Holy Socks and Dirtier Demons (v1.1) (clean fmt)

by J. A. Kazimer

  I may not be able to find Lilith, but I would find Mary. And when I did, she’d learn there were worst places than hell.

  I cracked my knuckles. My lust for vengeance overshadowed the fact a quarter of my brains were squished under me. Staggering to my feet, I glanced down at Lilith’s now cold body. Her skin had lost its glow, her yellow eyes dimmed to a muted brown. I picked her up, cupping her protectively in my arms.

  “What are you doing?” The angel gestured, his face tight and afraid.

  I ignored his question. “Hand me the kid, and grab that sword.” My eyes locked on Tyrfing. I added quickly, “But don’t pick it up with your wings.” I wasn’t sure if Tyrfing would affect the angel, but I wasn’t going to take the chance.

  “You should leave the mean one.” The angel gripped the sword with my sweatshirt after passing me the Baby Jesus. “Her place is here.”

  “No.” I lifted Lilith over my shoulder in a makeshift fireman’s carry, and tucked the kid underneath my other arm. Using my body to shield him, I trudged from the gates of hell, and into Times Square.

  Screams from passing tourist reverberated through my aching head, but I paid them little attention, focused instead on locating Lilith’s Gremlin and getting the fuck out of there.

  “Where is it?” I motioned to the angel.

  “Two blocks south.” He smiled, as if he’d solved all of my problems.

  I shook my head and headed north. Sure enough three blocks later, the Gremlin sat parked against a curb. A sign warned of the dangers of parking in that specific spot in the NYPD’s stiff, intimidating language.

  Lilith, God love her, had left a fuck you note to parking police on the windshield, and the keys in the ignition.

  Shoving the kid into the backseat, I buckled Lilith in the front and jumped into the driver’s seat. The angel huffed, but climbed into the back without further comment. Once we were all settled, I cranked the ignition, pounded on the dash, and pumped the gas.

  The Gremlin coughed once, sputtered, and died.

  Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  I pounded on the dashboard, a tear of frustration and rage rolled down my cheek. A manly tear. Lilith’s voice whispered in my head, “Suck it up, you big baby. Do you see J.C. crying?”

  I grinned, probably delusional, but comforted all the same. I twisted the keys again, and laughed when the engine roared to life. Things were looking up. I slammed the Gremlin into drive, and without a destination in mind, sped up the avenue.

  ~ * ~

  In the dead of the night, I drove an angel, a dead girl, and God’s son, his diaper filled with shit, to Queens.

  My mind raced, connecting the dots of today’s events. Mary had stolen the kid, kept him locked away, but to what end? She wasn’t working alone. I was sure of it. So who dared to fuck with God, and the Devil?

  Samuel.

  His named popped into my head, and my knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. I glanced into the darkness, and then into the backseat where the angel sat. “Wait here,” I said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  The angel nodded, his eyes leery as I picked up Lilith’s body and carried her through the gates of the Calvary Cemetery.

  The gravestones looked the same as they had days ago. I weaved my way through the headstones and angelic statues, memories surging like the scent of death surrounding me. Ahead the marble stone of Steve Brodie’s mausoleum glinted under a single, bright star.

  I smiled, a lifetime had past since Lilith locked me inside, actually, two lifetimes. Leaning her body against the cold stone, I pushed the door open. Inside the crypt smelled of stale air and black candles. Homey.

  Wrapping Lilith in my arms for the last time, I held her close and inhaled the scent of her. Exotic tobacco and sin. I kissed her forehead and set her down on the icy ground.

  “I will make this right,” I promised over the lump in my throat. My lips brushed hers, and for a second, I imagined a spark of life in her frozen corpse. But unlike Sleeping Beauty, Lilith stayed dead.

  I swallowed hard and glanced to Heaven. “I’m not fucking Job. Get it? Bring her back.”

  Silence filled the chamber. Dead, thick silence.

  “Stubborn prick.” I flipped God off, and bent over Lilith once more.

  “Don’t give up on me.” I grabbed her bluish hand, kissed it, and staggered to my feet. My eyes burned with tears, but I refused to let them fall. Tears were for the dead, and I’d be damned if I’d give Lilith up that easy.

  At the entrance of the crypt, I lit another candle and said goodbye before I closed the door for the last time.

  Thirty Nine

  “Here.” Hades handed me another beer followed by a shot of milk-turned-whiskey.

  I slumped on a bar stool at the Underworld, drowning myself in liquor. Cheap liquor. The angel and the kid sat at the opposite end of the bar watching a stupid cartoon about the tribulations of a yellow square. The kid looked bored, the angel mesmerized.

  “I just don’t get it.” I shook my head, warding off duel images of Hades, and swallowed the shot. “Why didn’t Mary try and kill me sooner? It wasn’t like she didn’t have the chance.”

  Hades patted my shoulder. “Who knows with women? Persephone threatens to smoother me in my sleep every night, but come morning, I’m still breathing.”

  Cupid, Hades’s long-time rival for Persephone’s affections, crawled on top the barstool next to me. His breath reeked of alcohol covered by breath mints and ass. “Mary’s the blonde one, right?”

  “Yeah, that bitch.” I chugged my beer and motioned for another.

  “When I find her...”

  “I can make that happen.” His heart-shaped eyelid winked at me.

  “Fuck off, you sawed-off Romeo.” Hades pushed Cupid, knocking his diaper-wrapped ass to the floor. “Jace don’t need your help.”

  “No, wait.” I stumbled to my feet, my brain swimming in the deep-end of a whiskey pool. “Do you know where Mary is?”

  Cupid shook his overly large cherub head. “Not exactly.”

  “Don’t listen to him.” Hades gestured to the shorter demi-God. “He’s a hack, Jace. A weasel. A drunk.”

  I waved Hades off, and focused on Cupid. “Tell me what you know.”

  He inched himself back onto the bar stool, and said, “Well, I know for a fact love is in the air.”

  I rolled my eyes. Fuck love. What had it ever done for me? I’d married for love, fucked for love, and died for it. None of it mattered. Lilith was dead. Mary was an evil bitch, and I was drunk enough to listen to a dude in a diaper.

  “I’ll have you know during the month of February more babies are conceived than any other time of the year.” Cupid nodded his head.

  “So?” I sat down again, and drank half of the beer Hades set in front of me while waiting for Cupid, who oddly looked like a lollipop, to make his point. “What the fuck does that have to do with Mary?”

  Cupid frowned. “Nothing. But it has plenty to do with the seed planted inside the other one.”

  “What?” I jumped from the stool, tripped over my feet, and landed hard on my ass. “Lilith was pregnant? Why didn’t she tell me?” I pictured a small demon child in her womb with her cat-eyes, and Samuel’s boy band sneer and bad bleach job. What kind of mother would Lilith have made? A good one, I bet, but with Samuel as a father, the poor kid never had a chance.

  Demon spawn times two.

  “Maybe Lilith didn’t know, but my point is, preventative measures should always be taken.” Cupid smiled, as if everything he said had made perfect sense.

  “What?” Hades shook his head, and grabbed the glass of amber liquid in front of Cupid. “You’re cut off.”

  “But—”

  “No. Get the fuck out of here and sober up.” Hades lifted him by his tiny wings, and booted Cupid out of the door. Then Hades turned to me.

  “Sorry, Jace. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

  “Do you think he was telling the truth? That Lilit
h was pregnant?” I shuddered at the thought. Had I destroyed two lives tonight? Lilith and her unborn child?

  Hades pressed another shot into my hand. “It doesn’t matter now. Either way. You have to focus on protecting little J.C., and finding that spiteful bitch, Mary, before she hurts anyone else.”

  I nodded. “You’re right. It’s time I got my priorities in order.”

  “That’s my boy.” Hades slapped me on the back.

  “Hades?”

  “Yeah Jace?”

  “I think I’m going to puke.” And that’s what I did. Bright Technicolor streams of vomit burst from my mouth splattering everything in its path.

  The angel ducked, but not soon enough. Bits of my stomach lining, bile, and beer dripped from his hair and down his robe.

  The kid, not a spot of vomit on him, smiled and laughed. “Mine. Mine. Mine.”

  I gave him a small wave, and dropped face first onto the floor.

  Forty

  The angel screamed and slammed on the breaks just in time, or so he swore, even though the bus he’d swerved to avoid was about a mile ahead.

  Like GPS, God had not installed the ability to drive in his angels, which made for one hell of a ride home to Lilith’s apartment.

  I rubbed my dashboard-dented head and glanced into the backseat to check on the kid. He poked his head from the makeshift car seat, and smiled at me, looking ridiculous in a taped up UPS box and bubble wrap. But knowing the angel didn’t know how to and that I wasn’t in any condition to drive, we’d made do. There was enough duct tape and bubble wrap around him to ship ten crates of ‘Jesus is my co-pilot’ statues.

  “Watch it,” I yelled to the angel as he flew past a motorcycle cop, inches from the cop’s tire. A blaze of red and blue lights exploded behind us.

  The angel started to pull over.

  “What the fuck are you doing? Go. Go.” I slammed my foot on the gas pedal, and the Gremlin redlined and raced up the street. The angel screeched and closed his eyes.

  “Open your eyes and drive, damn it.” I wrenched the wheel, sending us spinning into the right lane, and out of the path of oncoming traffic.

  “Pull over,” the cop’s voice boomed from a speaker behind us.

  “We must do as he asks.” Blindly, the angel pressed the brake pedal.

  I kicked him, and smashed my foot on the gas again. “No fucking way. I’ll go to jail, the kid will go to foster care, and you’ll go to the pound.”

  “I am not a bird!”

  “Tell it to the judge.” I steered us around the corner of Canal, and whipped up Broadway. Traffic was light for this time of night, and the chase reached speeds of thirty miles an hour. Fucking Gremlin. There was no way we’d lose the cop without help.

  The kid bounced in his box. “Mine. Mine. Mine.” Funny how I used to think that was cute, now I couldn’t wait until he learned a new word.

  Maybe I’d teach him a dirty one.

  “Mine. Mine.” His chanting rang through the car, growing louder and louder.

  “Shah. Mine’s trying to think,” I told him.

  His lower lip quivered, and he burst into a full fit of tears. Big, fat, wet tears.

  With a crack of thunder, the sky opened and a downpour of rain mixed with hamsters erupted from the clouds as snotty tears ran down the kid’s face.

  Son-of-a-bitch. No offense to the Virgin Mary intended. The motorcycle cop swerved a few times to avoid the barrage, and finally lost control. The cop’s bike tipped over, and he skidded across the slick concrete stopping a few feet from the curb. I watched as he stood, brushed his uniform off, and limped away.

  Patting the kid's leg, I flicked on the Gremlin’s windshield wipers with my other hand to scrape off splattered hamster pieces and salty raindrops.

  ~ * ~

  I picked the lock on Lilith’s apartment door, and ushered the angel and kid inside. The room looked empty and dull without Lilith. The bright white faded into a dingy gray.

  “Yowl.” Bodhi curled around my legs.

  I bent over and stroked his sleek fur. He returned the favor with a claw to my index finger and an annoyed hiss. Fucking demon cat.

  “Mine’s?” The kid pointed to the cat.

  “Have at it.” I lifted the kid from the angel’s arms, and sat him next to the spawn of Satan cat. Served the cat right.

  The kid jabbed a finger into the cat’s mouth, and squeezed his bushy white tail. “Yoooowwwell!” The cat’s hackles rose, as the kid stuffed Bodhi’s tail into his drooly mouth.

  I left the cat to the kid’s torture, and headed to the bathroom. Sober now, exhaustion had taken over. I wanted to clean up and crash for the next ten hours.

  My clothes reeked of blood, dried brains, vomit, and hell fire. I stripped, cranked the faucet to hot, and stood under the burning water until it ran cold. I willed my mind to go blank, to forget the look of evil on Mary’s face, and the scent of Lilith’s blood.

  Picking up a bottle of Lilith’s shampoo, I inhaled the aroma, a blend of coconut and cherries. It was so surprisingly girly, I smiled. There was so much about Lilith that would forever remain a mystery to me.

  Scrubbing at my skin, I washed away her blood. A green swirl circled the drain, disappearing forever. How had I let this happen?

  I shut the water off and climbed from the tub, standing naked in the fogged mirror. I wiped my hand across the shiny surface.

  Like a ghost, Lilith’s image floated in front of me, her eyes dancing, face full of life. I touched my fingers to the glass wanting to feel her skin one more time.

  The angel opened the door, and Lilith vanished into the mist.

  “Fuck.” I smashed my fist against the mirror, shattering it. Bits of glass stabbed my hand, slicing it open, but I was beyond feeling physical pain.

  “Here.” The angel handed me a fresh pair of jeans and an equally clean t-shirt, two sizes too big.

  “Thanks.” I pulled on the jeans, and walked barefoot to Lilith’s perfectly made bed. The white linen called to my tired body, sapping the last of my energy. I lay down, my fingers brushing Lilith’s pillow. It smelled of her. I closed my eyes and tried to relax.

  “Nemamiah?”

  The angel’s fetid breath hit me, and I opened an eye. “What?”

  “Your wetness is making the ink run.” He smiled at me, his head tilted to one side.

  “What ink?” I half-sat, and searched the bed for ink stains.

  The angel pointed to my pillow. Sure enough, a wet white envelop lay against the ink-tainted pillowcase. Across the front of the letter was my name in solid, block script.

  I swallowed and ripped it open. Three folded sheets of paper fell onto the bed. My eyes scanned the pages, smiling at Lilith’s handwriting. No 'i's dotted with tiny hearts, or girly scrawls for her.

  My smile changed into a frown as I read her final words: protect J.C., kill Mary, and feed my cat.

  Fuck.

  I glanced at the kitchen floor, and the half-filled dish of cat food. The kid glared across the dish at the cat in a kat-chow standoff. Bodhi growled, and the kid growled back. The kid touched his finger to the tip of Bodhi’s nose. “Mine.”

  Bodhi dropped dead, his whiskers twitching once before he headed for the bright white light.

  “No. Bad.” I wagged my finger at the kid.

  His bottom lip sucked under his top, and he appeared ready to cry.

  I shook my head no.

  His eyes filled with tears.

  “I’m going to count to three.” Then what, I asked myself? How do you punish Jesus? Send him to bed with out a last supper?

  “Mine.” He stuck his head stubbornly into the air.

  Like father like son. “One… two...”

  The kid tapped Bodhi’s nose, and the cat shot to its feet with a terrified meow. The kid smiled, grabbed the cat, and squished it to his sticky chest. The cat let out a smothered cry, but didn’t fight the kid’s affections.

  Lilith’s order to feed her cat presented a
slight problem. But I’d sure as hell protect the kid, and kill that deceitful bitch, Mary. For once, I’d do things the right way. For Lilith. For the kid. And for myself.

  Forty One

  I climbed the last stair, a heaviness pulling at my chest, a thirty-two pound heaviness with drool-coated hands and kat-chow breath. I glared down at the kid, who smiled up at me from the baby-sling. I felt like a fucking kangaroo, but the chick at the Babies R Us swore it was the latest in fashionable baby-wear.

  “This is a stupid idea.” I tugged at the straps trying to find a comfortable position.

  “Mine.”

  Apparently, the kid agreed, but we’d have to make do.

  When I had awoke this morning, the kid lay curled on the bed next to me, and the angel had been nowhere in sight. When he failed to return after an hour, I hoisted the kid into the babypack and headed out the door.

  So here we were. The scene of the crime. I crept down the hallway, keeping my nine-millimeter at my side. My mind scrambled to come up with a better plan. One that didn’t involve dying. Nothing came to mind, so I went with plan A.

  I kicked the door of apartment 405. Mary’s apartment. The door flew open, of course following Newton’s Third Law, it bounced off the wall and slammed closed. But not before it smacked me in the nose, and knocked me to the floor.

  Fuck.

  Careful not to squish the kid, I rolled around until the pain faded to a dull throb.

  “Mine?” The kid stabbed me in the eye.

  I wiped away the blood from my nose, and plucked the kid’s finger from my eye socket. “Mine is okay.” Stumbling to my feet, I readied my weapon and my boot for another kick. This time I forced the door open, and shoved my foot inside before it banged closed.

  Score one for me. Okay, maybe half a point.

  I entered the apartment, scanning it for signs of life. Not that I expected any. Mary wasn’t dumb enough to stick around after what she’d done.

  The room was empty. No pink furniture or knickknacks. No smoking gun or matchbook with a hotel’s name. No giant map with X marking the spot. Nothing. I sniffed the air. Well, maybe one thing. Dead fish.