She brushed an imaginary piece of lint from her breast, her nipple hardening under her fingers.
Bitch.
“This is a limited time offer.” She stroked a finger across her lips, running it down the curve of her neck. “And I expect foreplay.”
“Good luck with that,” I said, moving towards her. Fuck it.
Submission, like foreplay, was overrated anyway.
Twelve thirty-one a.m. My jeans circled my knees, and my boxers followed suit. I tugged on her hair and she bit me, but complied with my suggested positioning. Something taken straight out of the Demons Guide to Karma Sutra. Her back arched, and I lost myself to the feel of her hot skin.
Twelve thirty-eight a.m. My leg cramped and Lilith twisted underneath me. Her evil eyes burning with lust. “You know, Satan can go all night.”
I shrugged, rolling her on top of me. “So can Mary.” I caught her fist before it slammed into my eye. “Now shut up. I’m trying to concentrate.”
Twelve fifty-two a.m.
“Don’t stop.” Lilith raked her nails across my chest before exploding with her fourth orgasm in fifteen minutes. Bells and whistles, bright glowing light, blah, blah, blah.
One thirty-four a.m.
Crack. “I think that was my spine.”
Two sixteen a.m.
“Yes. Yes. Oh God, yes.”
Three forty-five a.m.
“You’re on the pill, right?”
Four fifteen a.m.
“I can’t move.” I groaned. Lilith lay curled on my side, her naked body pressed against my sweat-soaked skin.
She lifted her head. “Poor baby.”
“No, I mean it. I really can’t move.” I tried to lift my arm, but it wouldn’t comply. “I think you crushed my spine.”
“Oh.” She laughed, but like a trained chiropractor, she snapped my vertebrate in place. “Better?”
“Thanks.” I closed my eyes, basking in our post-coital bliss.
With a yawn, Lilith said, “Get out.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” She stabbed her foot into my ribs, and pushed.
“Nothing’s changed.”
“You’re kidding me.” I stumbled from her bed, searching the floor for my jeans. “Where am I going to sleep?”
“Like I care.” Lilith pulled a cell phone from her nightstand, and tossed it at me. “I’ll call you when I find the kid.”
Bitch.
“Oh, and don’t forget your,” she glanced down, “little sword.”
Thirty Two
I took the D train from Lilith’s apartment, Tyrfing riding shotgun in the seat next to me. A group of teenagers pushed through the empty car, took one look at the sword, and headed in the opposite direction.
Hopping off the subway at Grand Avenue, I wandered the streets mumbling to myself until the sun peeked over the skyline.
Fucking Lilith.
Forget about her, my brain ordered. Find the kid and leave that evil succubus behind. I laughed, knowing it wasn’t that easy. She’d broken more than my spine tonight. My defenses had taken a beating, and I’d be damned if I didn’t want her more now than ever before. Was it witchcraft, some succubae sex magic, or complete and total stupidity?
I yawned, exhaustion plaguing my every step. As I turned onto Avenue D, rain started to fall from the clouds.
Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.
Not rain. Hamsters. I looked up, and took a hamster to the skull. Shit.
I ducked under an awning while the streets filled with small furry rodents.
Small furry confused rodents. They bumped into each other, chirped and squeaked, as more dropped from the sky.
What the hell?
The kid. He must be close. I searched the hamster packed street, but saw nothing. Maybe I really had snapped, and the past five days were nothing but a delusion. It made as much sense as God entrusting his only kid to a guy like me. Looking to the heavens, I prayed for a sign.
“Jace?” Mary appeared in front of me, her face scrunched with concern.
“Mary? How did you find me?” I pinched my arm to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. That, in fact, the once object of my desire, was standing in front of me.
She motioned to my finger. “You’re ringing my apartment.”
Damn so I was. I released her doorbell. “Sorry.”
“Are you all right?” She wrapped her arm around my shoulder and half dragged me into the building, Tyrfing flopping behind me.
“It’s raining hamsters.”
“What? Did you fall and hit your head?” Her hand brushed through my hair checking for injuries.
I searched the now empty street. No hamsters. Shit. “I don’t think so.” My eyes lost focus for a few seconds, and I tripped up the stairs, landing face first on the smelly carpet.
“Come on, let’s get you upstairs and into bed.” Mary hefted me up and dragged me up the rest of the steps.
Bed. Bad idea. “I can’t… we can’t… um…”
“Relax. I’m not going to rip your clothes off.” She smiled, her eyes filling with tenderness and love. “I’m worried about you.”
God, I was an asshole. I didn’t deserve such kindness, but even as I basked in the glow of Mary’s love, a picture of Lilith formed inside my mind.
“Here we are, baby.” Mary pushed open her door. “Why don’t you go lay down and I’ll be there in a second.”
I gave her a small smile, and like a dutiful child headed to her bedroom, her pink bedroom, the same cotton candy color of every one of my ex-wives. Fuck, Lilith had been right. Mary was a carbon copy of my past three mistakes.
My fingers traced the edge of Mary’s pale cherry dresser. What had drawn me to her in the first place? Sure, she was beautiful, but passionless like the Mona Lisa, or a Hustler.
Damn it. Lilith had ruined me. Before I’d met her, I knew what I wanted in life. Actually, I hadn’t wanted anything, and maybe that was the problem. Mary was the easy choice. Simple. Unconditional. Boring. Shit.
Her bed seemed inviting though, decorated with an embroidered pink-haired unicorn pillow. I looked closer. Were those teeth? The fucking thing had fangs. I picked it up and tossed it on top the dresser with a shiver.
Mary definitely had an edgy side.
Tyrfing scraped against her bedpost as I unbuckled and slid it under the bed. Tomorrow I’d find the kid. I knew it with an almost frightening divine certainty.
The good guys would win, and the evil succubus bitch could go fuck herself. The sword under the bed started to buzz, so I shook off my residual anger and lay down on Mary’s fluffy soft bed.
An exotic blend of incense reached my nostrils. It smelled like Jasmine and Clary sage. I sniffed again. Jasmine, sage, and purity? Sulfur?
My head started to pound, and blood pooled in my groin.
“Mary?” I cleared my throat.
“Right here, my love.” She stood in the doorway, glowing in the early morning sunlight. Her naked skin shone like an angel, its intensity burning my tired eyes. Her legs trembled as she floated toward me.
“Listen, I like you and we’ve had—” I started. My mind flashed to Lilith’s face, and the scars on her back. I pictured her playful smile, and the teeth marks torn into my skin.
Mary’s fingertips brushed my lips, stopping my protest. “Forget her. Forget everything but this moment. Us. Here and now.”
Forget her.
I blinked a couple of times. Mary. Sweet Mary. Our lips touched in a gentle, undemanding kiss. Longing built within me, the sweet and sentimental kind. My exhaustion gave way to the soft feel of her fingers on my skin.
I kissed her neck, running my thumb across her breast. Her flesh tasted like honey, but smelled like sage. Here, in her arms, urgency faded and time stopped. Mary lifted my sweatshirt from my body and kissed my bruised skin, tracing her nails across my sore muscles.
She smiled. Soft, sweet Mary.
In no rush, she removed my boots grimacing at the green smears on t
heir soles. Was that gum? I pressed my fists against my eyes. A fleeting vision crossed my fevered brain, but I couldn’t catch hold of it.
My jeans hit the floor, again without urgency. I floated in a dream-like state, playing with the ends of Mary’s long blonde hair and imagining our life together.
Violet-eyed Mary.
She straddled me, riding me as pleasure curled around us. My dog tags around her neck jangled with a steady beat. I caught a glimpse of my expression in the metal and barely recognized myself. My pupils had expanded until my irises disappeared, turning my eyeballs black. Beads of sweat rolled off my face, puddling on Mary’s pink sheets.
My breathing spiked, coming faster and faster. After ten or so minutes, my will gave in to my body’s desire to climax. I came inside her, losing my sense of time and place.
Again, a memory of something tickled at the back of my brain, but no matter how hard I tried it stayed elusive.
Mary collapsed on top of me. Her skin was barely damp, and her hair had stayed in perfect order. Against my neck, she whispered, “You are mine. Tonight and forever.”
No. Bile rose in my throat, as did the heavy and sudden need for sleep. I fought to keep my eyes open, but with each breath, I slipped deeper into a dream world.
“Hush baby, don’t fight it.” Mary kissed my lips.
I closed my eyes, seeing a face I didn’t recognize, a beautiful, black-haired woman with a wicked smile, and cat yellow eyes.
Thirty Three
Sometime during my impression of Rip Van Winkle, Mary kissed my forehead and left the bed. I felt her go, heard her rustling around the bedroom, and then nothing. Peace. Quiet. Deep, even breathing.
The dreams came. Violent, bloody nightmares. The kid crawled on the floor, weaving his way closer to my body. My dead body with brains splattered over the concrete.
The angel glared down at me. “Time is everything.”
The kid picked up a piece of my skull, blood, and drool dripping from his chubby fingers. “Mine. Mine. Mine.”
God entered next, his hippie beard riddled with organic corn chips, and Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia. “God should have His own flavor,” he complained before gazing down at my corpse. “First, second squared. They’re all the same.” He kicked my dead arm. “Never trust a man willing to die for the devil.”
Next the whispered voice of a woman cried, “Help me.”
A hollow, feminine laugh followed the voice. It grew louder, and louder, until the bits of my gray matter and brain pan scattered across the ground. A stark white cat gobbled them up with an evil grin.
I awoke shivering, naked and alone. Where was I? Pink everywhere.
Mary. Fuck. I picked up the nearest pillow and beat myself in the head.
What had I done? And how the hell was I going to explain to her?
Well thanks for the fuck, but I’m infatuated with a demonic succubus who wants me dead. Even I didn’t understand it.
I rubbed my face. As long as Lilith didn’t find out everything would be fine. If she did find out, Mary could always join the witness protection program. Maybe get a new identity, and some plastic surgery. Hell, I’d join her. I glanced around the pink room. Maybe not.
Sitting up, I whimpered in pain. My body ached with a deep unending burn. I glanced down at my chest, and the numerous bite and scratch marks left by Lilith. What had Mary said? Mine, now and forever?
Odd that Lilith, not Mary, had left her mark.
I needed to call Lilith. No matter what had happened between us, the kid came first. We both knew and accepted that. I searched the floor for my jeans, and the cell phone Lilith had handed me the night before.
Curled in a ball at the end of the bed, my jeans lay with its pockets flipped inside out. Two cents and a breath mint sat on the floor next to them.
No cell phone, though. Damn. Had I lost it?
I dropped to my knees to search for the wayward device. My hand reached under the bed, pulling out a dust bunny the size of a bowling ball.
Mary wasn’t a great housekeeper. Yet another check mark for Lilith.
Wait a minute. Only a dust bunny, I thought. I reached under the bed again, panic racing along my nerves. No. No. No. I tossed the mattress from the bed, knocking the barren frame out of my way.
Tyrfing was gone, a dusty outline the only evidence of its existence.
Had Mary taken it? Or had something snuck in here while I slept? Was it Lilith?
Lilith. My stomach rolled, doubling me over. I sprinted to the bathroom and hurled into Mary’s pink-coated sink.
A horrific smell seeped through the room. Like fish. Dead stinky fish. I fell back a step. The stench came from the shower. I held my nose and crept toward the pasty pink shower curtain.
Grabbing the edge, I counted to three and ripped it open. Thousands of dead fish lay piled in the tub, with greasy gray skin and an oily sheen, not to mention their blank black eyes. I shoved the curtain back in place and ran to the sink. Dead fish? Was Mary into some sort of cult?
After my stomach settled, I threw on my jeans and borrowed Mary’s house phone. I dialed Lilith’s number. It rang once then went to voicemail.
Damn. My guts tightened even more, and my level of anxiety reached biblical proportions. Something was terribly wrong.
Hanging up, I shook my head. Where was she and where the fuck was my sword and cell phone?
I scribbled a quick note to Mary, saying, 'It’s been fun but it’s time we moved on'. I added an ‘it’s not you, but me line’, and signed it, your friend, Jace. It was official. I was an asshole.
“Help me,” a voice inside my head whispered. Chills shot up my back, and my anxiety changed to outright panic. I knew that voice. Oh God, I knew that voice.
I grabbed my nine-millimeter, checked the four rounds left in the clip, and ran for the door.
Thirty Four
I took the stairs two at a time, and hit the street running. I ran and ran, my legs and lungs burning. But where was I going? I had no idea, but in my soul, I knew I was too late. The voice was fading.
Turning the corner of D, I slammed into a passing taxi and dropped to my knees. Please God, I stared into the hamster heavy clouds and prayed.
“You must hurry, Nemamiah.” The angel appeared next to me, his angel face looking a little green. “Time is running out.”
“But where am I going?” I scanned his expression for an answer.
Any answer. Hell, I’d settle for a direction. Something. Anything.
The angel shrugged, twirled without moving his feet, and pointed up the street. “North, I think.”
“That’s south.”
“I am not good with directions.” He picked at his robe, pulling at a long white string. “God did not install GPS on His earlier angel versions.”
I clenched my fists. “Do you know where they are?”
“Yes.”
“Where?” I stood and grabbed his feathery shoulders, shaking him hard. Teeth rattling hard. “Tell me, damn it.”
The angel smiled sadly. “I cannot tell you.”
“What if we play twenty questions?”
He clapped his hands together. “Yes, yes. A game. I love to play games. I prefer Mage. That Aphrodite knows her stuff. She beat my character, Celestial Choruster—”
“Are they in the city?”
He scratched his chin. “The answer to question one is yes. They are in what you call the Bugged Apple. Nineteen questions to go.”
Bugged Apple. I shook my head. Why did I bother? I doubted he could tie his own shoes. “Are they within five miles of here?”
His fingers flicked out as he counted. One. Two. Three. Four. His pinky finger rose but only to the first knuckle. Four point two. “Yes. Seventeen questions left.”
Four point two miles left only one direction. North. I started to run.
In New York, a four-mile cab ride could take forty-five minutes. On my worst day, and this one was top at the list, I could run that in less than twenty-f
ive.
“Wait.” The angel pumped his skinny legs behind me. “The game is not over. Time is not up. You have ten questions to go.”
Time…
No way. It couldn’t be that easy. I ran the remaining four miles, my sweatshirt dripping with sweat, and my heart slamming in my ribcage.
At the mouth of Hell’s Gate, or West 40th street as New Yorkers called it, I paused to glance up at the Panasonic Astro Vision television screen, and the stiff, robotic reporter from Fox News plastered across it.
The screen swallowed half a block of prime Times Square real estate, and could be seen from space. But Astronauts, like most Americans, chose to watch reruns of The Simpsons over Fox News. Who could blame them?
An image of cat-yellow eyes flashed across the screen, followed by a child’s laugh. Lilith and the kid were close, lost somewhere in the labyrinth of corporations, and television studios.
I sucked in a deep breath and looked up at the glowing white and red, Virgin sign. Behind the bright lights, an evil without name lurked.
The voice inside my head cried again, “Too late.”
Not this time. I swallowed hard and ran straight for hell.
~ * ~
According to my good versus evil manual, every city had an entryway to hell. New York was no different. In the alley behind the Virgin building, a heavy blue dumpster sat, half of its rollers broken leaving it listing to one side. Beneath the dumpster, a blackened grate covered the doorway to hell. An entryway to the dammed, an alcove into the underworld.
I reached the alley, creeping carefully through the shadows. Day shifted to night. An evil darkness filled the corridor. A dark so complete, I couldn’t see my feet squishing through God knew what on the concrete below.
My hand trailed along the hard brick, counting off each step. The angel followed behind me, actually floated behind me, his shoes too precious to wade through petrified rat shit and rotting lettuce.
“I do not like the dark,” he whined. “Nemamiah, I said I do not like this darkness.”
I held up my hand. “Shut up.” A scratching sound, like metal scrapping against metal, echoed ahead. Shit. Was something escaping from or to hell?
Holy Socks and Dirtier Demons (v1.1) (clean fmt) Page 13
