The Quarter Moon (Afterlife saga) Read online

  Of course, after being sat in the private lounge, where you could get a pre-flight dinner, a facial and champagne handed to you by your own private concierge all before take-off, was enough to keep my mouth hanging open before even stepping on board. But once there and being shown to my own little flight hub that was complete with a chair I would have been happy to die in, it was that comfortable, I finally had a minute to process the magical whirlwind that was first class.

  So here I was, sipping another glass of champagne, above the clouds watching the sun set on another day feeling guilty that I was enjoying the experience, while the man I loved was literally living in Hell. After that thought I gulped back the golden liquid, refused any more and ate my exquisite meal like it was acid infused cardboard feeling that guilty for every bite I took.

  I shouldn’t be here and I definitely should not being enjoying any part of this journey. I scolded myself repeatedly, trying to ease the ache I felt in my heart when thinking about Draven. I knew right then that the only reason I wasn’t drowning in my misery and despair at being without him was that with each mile consumed by this plane, I was a mile closer to bringing him back to me. Failure in this plan was not an option. I just wouldn’t let myself think it and this was backed up with the idea that if the Oracle herself thought this was worth a shot, then there was a shot!

  “Miss?” I shook myself out of my thoughts as a beautiful stewardess stood next to my little space.

  “Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” I said shrugging my shoulders as it was obvious she was waiting for an answer about something. She smiled sweetly down at me and motioned with her head at my half empty tray.

  “Would you like me to take that for you?” I nodded and moved slightly back as she reached across to get it and before she left me back to my mindful turmoil, she asked if there was anything else I needed. I was tempted to ask if she was a demon and could sneak me backstage in Hell, but refrained. After all, there was no need to freak out the people that provided the alcohol.

  “Just a rum and coke please,” I said doubting they did tequila shots! She smiled at me and turned with the tray in hand only to start scowling at the entrance to first class.

  “Oh wow, look at this place… Hey, are there any famous people in here?” I heard a lively voice ask and I arched my head round to see who was speaking.

  “Excuse me miss, you can’t be back here, this is first class.” The stewardess said in an authoritative tone which you could tell she used often.

  “No shit, its first class, I mean look at this…you guys get actual plates and stuff…and look at this…real glass…fancy.” The newcomer said waggling her eyebrows at me and I found I had to stifle a laugh. She was a big English woman with a cute face and massive brown eyes that sparkled as she took in the living myth that was the luxury of First Class. I couldn’t say I blamed her as I was exactly the same when I first saw it… minus the faded Mickey Mouse T-shirt, peach lipstick that was smeared and tight curly hair that was held back with a flowery scrunchy hair band.

  “I am sorry Miss, but you really can’t be here.” The flustered stewardess repeated.

  “Miss? Ah Hell, I ain’t been a Miss for over thirty years Lovey and I have had my share of hunks to prove that fact…” She said and then stepped closer making the poor stewardess wince before she continued with something that made me choke on a swallow.

  “…think, throwing a stick down an alley way, I swear I am lucky I don’t whistle as I walk!” She said nudging her and I couldn’t hold it back any longer, I burst out laughing, while the stewardess stepped back horrified and looked as though she would catch something if she got too close.

  “See, she found it funny, didn’t ya Lovey?” She said nodding to me and I winked back at her when the stewardess wasn’t looking, feeling like a naughty child laughing at the school joker.

  “You have to leave…NOW!” She said more firmly to the newcomer, but the bigger lady just smiled.

  “Alright, alright…don’t twist your ironed panty hose and untwist those knick knackers while you’re at it, I am here to give someone a letter…Keira Johnson…anyone of you fine folks called Keira whatsit face?” This sobered my humoured smile and I raised my hand before saying,

  “That would be me.” She smiled down at me and then said,

  “Of course it is, only one of you lot with any sense of humour for this old fart…alright, I’m a’leaving, just wanted to give the little cutie pie a letter is all.” She said while pulling it out of her ‘fanny pack’ as the Americans called it. She passed me the letter with a wink and then let herself be escorted out of First Class by another stewardess who soon got in on the authority act.

  “Peace out, Richies!” She shouted before the manhandling could start. Meanwhile, I just turned my head from the commotion in dumb silence as I looked down at the newest letter on my lap.

  “I am very sorry about that Miss.” My head snapped up at the stewardess who was apologising for completely the wrong thing. If anything, I was very close to getting up and hugging the cuddly Brit who had brought me what I could only class as a gift from the Heavens! It did bring forth the question of how the Hell did she even get her hands on it, which was why I found myself getting up from my seat and waving off any apology before asking where it was the lady was sat.

  “I…umm, did you know that lady?”

  “No, but I do want to know how she knew me.” I said to the confused looking stewardess as I gripped my letter tighter to my side.

  “She was… sat in Economy,” she said pausing and whispering the words like they were dirty. I smirked at her and gave her a comical wink for no good reason other than finding the situation funny. I left a stunned looking stewardess in a navy suit in my wake as I made my way back through the plane.

  I looked like a crazy person as I scanned each and every passenger I went past, looking for Mickey Mouse that had seen better and brighter days… pre a million spins in the washing machine. Of course I heard her before I saw her.

  “I tell ya, these seats don’t half pinch my denim fillers, my cheeks will have arm rest marks in them for a week!” I stifled a giggle at her comment and smiled when her cute round face came into view. She was shifting this way and that, trying to get comfortable and the man sat next to her looked disgusted with her blatant disregard for where her elbows jabbed at him. Again, I had to swallow my amusement.

  “Umm…excuse me,” I said clearing my throat getting her attention.

  “Well hello again. What are your little rich britches doing back here, slumming it?” She asked without malice. I smiled at her before answering,

  “I am actually a waitress and had this flight paid for me.” I shrugged my shoulders when she gave me a surprised look.

  “Well, I hope you’re gonna marry him, anyone that doesn’t want to put your shiny butt through this torture for eight hours is a keeper!” She said squirming.

  “Here, please sit down, it is a comfy seat for some… but I need a drink and to… escape.” The man next to her said standing, whispering the last part as he passed me.

  “Thanks,” I said but this was over spoken by my new friend.

  “I heard that!” She shouted at him and I cringed at the scowls she received from other passengers.

  “I don’t know how anyone can be comfy with a parker pen shoved so far up their ass they must blow ink when they sneeze…do you?” I burst out laughing and failed trying to hide it.

  “So, what can I do ya for skinny Minnie, what’s her face?” She asked cracking open her tiny Coke can before taking a large swig.

  “I just wanted to know who gave you this letter.” I asked holding it up to her, which wasn’t needed but done out of impulse. This, however, created a response that I wasn’t expecting.

  “Holy shit!” I said leaning back away from her when I saw her eyes start to glow. The toothy grin she gave me was sheer mischief and then she nodded which was contradicting my shaking head.

  “You’re…you’re a…
bloody demon?” I whispered the last part, looking round to make sure no one could hear my crazy statement.

  “Of course, who else would you trust with something like that?!” She said minus the ‘Well Durr’.

  “Of course, it still doesn’t help with me ending up with piles after a long flight.” She winked at me as I snorted a laugh.

  “Who are you?” I asked feeling my eyebrows lower as the distrust seeped in.

  “Merry Weather Jones at your service.” She said wiping a plump hand down her jeans leg a few times before offering it to me.

  “Merry Weather?” I couldn’t help but ask as I took her hot and sticky hand that dwarfed my own.

  “Yeah, the bitch that was my possession officer had a twisted sense of humour alright, plus she just loved the fat fairy from Sleeping Beauty and those, my dear skinny friend, are the reasons you will never get my awesome big booty in a blue dress…man what a bitch!” She said again before swigging the rest of her Coke back.

  “So where were we?”

  “You were about to tell me who gave you this letter?”

  “Ah, well now I would gladly want to ruin the surprise being it’s in my nature and all, but I am afraid I don’t know.” She said offering me a peach coloured smile.

  “I doubt that…I mean how can you not know?” I said raising a sceptical eyebrow, one she ignored. She simply raised her empty Coke can at a passing stewardess and shook it until the poor girl got the hint.

  “Easy, it’s above my pay grade and definitely my ranking, but I will tell ya one thing, the pay was worth every hour my ass is going to be numb for! So thank you for that part.” She said lifting her empty coke my way and this time showing a bit of fang with her coy grin.

  “So you can’t tell me anything?” I said feeling deflated and pulling my letter closer to my chest as my own comfort.

  “Only this…whoever gave me that letter put some bad ass voodoo on it as the only soul that can open it is you, and trust me when I say that shit right there is the real thing…power like that…well it makes my Merry Weather ass look like bird shit hitching a lift off a Ferrari! And I aint ‘bout to claim myself as being that Ferrari if you catch my wheels ‘a drifting!” I nodded even though her unique code had me suppressing the need to scrunch up my face and tell her she was crazy.

  So instead of pointing out the obvious screw loose she had going on, I got up and nodded my thanks before letting the stewardess through with another shot of caffeine…that, if you asked me, was the last thing that Demon needed.

  I made my way back to First Class even more confused than before and instead of tearing into the letter as I usually wanted to do, something about this one now felt different. Of course when I was back in my private pod chair, feeling like a Bond villain, I found out just how warranted my feelings were.

  You think this is a wise decision, to trust in the fates when they abandoned you?

  You think you are capable of playing with the Gods and bring forth the Dead?

  You think that by travelling this path will lead you to righteous arms in Hell?

  You think wrong human!

  Now it is time for what I think,

  I think that the death of a King will not bring you peace but the death of a girl will bring peace to a King.

  I think that the Dead will rise and with him revenge, redemption and retaliation will be found in your End.

  I think the time is coming for those who have been chosen by the Gods and the mistakes found in those souls.

  I think it is time for you to

  Die right along with your King!

  By the time I finished reading it for the third time my face ached from frowning and I had to uncurl my fingers from fisting the parchment that hard. Who the Hell had written this?! And how dare they try and stop me from doing what needed to be done! I slammed the paper words face down on the little table in front of me, making a few of the other VIP’s around me jump from my outburst.

  My anger bubbled and coiled round me like something waiting to find the right victim to strike! I curled my top lip in disgust at the words of obvious hate on my part. So, someone out there knew what I was doing and was trying to use me, this ‘Mistake of the Gods’, to flee running scared with my tail between my legs. Well at least one thing was clear…they obviously didn’t know me!

  After giving the offending sheet my best death ray stare for about an hour I finally folded it back up, still tasting the acid of anger inside, as I shoved it back into the plain envelope.

  After that the rest of the flight was a blur as my mind crashed along the shore of doubt with a stormy vengeance. I hated that I was letting the words get to me in any way, but it was so hard not to. What did they know? Who were they and what if they spoke even a tiny element of the truth? Had the Gods made a mistake in picking me or now without Draven here what did that mean…was my Heavenly contract being the Electus now void?

  My mind continued like this for the remainder of the flight and even when I was handed my jacket, I was still asking myself questions and using my zombie responses when thanking the stewardess. I hated what the letter had done to my courage and confidence in my plan and I found myself now stood in the bathroom at Gatwick airport staring myself down. Palms flat on the counter, I hung my head as my doubtful eyes finally got to me.

  I couldn’t do this now! Hell, I couldn’t do this ever! This was not going to get me anywhere and besides, why should I be listening to the words of someone who obviously wanted me dead! For Christ’s sake, it could have come from Layla for all I knew, someone who was still high on the wanted list and had gone into hiding her hellish bimbo self to get out of the death sentence that clearly awaited her.

  With my mind made up, I slammed my hands down on the counter shouting,

  “Fuck it!” Scaring an old lady in the process, who walked out muttering about young ones today and having no respect.

  “Sorry!” I shouted back, getting a slammed door as my answer. I looked back at my reflection to see the dark doubt leave my eyes, only to be replaced with a fierce determination that looked so much better on my grey blue eyes.

  “I can do this…I can do this!” I said, the last time with more of a bite to my bark. I stormed from the bathroom as though I could hear my very own bad ass theme song pounding a heavy base line through my veins. My Doc Martins sounded out my purpose with every step as I made my way out of the arrivals gate and I almost missed the guy stood there with my name typed out on an ipad he was holding. So much for the cardboard days I thought as I stopped in front of him.

  “Keira Williams?” He asked and at hearing my real name being voiced I didn’t know whether this was a good sign or a bad one. In the end I just nodded and followed him when he told me he had a car waiting. He waited by the open door of a black Mercedes for me to catch up. He looked like any other chauffeur, dressed in a black suit and hat worn low to his eyebrows. Black sunglasses that reminded me of Blade wrapped round his eyes and hid most of his features from my studying.

  “Where to?” He asked abruptly as I approached.

  “The Savoy Hotel please.” I said and with a nod, he closed the door after me and didn’t say much all the way there. I tried to ask him a few times during the drive, who sent him but I never really got an answer. I did however hear briefly about ‘Where the boss wants him, he goes’ oh and ‘Bloody London Traffic’ was another he thought to tell me.

  So now here I was, pulling up to one of the most lavish hotels I was to stay in, knowing two things for certain. One was a bubble over my head as to how much one night was going to set me back and dip into my savings and two…how on earth was I going to be able to sneak into the Royal Suite?!

  The Savoy was situated further back from the main street and as we drove down the hotel’s driveway, we passed two huge fern cats on either side. The outside had an art deco feel with its black cut marble lines along its multiple pillars. Its driveway circled a Mackintosh style glass water feature and its covered roof was lit up
in square panels giving the posh exterior a warm orange glow. The front entrance was framed either side with two tall palm trees, which would have looked odd in England but for some reason it fit the theme nicely.

  A Bellboy was stood there ready to open my door and another was loading luggage from a fancy metal lift. Then my door was opened and I looked up to see a cheeky smiley face welcome me. He was wearing a black top hat, a long black jacket that had a thick gold trim and two rows of high shine buttons.

  “Welcome to the Savoy, Miss.” He said standing back so I could exit the vehicle. The driver was already pulling my bag from the boot and handing it to the Bellboy. Instantly, without Draven by my side, it was moments like this that I felt completely out of my depth as though any minute someone would be walking up to me and asking me to leave.

  I knew it was my insecurities that were making me feel this way, as the staff were nothing short of pleasant and polite. But this, I was to find, was kicked up a notch when I was shown to the reception area. After walking through one of the sets of revolving doors, I stepped back in time into a treasure trove of antique furniture, grand oil paintings and solid wood panelled walls. The ceilings were a master piece in their own right. Cut into sections of squares from the free standing pillars that were topped with gold gilded leaves that arched out. The theme continued onto a wide border that spanned the top of the room, displaying beautiful mouldings of white figures against a light mint colour.

  I gulped down an anxious lump as I walked over to the desk.

  “Welcome to the Savoy Miss, may I help you?” A smartly dressed gentleman asked and I first had to clear my throat before I answered him. I mean, what was I going to say, ‘I probably can’t afford to stay here without my boyfriend, (who’s stuck in Hell by the way) but I was just wondering if I could take a peek at your Royal Suite’. No, I didn’t think that was going to fly with the posh folk now looking at me.