Once You Go Demon (Pure Souls)

by Killian McRae

  “So me, Chipper, and a bar full of booze, huh?” Dee stared at the keys with contempt, then looked to his sister’s pleading, begging expression. “Fine, yes. But I want to go on record here saying how much I despise you doing this. You’re too good for the lot of them. I hope you wake up soon, Steph, and realize that you will not, in fact, live forever. There’s no Heaven for you. This is all you get, and it’s precious. You’re precious. I hope you find someone who truly appreciates you, and treats you like the goddess you are.”

  Reducing his sister to tears had not been his intention, but as he saw that traitor rivulet glistening over her cheekbone, he hoped it was because she agreed with him. Dee extended his arm out and reached across the desk, turning his eyes on the target, the keys.

  “When do you have to leave? Steph?”

  Dee looked up to find nothing across from his desk except an empty chair.

  Chapter 30

  There would be a blizzard the day of her fake wedding, wouldn’t there?

  Riona’s insides felt as blown around and drifting as the snow outside her bedroom window. Her father was late. No, correction, her father was missing. He’d taken off yesterday morning, saying that he owed some time to his duties as an archangel now that he wasn’t cutting out on Heaven. The Pure Soul house had been without an angelic host since. No one had seen hide nor perfectly-coiffed hair of Ramiel since the night her father had come flying back into her life.

  A tap on her door drew her attention away from the snowpocolpyse.

  If she had known all it would take to strike Jerry dumb was putting on a wedding gown, she’d had done it ages ago. He muttered something she suspected to be his own native tongue as his mouth made a beeline for the floor. She only hoped it wasn’t something about wanting to remove said dress from her body with his teeth. She knew from experience he was more than capable of pulling it off.

  Riona smoothed her lace-gloved hands over the form-fitting bodice, inspecting the clearance rack find for snags. “It was the only one the department store had on sale in my size. Did you know wedding dresses are non-refundable? No way was I plopping down five thousand bucks for an explosion of silk and muslin, not even for Ditter.”

  He stumbled for words, flopping his jaw like a beached fish, before finally letting out his breath in a gush. “You look … heavenly.”

  He knew she wasn’t exactly still all prim and peppy about the result of her DNA test. “Not funny, Jer.”

  “I’m not trying to be funny,” he assured her as he came in through the door, wearing a not-too-shabby tux he’d managed to scrounge up from a second hand store. A day of hanging it in the crisp Boston air had successfully rid it of any remnants of eau d’ moth ball. “You are beautiful. Riona Dade, you have absolutely knocked my socks off. And you know how attached I am to my socks.”

  Everyone had a quirk, even a former demon. For Jerry, it was an obsession with socks, particularly loner socks.

  “Um, thanks.” She hunched a shoulder before jerking her head in his direction. “When are you going to, you know, throw on your old Jerry skin?”

  “At the Grotto. I did a test yesterday when I was out to make sure I could still do it. Yup, I can, but it takes a lot more energy and concentration to wield hellfire through a human body. So, bad news, babe: Keeping that glamour up might knock me off my ass. Not sure I’ll be able to consummate tonight.”

  They both laughed at the quip.

  Jerry continued, “It’s almost time to go. You ready?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Riona grasped the fabric of her dress, just long enough that she was going to trip on it without her heels on, and lifted the bottom from the floor. Her shoes were already downstairs by the front door. As she shoved her size eight feet in to the size seven-and-a-half—the shoe department’s clearance rack had been not as accommodating—she prayed that whomever Dee had found to stand in as a fake officiator wasn’t of the long-winded and rambling persuasion. After a few hours standing around in these things, her feet could probably be marketed as sausage. She started her way out the door, but Jerry caught her by the arm.

  “I want to tell you something before we go.” His eyes flickered up to meet hers.

  “Crazy tales from the bachelor party?”

  “Yeah, the Cheez Whiz and crackers were sinful. But, all kidding and smart assing aside, I want to say, I wish this was real.”

  “Jerry …” she sing-songed.

  “No, I’m serious. I wish you were getting the man of your dreams. I wish he was standing here, getting to see you look like you do, knowing how lucky he is to have you in his life. I wish he was going to stand in front of a group of witnesses and declare how much he loves you and declare himself yours, and you his. I wish he was whisking you away tonight to some lonely cottage on a tropical island where he would show you in mind-numbing passion everything he had proclaimed in words. I wish he’d help you fight all your demons, to build your dreams together, to cherish and love you as you deserve and need to be loved. And to protect you, always protect you. I wish you had a normal life, had a heap load of kids, if that’s what you want, or a puppy named Clover if you don’t. But most of all …” Jerry paused and smacked his palate. “I wish I could be that man.”

  “Jerry, I—”

  His index finger pressed to her lips, stopping her words. “It’s okay. I know I’m not. I know I can’t be him. But I want you to have what I can give you: all my best wishes. You got shafted, Riona. Majorly shafted. You should have ended up with Marc. They say everything happens for a reason, but nobody ever mentions that reason is because Big Boss can sometimes be a righteous prick. I want you to know, though, that man I wish for you? He’s out there. And someday he’s going to come and make you whole again. And on that day he takes you as his bride, I know he’s going to feel for you every ounce of the love I feel right now. I promise.”

  He released his hold. Riona could still feel the warmth of his hand around her wrist. Without another thought, she turned to him and pressed her lips against his cheek.

  “You too, Jerry,” she said into his ears as one of his arms hooked around her. “I wish the same exact thing for you.” Her laugh rumbled against his chest. “Except, you know, a girl instead.”

  He laughed along with her. “Yeah, I think I’d prefer a chick, too.”

  Dee had cleared the front stoop before he’d taken off. In the intervening time, however, the steady fall of flakes had left at least and inch and a half accumulated on the stairs. True, she’d never wear these shoes again, but even still, Riona hated the thought of them being salt and water stained. But since she hadn’t yet figured out if her half-angel breeding meant she could fly, she stepped outside and …

  Found herself airborne.

  “Jerry! Put me down.”

  He grinned down at her in his arms. “Shut up and be a girl for a few minutes. It may only be a fake wedding, but there’s no reason I can’t spoil you for real.”

  What she was expecting was to be placed in the back of a cab. The only car between Jerry, Dee and her was Dee’s, and he had taken that to Salem to fetch Molly. What she was stuffed into, however, was anything but expected. Outside, she heard a whinny, and then an adagio cadence of hooves on snow-crushed blacktop.

  “A horse-drawn carriage?” Riona gasped when Jerry had gotten in and closed the door. “Jerry, how could you afford something like this? And such short notice!”

  “Oh, I couldn’t. This isn’t my doing,” he answered as he settled into the seat beside her. “It was his.”

  Looking at the other bench across the way, Riona noted a shimmer in the air that blossomed into an arc of light. Out of the brilliance, her father’s image began to solidify. Though still looking as much as he had that last time she’d seen him, he had morphed his mortal physique slightly to more easily pass for a man of maturity. His dark locks tinged with gray and wrinkles around the corners of his eyes made it easy for him to pass for a man in his late fifties who still could charm any twenty-somet
hing out of her stockings with a few words.

  “Michael? You did this?” Riona wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.

  “I did,” he affirmed. “Consider it compensation. I can’t give you away, I regret. Since I know this wedding isn’t a true event, my participation in its ceremony would amount to a lie. But I wanted to make sure you arrived in style.”

  “But, where does an angel who’s been self-exiled for three decades find a coach and four horses with two days’ notice?”

  He winked at her from across the way. “Your old man still has a few friends. And I understand you’ll be leaving town this evening?”

  Michael had been given a quick primer on the events leading up to Riona’s current situation, and the eminent rebirth of a fallen Pure Soul who she was likely to be conflicted when facing down.

  “Yeah, but Jerry won’t tell me where.” Riona delivered a kid punch to his arm. “He’s taking this fake marriage thing really seriously, surprise honeymoon and all.”

  “I will expect you to treat my daughter honorably,” Michael warned, his piercing expression turning toward Jerry. “I may be bound by the Heaven-Hell Accords from getting involved in battle, but that doesn’t mean I can’t wreak biblical, epic torture on you if you take advantage of my child.”

  “You don’t need to worry, sire.” Jerry laced his fingers with Riona’s and pulled her hand to his lips. “I love your daughter madly, but she and I are only friends.”

  “Friends,” Riona repeated, feeling a curious heat rush into her cheeks and guitar string pluck in her insides.

  When the coach pulled up outside the Grotto, Riona’s stomach curled into a ball. The nightclub’s dungeon-motif wasn’t lit up for business, but one could still see the outlines of the skulls and chains from the ambient glow the street lights gave off. She hoped Ditter wasn’t too shocked by the venue. Or that Chipper had opened the bar and managed to get the Danish man a little tipsy.

  “Well, I’ll see you inside in a few minutes,” Jerry said as he stood to exit. “I have to find a dark corner and pull on my glamour. I’ll be the one at the end of the aisle, Riona. The one who looks like the best lover you ever had.”

  “I’ll be along,” Riona confirmed. When she was alone with her father, she rounded on him. “My mother is here.”

  “I know.”

  “Will she know who you are?”

  Michael shrugged dismissively. “Molly’s mind has been warped by many spells. She’ll likely recognize me, but be unable to place me. Like the shadow of a dream. You needn’t worry, I will not cause her distress. But, can I ask something?”

  “I guess.”

  Michael exhaled and shifted. “You know about the prophecy, the one declared when you became Keystone?”

  A chill ran over the surface of her skin. “Yeah, I do. Why?”

  “One arisen of Hell, Riona.” Michael pointed toward the door. “When Gaius was a Pure Soul, I was the council’s liaison. He was a good man then. If I had had a daughter back in those times, I would have been proud to wed her to such a man. A demon is a minion of evil; it’s not always within their power to disobey. Gaius did, and that takes an amazing amount of courage and power. I do not know your heart, Riona, but I knew Gaius. I know he would make a fine husband. He is one risen of Hell, Riona, by virtue of his feelings for you. I know this ceremony you’re about to go through isn’t real, but it could be real. If you want it to be.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You loved him once. You admit as much. A person is blessed to love another once, and you’ve been blessed twice. Do not throw away your heart on the slim chance it may happen with a third. You can truly wed him. If that desire is in your heart, that is. I leave it to you to decide, but take this from a … well, something like a man, who has been around and seen most everything there is to see. While even an angel does not always know the will or intent of the Creator, ask yourself: why would he have been brought back from the fires of Hell, one arisen of Hell, if not to be with you?”

  Chapter 31

  For an impromptu fake wedding held at a nightclub on Christmas Eve, the turnout wasn’t so bad.

  Jerry caught sight of Dee amongst the fifty or so spectators, only a few of whom he recognized, and motioned him up to Persephone’s office, where he was sequestered. When the demigod joined him, he closed the door behind them and led them over to the observation window, looking out over the dance floor below.

  “Where did all these people come from?” he asked.

  Dee surveyed the guests seated in a collection of white, rental folding chairs. “I figured if the crowd was too small, being that you guys have supposedly been planning this for over a year, Old Man Schmitz might get suspicious. Most of them are members of my club.”

  “And out of the goodness of their hearts they agreed to go to a pretend wedding on Christmas Eve?” Jerry asked.

  “I offered to give them the next six months of their memberships for free. But they don’t know it’s fake. I told them the bride and groom were socially awkward and didn’t have many friends. See? I didn’t even have to lie.”

  Jerry nodded and tried to hide his expression. Was he … Was that a … tear he felt on his cheek? Jesus H. Christ, what kind of girly man was he becoming? Crying because he was emotional …

  Dee must have noticed. A moment later, his way too firm grip was squeezing Jerry’s shoulder. “You okay there, Jerry?”

  “Yeah, I … Thank you, Dionysius. I know that will mean a lot to Riona. And it’s true; we don’t have a lot of friends, but that’s okay. We got you.”

  Dee withdrew his hand and gritted his teeth. “Damn it, Jerry. I’m determined as hell not to like you. Don’t give me a fucking excuse to start now.”

  “But he does sort of grow on you, doesn’t he?”

  The disembodied voice preceded the shimmering air as the angel materialized before them. It was the first time they’d seen Ramiel in over a week. Not so very long in practical terms, but the absence was all too present nonetheless. He was dressed in a suit not unlike the one he’d worn to the great reveal dinner before.

  “You came!” Jerry said before realizing he was moving to embrace the angel. He stopped midway, his arms held out in an odd zombie-like stance.

  Ramiel took in the image for a moment before subsiding. “Fine, what the hell,” he said as he gave Jerry a bro-appropriate shoulder-slap/hug combo. “What can I say? Other than occasionally being an annoying prick, you actually turned out okay.”

  “Ye of little faith,” Jerry quipped.

  Ramiel’s eyes searched the office. “Where’s Riona?”

  “Out in the corridor, waiting for the music to start,” Dee answered. “Michael is here, too. Sitting down in the third row, next to Molly.”

  Jerry had been worried when he’d seen the archangel approach his former paramour. If Molly Dade had any recollection of who Michael was, she gave no sign. She did, however, blush like a school girl.

  “And Persephone?” Ramiel asked.

  Both Jerry and Dee exchanged an unsure expression before Dee answered. “She’s gone. To sit on the mountain.”

  Jerry wasn’t sure if Dee was privy to the rendezvous the angel and his sister had been having for some time. Probably not. Even if he was, Jerry wasn’t about to be the one to give it away. Greek men were crazy about protecting their sisters, and the ones with nephilim blood took that practice to superhuman levels. The last thing Jerry wanted right now was to become Dee’s punching bag. If Ramiel didn’t wipe that look of utter destruction off his face in a blink, however, the angel’s jaw and Dee’s fist might become intimately acquainted.

  “That’s … Yeah, I guess it’s that time of the year.” Ramiel’s face brightened into a smile as his attention turned toward Jerry. “You don’t look so good.”

  Was it the sweaty forehead or the flushed cheeks that gave it away. “Thanks for the support,” Jerry said. “I’m just a tad bit wound up about this. I have to glamour myself to look like
I did when Ditter Schmitz met me last year.”

  “I know that’s hellfire magic, but I thought you could still do that.”

  “Oh, I can,” Jerry affirmed as his legs started to reflect the unease his expression held, carrying him pacing about the room. “That’s not what’s bothering me. The last time Riona saw me like that was moments before she vanquished me, and before that, when I was staring at her through a meat locker window after having sealed her inside. What if seeing me as, well, me again triggers bad memories? Makes her flip out? How much torture do I have to put this woman through?”

  Ramiel planted both his hands on Jerry’s shoulder and stopped him midstride. “Jerry Romani- Gaius Gallicus: Do you disavow yourself of your service to Lucifer and the Grigori and accept that the light is the only true and just path?”

  “What?” A knot moved down Jerry’s throat as he swallowed hard. “Um, yeah, I do. You know I do.”

  “Then, be,” Ramiel declared before pursing his lips and breathing out over Jerry’s face.

  At first, Jerry thought Ramiel was trying to spit at him in the eye. Then, he thought Ramiel was gutting him in two. Pain seared through his limbs, shots of red hot agony radiated through his abdomen, across the surface of his skin, and down his spine. He was sure he’d been electrocuted; he’d experienced it in Hell as one of Lucifer’s many preferred tortures. He felt the collar of his shirt stretch as muscles in his neck elongated, felt the waistline of his suit pants pull taut. As suddenly as it had washed over him, the torment ebbed, leaving him panting, dizzy, and more than a little confused.

  Dee glared in wonderment. “Holy shit.”

  “The council deemed it appropriate,” Ramiel said. “He’s had his trial period. He’s never called on hellfire but in the need to serve others. Sorry to say, Jer, but you won’t be able to do that anymore. All your bonds to Hell have been severed.”