“No offense, but I'm surprised to hear you call Alan and Mark family,” Trevor said. “They weren't your sons, were they?”
“No, and none taken.” Lilith looked Trevor up and down. “Mark and Allen may not have been our sons, but they are the same breed as our children; that makes them family.”
Samael sighed and rolled his eyes.
“You don't feel the same?” I asked him.
Sam shrugged.
“Then why vow vengeance?” Re asked.
“Because it could have been my children who were killed,” Samael snapped. “And, although I may not consider them to be family, I do consider Alan and Mark to be members of my pantheon. They will be avenged, and the murderer will be stopped.”
“I'm glad we're on the same page,” Azrael said. “And since we are; I have some information to share with you.”
“Sit down, everyone,” Lilith said with a delicate wave of her hand. “Let's not be barbarians. Would anyone care for a cocktail?”
“No, thank you, Lilith,” I answered for us.
I introduced the men who hadn't met Samael and Lilith as we all took seats in the elegant living room. The pale marble floor was covered with thick, vibrant, Persian carpets, the walls were covered in tapestry wallpaper, and the tall windows were covered in silk drapes. There was a lot of fabric in the room, and that wasn't counting the assorted throw pillows and blankets cast across the couches. It was refined without being stuffy. I happily sank down beside Lilith on her chaise.
“All right; we're civil,” Samael said. “What did you discover?”
Azrael told Samael and Lilith about everything we'd learned; ending with the vial and the probability of a death deity being behind it all. Lilith's eyes were burning by the time Az finished, but Samael just sat as still as, well, death, and processed.
“There are very few death gods who are also harvesters,” Samael mused. “There are several psychopomps who escort souls—such as the Valkyries and Charon—but they don't physically remove the souls from their bodies. Most religions assume that the soul leaves its body on its own and is then either led or makes its own way to its afterlife. Azrael and I are two of the few harvesters I know of.”
“Da; ve know too,” Kirill said dryly.
Samael's eyes widened infinitesimally. “You suspected me.”
“You looked suspicious, but Azrael defended you,” I said. “And once he pointed out that your children were at risk, we took you off the suspect list.”
“Gee; thanks,” Sam said.
“As you said; there are few harvesters,” I pointed out. “In fact, I was mulling over that very issue when you answered the door.”
“You said you were two of the few. Can you think of any other harvesters?” Toby asked Sam. “Especially those like you, who have no need of a tool.”
Lilith laughed and said, “Well, there was Yama; he was a harvester, but you all killed him.”
“So, I guess he's off the hook.” I smirked at her.
“Indeed,” Samael said. “Although, I seem to recall Ganesh using Yama's lasso once or twice.”
“It's called the Pasha, Sam,” Lilith said. “And Ganesh used it to remove obstacles, not to harvest souls.”
“The Pasha?” Re asked. “So, Yama used a tool?”
“It's a cord,” Samael said. “I'm not sure how it worked, but my wife is correct; only a death god could use it to gather souls.”
“It was probably destroyed with him in the explosion,” I murmured.
Awhile back, Yama and a few other gods—including Hades' daughter Macaria—tried to raise the magical Hindu city of Dvaraka. They had led us on a merry chase with all sorts of drama; trying to distract us while they lifted the city out of its watery hidey-hole. But they failed. Krishna—the god who built Dvaraka—destroyed it; sacrificing himself to do it. We'd all witnessed the destruction because we had to join together to empower a ward around the city and contain the epic blast Krishna set off. It had been powerful enough to obliterate the entire city and kill all of the gods trapped within it. Yama had been one of them.
“There is a Lithuanian god who harvests souls; Dievas, I believe,” Samael murmured. Then he scowled. “Perhaps we're looking at this wrong. Whoever took the demon souls destroyed them. So, maybe it's not a harvester we should be pursuing but a soul-eater.”
“A soul-eater?” I whispered. “One springs to mind immediately, but I don't think she ever leaves Duat.”
“I doubt that it's Ammit,” Re said. “She doesn't have many independent thoughts, and her only motivation is to consume what's cast to her. She was a beautiful woman once, but now she's little more than an animal. It's a damn shame, really.”
“There are a couple of Japanese demi-gods,” Samael said with a frown of concentration. “A white woman—no; a snow woman. She feeds on human souls. And then there's a wheel with a man's head who guards Hell.”
“I think we can rule out the wheel,” Trevor said.
“You never know; wheels get around. That's kind of the point of them,” Lilith said and then snickered. “Or the lack of points.”
“There have also been human soul-eaters,” Samael said ominously; cutting off his wife's laughter.
We all stared at Samael in surprise. I had said in the beginning that this was either a god or a really powerful human. Why had we let ourselves get distracted by angels and left that stone unturned? Maybe because there was one problem with the human theory.
“How would a human consume a soul?” I asked.
“Magic,” Lilith said with a shrug. “Or extreme malice. Humans are capable of far more than we give them credit for. Willpower alone is sometimes enough to achieve results that would normally require a spell.”
“So, we have soul-harvesters and soul-eaters; possibly human ones,” Toby summed up. “And not a clue which
