Page 47 of Mortis

“Get up.”

Kael stared at me for a long moment before slowly taking it. Once he was standing, I guided him back to Mr Cartwright’s head. The soul still glowed beneath the man’s lips.

“We’ve already solved your human flesh problem.” I nodded towards the brilliant light. “Now we’ll solve this one.”

Kael looked between me and the soul, disbelief written plainly across his face. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, apparently deciding that arguing with me was pointless.

I gestured towards Mr Cartwright.

“Bon appétit.”

Then I watched in silence as Kael gently consumed the glowing soul.

As he did, I whispered an apology.

To Mr Cartwright and his family.

To the life Kael felt forced to steal.

The light dissolved into shadow before disappearing completely, apparently having been sent to Mammon. Then I turned back to my work, preparing the body like nothing was amiss. And somewhere between closing incisions and cleaning my instruments, I realised something.

If Kael was destined for Hell, there was a very good chance I was heading there with him.

7

KAEL

Fourteen days.

That was how long I’d lived in the mortal world without taking a life. Two weeks surrounded by the temptation of flesh, and yet I hadn’t once felt the need to indulge.

The Beast had been quiet too.

It was . . . strange.

I had grown accustomed to feeling His presence stirring whenever the hunger returned. The tightening grip of His incorporeal hand around my mind as He dragged my consciousness aside and stepped into the light.

But none of that had come.

Instead, He remained curled in the furthest corner of my thoughts, content to wait for our next meal. Meals prepared by Teddy. The kind human who had taken me into his home and compared me to a stray animal.

Every few days, he carefully removed portions of flesh from those entrusted to his care and brought them to his home for me to eat. But he never presented them raw. No, he cooked a variety of meals based on recipes he found on something called the internet.

After he removed the flesh for my sake, I returned the favour by helping him prepare their bodies. Preparing them for their final journey. I never truly understood the phrase. Being lowered into the earth or committed to flames didn’t seem like an enjoyable journey to me.

Embalming, Teddy had called it. Not that I was entrusted with the actual process. Teddy insisted I wasn’t qualified, and I was still uncertain what qualifications were required to preserve the dead. No, I carried the bodies wherever he needed so Teddy didn’t have to strain his tiny frame.

I often wondered how he’d managed before I had so rudely barged into his life.

If carrying the dead was all I could offer him, then I would do it gladly.

I had also learned the names of his instruments. Of course, I had initially mistaken them for implements of torture, and while Teddy assured me they weren’t, I remained unconvinced. He gradually taught me what each one was for, and in what order he needed them. I still made mistakes when he asked for one, but far fewer than before.

Whenever I handed him the correct instrument, however, he smiled.

That smile made me irrationally pleased with myself.

And after each body was prepared, Teddy allowed me to consume their soul and send it to Mammon.