Lucifer's Assassin

Chapter 1

Jake, the arse, woke me up at half past two in the morning. I knew it was him because no one else I knew had a knock that sounded like a whine. It was pretty impressive actually since he worked for Lucifer himself. I took my own sweet time getting dressed and putting shoes on. I mean I'd only got to sleep an hour ago after dispatching my last commission to the afterlife once more.

Realising it was raining outside I smirked knowing how much the big, bad nephilim hated getting wet. I often wondered if he was crossbred with an ill cat rather than an angel. He whinged everywhere he went, his voice was too nasal for comfort and somehow he always looked like he'd just stepped out of a dirty pond even when he was bone dry.

He knocked again so I filled the kettle up wondering how long I could make him wait before he gave up or stormed his way in here.

I leaned on the unit listening to the rain batter the roof and windows. I began to wonder when I was going to go food shopping. I had plenty of baked beans, cans of tomato and basil soup and foam bananas (AKA Lucifer's gift to man which made my hips hate me), but not a lot else. Then I began to wonder how long I could survive on just those three food stuffs before I got bored to death and went to get real food.  

The kettle boiled and I made my tea.

Not that it wasn't like I didn't go shopping regularly. Living on a canal boat had its disadvantages – such as a tiny kitchen and even smaller cupboards – even if it was pretty much the only reason I was still alive because of the magic woven into it.

"Isobel if you do not open this door..." he threatened.

I began to drink my tea.

"Isobel I swear to God!"

I chuckled – the guy worked for the devil after all and no one on our side swore to God and lived without embarrassment – and walked over to the door.

"Isobel!" Jake snapped.

I pulled it open. "Oh, hi, Jake!" I fake gasped. "I can't hear a thing over this storm."

He made a face because he knew I was lying through my teeth and pushed his way in. I closed the door after him but didn't think there was much point keeping the door closed to keep the rain out given how much water he was dumping on the floor. He sat on the chair. The new chair. The one with a cover that was going to stain for all I knew.

"Really?" I asked. "That chair?"

"Precious to you?" he asked looking too amused for his own good.

"I'm not about to sit in the corner mumbling to myself over it," I dryly replied and sat on the stool. "What do you want now?"

He looked hopefully at my tea.

"This is my precious," I said and took a long, exaggerated sip. "Why are you here?"

He took a photo from his pocket and slapped it down on the crate I used as a coffee table. With my last twelve pay packets I'd brought a back of tricks and been taking wood work classes in my limited spare time so that I could repair the boat. There were still a few rotten timbers that I needed to sort, but the one comfortable chair had been something I couldn't resist. The rest of the boat – paint, comforts, a proper working kitchen was going to have to wait. "SAS Commander Iain McClain. He was last seen on airport grounds. If you still want a cushy hotel to go to, you'd better take it."

I didn't reply for a moment because this was crazy. I was eighteen and being asked to go against a member of the SAS. Sure the host soul was dead leaving only a revenant behind, but somehow the revenant managed to access all the information and memories the original soul had. Sure they couldn't communicate or act like a normal person, but they gained the skills the host soul had. In this case it was going to be kick ass fighting skills which I didn't have.