Axes and Angels: A Snarky Urban Fantasy Novel (Better Demons Series Book 1)

by Matthew Herrmann

  “Desperate?” Orion asked.

  “You’re the one who was so excited about this job in the first place.”

  “Yeah, if we take our time and prepare. This is Typhon we’re talking about.”

  “He’s a bad dude. So what? It’s not like we’re going to meet him face to face or draw his attention. Sounds like a standard gig. We go to this event thing—what did he say, a cage fight?—sneak away, steal the item and leave before anyone notices.”

  “It’s just that …”

  I grabbed the front of Orion’s leather jacket and tugged him close to me. “I need this job.”

  “Because of the money? Theo? How much do you need this time?”

  “Don’t say it like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I owe you money.”

  “Well, you do.”

  “I thought I’d worked that debt off.”

  “Which one?”

  “Shit, Orion. Yes. I need the money.”

  “How much?”

  “18K to bring an account up to balance.”

  Orion exhaled noisily. “I’m not even going to ask what you need it for.”

  “Good. So unless you have 18K to lend me …”

  “I work on a farm,” he said. “I don’t have 18K laying around.”

  “Seriously? You never spend it, though!”

  “I … give most to charity,” he said awkwardly.

  “You bleeding heart, you. Rather help complete strangers than your partner …”

  “Look Theo, you’re my best friend.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “If you want to do this job, I’m all in. We’ll figure it out.”

  I sighed. Rested a hand on Orion’s elbow, his hand still resting on my shoulder. “Thank you.” I was still trying to come to terms with what Orion had just said. I was his best friend? Damn … I considered him my best friend as well. It was a crazy world and he kept me level-headed when I said or did something stupid …

  In that moment I knew I still had a chance to turn back.

  But that’s never been my style.

  I addressed the shadows at the front of the room. “Tomorrow night is good. Now where do we sign?”

  It wasn’t until we stepped back out into the chandelier-lit foyer that I saw the blood dripping from a grouping of shallow cuts on my wrist. Was that … rabbit teeth marks? Oh well. The main thing was that my shoes hadn’t been harmed in that nightmare realm. Talk about dodging a bullet—those things cost me $150!

  And seeing my own wounds, I turned to Orion as he was lifting back his jacket sleeve. Underneath was what looked like a minor acid burn. It was fresh.

  Yikes. Had Orion had acid thrown at him during his test? Maybe my nightmare hadn’t been so bad after all …

  When we were outside, Orion and I drew in a deep breath; I hadn’t realized how much tension my body had been storing. The chilly breeze swaying the surrounding tree branches and the sun heating up the paved cul-de-sac were a welcome distraction from what we’d just experienced. As Orion would say, Ah, the wonders of nature …

  Orion looked at me. “So what was your biggest fear?”

  I turned my head so that I wasn’t looking right at him. “I’d rather not say.” I picked at a fingernail. “What about you?”

  Orion glanced down at his shoes. “I’d rather not say either.”

  “Good. How about we go then?”

  “Prepping Like a Prepper”

  The average job required 7-14 days of planning. Orion and I had just accepted possibly the most difficult job of our careers, and we had about 36 hours to plan, prepare and execute …

  Needless to say, prep work began immediately. I pulled up one of my contacts and brought my phone to my ear as Orion guided the truck out through the mansion’s gates and past the guard shack.

  A chipper voice answered the phone. “This is Joe at ‘Joe’s Tactical Advantage,’ Your Local Urban Apocalypse and Prepper Supply Store. How can I help you today?”

  “Joe, it’s Theo. I need some supplies.”

  There was a pause. “Oh. Heh. Theo. Long time no hear.”

  “Yeah, had a little dry spell. But I’m back in business and you’re my man.”

  “Yes umm what do you need?”

  I wasn’t exactly sure.

  “The standard. Darts for my tranq pistol. Nylon rope. Taser. The usual.”

  “Nordic model?”

  I thought about it. This was an important job so I wasn’t going to flake. “Let’s go with the Triton model.”

  “Oh … OK. You uh will be able to afford all this. Right?”

  “You insult me,” I said with a coy laugh. “When have I never paid in full for everything?”

  “You mean on time?” Joe asked.

  “Look. Give me a few days and I’ll be able to pay you with interest.”

  “Sure Theo. OK Theo.” He scribbled something down. “Anything else?”

  I turned to Orion. “You need anything?”

  He kept his eyes on the road and shook his head. The obvious equipment he might need replenishing was crossbow bolts, but Orion made his own bolts, crafting them from ash wood instead of using the carbon or aluminum ones so common nowadays. Well, what’s a centuries-old-constellation to do in this modern world? Got to hold on to something I guess. “Some smoke grenades would be nice to have,” he said at last.

  “Joe,” I said. “Can you hook me up with some smoke grenades?”

  “Sure. Anything else?”

  I didn’t think so. “Not unless you got any new treats in.”

  “Eh. Got a new shipment of that pomegranate caffeine gum you like.”

  “Joe,” I said leaning over the center console. “I love you. Yes, give me a carton if you’ve got one. That stuff is essential for staying alert on the job.”

  “You got it,” Joe said, and I could almost hear the dollar signs cha-chinging in his accountant’s mind. He used to be an accountant before he realized there was a large demand for prepper supplies in NY. While he never gave names, he professed to know plenty of rich NY CEOs and tycoons with prepper safe havens upstate.

  “You want to hear the total?” Joe asked.

  “Nah,” I said. “Make it a surprise.”

  “For when you pay me … within a week?” There was more than a little hope in his voice.

  “How about in three days?” I said.

  “Eh, I’ll believe it when I see it. I’ll have everything ready when I open tomorrow morning.”

  “Great. Thanks, Joe.” I lowered the phone. We were passing through some lovely rolling hills now. I turned to Orion. “Now how about we get some blueprints for you to go over?”

  “That would be nice,” he said simply. “The tech girl that lives in your apartment building’s basement?”

  I nodded.

  Orion drove.

  We made good time making it back to the apartment building and grabbed lunch at the bodega.

  Amir came up to me when we were about finished. He looked angsty and in need but I knew he was too polite to ask for help.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Don’t worry about it. You’re with a friend.”

  “No, do you need help with something?”

  He lowered his eyes. “It’s Daredevil.”

  “The comic book character?” Orion asked, thoroughly confused.

  “The cat,” I said, a bit surprised at Orion’s knowledge of pop culture. I turned to Amir. “What’s wrong with him?”

  Amir fidgeted. Glanced back at the narrow door behind the counter. “I haven’t seen Daredevil all morning. When I got in today, the door to … downstairs … was ajar. I think Daredevil wandered down there again.” He looked at me, his face wrinkly, his eyes droopy and beseeching like a Basset hound’s. “You have a … rapport with her. Do you not?”

  I smiled. “Well …”

  Amir threw his hands up. “You are busy. I understand. I would not wish to usurp your time for it is precious.” He looked up
ward as if begging the heavens for help. “I would go down there myself,” he said, clutching a hand over his chest, “but you know my ticker isn’t what it used to be.”

  I stood up and put a hand on Amir’s wrist. “It’s no problem. I need to talk to her anyways.”

  “Are you sure, Theo? I don’t want to put unwanted burdens on your shoulders.”

  I smiled. It wasn’t hard—like I said, Amir was one of the friendliest people I’ve ever met. The kind you want to help even if you can’t. I sure as hell wasn’t doing this to help his damn devil cat …

  I crumpled up my wrappers and napkins and tossed them in the trash.

  Orion rose with me. “Is it dangerous? Down there?” he asked, nodding at the narrow door behind the counter.

  “Nothing I can’t handle,” I said.

  “Is it a crypt?”

  “Geez, Orion. This is a bodega. Not a mortuary. It’s a basement.”

  “I will accompany you.”

  I thought briefly of my tech girl and how it might be better if … he didn’t see her, if not for several reasons, the least of which I figured was bodily harm.

  I pressed my palm against his chest, sensing the tight muscles beneath his jacket and shirt. “It’s best if I see her alone. She’s … awkward around people.”

  Orion looked at me carefully.

  Amir smiled and nodded at Orion. “Theo is a brave young woman. You are very lucky to have each other—”

  “We’re not …” I started to say but let the words drop. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to leave Orion alone with Amir; who knows what they would get to talking about me. Of course, when did I start caring what people thought of me? I stared at them both for a moment, wondering since when did so many middle-aged men come into my life?

  Oh well.

  I stepped behind the counter and picked up a bulky flashlight on a side shelf, clicked it on, opened the door.

  “Good luck,” Amir said, almost tearfully, I thought.

  Geez, it wasn’t like I was going to a funeral …

  But all the same, I was a bit nervous as I descended the narrow stairs.

  “(Not) Alone in the Dark”

  To be clear, I wasn’t concerned about Amir’s basement tenant. She was nice enough, although really, really quirky. But genius comes at a price and there was nothing that girl couldn’t do with a computer and a strong Internet connection. I’d used her more than once as my tech girl. And given what was coming up, I was sure I’d need her again.

  But I was worried about Amir’s cat. I’m not joking about it being the incarnation of evil.

  The fact that the cat was completely black and so was the enveloping darkness around me didn’t make things any easier. But me, being a former Greek special ops badass, I wasn’t afraid of the dark.

  Well, I was a little afraid of the dark. I sucked in my breath and soldiered on down the much-too-narrow staircase.

  I reached the bottom, swatting cobwebs aside as a gentle humming reached my ears: dehumidifiers and other sorts of temperature control apparatuses positioned along the walls. Expensive computer equipment required certain atmospheric conditions. In fact, the entire far wall contained rack upon rack of servers.

  All the same, it did seem a bit chillier than it needed to be down here. And the wispy spiderwebs grazing my bare neck certainly didn’t help.

  I paused, listening for any sign of a cat until I remembered that, oh yeah, cats don’t really make sounds when they don’t want to. Especially demon cats …

  I played the bulky flashlight around the basement. It was the kind of old-school flashlight that always peters out in horror movies right before the killer strikes. No killers here … And then something new caught my eye at the center of the room.

  It looked like a bunch of amps and speakers. There was even a turntable. Combined together, it all looked like a very expensive DJ setup.

  I crouched down and flashed the light behind it.

  “Here, Kitty Kitty … I know you’re down here, Mr. Demon Cat …”

  I winced as Simon meowed from the safety of his shoulder pad. “Simon, the cat can’t hear you.”

  He cringed back in his pad. “Just trying to help. Can we go back upstairs now? This place scares me. She scares me.”

  I considered it. I really did. But Amir was counting on me, and I liked Amir. Besides, I had to speak with my tech girl.

  I knocked down another spiderweb and peeked between two speakers. The flashlight flickered and then went out completely. I smacked it and it came back on.

  “I think I just saw him!” Garfunkel said.

  “Where?” I spun, the flashlight beam jerking erratically. I could almost imagine the damned devil cat stalking up behind me as silently as a ghost drifting over water …

  “Just messing with you. I didn’t see anything.”

  “Jerk.”

  “Takes one to know one …”

  I made a fist. I hated when Garfunkel was right.

  There came a soft movement like a whisper and I spun again, the flashlight dying for the second time. GoneGodDamnit …

  I beat the flashlight against my thigh but it didn’t come back on this time.

  “We’re all gonna die!” Simon wailed.

  I set the flashlight on the ground and turned on my smartphone’s flashlight. When I heard the whispering again, I spun.

  Nothing.

  Then I felt a strand of hair brush my neck and shoulder pad. And it wasn’t my hair.

  I tilted my head slowly to the side, coming nose to nose with one of the most beautiful faces I’d ever seen. High cheekbones, smooth, perfectly spray-tanned skin, long stylish eyelashes and plump cherry lips to die for …

  Of course, her eyes were solid black like a demon’s.

  Also, she was upside down, suspended just over my shoulder behind me like a giant spider.

  “Theo! WUP? LTNS!”

  Which was slang for “What’s up? Long time, no see.” See, I’d introduced her to Reddit a few years back and now she thought everyone in real life talked like that.

  I ran a hand back through my hair and laughed. “Arachne. Oh, you know. Been busy.”

  She smiled wickedly and righted herself in the darkness with a swishing aerial half-somersault, landing with a soft click-click-click. Click-click. She brought her perfectly tanned and slender forearms together, her small dainty hands clasping together seductively as she tapped her fingertips against each other gleefully.

  And I wasn’t just jealous of her purple glossy fingernails but also the expensive pink blouse and chic form-fitting leather jacket gripping her slender body.

  “That’s good to stay busy,” Arachne said. “I’ve been uber busy too. Did you see my new equipment?”

  I switched the flashlight over to the turntable apparatus. “DJ Arachne?”

  Her solid black eyes widened with glee as her fingers writhed against each other like bodies in the dark. “Yasss! I’ve been waiting to tell you! You’re the first to know. I … don’t have many true friends, you know.”

  I couldn’t help but gawk at Arachne’s perfect … upper body. And hair. Man, I loved her shiny black hair … “What? You’ve got other friends.”

  “No, Theo. Not true friends. Not like you, Theo, my BFF.”

  BFF? I should probably say that Arachne and I aren’t that close. In fact I hardly know her. I usually only come to her when I need tech support on a job, the realization of which kind of made me feel like shit.

  I’m so selfish …

  “That’s not true,” I said. “You’ve got like a million followers on Instagram.”

  “One-point-two million,” Arachne corrected. Her phone chimed and she smiled embarrassedly which somehow came across as super sexy, and I’m not into women. “New follower.”

  “Sheesh, my bad,” I said. “That’s so impressive. You must work really hard at it.”

  She placed a hand under her chin in a Cinderella pose. Man, I really liked her hair. “Not really,” she sa
id as she fluffed her hair with her hand. “I just post selfies and people keep following me and, like, asking for more.”

  I just looked at her and nodded. I had a Facebook account, and I think I had like twelve friends, most of whom were family back in Greece.

  Arachne sighed. “But they don’t know the real me.” Her face brightened. “Like you do.” She stepped forward into the light of my flashlight, exposing the part of her body that extended below where her thighs should be. I didn’t have to steel myself for the sight of it anymore but all the same, I clenched my teeth. Instead of human legs, her waist connected to a shiny, black, round spider abdomen with eight stick-like legs. Imagine the body and legs of a black widow spider and you get the picture.

  Simon cried out from his protective shoulder pad; for an angel of purity, he sure could be a judgmental little prick.

  I opened my mouth to say something but she beat me to it.

  “I’m thinking of revealing my true body to the world! What do you think?”

  “I … don’t … know?”

  What? Words are hard sometimes.

  “A few nights from now at my first DJ gig.” Arachne’s face sagged. “You don’t think it’s a good idea?”

  She’d showed me some of her Instagram profiles over the years. They were all seductive as hell (and yet somehow equally cute—it’s the hair!), strategically showing only her perfect and human-looking upper body, her black eyes concealed by sexy shades. Also, she had a tiny gap between her two front teeth, a slight imperfection that only amplified her beauty. (Of course, I was the only one to whom she’d confided in that the gap was where she spat her digestive juices to liquify her food—yeah talk about TMI …)

  I guess no one’s exactly who they say they are on social media. (*except me—remember, twelve friends!)

  I couldn’t help but feel bad for her. Now Arachne’s face drooped like a forgotten plant. “You don’t think the world is ready to meet the real me …”

  I raised a hand and, for better or worse, spoke from my heart. “I don’t think it matters what the world thinks. And neither should you.”