Color of Angels' Souls (8 page)

He just wanted to get his hands on more loot.

Or maybe he had hired the hit man to get revenge on Jeremy. After all, Claire had decided to leave Frank once Jeremy had told her about his investigation of her husband's illegal activities.

In that case, the motive was love. He wanted to hang on to his wife.

Then again there could be a third reason, that was linked in some way to the murder of that other mysterious woman, Annabella Dafing, on the same night Jeremy was killed. But he still had no idea what that link could be.

And who was that Mongolian hit man anyway? And why had that psychopath used such a horrible—and above all,
spectacular—
method to kill him? It was almost as if his murder had been some kind of warning. Which led to another hypothesis. Maybe it was one of those enemies that Frank claimed he didn't have, who wanted to let him know he wasn't as untouchable as he thought he was?

Jeremy thought of that famous scene in
The Godfather
, when the guy finds a horse's head in his bed. Had Jeremy just been the horse in the story? A collateral victim in one of Frank's sordid affairs, and nothing more? Great.

All this thinking was starting to give him a headache, and not a clue about the real solution to the enigma. He would have to keep a close eye on Frank. But above all, he would have to find a way to get rid of the red Angel that was terrorizing his sis—Jeremy suddenly caught himself. He had been about to say “his sister,” even though she was only his half sister. “Whatever,” he sighed. She was his sister after all, wasn't she? He was unprepared for all the love that he suddenly felt for the little girl, now that he was dead. He had to protect her. And above all, he had to get ahold of himself, learn more about what had happened, understand what was going on. More than anything, he had to be strong, and that meant he needed more Mist. The need for it now became obvious to him.

He left the house.

Outside, the furious dance of the red and blue Angels continued, never-ending. When he walked past the guard dogs, he noticed that the German Shepherds perked up. The dogs couldn't see him but seemed to sense his presence in some strange way. Incredible! One of them even barked before it lay back down. Well, he had found an explanation for a phenomenon that had always intrigued him. Now he knew why dogs sometimes barked for no apparent reason. They could feel the Angels' presence!

Jeremy stopped in front of the animals. They began to tremble. He slowly bent over and tried to run his hand over their soft fur, but his hand passed right through. The dogs were slightly agitated, but nothing more. They couldn't feel his caress. Too bad.

He straightened back up, unsure what to do next. He hadn't eaten enough earlier, and now his stomach was growling. But he didn't want to go back into the mansion.

He decided to walk back to New York, but after about a half hour he had already had enough. The only times he'd walked over the past seven years had been to go to his office, which was right down the street from his apartment, and when he'd forced himself to go jogging a couple times a week to try to keep in reasonably good shape. But even walking at a quick pace, it would take him hours to get into the city, and running only made him even more tired. He was quickly fed up by the whole thing. He needed to find something to eat immediately! He looked around at the houses in the neighborhood. They were all luxurious mansions, just like Frank's. It was hard to make out the Angels flying above them in the dark night. Were they red, blue, or both? He walked up to one of the mansions and passed through the front gate. Through a large bay window, he could see a couple, staring lovingly at each other. Blue Angels were hovering above the roof, eating up the Mists. Well, if it was blue, that meant he could go ahead and dig in. Yum yum, supper was on!

He moved closer to the couple. He had no idea how to get his hands on the Mist rising through the roof, because he didn't know how to fly. At least, not yet. While he was reflecting on his predicament, he passed right through the front wall of the house as if it didn't even exist. Walking though walls could certainly come in handy!

In the living room, the two lovers gazed intently into each other's eyes as they sipped their glasses of champagne. She was a beautiful brunette, and looked stunning in her gray silk ensemble. The young, dark-haired man stared at her as if she were the eighth wonder of the world.

The blue vapors that rose from their heads looked awfully appetizing. Jeremy could hardly keep from drooling, and although he did his best to control himself, he was dying of hunger. But he was frightened as well. If he kept giving in to his need, would he eventually lose his head, lose himself in the wonderful Mists? He sighed and, despite himself, walked up to the couple.

That's when Jeremy realized there was a small problem. If he couldn't fly, how the heck was he supposed to get his hands on the damned Mist that was floating up above their heads? In the kitchen at Frank's house, the staff had been sitting down, but the man and woman were both standing. He looked around. It was a large living room, decorated in light gray and off-white colors, with two low, comfortable-looking sofas. There were also a few small tables. They were very pretty, but that wasn't what interested him. Not far from the couple was a chair made of dark mahogany.

That gave Jeremy an idea, and he decided to try his luck. He climbed up onto the chair and tried to lean over the couple. But now he had another problem: The chair was too far away from them, and of course he couldn't move it. Shit. He leaned over as far as he could, then a little bit further … until suddenly he fell head first off the chair and crashed to the floor. He grimaced painfully as he got to his feet. What an oaf! And even worse, he could actually feel the pain from his fall. It looked like that chair hadn't been such a good idea after all. How about the couch then?

He stood on his tiptoes on the couch and, doing his best to keep his balance, somehow managed to touch the Mist with his mouth. Once again, the taste was so wonderful that he almost had a seizure on the spot. He started gobbling up the Mist as fast as he could. After a few minutes, while Jeremy was lost in ecstasy, a blue head peeked out from the ceiling and gave him a curious look.

“Oh! Hey guys, it's a Newcomer, a Blue! That's why there's so much less!”

Jeremy stopped his feast and looked up at the ceiling.

A group of Blues were smiling down at him.

“Hey man, leave some for the rest of us!” one of them said. “You're going to make yourself sick if you get too close to the source! Only the Reds do stuff like that!”

Jeremy frowned: the source? What were they talking about? He was suddenly filled with shame when he realized that he had been treating the two lovers like a gravy train, and not like human beings at all. He suddenly felt queasy. A bit bloated.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn't realize I was disturbing you.”

“Well, if you eat the Mist then there won't be as much left for the rest of us. It's no big deal, but you should at least let us know. We thought there was something wrong with our two lovebirds. The Reds can be ferocious when they want to eat. They'll stop at nothing—even ruining a nice little couple like these two.”

Jeremy could sense the fear in the Angel's voice. Well, well, well. It looked like life after death wasn't as easy as you might think.

“I'm really sorry. The next time I'll be sure to give you a shout. Hey, speaking of the Reds. I'm trying to find a way to get rid of one. He's trying to scare to death a little girl, and maybe you can tell me h—”

“If he's a Red, that means he's violent.” The blue Angels suddenly looked nervous. “Angels can't kill each other—or at least, not easily anyway. But believe me, they can really rough you up. Whatever you do, don't cross his tracks. And if he attacks you, fly away as quickly as you can!”

“Gotcha!” Jeremy said, then mumbled to himself: “If I only knew how to fly.”

“The next time you stop by, just give a shout and we'll hear you,” said a pretty Blue with long blond hair. “I think we should be able to feed off these two for a long time—they just got married.”

The Angels smiled at Jeremy and started to disappear.

“Hey, wait!” Jeremy yelled. “Why shouldn't I get too close to the source?”

The blond girl's head reappeared.

“Because the emotions are really strong when they leave people's bodies, and are a bit more diluted when you find them higher up. They're easier to digest. You're probably feeling a little nauseous, aren't you?”

Jeremy realized that he did feel a bit queasy.

“Yeah, you're right,” he replied sheepishly. “OK, I'll try not to eat too close to the source. But what do I have to do to fly?”

“You just have to imagine that you're light,” she smiled. “Light as a feather. You'll see; you'll be flying before you know it—it's easy! See you later!”

This time she was gone for good.

Jeremy sighed and contemplated the blissful couple. He bowed in their direction.

“Thank you for feeding me,” he said, “and I hope you'll both be very, very happy together.”

He turned away, then added in a whisper: “That way, I'll always know where I can get a nice meal.”

He trudged back toward Frank's house, feeling lower than the ground.

He had a guy to haunt.

Jeremy didn't learn much by spying on his stepfather. He appeared to be working on a lot of different deals, but never talked about any murders or hit men. When Frank decided to go to bed, Jeremy decided to follow suit, as it was best to adapt his rhythm to that of the living. There certainly was one good thing about the house: Empty bedrooms were hardly in short supply. Over the next four days, he did his best to get his bearings in the strange new world.

Then the big day finally came:
his
funeral.

After listening to the mass and nearly dying again—this time of boredom (when he had so many things to do)—Jeremy followed his mother, stepfather, and Angela out of the church to their limousine. They made a gloomy little procession, cloaked in black and vapors of sadness.

Jeremy had already picked up a few new tricks since his awakening in the afterlife. If he concentrated hard enough, he could pass through any object or material. But they could also put up a great deal of resistance. If he managed to get into a car, it could carry him along just like any passenger—like when he had been on the bus. But why? Why was he still subject to the laws of gravity? Wasn't he just a pure spirit now? And another thing: Why did some of the Angels—both Blues and Reds—have magnificent wings, while others didn't but could still fly anyway? Why could he eat the Mist, and how had he managed to make objects out of it (not for very long though—his loincloth kept disappearing and it was driving him nuts)? He was determined to quickly find the answers to all these questions.

And even more importantly: to find some allies.

His experience in the financial world had taught him that you couldn't get much done on your own. Teamwork was the way to go. But over the past few days, he had gotten the impression that all the Angels did was fly around and stuff their faces. The only exception had been Flint, who had mentioned a poker party he was having with some friends. Even the Angels who followed around living people and talked in their ears spent most of their time hovering over the heads of their “suppliers.” Not many seemed to be very “grounded,” which made it difficult to strike up a conversation. On the other hand, Jeremy could understand their behavior. He could imagine how exhilarating it must be to fly.

To Jeremy's surprise, the horrible red Angel hadn't followed them to the cemetery. He would have thought the Red would be eager to gobble up all the family's sadness, as he had done at the church. But when he saw the hills of Greenwood cemetery, dotted with tombstones, he understood why.

The sky above the famous cemetery was literally swarming with Reds. Just the sight of them made Jeremy nauseous. Luckily, he didn't feel as sick as with the hideous red Angel back at the mansion. Instead of seeking vengeance, the Angels above the cemetery were only seeking food. He also saw some Blues who were accompanying living friends and family members. But most of the Angels were of mixed colors, somewhere between blue and red. For a moment, Jeremy thought he caught a glimpse of a familiar, chubby face. It was that woman … Teti something or other, but he couldn't be sure as he quickly lost sight of her when the massive wave of Angels suddenly began whirling about in a frenzy.

They hovered over the head of the priest like a pack of vultures, and then flew off toward Claire and Angela to suck up the most intense feelings of grief. Jeremy was surprised by the amount of people who had come to his funeral. Ah, he saw that all his business associates had made it. Judging from the color of their emotions, they were more furious than sad. “Sorry I had to die and screw up the business, fellas!” Jeremy sighed. What could he expect? But some of the employees did actually look upset. His secretary was sobbing into her handkerchief—much more than Claire, who looked as cold and imposing as marble.

But the Mist that rose from his mother betrayed her true emotions, and the red Angels were hungrily eating up her intense pain. Jeremy clenched his teeth angrily, doing his best to stifle a growing urge to start taking a few swings at the hordes of Angels crowded around the living.

Suddenly, a blue-red Angel came plummeting down from the sky like a missile and barreled straight into the Angels, scattering them with incredible violence. Those who bore the brunt of the attack howled with rage, but the new Angel was completely out of control, attacking everyone within his reach. The others eventually kept their distance. Jeremy nearly swooned with surprise when he got a closer look at the enraged Angel: He looked very familiar.