you
.” I sighed. “I don’t think she has any idea that fauns even exist.”
you
.” I sighed. “I don’t think she has any idea that fauns even exist.”
Jarvis nodded as if what I was saying required some serious thought.
“Well, I could always use a spell,” he said, looking nervously between Clio and me. I think he was waiting for our approval and I didn’t have the heart not to give it to him.
“I think we should just wait before we start messing with any magic,” I offered, resting my chin on my hand.
“Yes, yes . . . of course, you’re completely correct,” Jarvis said, nodding his head. “We should just wait and see what the situation calls for.”
“But there is one other thing that I think you should know before I say yes to this insanity,” I added, not liking any of this one little bit. I had a very good idea that the only thing Jarvis was heading for when it came to dealing with Hyacinth Smith was heartbreak.
Well, on the lighter side, at least now I didn’t have to do any more guesstimating as far as Jarvis’s sexual proclivities were concerned; now I knew
exactly
what team my dad’s Executive Assistant played for. Jarvis was a BBW lover (for the acronym-impaired, that’s: Big Beautiful Women), and more power to him for his discerning taste. Actually, to tell you the truth, it made me like the little faun even more than I already did.
exactly
what team my dad’s Executive Assistant played for. Jarvis was a BBW lover (for the acronym-impaired, that’s: Big Beautiful Women), and more power to him for his discerning taste. Actually, to tell you the truth, it made me like the little faun even more than I already did.
Too bad the BBW
he
was obsessed with would chew him up and spit him out before he’d even realized what’d happened to him.
he
was obsessed with would chew him up and spit him out before he’d even realized what’d happened to him.
“She’s married . . .”
“But recently separated!” Jarvis chimed in.
He’s been doing his homework,
I mused.
I mused.
“Then you know she has a kid.”
Jarvis broke into a sly grin.
“Oh, is
this
all you were worried about?” he said, his fingers caressing the well-oiled ends of his mustache like the villain of an old-time movie serial.
this
all you were worried about?” he said, his fingers caressing the well-oiled ends of his mustache like the villain of an old-time movie serial.
“Yep, that’s all,” I replied.
Isn’t that enough?
I thought to myself.
I thought to myself.
“I really don’t foresee any of that being a problem, Mistress Calliope,” Jarvis said, sitting farther back in his chair. “No, I do not foresee that being a problem
at all
.”
at all
.”
As I watched a devious little smile overtake Jarvis’s handsome face, I actually started to rethink my whole position on the subject. Maybe it was Hy that was in for a little heartbreak.
“Okay, then. We have a deal,” I said, resigned to the idea that something about this trade-off was bound to backfire in my face.
I stuck out my hand to shake on it, sealing the deal, but Jarvis wouldn’t reciprocate. Instead, he held up his finger to stop me, then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his monogrammed handkerchief, draping it over my hand like some kind of antidirt sheath. Only
then
would he shake my hand.
then
would he shake my hand.
“Yes, we have a deal,” the faun said, grinning like a school-boy at me. “Besides, the sooner we get our hands on that Death Record, the sooner I can get my hands on those
lovely lady lumps
.”
lovely lady lumps
.”
As soon as those very out-of-character (or maybe they were more in character than I realized) words were out of Jarvis’s mouth, Clio and I exchanged horrified glances. I could see that she was thinking the exact same thing I was: In just
one
sentence, Jarvis had done the impossible. He’d embarrassed
both
of us more than we had ever been embarrassed in our entire lives . . .
and
he’d taken all the fun out of a particularly awesome Black Eyed Peas song.
one
sentence, Jarvis had done the impossible. He’d embarrassed
both
of us more than we had ever been embarrassed in our entire lives . . .
and
he’d taken all the fun out of a particularly awesome Black Eyed Peas song.
“Okay, horn dog,” I said, rolling my eyes in Jarvis’s direction. “Let’s go to Purgatory.”
ten
In the beginning, God looked at the universe that he/she created and saw that it was good.
The Angels would oversee Heaven, while the Devil took care of Hell. Both sides seemed happy with this arrangement and it all looked like it was going to start off swimmingly . . . until God got to Purgatory.
It seemed that the balance between Good and Evil that God had created by divvying out Heaven and Hell so fairly had left the stewardship of Purgatory—the way station by which the two planes were connected—open to subversion by any Tom, Dick, or Harry from both sides. If either Heaven or Hell were to overrun Purgatory and claim it as its own, the precarious balance between the two planes would shift and life as we know it would cease to exist.
Forever.
God, being the superintelligent creative force that he/she was, caught this flaw in his/her otherwise pretty awesomely crafted creation and decided that whatever being he/she picked to run Purgatory would have to be the
ultimate
in impartiality. This entity would need to possess both Good and Evil inside themselves, so that they would not judge one side with more ill will than the other. They would need to be extraordinarily fair, but also completely willing to make the hard, gut-churning decisions that any good boss has to make sometimes.
ultimate
in impartiality. This entity would need to possess both Good and Evil inside themselves, so that they would not judge one side with more ill will than the other. They would need to be extraordinarily fair, but also completely willing to make the hard, gut-churning decisions that any good boss has to make sometimes.
After much trial and tribulation, God had an epiphany. He/ she couldn’t believe that the solution had been staring him/her right in the face from the very beginning. The creature most suited to run Purgatory
and
oversee Death was none other than the simplest of God’s creations.
and
oversee Death was none other than the simplest of God’s creations.
The answer to God’s problem was:
humanity
.
humanity
.
my father was only thirty when he was tapped for the job of Death.
Up until then he’d been an idealistic young man, born into poverty, who had managed to pull himself so far out of the muck that he’d become one of the wealthiest land developers in all of North America. The most supernatural thing anyone could’ve said about him at the time was that he had an almost magical way of creating money out of nothing. Other than that, he was completely, utterly, totally normal—or at least that was what he thought.
There was no way for him to know that he’d
never
been normal, not even when he was an embryo swimming in his mother’s belly.
never
been normal, not even when he was an embryo swimming in his mother’s belly.
You see, in every generation three individuals are born who have the propensity to become Death. This person can live an entire human existence totally oblivious to the fact that they carry this “specialness” inside them, written into their very DNA. Nevertheless, it’s there, dogging them their whole lives, waiting for the one shining moment when they might be called upon to fulfill their supernatural destiny.
When you become Death, one of the perks of the job is that you and your family are granted immortality. So, as you can imagine, job longevity is pretty high, which means that only a few people ever get called up to vie for the job, period. Because the “old” Death has to abdicate his/her position of his/ her own free will before any of these “special” individuals get called in for a job interview, the chances of learning the truth about oneself get even slimmer. In fact, the majority of them
never
learn how “special” they truly are—but for those individuals who
are
shown the truth, it’s a pretty life-changing experience.
never
learn how “special” they truly are—but for those individuals who
are
shown the truth, it’s a pretty life-changing experience.
Most humans aren’t even aware that the Afterlife exists at all, let alone able to grasp its inner workings in one sitting, so you can imagine how unsettling the whole situation can become.
After they’ve terrified the crap out of the poor interviewees, the Board of Death gives the possible “new” Deaths three tasks to fulfill—there used to be thirteen, but there was so much bitching about the time it took to complete them (we’re talking
years
here) that the Board of Death finally eased up on the requirement. The tasks differ for each individual so that no one can cheat off anyone else—apparently, human beings can’t be trusted as far as you can throw them—and in the end, the person who completes his/her set of tasks first becomes the new head honcho in charge of Death.
years
here) that the Board of Death finally eased up on the requirement. The tasks differ for each individual so that no one can cheat off anyone else—apparently, human beings can’t be trusted as far as you can throw them—and in the end, the person who completes his/her set of tasks first becomes the new head honcho in charge of Death.
I myself (with the help of Jarvis, Runt, and my sister Clio) had experienced the tasks firsthand—and completed them—but that still didn’t mean I thought the Board of Death had the right idea about the whole thing. Of course, my dad had gone through this rigorous trial to secure his position as the head of Death, and he had ruled Purgatory for the past century or so with a mixture of fairness and firmness that garnered him the respect of all the denizens of the Afterlife, so there must’ve been some merit to the endeavor.
Speaking of my dad, it had actually been his idea to treat Death like a corporate entity. He’d spent his human life dealing in trade and commerce and figured that the same principles could be applied to the running of Purgatory and the collecting of souls. He had instigated the creation of Death, Inc., instilling his new charges with a sense of responsibility and a healthy respect for a job well-done. He had restructured the antiquated system so that instead of a hodge-podge of different groups grudgingly working together to secure souls after Death and guide them through the Afterlife, now everyone was part of one company, one community if you like, that worked together in harmony.
He had also completely renovated Purgatory itself. When he had inherited the place, it was nothing more than a giant fortress made of brimstone (because it’s indestructible) and held together by sheer will. There were no offices, no executive structure to the business—the sole governing body within Death was the Board of Death, but it was rarely called into session
except
to supervise the succession of the “old” Death to the “new” Death—and there was so much infighting that sometimes souls got lost in the shuffle.
except
to supervise the succession of the “old” Death to the “new” Death—and there was so much infighting that sometimes souls got lost in the shuffle.
My dad saw all this and decided that the time was ripe for a change. He created a new hierarchy within Purgatory, establishing a single Executive Board—with himself as President and CEO—that oversaw a much larger delegation of Vice Presidents and Managerial Executives. Each continent had its own Vice President, and below them, running each individual country, were the Managerial Executives. The Managerial Executives looked after the local Managers, who in turn liaised with the harvesters and transporters and basically made sure that the business of Death ran as smoothly as possible.
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