Monsters and Invisible Men (Lost Souls Book 1) Page 8

  Ivan shrugged. “I don’t sleep. Not really in the habit of it.”

  Ciara nodded. She bounced into the kitchen and Ivan heard running water. When she returned, she held a glistening bottle with a pink cap. “Now that you’re up, I have news from Hannah”

  Ivan stood up and paced. Realising he was doing it he stopped and dropped onto the sofa again. Ciara grinned and shook her head.

  “Don’t leave me in suspense, mate.” Ivan kept standing halfway before returning to the seat.

  “I spoke to her briefly last night and she said she would meet with you for a drink tonight.” The words had no sooner left Ciara’s lips than Ivan was on his feet again. He hopped up and down.

  “I hope she is ready for something fantastic. I am death after all. A date isn’t beyond me.” Each statement ran into the next.

  Ciara did her best to get his attention. She tried to stand in his line of vision, but he moved too much. Then she tried to speak to him, but his own voice drowned her out.

  “Ivan.” She raised her voice.

  “Yea what is it? I’m not going running with you if that’s what you want. I don’t do the running thing in fact I have just started doing the walking thing.” His pupils were huge.

  “No that’s not it.” Ciara addressed her statements to the floor. “It’s just, as much as Hannah is my friend, and she is, of course, don’t get too invested in this.”

  Ivan sighed. “What do you mean? She said yes there’s nothing more to it. Unless you think I am unbearable or annoying. Am I?”

  Ciara watched him for a full second. “No. You’re not,” She blushed. “you’re great.”

  “You bet I am.” Ivan wandered out of the room.

  “Where are you going?” she called after him.

  “To tell Zerachiel I am a womaniser, not that he cares about getting women but who else would I tell, right?” Excitement altered the pitch of his voice and he skipped down each of the steps out of the apartment building. He almost fell on the last one but thought he walked it off very well.

  Ivan found his friend sitting on a wall outside. He was staring at the clouds like they meant the world to him. They were streaks of fluffy colour with blurred beginnings and endings. He was slumped slightly forward and breathed deeply. His hair was golden in the light and Ivan suddenly saw him as he would look if he was in one of those hair ads.

  “You could be on Tv,” Ivan said when he reached Zerachiel.

  The angel turned his face slowly towards Ivan. “Pardon?”

  Ivan wasn’t about to explain. He waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing. I saw a someone die while filming this hair thing and this girl there she said… never mind.” He spread out his arms and gestured to himself. “Guess what I did.”

  Zerachiel exhaled heavily. “I don’t know, ended the world in your sleep?”

  “Ha ha mate. Let’s not forget who lit the match on that dynamite stick. No, I got a date.” His gesturing became more vigorous.

  “Stop flapping your hands like that.” Zerachiel slid from the wall. His feet clunked on the concrete. “It’s great that you got a date, but you can’t go.”

  Sweat broke out on Ivan’s forehead. “What? Of course I can go. Don’t shut down the car before you have even started driving.”

  Zerachiel narrowed his eyes and tilted his head.

  “Yea I don’t know what that was supposed to mean either,” Ivan admitted, “but I’ve got to go.”

  Zerachiel moved to pass him and Ivan blocked his path.

  “Look,” The angel clasped his hands together. “Have you forgotten about the souls from hell that we need to catch?”

  Ivan chewed on his lip. “No but come on mate. I have waited so long to… well you know I’ve told you before. And now the chance is just millimetres away and you want me to walk away.” He held his fingers slightly apart to emphasise the point.

  Zerachiel smirked. “What do you want me to do? Spirit you to another world where we didn’t upset the balance of the universe?”

  “No mate.” Ivan shuffled closer and maintained eye contact. He wanted to make sure that Zerachiel felt how much this meant to him with every word he said. “Let me have one night. Just one.” He spun around and wandered in a square. He started to get dizzy, but he was too restless to stop.

  “Come on,” Ivan said, “you are my best mate. Just give me this one thing and I will be the most dedicated bounty hunter you, or someone a bit more worldly than you, have ever seen.”

  Zerachiel’s lips thinned into a smile and he shook his head in defeat. “Fine. One night and then we do our job and go home.”

  “Yes.” Ivan ran to Zerachiel and grasped one of his hands, going in for a hug. Zerachiel was rigid as Ivan embraced him and he stiffly clapped the reaper on the shoulder. When they broke apart Ivan smiled broadly.

  “Your idea of home is weird by the way,” Ivan said.

  Ivan was about to go back inside when a buzzing sound started emitting from Zerachiel’s pocket. Ivan was concerned that he might be about to explode until he lifted out a phone.

  “Since when do angels carry phones?” Ivan asked.

  “Since I have someone to call.” Zerachiel clicked to answer the call and a young man’s face came up on the screen. He had red hair, green eyes and an inviting smile. The room behind him was bright and the walls were a neutral cream. Ivan knew that Zerachiel only knew one person who would call him. This must be his crush.

  “He is cute, nice job.” Ivan elbowed Zerachiel.

  “Hey Christopher,” Zerachiel said, dismissing Ivan with a sharp look.

  The guy on the video call, Christopher, beamed brightly at Zerachiel. “Hey, I hope this is a good time to call.”

  Zerachiel smiled sheepishly. “Of course, it’s a good time.” He dropped his gaze. “But I am not done work yet, so I won’t be back for a while.”

  Ivan narrowed his eyes at Zerachiel. He had never seen his friend like this. Why on earth was his face flushed?

  “I know. It’s okay, I have to work too, but I had an idea.” He panned the video away from his own face and towards a table that was solid wood and covered in a tablecloth. A glass of wine was sitting on the table with a single unlit candle in front of it. “Since we had to suddenly cancel our wine night I was thinking that we could have it over video chat. You get a glass of your own and we can light candles and make it as nice as we can while we are apart.”

  “You are essentially drinking alone then,” Ivan remarked.

  Christopher’s smile faltered so Zerachiel shoved Ivan out of view of the camera.

  “That sounds amazing. I have some things to do but how about around eight?” Zerachiel pressed his lips together.

  Ivan was sure Zerachiel had picked that time because he knew that Ivan would be out at his date.

  “Perfect. I mean I look forward to it.” Christopher laughed. “In that case we can both get our work done before then.”

  Zerachiel looked down and his shoulders hiked up. “I will do my best.” Zerachiel’s voice had become sombre. “Anyway, I have to go. See you tonight.”

  “Are you okay?” Christopher asked.

  “Fine. I just have a lot to do before tonight.”

  “Okay. Tell your friend I said bye.”

  “I will. Goodbye.”

  When the call ended Zerachiel and Ivan stood in silence. Ivan didn’t know what had happened. One-minute Zerachiel was all smiles and giggles and the next he looked like someone had told him his puppy had died. Ivan was about to ask him about it when Zerachiel finally put his phone away and cleared his throat.

  “Let’s get inside. You need to get ready for tonight.”

  Ivan thought about pushing the issue but something in how his friend turned his back and started for the door said that he didn’t want to talk about it.

  The hours leading up to the date hour were long for Ivan. After spending a few of them pacing the apartment Ivan decided that he should start getting ready early, so there was no chance
of him being late. Ciara let him have her room to get ready in.

  Ciara’s room wasn’t much. There was a double bed and the walls were painted a washed-out peach colour. The bed was snuggled under piles of blankets and Ciara sat on this mound with her legs folded under her. Ivan turned this way and that while he watched himself in the floor-length mirror on the wardrobe door. Next to this ratty wardrobe was a dressing table in a similar state of decay. The whole room seemed rustic and gradually dying, like the splendour fading from a blooming flower. A corner of the bedside table was chipped and faded. There was a poster on the wall of some band Ivan didn’t know that had one corner torn off.

  Ivan soon realised that he didn’t have any clothes to try on and had no idea how to do his hair.

  Ivan combed his hair to the left. It covered the top of his eye. “Not the look for me is it?”

  Zerachiel chuckled from the space in the ajar door. “No, I don’t think so.”

  Ciara laughed pressing the back of her hand to her mouth to try and dampen the sound. “Not unless you’re going for the cyclops look.”

  Ivan combed it the other way. There were similar results. “Okay so all this thing does is make me look stupid.” He frisbeed the purple comb onto the bed. “What now?”

  Ciara jumped up and ran to his side. “Here let me help.” She ruffled his hair with her fingers, giggling the entire time. Ivan enjoyed the relaxing sensation.

  Ivan looked into the glass again. “Now I look insane.” His hair stood on end like rows of skyscrapers.

  “Then she will know what she’s getting,” Zerachiel said.

  “Hey better insane that dull as a doorknob.” Ivan moved a few hairs about. They did what they wanted and eventually he decided to leave them to their own devices. The cosy lamp light stained everything a warm pink. In the hazy light Ivan looked into his own eyes. This is it, he thought to himself, I am finally going to get the girl and live through something.

  Bubbles of excitement raced around Ivan’s belly.

  Smiling he turned to the dressing table. “Right now, for some of this stuff”. He removed a bottle of perfume. It had a long black neck and a silver ribbon tied at the top.

  “Hey, wait.” Ciara snatched it from him.

  Ivan scrunched up his face. “What? You can’t steal a man’s fragrance before he has doused himself.”

  “This is women’s perfume.” Ciara ran her finger along the bumpy letter that read “Christina Agularia”. “That’s why a female celebritys name is on it.”

  Ivan examined it, squinting at the bottle and moving his head about as if he was evaluating a relic in a museum.

  Taking it back, he squirted a splash on his neck. There was a pleasant moment of coolness where the perfume hit his skin.

  “What’s the difference anyway.” He started rolling his shoulders while making eye contact with himself in the mirror.

  “You okay?” Zerachiel asked while watching this weird display.

  Ivan stopped moving. Then he posed facing the mirror. Tilting his head to view his profile and flashing teeth as white as Zerachiel’s wings. “Have you seen me, mate? I’m gorgeous.”

  Ivan tried hard to hide the tremor in his voice. He had never felt this way before. He was sure that he was shaking, if only a little and his hands were sweaty enough that he was hoping Hannah wouldn’t want to hold one. He took a secret steading breath. He wasn’t going to let his own body take this experience from him. Ivan turned from the mirror and Zerachiel caught his eye, giving him a wide and knowing smile.

  “What time is it?” Ivan scanned the room for a clock.

  “Not eight yet.” Ciara smiled.

  “How long?”

  “Ten minutes.”

  Ivan put his hands in his pockets, then took them out to drum on his thighs, then combed them through his hair. He sat on the bed and tapped his foot. Ciara’s phone jingled, and he bounced from the bed like a cat who just got the fright of its life.

  “Relax.” She read the message. “It’s just my mum.”

  Ivan sat again. “That’s fine then.”

  Ciara snickered. “No just kidding, its Hannah.”

  Ivan sprang up. “Okay. Right. I look good.” He asked the mirror for confirmation and was satisfied.

  “I smell good.” He walked to Zerachiel in one second flat. “Smell me.”

  Zerachiel, seeming to know it was futile to argue, gave him a sniff. “You smell great.”

  Ivan nodded so fast he got dizzy. “Right I have reaped girls this pretty before so dating one will be a piece of cake.” Ivan didn’t know what the logic behind this idea was, but he wanted to give himself some kind of confidence boost.

  “What did she say?” He asked Ciara.

  “She will meet up with you at the bar down the street, Finegan’s in five minutes.” Ciara’s voice was sympathetic.

  Ivan paid no attention to it. “Cool. I can walk there.”

  “Ivan.” Zerachiel moved from the door so that the stampede path was clear. “You need to leave if you are going to get there in time.”

  Ivan ran. His legs slid about like a cartoon. His funny bone clanked the doorframe on the way out and he swore. “Stupid funny bone. It’s not a joke. Whatever asshole called it a funny bone had a messed-up sense of humour.”

  Once out onto the street Ivan cursed god when he saw the rain. It wasn’t cold, just soggy. He was going to pull his jacket over his head and reached back to grasp it. “No, actually that’ll ruin my hair.”

  He walked in the rain without a hood or an umbrella. He didn’t notice anything along the way. All he could manage was to keep on the footpath and avoid death by car while he was in his daze. Vaguely, he registered the patter of the rain and the smell of burgers coming from a restaurant. He was watching out for the bar and Hannah, nothing else.

  He walked past the bar and had to backtrack to be in front of its red door. The building was designed on the outside to look like a tavern from a fantasy game and it had beams reaching up to a part of the roof that extended over the front wall. The windows had wooden shutters that stuck out like a door on either side of the frame. Ivan liked the look of the place and perhaps would have admired it more if he had thought he had the time. Or the will power.

  The door was heavy. It groaned and so did Ivan when everyone inside stopped their conversations to watch him struggling to open it. The room he had come into was small with a lot of brown in it. The pair of booths in the back corners were brown with green specks. The pool table in the middle of the floor was wooden and varnished. The floor was wooden, and the walls were green with a brown trim. The bar itself was the only thing which was different. There were Celtic symbols carved into the light-coloured wood and the stools cushions were wine red.

  Ivan smiled sheepishly and looked for Hannah. She wasn’t there yet so he made his way to a comfy looking stool and sat at the bar. He felt like shrinking but inside his head his own voice urged him not to falter under the weight of their eyes. He was death. No one could intimidate death. Holding his head high he called the bar man. A huge bald man who grinned from ear to ear approached. When he reached Ivan, he took a towel off his shoulder and started to wipe the bar with it.

  “Hey ya,” he said, “what can I get ya?”

  Ivan opened his mouth and surveyed the taps before him. All of them glistened with the appeal of refreshment. Then he remembered the money thing. “I will be fine,” he said, “don’t really drink.”

  The bar man looked around Ivan. “Then why did ya come to a bar all on your own?”

  Ivan narrowed his eyes and leaned back in the seat. “What are you mate? The bar trip police?”

  The mans face turned guarded and he walked away to serve an old man with a flat cap on at the other end of the bar. Ivan rubbed his arm absentmindedly and looked around. The door opened, and he jumped. In walked Hannah. She had put on a red leather skirt and her legs were warmly tanned. Her top had many layers of thin black fabric and she had coupled it with a golden gem
necklace on a silver chain. Her hair was in some kind of complicated twist which Ivan couldn’t see the end or the beginning of. She smiled with pink lips and harshly defined eyes.

  “Hi Ivan?” She sauntered over to him and sat beside him.

  “Yep that’s me.” Ivan swiveled towards the bar again. The barman returned, speaking to Hannah and paying Ivan no attention. Once she had a drink, Hannah spun to face Ivan and crossed one leg over the other. It was difficult to tear his eyes away from those legs.

  When he did, he noticed that Hannah was examining her nails. The silence was long, and Ivan shuffled endlessly. Hannah took out her phone and took a selfie. Ivan was puzzled by the way she pushed her lips out and tilted her head. It wasn’t a great look for anyone.

  “What’s that?” Ivan nodded to her expression.

  “My face.” She scowled. Ivan suddenly missed the pout.

  “No, I meant the pout. Why not just smile.” To make his point he grinned.

  Hannah laughed. “Aww bless.”

  Ivan resisted the urge to ask what that odd phrase and tone meant.

  “You don’t take selfies often do you? I always take them when I am done up to go out.”

  “I’m less fond of my own face than other people it seems,” Ivan mumbled and looked away. This wasn’t the best start, but he was going to turn it around. “Mind you, your face is enough to be obsessed with.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”

  “No really you should take pictures when you aren’t all done up as well,” Ivan said.

  “God no. I look a right show then.”

  Ivan wasn’t sure how she could think this, but he wasn’t going to argue with her.

  Ivan decided it was time to bring out the big guns. Time for the death jokes. He had seen enough humans to know that girls like men who make them laugh.

  “Hey,” He tapped her shoulder. She gave him a guarded look when he touched her. “Did you know that it is possible to die when doing a hair ad?”

  Hannah smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “No. That’s so cool. Could you just give me a sec? I need to take a trip to the ladies, but I am really looking forward to this story.” She rose faster than he could answer and was gone to the bathroom.