by C. Gockel
Gregory flicked a hand at the flaming kitchen and the fire died. Instantly. There wasn’t even a smoldering coal left. I was willing to bet if I put my hand on the charred island it would be cool. I could do that, but I wouldn’t have thought to be so thorough about it. Slowly, he turned and looked at the wreckage of the house.
“Samuel Robinson won’t be pleased with the state of his dwelling, little cockroach,” he said reproachfully.
Common wisdom says that when you’re faced with a being that can kill you three times before breakfast, you should hold your tongue and not aggravate him. So I told him that his friend Goldilocks had done just as much damage as I had. Then I made matters worse by suggesting Robinson use Craig’s house since he wouldn’t be needing it any more. Candy and Wyatt looked appalled. Gregory frowned.
“It’s a much nicer house, he should be thrilled. Plus it’s got that amazing hex on it. You did a bang up job on that hex. Melted my hand up past the wrist. “ Yep, I’d lowered myself to shameless flattery. Next I’d be groveling before him and licking his boots. It didn’t do any good. The angel shook his head and actually turned his back on me.
“Unfortunately, the next area will be Waynesboro where there’s a sizable werewolf population,” he said to Candy and Wyatt. He was ignoring me. Because I was a cockroach. And not even a fully grown one. A baby cockroach with no skills or power whatsoever and not worthy of the slightest notice.
“It will be difficult to drive him into the direction I want with the short time window we have, so I will be using your help,” he continued.
He was clearly going to be some time telling Wyatt and Candy what they were going to do for him, so this cockroach decided to see what beer in the fridge was salvageable and if any magazines remained unburned. The beer was less cold that I preferred, but the broken fridge door had blocked the hottest part of the fire from the inside of the refrigerator. I pulled out fourteen of the coldest beers and found a dented roasting pan to carry them with. The magazines were burned beyond recognition, but before I mourned them I remembered that Wyatt had taken one into the bathroom with him. I walked into the living room, past the lecture in progress and down the hallway to retrieve the magazine. I hoped it was a good one. Again I passed by the others without notice, grabbed the roasting pan full of beer and headed out the backdoor with my stash.
I went all the way down the driveway and around to the spot where we had hidden our cars, then crammed my goodies in the miniscule Corvette trunk, snatching a beer for the road. I chuckled taking a swig of the beer. Evidently, all you needed to do to escape an angel was to get him blathering on about something and just walk right out the door. I wondered if I could make it to the gate near Columbia Mall before he finished talking. I took another swig of the beer, slamming the trunk shut and spinning around to get in and go and smacked my face right into a chest. A really big, hard chest wearing a polo shirt. I choked a little and beer came out my nose and onto the polo shirt. Gregory stood there patiently while I coughed, showering him with beer and snot.
“Shit. Could you not sneak up on a girl like that?” I sputtered, finally able to take a decent breath.
“I think I will need to keep you within my sight at all times, cockroach,” he said with a hint of irritation in his voice. “I haven’t postponed your execution just to have you run amok burning buildings and desecrating corpses. I have some tasks for you to accomplish before I kill you.”
Really motivating speech, I thought, as he took my arm and hauled me back to Robinson’s house. I nearly fell, twisting around to lock my car as he pulled me along.
Back in the charred kitchen, a lively discussion broke out about the driving arrangements needed to get back to the motel. Gregory wouldn’t let me go anywhere without him. I wasn’t driving him in my car, and I wasn’t letting Wyatt drive my Vette, so we could all go in Candy’s car together. With the driving logistics still unresolved, we began to argue over whether we should spend the night in the motel and head up to Waynesboro fresh, or head up now and hope they even had a motel in Waynesboro where we could shack up. Wyatt had very specific views on what routes we should take to get there. I announced that I had clothes in the washer still, and that I was hungry and wanted pizza. Wyatt offered to pick up pizza in my car, and I told him no. He was not driving my car. That was when Gregory made a frustrated noise, ripped my keys out of my hand and tossed them at Wyatt while grabbing me in a bear hug. Suddenly, we were in front of our motel door. Everything spun around me and I was grateful that Gregory still was holding me against him or I would have pitched right over the railing into the parking lot below.
I’d been through gates many times before. I wasn’t as talented as Charon, who actually hired himself out to those not skilled enough to find or cross gates on their own, but I could do it solo, and could even manage some of the wild and Elf gates. We didn’t make gates. Elves could create some limited ones, but all the big stable gates were created by the angels. Some wild, natural gates existed, but angels were really the masters of this skill. I’d never done any inter–realm gates. I didn’t think we even had any, back home. Plus, this was fast. Super fast and disorienting. It took me a while to feel steady, my vertigo probably made worse by my thinking this angel could crush me like a beer can and fling me over the railing before I could take a breath.
“Are you a Succubus?” Gregory asked, his deep voice rumbling at me through his chest. It was oddly soothing, that sound. I had a strange, tiny urge to do whatever he asked, but quickly shook it off. “You entrance men and women, cleaving them to you as slaves to satisfy your every desire? At first I thought you were just a young trickster imp, but you seem to have this skill.”
I snorted. Slaves to satisfy my every desire? Sounded like a great plan to me.
“Oh yeah. The worst Succubus in all of eternity, that’s me. I’ve been pursuing that male human for two years now — two years, and I’m not even to second base with him. If I were a Succubus, my sisters would have had me killed six centuries ago for ineptitude.”
Back home I knew several Succubi and Incubi. There weren’t a lot of them, thankfully, because they made quite a stir even among our kind. They didn’t have a great amount of power, but what they had was very specialized into sexual desire. Popping over here and enthralling humans was a favorite activity. With barely one foot across the gate they’d have a stream of humans of both genders lined up around the blocks to do whatever they wanted. Even back home they were popular choices for households. They had some influence over our own kind and made good negotiators. Good sexual partners too, although they couldn’t withstand some of the really crazy stuff.
How on earth could he possibly think I was a Succubus, though? Even my own kind weren’t overly interested in me. He’d surely encountered Succubi before. Was it possible that he was in some weird way attracted to me and was attributing it to an innate power or skill of mine? I clearly had no such skill, so any attraction he felt would be freely generated from himself. I chucked at the prospect that an angel might have the hots for me. Now that would be funny.
“What level are you then? How many legions do you command?” Gregory rumbled like thunder and velvet against me.
“That’s none of your business.” I told him, feeling slightly dismayed with myself for not giving him the answers he wanted. I wondered if he was some kind of angel Succubus. Attractive weird human form aside, he did stir something within me. All that power, and a sort of remote coldness. Like he’d been petrified, and the fire inside him was only a spark, buried deep and waiting to burst into renewal. I wondered if he’d ever been unfrozen. What would he be like with the fire breaking through? Intriguing thought, but no way was he getting my name.
American GIs might recite name, rank, and serial number upon capture, but no fucking way I was going to. Names had power, and the fewer of mine anyone knew the better. My level or current place in the hierarchy would allow him to better know my talents, power level, and possibly even discover one or mo
re of my names. Nope.
Besides, I was beginning to think he knew as little about us as we did about them. He was old enough to have fought in the wars, but so much had changed since then. We no longer had legions. No sense in having a standing army when you haven’t had a war in over two million years. Plus, we don’t have the temperament for that amount of organization. Need had overcome our inclinations during the war, and we’d also had an Iblis, one of us powerful enough to lead and keep a large organizational structure from breaking down. The Iblis kept us operating as a whole toward one goal. That was a remarkable thing for our kind. We hadn’t had an Iblis for a very long time. Even the oldest among us didn’t have that level of influence. Or really care to.
Gregory sighed and released his hold on me. “Fine,” he said, making it clear that we’d revisit this topic again in the future. “Go ahead and open the door then.”
I looked at him blankly. “You took my keys and gave them to Wyatt.”
He rolled his eyes. “Are you that much of a cockroach? Do you need keys to open a door?”
Oh. Yeah, that’s right. Well I had been acting as a human for forty years after all. I reached over and snaked in the energy to click the lock.
We went in, and I began to gather together our belongings, careful to separate Candy’s toiletries as she would have wanted. I didn’t need two of my traveling party gunning for me. Gregory looked around for a bit, reading the laminated rate sheet and examining the chained remote with bewilderment.
“Why is this plastic rectangle chained to the television set? Is the zinc plated chain somehow integral to its operation?”
“It’s a remote control for operating the TV and it uses low level infrared signals.” I glanced at the remote while stuffing socks into a plastic bag. “The chain is to deter theft.”
Gregory frowned and snapped the chain off the remote, breaking a chunk of the plastic off the end with the ring. “How does this deter theft? Any human with a pocket knife could break this.”
I shrugged, agreeing with him and resolving to steal the remote just to annoy the management. Candy would probably get charged for it on her credit card, but she was likely to anyway since the angel had broken part of it off.
“If you think that’s perplexing, look at this.” I stuck a quarter in the bed and sent it to vibrating. Sure enough, the angel looked astounded.
“It’s supposed to enhance a sexual experience,” I told him.
“Does it actually work?” he asked in amazement, watching the bags bounce their way across the bedspread.
I shrugged. “Not that I can tell. It is a lot of fun though, and it totally freaks Candy out. Maybe if you were in the act of penetration it might enhance the orgasm. I haven’t had sexual intercourse on the bed, so I can’t really speak from experience.”
Gregory shook his head in disbelief at the bed, and then walked around to see if there were any other unexpected human gadgets to examine. I sat on the bed and let it bounce me around a bit so I felt like I actually got my quarter’s worth. It was a short ride.
Done perusing the room, Gregory watched me continue packing with his arms crossed in front of him. I felt like a prisoner. I guess I kind of was. After a few moments, he announced he was going down to check us out. “Stay here,” he said ominously.
As soon as he walked out the door, I shoved the remote in a bag and proceeded to dig through Wyatt’s things. There. The little toddler gun. I quickly stashed it in my rear waistband pulling the shirt over it. It was tiny, and it’s not like Gregory would strip search me or even suspect I’d be packing a human firearm.
I’d put all of our belongings into separate shopping bags when I remembered my laundry. The shirt was still damp in the washer, so I threw it in the dryer hoping a few moments on high heat would finish the job. My mind worked furiously. Screw Candy and this whole werewolf thing. I needed to get away from this angel as soon as possible or I’d be dead. Who knows how long he’d find me useful, and eventually this job would be over and he’d finish what he started at Robinson’s house. He was fast, he could gate all over the place in less than a second. I’d have to get away from him without using any energy so he couldn’t track me and then head to a gate he wouldn’t think to intercept me at. He couldn’t guard them all. The one at Columbia Mall might be too far, and I was really scared to use that wild gate in Sharpsburg, although it was the absolute closest. Wild gates could rip you apart, and sometimes they had buffer zones where a traveler could get lost and trapped. Sometimes they spit you out somewhere unexpected. Like across the universe unexpected. Not that I knew this from experience. Obviously.
Forty years I’d been here undetected. I was used to living as a human. I’d watch for a chance to get away, then go underground and head for the gate in Philly or maybe the one near Wichita. I mulled my options wondering if he ever slept when I felt myself grabbed by the shoulder and flung against the cement wall of the motel. I hit hard on my left shoulder. Ow.
“What the fuck is your problem?” I snarled, fixing the dislocated shoulder. Gregory loomed over me with menace. What the hell did I do now? Was it against some angel law to dry your clothes?
“I told you to stay in the room,” he hissed at me.
“No,” I argued, because that is clearly the thing to do when faced with an enraged angel. “You told me to stay here. I am here. At the motel. Drying my shirt so we can leave.” Idiot.
He was hovering over me and breathing heavy, like he’d run around the building a few times, although I think it was more trying to control himself and keep from killing me. I helped him by continuing to sit on the dirty floor looking up at him. I really wanted to get up and punch him, but my minimal self preservation had finally kicked in.
Grabbing at my arm with the fixed shoulder, he hauled me to my feet and held me a few inches off the ground. “I won’t lose you,” he muttered half to himself. “You will not slip through my grasp. You will not escape me.”
I could see him struggle to gain control when, almost as if with a will of its own, he hissed, “Mine.”
It was quiet, but the word pulsed with power. Certain words are more than just words. Certain words can carry the strength of all creation. This was one. I used it when I Owned a being, I used it when I claimed territory, when I created a household bond. I had never used it with such power behind it, though. I felt it slam into me and wondered what he’d meant. In what way had he claimed me?
He managed to finally get control of himself and took a big breath. “I really don’t want to have to bind you to me. It would hurt a lot and be very unpleasant.”
I appreciated his concern for my comfort.
“No,” he said, seemingly reading my thoughts. “It would hurt me a lot, and be very unpleasant for me. Pain to you would only bring me great joy.”
Well, then. “Look, this was all a misunderstanding. See? I’m right here, drying my clothes. I didn’t run away. I didn’t try to escape your clutches. If you let me go, I’ll just pull the shirt out of the dryer and we’ll be on our way. Candy and Wyatt should be here any moment and we can head out. You’re really scary, and I’m going to do whatever you say.” Okay, maybe the last bit was over the top, but I really wanted him to relax and give me enough slack on the leash to slip my collar and bolt.
He looked suspicious, but he did let go of my arm. I grabbed the shirt, and with an angel trailing behind me I went to the hotel room and gathered our things. We went down to the lobby to wait for Candy and Wyatt. What was taking them so long? Did they stop for pizza? Did Wyatt take off on a joy ride with my car? I fretted over the safety of my car. Wyatt might be my best friend, but I’d kill him if he dented my precious car.
We remained in the lobby, air thick with tension, surrounded by the shopping bags. Gregory sat in the little plastic chair placidly ignoring the young girl at the front desk. Probably the owner’s daughter, I thought watching her stare enraptured at the angel. I could have stripped naked and done a pole dance with the gumball machin
e and she wouldn’t have broken her gaze. Maybe if she jumped him in an adoring frenzy I’d be able to make a quick getaway.
Candy and Wyatt pulled up and I inspected my car thoroughly for damage. Wyatt looked me over for damage, too.
“Are you okay, Sam?” he whispered. “What can I do to help? You’ve got to get away from him.”
No shit, Sherlock. I had no idea what he could do to help, but I was formulating a plan.
“Just hang tight with Candy,” I told him. “Don’t antagonize him. I don’t want him to kill you.”
I was treated to the joy of watching Gregory cram himself into my passenger seat. Corvettes may be sports cars, but they are American sports cars, made for big oversized Americans. Still Gregory took up more than his allocated share of space. I’m assuming he had to buy two seats when he flew commercial. I took the lead and we headed out of town with Gregory silent and brooding beside me. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him staring at me with hostility. Was he still pissed about the dryer episode? Or just pissed in general about my existence?
Gregory’s leg was encroaching on the stick shift and I kept grabbing it instead of the shifting lever. It happened a lot, and I swear I was not doing it on purpose. It was like grabbing a block of cement. Still, I couldn’t help but be a bit turned on.
I wondered if I could snake my hand up further and get in a quick grope before he removed my arm from my body. I wondered what angel genitals felt like. Did they even have genitals? Maybe they were anatomically like Ken dolls. I hadn’t noticed any bulges, even while I was pressed against him through the gate, but I didn’t think I was his idea of a potential sexual partner. The thought of sex with me probably left him cold and flaccid. Actually, the thought of sex with me probably hadn’t even crossed his mind. Angels probably did it in some ethereal way that didn’t involve genitals. Some kind of sterile, esoteric sexual experience. I imagine it was horribly boring. Maybe I could convince him to do it the human way. Or the demon way. I fantasized for a moment about a threesome with the angel and Wyatt. Like that would ever happen. This was not a good train of thought for me to be having.
