by Eric Vall
“Contrary to popular belief, no.” I wiped a tear away from my face and recomposed myself. “There’s a whole process involving the different branches of the government voting, and then it goes to the President and then it may or may not get sent back to Congress depending on what he says. It’s a long, convoluted process. Sometimes it takes months for bills to become laws.”
“That sounds more nightmarish than Hell,” Cupi mused. “How does anything get done?”
“Not very well.” Todd chuckled.
“Uh-oh, Todd’s about to get on his political soapbox,” I warned the girls. “This might get a little weird.”
The imp began his rant about the government and politics somewhere in mid-state Missouri and didn’t stop until we got to Virginia. Todd would take a break every now and again whenever we’d stop for food or gas, but then he’d start right back up the second we were on the road.
“… and that’s how Millard Fillmore planted the seeds for faking the moon landing, over a hundred years before it actually happened,” Todd finished. “It just goes to show you once again that you can never trust a politician.”
“New rule,” I pronounced when the imp finally stopped rambling. “Todd has to wear a tin foil hat at all times until we’re done with this trip.”
“You laugh now, bro,” the imp giggled, “but just wait and see.”
“We have to be getting there soon, right?” Sia asked patiently. “We’ve been driving for over fifteen hours.”
The redhead was right. We had left my parent’s house in Kansas City at around seven this morning, and the clock on the dashboard currently read midnight.
“According to our GPS, we’re about forty-five minutes away,” I said as I glanced at the built-in screen on the dashboard. “And not a moment too soon. I seriously don’t know how much longer I’m gonna make it.”
Even though we had done nothing but drive for the entire day, I was fucking exhausted. My eyes felt like they were drooping down to my knees, and I started to rub them groggily to keep myself awake.
“Ooh, I know!” Todd exclaimed. “I can keep you awake by telling you about the new conspiracy theory I discovered!”
“No!” The entire cabin of the vehicle said in unison.
The imp hung his head in defeat. “Well, fine,” he moped. “It was about aliens and fairies and all that shit. It’s totally true, bro.”
“Maybe later, Todd,” I reassured my friend with a pat on the head and then reached down to the radio. “Right now, I want to jam out with some tunes.”
“I hear ya.” The imp grinned. “I’ve got the perfect CD for this occasion.”
The imp popped open the glove compartment in front of him and began to rummage around inside. He finally emerged holding two generic-looking CDs held high above his head.
“Mixtape CDs, bro!” he exclaimed.
“You finally upgraded?” I couldn’t help but laugh as I remembered Lola’s cassette player and how much it had meant to Todd.
“Yup!” He laughed as he pushed the disc into the slot on the dash. “The Toddster’s finally living in modern society.”
“More like early two-thousands, but it’s a step up from where you were,” I joked.
The dashboard made a whirring sound as it read the CD. The display lit up with a large, digital “number one,” and then the sounds softened. A generic news-like jingle erupted from the speakers of the Jeep.
“Good morning folks, and welcome to Tuesdays with the Toddster.” The voice coming out of the speakers was distinctly the imp’s. “Today I’ve got something on my mind. Something… magical. The Jinn. What are they, and why are they a threat to you?”
Todd fumbled at the eject button for a moment and then ripped the CD out of the slot.
“Wrong one.” He chuckled awkwardly and slid the other disc into the player.
“You’re not going to get away without an explanation, bro,” I implored the little red imp.
“It’s… It’s a podcast I’m trying out.” Todd sighed. “Anyone with a decent recording system can make those nowadays. You just upload it to the internet and boom, suddenly you have a massive following.”
“How long have you been doing this?” I asked cautiously. “You’re not talking about all our adventures, are you?”
“Of course not!” He scoffed. “I wouldn’t do you dirty like that, bro. It’s more of a generic paranormal show, making people aware of the different cryptids and government cover-ups and shit like that. I’ve only uploaded a few episodes, anyway.”
“Fair enough.” I shrugged.
“You’re not mad?” the imp asked.
“Why would I be mad?” I chuckled. “As long as you’re not giving away our identities or revealing millennia-old Earth-shattering secrets, I couldn't care less what you do in your spare time.”
“Yes!” the imp hopped up and down happily. “More Tuesdays with the Toddster, coming up!”
“Do you actually have an audience?” Libidine asked curiously.
“You gotta remember who we’re dealing with here.” The imp wagged his finger. “There aren’t many people who buy into this kinda mumbo-jumbo, but those that do are insanely loyal. I’ve only got, like, a hundred so far, but I’m getting fan mail all the time! One woman even sent me a picture of her--”
“Where are they sending the mail?” Cupiditas piped up. “Are you giving out our address?”
“Relax, Cupid.” Todd giggled. “There’s this magical thing called the internet. All the Tuesdays with the Toddster fan-mail are digital.”
“Okay,” the blonde sighed, “I’m sorry for being on edge, but I’m starting to get worried that Sister Ira is going to find us again. She already knows we were camping out at Quinn’s mansion, and she was able to track us down out in the middle of the desert. I wouldn’t be surprised if we were walking right into a trap.”
“Even if we are, I’m not worried,” Sia said nonchalantly. “Sister Ira is a force to be reckoned with, but I saw how she was looking at Jacob during the fundraiser. She’s intrigued by him. Her submissive half has already experienced a beating at his hands, and I’m sure she wants more. I honestly think this whole exercise is merely some sort of sick foreplay for Ira.”
“So Ira’s created this entire plan to invade the Government and get a bill passed and steal private land with a portal to Hell and try to bring Azazel back to life, just because she wants Jacob’s dick?” Todd asked in disbelief.
“Something like that,” the redhead agreed.
“It sounds crazy enough for Sister Ira, that’s for sure.” Libidine shuddered.
“She didn’t seem that crazy the last time I saw her,” I protested. “A little angry and threatening, sure, but crazy?”
“Oh, Jacob…” Sia mused and clicked her tongue. “You haven’t seen anything yet. Sister Ira is a master of manipulation, and you encountered her in a public space in front of dozens of people. She was able to keep herself in check then, but do you remember our encounter at the motel?”
“When she kept asking me to hurt her more and beat her to death with my penis?” I laughed. “How could I forget?”
“That’s the real Ira,” Sia explained, “or at least, that was half of her.”
“Wait until you meet her dominant half.” Cupiditas grimaced. “She’s… fun.”
“If you consider getting tied upside down by your ankles and then having your balls and neck both strangled until they turn blue ‘fun,’” Libidine continued. “And that’s only one of the things she’s told us about.”
“Jakey,” Todd’s voice was dead serious, “if this succubus does end up joining the group, please promise me you’re not gonna get involved in that auto-erotic asphyxiation stuff. I’ve already lost too many friends that way.”
“Like who?” I asked as I frowned at him. “I know everyone that you know, and no--”
“Uhhh, David Carradine?” Todd huffed. “The Kung Fu master?”
“But you didn’t actually kno--”<
br />
“And Vaughn Bodē? Don’t forget about the Cheech Wizard dude. Beer, babes, and a good time, but now--”
“I don’t even know who that--” I started to say, but he continued.
“My point is that I don’t want to lose you, bro,” he huffed. “So, practice safe sex, and don’t let this Ira babe choke you while she’s fucking you. Promise?”
“I promise.” I nodded and held in a laugh.
“Ira is certifiably crazy,” Libidine warned. “She usually means well, but she was always the one that Sister Superbia had to keep in line most often.”
“She once tried to travel into the Ninth Circle so that she could, and I quote, ‘use Lucifer’s horn as a dildo.’” Sia made air quotes as she spoke. “Luckily, the girls and I were able to talk her down before she actually got down there.”
“That sounds like just what our group needs,” Todd said with a giggle. “Somebody who can take some of the heat off of me!”
Up ahead in the distance, I saw a large pencil-shaped building jutting out from the landscape.
“There it is, guys,” I pointed out to my friends in the car, “the nation’s capital.”
“It’s a lot less impressive than I thought it would be.” Cupi frowned. “San Francisco and Las Vegas looked way grander than this. Where are all the tall buildings made of chrome and hotels that look like castles?”
“It’s a different type of city, that’s for sure,” I chuckled. “But it’s like this for a reason. There’s a lot of tradition and history in this area.”
“So it’s almost like the Principes domus saltus?” Sia asked.
I looked over at Todd for an explanation, but the imp simply shrugged and shook his head.
“It’s the main meeting place of Lucifer and his various Demon Kings and Queens,” the redhead explained. “Hell doesn’t have ‘cities’ like you do here on Earth, but rather ‘rounds.’ If I had to try to describe it in mortal terms, the Rounds of Hell are small pocket dimensions housed within the different Circles. They are technically the same physical space, but in different dimensions.”
Todd rubbed his head in confusion. “I didn’t realize Hell was so much like an instanced MMO dungeon.”
“The Principes domus saltus is a Round where any and all official decrees made by Lucifer are created and debated,” Sia continued. “It is also sometimes where negotiations between the forces of the Demonic and the Divine have taken place. I’ve only had the luxury of going there once, with Azazel.”
“What was it like?” I was on the edge of my seat.
“It was beautiful, like nothing else in the netherworld...” Sia’s voice trailed off as she thought of the pleasant memory. “Lots of ivory structures, flowing crystal-clear waterfalls, oases as far as the eye could see, cobblestone streets… Azazel claimed that it was made to look like the part of Heaven in which Lucifer and the Exalted One first had their tensions. It was a small piece of Heaven mixed into the deepest pits of Hell, and it was something that all succubi and lower-level demons aspired to see someday.”
“See?” Todd giggled. “That sounds an awful lot like the place we’re going to.”
“How do you gain access between the different Rounds of Hell?” I asked as we pulled up to our hotel.
“That’s all Charron,” Cupi cut in. “He and his pet dog Cerberus are the only ones who can grant safe travels between the different dimensions with their green Hellfire powers, unless you’re a high-level demon, of course.”
I pulled Shadow into a parking space and cut the ignition.
“So, in theory, if I were to get powerful enough, I could travel through the different dimensions on a whim?” I clarified with the redhead as I opened my door.
“With Charron’s permission.” She shrugged. “He keeps watch over every single paranormal entity in the universe to ensure that they remain where they belong and don’t break the rules of interdimensional travel.”
“Sounds like he could be an awesome ally,” I said as I opened the rear door for the girls.
“Good luck with that.” Libidine chuckled. “Charron isn’t exactly a social butterfly. Plus, he has never left Hell once in his entire life. The only way we could talk to him is to stamp our passports for a trip back to the netherworld.”
“It sounds like that might be what we have to do eventually,” I noted. “Azazel will never stop until we kill him once and for all down on his turf.”
With that solemn note, the five of us exited our Jeep Wrangler, grabbed the bags from the back, and then headed into the Mandarin Oriental.
After the grittiness of our last few lodging experiences, I had made sure to book a five-star hotel for this trip. The Mandarin Oriental was one of the nicest hotels in D.C., and the lobby was no exception. The second I walked through the automatic sliding doors, I began to marvel at the rotunda-style design of the ceilings and the black and yellow marble of the floor. The walls and furniture radiated hues of walnut and cream to give the interior a unique blend of modern and historical.
“It smells like a flowery cherry in here,” Liby noted as we made our way to the front desk.
“Cherry blossoms, babe,” Todd’s disembodied voice corrected her. “Get used to it, because they’re everywhere around here. There’s probably a good cherry-popping or deflowering joke in there somewhere, but I’m really fucking tired.”
It only took a minute for us to check in with the man behind the counter. He made sure that we were in the system, handed us our room key, and then wished us a good night as we departed toward the elevator.
“Did we get a suite this time?” Cupi purred and then stepped into the elevator. “Sister Superbia has yet to stay in one of those fancy places.”
“We’re staying in the presidential suite,” I confirmed with a smile and then slid my special keycard into the panel. “Only the best for my beautiful succubi.”
“Ahem!” a disembodied voice coughed.
“And Todd,” I added.
“Thanks for thinkin’ of me, Jakey,” he replied with a giggle.
We ascended for a few moments, and then the chrome doors of the elevator opened to a cozy-looking hallway. The walls were all painted with a faint pink, and the carpets had a sort of floral pattern.
“Geez, enough with the cherry blossoms,” Todd snarked. “I think we get the hint.”
At the end of the hallway was a fork in the road with two signs. We followed the one that said “Presidential Suite” and were soon met with a large black door.
I clicked the key into the door and turned the knob. The room we were now standing in had three paths, one to the master suite, one to the dining room, and one to the living room. Our shoes clomped against the pristine hardwood floors of the entryway as we passed through into the living room.
This was where my jaw hit the floor.
“Holy shit!” Cupiditas let slip. “This almost looks nicer than Quinn’s mansion!”
The succubus was right. To say this part of the suite was luxurious was an understatement. The whitewashed walls stretched over twenty feet high and featured massive windows that looked out over downtown D.C. The entire room looked like a blend of Colonial and Modern styles, with an elegant Victorian chandelier on the ceiling and a vintage floral-patterned carpet on the floor. Of course, the traditional style was offset with furniture that looked like it was ripped straight out of a New York penthouse, and a large chestnut cabinet stood on the far wall to pull the room together.
Sia whistled. “This looks fit for a king.”
“A President,” I corrected.
“How much did this cost, Jacob?” the redhead asked cautiously.
I patted her on the shoulder and smiled playfully. “Enough.” I winked, and her face contorted into an expression of worry.
“Jacob, there were plenty of decent hotels that were a hundred dollars a night or--” she protested, but I put my finger over her lips.
“Look at them.” I pointed to Cupi, Liby, and Todd.
To
dd was now visible again, and he was sprawled out like a dog on top of one of the couches. Cupiditas and Libidine were both staring longingly out the window, pointing at the bright lights and whispering to each other happily.
“They’re having a great time,” I argued. “There will always be time to get more money, but how many chances do we have to live like kings in Washington?”
“I don’t know,” the redhead murmured thoughtfully. “There are a great many demons disguised as politicians in this world. But... the girls are enjoying themselves so I won’t harp on this too much.”
“That’s what I like to hear!” I clapped my hands together happily and then wrapped my arm around Sia’s shoulder. “We haven’t even seen the best part yet. Let’s go to the bedroom!”
“Uh-- Is this an ‘I want to show off cool shit’ sorta thing, or is this an ‘I want to bang the succubi’ sorta thing?” Todd raised his head off the couch.
“It’s super late, and I’m exhausted,” I assured the imp. “It’s definitely the first one.”
“Woohoo!” Todd jumped to his feet and then dashed off toward the bedroom.
The four of us followed him through the pristine, white-carpeted Den Room into the master suite.
Our bedroom had a similar style to the rest of the Presidential Suite, with a chandelier, antique-looking dressers, and colonial-style artwork all along the walls. Of course, it was all juxtaposed by a large, sixty-inch flat screen TV just across from the bed.
“This isn’t even the best part.” I slyly grinned at the succubi. “Follow me.”
We walked past the massive walk-in closet connected to the bedroom and then onto the black tile of the bathroom floor.
“Wow,” Libidine balked at the sight before her.
The left side of the bathroom was made to be a spa. It had a massive tub filled with water jets, and a long, padded bench sat directly behind. Beside the bench was a porcelain teapot and cups made to look like a traditional china set.
Then there was what I liked to call the “fun side” of the bathroom.
Opposite all the spa equipment sat a gargantuan glass shower. Two waterfall-style showerheads were attached to the ceiling above, accompanied by two removable massager heads on the wall. Against the orangish-tan tile of the wall sat eight chrome knobs and two black grab bars.
