Holidays are Hell Devil May Care

by Sam Cheever

  Aimee would think she’d lost her mind.

  Valentine opened the front door and slipped through, tripping over an enormous, heart-shaped box covered in gold foil. The box of chocolates was anchoring a colorful selection of balloons to the floor in front of their door.

  The largest balloon, a red heart bearing the proclamation, “Be my heart” reminded her of Don calling her my heart.

  She kicked the box to the side as she rolled her suitcase past and started down the hall. Her stomach growled and she stopped, biting her lip. Chances were good that those chocolates would just join a large pile of similar boxes in Aimee’s room, unwanted and destined eventually for the trash. Aimee wouldn’t mind if she took them. Valentine went back and grabbed the box of chocolates. As she’d suspected, the card on the front was addressed to Aimee. They were from a guy Aimee had dumped the previous week.

  Ripping the balloons from the box, Valentine started to let them float away. At the last second, she grabbed the string tied to the balloon that reminded her of Don and took it with her. At least she’d have some chocolates to keep her company when she went into hiding.

  An hour later, Valentine thought she’d driven far enough from the city and started looking for a cheap motel where she could hunker down and wait for Don to find her. Though she couldn’t imagine how he would. Ten minutes later a broken sign proclaimed that the Heartbreak Motel had a vacancy. Perfect. At forty-nine dollars a night, it was exactly the bargain she’d been hoping for.

  Valentine exited the highway and followed the signs to the unassuming but tidy motel a couple of miles off the highway. The long, low-slung building was concrete block painted a dull white that had yellowed with age, and the doors ranging along its front were bright fuchsia. Beside each door was an inexpensive clay flowerpot holding brightly colored plastic flowers.

  She pulled up in front of the glass door at the end that proclaimed the word “Off_ce” on its surface and parked. Up close, she realized the “i” in Office had apparently fallen off and someone had inked in a replacement “i” with a black marker.

  Classy.

  The man behind the counter just inside the door was reading Motor Magazine. He frowned as she entered, clearly not pleased to be interrupted. “Can I help you?”

  She placed her purse on the scarred, wooden counter and looked around. A constant drone filled the tiny office, probably coming from the refrigeration unit against the far wall, and the space smelled like dirty socks. Valentine resisted the urge to turn around and leave. Despite the run-down ambiance, it felt like the perfect spot to hide out. “I’d like a room, please.”

  “Name?”

  “Val --” Valentine clamped her mouth shut as he looked up from the keyboard and frowned at her.

  “I need your name.”

  “Aimee Blare.” She smiled, feeling a weight lifting off her shoulders as he simply typed the name into the computer without comment.

  “Address?”

  At least that wasn’t a lie. Valentine gave him the address of the two-bedroom apartment she shared with Aimee.

  “You need to pay the first night up front. Is that gonna be credit card or cash?”

  Valentine blinked, realizing too late that she couldn’t give him her credit card because her real name was on it. She reached for her purse, praying she had enough money with her. She thought she’d seen a bank a few miles down the highway. She could always go get more cash later. “Cash.”

  She paid him the forty-nine dollars, and he grabbed a key off the pegboard on the wall behind him, handing it to her. “Unit six is around back. You can drive around and park outside the unit.”

  Valentine thanked him and headed out the door. It turned out that unit six was at the far end of the building, bumping up against the woods that bordered the motel parking lot. The sun that had warmed the day despite the February temps was lost behind the trees that ran thick and deep behind the motel.

  Valentine shivered as she pulled her bag from the car and started to close the door. She was halfway to the room before she remembered the box of chocolates.

  She returned to her elderly VW Jetta and unlocked the door, reaching over the driver’s seat to grab the heart-shaped box. If she couldn’t get somebody to deliver food to her room, she planned to eat the chocolates for dinner. The last thing she wanted to do was go back out once she got settled.

  Valentine stopped in front of number six and stared at the door. Some jokester had added two more sixes to the room number. She hoped there was no significance to the addition.

  The room smelled even worse than the office. Despite the stench, Valentine hurried inside and closed the door, engaging all the locks. It was silly to think a few fragile locks would stop the monster she’d seen at Don’s place. But it was all she could do.

  Thinking of Don made her sad. What if he couldn’t fight off the angel thing? What if he was seriously hurt or worse? She would never know. He was all alone, and she was hiding out like a coward. Valentine started to pace the floor, nibbling on her fingertips. She had to go back and help him. She didn’t know what she could do, but she had to do something. She couldn’t just hunker down in this foul-smelling motel room while Don faced death.

  She was heading for the door when she realized she had no idea how to get back to him. He’d put her into some kind of portal to send her back. But there was no portal in her apartment, so whatever that thing had been, it was only accessible from one side. Don’s side.

  She turned around and resumed pacing, muttering to herself. “Think, Valentine. Think. There has to be a way.” But her mind swirled, unable to focus on a single idea that might help her find Don.

  She bumped against the bed, and something thumped to the floor. She turned to see what she’d knocked off and saw the box of chocolates. Her mouth watered. She realized she hadn’t eaten for hours. Her blood sugar was in the tank. No wonder she couldn’t think. A few chocolates might be just the thing to clear her mind.

  She picked up the box of chocolates and sat down on the edge of the bed, tearing off the ribbon and opening the box. She perused the lovely array of frosted and shaped candies, looking for the one that called to her the loudest. Finally she decided on a pretty, heart-shaped candy with delicate white squiggles painted across its surface. She glanced at the balloon hovering within reach as she popped the chocolate into her mouth.

  Be My Heart, it said. Don had called her my heart.

  Overcome with sudden emotion, Valentine took a shaky breath. She inadvertently sucked the chocolate into her throat where it lodged like a rock, cutting off her air. Her eyes widened. She tried to cough it out but it didn’t move. She stood up, her chest heaving with an unsuccessful effort to draw air. Valentine panicked. Hands flailing in the air, her fingers snagged on the ribbon of the balloon, pulling it down with her when she collapsed, writhing, onto the bed.

  * * *

  Bleeding and covered in dust, Don swung the metal pipe and met the angel’s sword thrust with a force that sent shockwaves up his arm, flooding his shoulder with pain. He spun away and slammed the pipe backward, connecting with a solid strike in the area where Abraxos’s kidneys would be if he had any. The angel danced away, seemingly unharmed by the strike, and thrust again, flashing sideways before Don could respond.

  The dance had been fast, furious, and frustrating for Don. He’d scored a couple of hits on the agitated angel, but Abraxos was all spun up with righteous indignation, and he was feeling no pain whatsoever. Don ducked another sword thrust and sidestepped, dealing a crushing blow to Abraxos’s head with the pipe.

  Abraxos staggered, and Don followed up with another blow to the angel’s throat. Abraxos’s energy faltered, blipping away for a moment to leave behind a gray-faced, bleeding man who fell to his knees in the rocky dirt.

  Don lifted the pipe, ready to finish him off with a few more blows to the head, but he never finished that swing. His flame tat flared so violently he dropped the pipe and doubled over with a cry. Flames shot f
rom his fingers and sizzled up his arm. Shit! The assembly had always had bad timing but this… He straightened and reached for the pipe again, only to have it kicked away from his reaching fingers.

  He looked up into Abraxos’s smug face. “Kiss the girl good-bye, demon.” Then the angel shifted sideways as he engaged a flying kick. Don put up a hand to block the kick but didn’t get there in time. Abraxos’s foot crashed into Don’s head, cutting off the world.

  Chapter Eight

  Fire sizzled up his arm, digging a hole in the black void overtaking him. Don climbed up from unconsciousness and forced his eyes to open. His tat was on fire, a five-alarm warning. He didn’t need the assembly to tell him that Valentine was in trouble. The twisting pain in his gut told him that. He shoved to his feet and ran toward the portal.

  Don landed in the center of Valentine’s apartment. He jerked around as his arrival was met by a blood-curdling scream. An attractive blonde woman was standing a few feet away from him, screaming her bloody fool head off. She was holding a butter knife straight out in front of her as if it were a sword, and grape jelly dripped onto the gray carpet at her feet.

  Don took a step toward the woman. “Where is she?”

  The screaming stopped when he spoke, and her eyes widened. “Who the hell are you and --” She looked around, eyes a little wild. “Where in hell did you come from?”

  Don had no time or patience for twenty questions. “Perdigo, mostly. Now where’s Valentine?”

  The woman gave a little gasp and brandished the sticky weapon. “You stay away from Val.”

  He strode forward, grasping the woman’s slim arms and shaking her. Jelly flipped around them, creating glossy globs on the pretty carpet. “She’s in danger. You need to tell me where she is right now.”

  “Sh-she’s not here.”

  “Shit!” Don dropped the woman’s arms and paced away, trying to think. His tat started to heat again for another warning. Worm! Don lunged back into the portal and stepped out in the assembly vault, running down the frustratingly long hallway as his arm started to flame again. He ignored it, too frantic to care.

  Worm sat on the tall stool behind his podium. The ugly little smokestack turned as Don ran toward him. “It’s about time. I’ve been calling y --”

  Don grabbed the front of the little man’s shirt, dragging him off his stool so that he dangled in midair. “Where is she?”

  Worm’s mouth opened but the cigarette stayed stuck to his bottom lip, glued there by some impossible force. It dangled limply as he scowled. “You’re too late --”

  “Where is she?” Don shook the assembly clerk so hard Worm’s wire rims flew off his round face, hitting the stone floor with a clatter. Still the fag stayed locked to his lip, smoke curling between them.

  “The Heartbreak Motel, Highway 31. But I told you, she’s already dead. And the angel just got there. You need to hurry!”

  Don dropped the little man and took off running, ignoring the rage-filled swearing that colored the air behind him. He leapt into the portal and landed outside room six of the dingy motel. The door to the motel room was standing open and Don could see Valentine’s slim form draped across one of the two double beds. His heart wrenched in his chest.

  He ran through the door, his senses keyed to angelic magic. The motel room was deadly silent. There was nobody there. But Abraxos had been there. Don could smell the angel’s energy beneath the stale, musty stench. Val’s soul was gone too. Abraxos had taken her.

  Don forced himself to look at her body. Pain slid a knife into his heart, making it hard to breathe.

  Valentine lay on her side on the bed, her slim form twisted in a parody of terrifying death. Chocolates surrounded her like a candy halo. The box that had once held the deadly chocolates lay empty and trampled on the floor beside the bed. Her eyes were wide with terror and no longer held the spark that had driven him into her arms. “My heart.” Don’s voice broke on the words, choked off by grief.

  A gentle breeze from the door lifted the hem of her soft T-shirt and spun the balloon she clutched in one hand. Reaching up to turn the heart-shaped balloon, he read the words on its surface and cried out, falling to his knees beside the bed.

  She was gone. Both living and dead. He’d never see her again.

  Grasping her soft, cool hand between both of his, Don threw back his head and roared with impotent rage.

  * * *

  Valentine stared at the light pulsing in the distance, her mind muzzy. The angel holding her hand smiled. “Almost there. You’re lucky I got there before the demon. He was going to drag you to Hell.”

  She blinked. “Demon?”

  “Abbadon.” The man’s smile drooped. Something hard and calculating slipped through his gaze. “Oh. He didn’t tell you he was a demon?”

  Val shook her head. “He’s an alien. And you’re…” She struggled to remember. Something felt wrong. Something was off. The man walking beside her toward the bright, pulsing light wasn’t what he seemed.

  “He lied to you, Valentine Smith. He’s a demon. He was sent to escort your soul to Hell when you died. Fortunately I got to you first.” When she continued to frown at him he patted her hand. “Don’t worry. I won’t let him get you. I promise.”

  The words struck a chord in her memory. Don’s painfully handsome face rose up to meet the memory, clarifying at least that part of it for her. She shook her head. “No. Don cares for me. He wouldn’t lie.”

  Memories started sliding back. Like water down a drain when a plug is pulled, they swirled through her consciousness. She jerked her hand away. “Don was protecting me from…” She took a step back. “We were running from you.”

  The angel tried to grab her hand again. “He took you to Hell -- did you know that? You’re very lucky I showed up in time to save you. He was going to kill you there and fast-track you to the fiery pits.”

  She shook her head, taking another step back. “No. Don wouldn’t…” But her mind suddenly flashed to that moment in the bathroom, before Abraxos had shown up, when Don had asked her about the chocolate. A chocolate that was very similar to the one that killed her. Had he placed the chocolate there for her to find?

  Abraxos grabbed her hand and dragged her forward. “Come. You will have everything you wish in Heaven. You’ll like it there. Angelic choirs sing constantly. There’s no violence, no hate, nothing to interfere with eternal happiness.”

  She frowned. “Sounds boring.”

  He tugged her forward until the light was suddenly very close. The nearer they came to the pulsing, white light the wider Abraxos’s smile grew.

  It wasn’t a nice smile.

  Valentine knew she should fight. She didn’t like the angel, and she was pretty sure she’d loved Don. But Don had tried to kill her. Hadn’t he? Frustration made her grind her teeth. She was so confused.

  A pain-filled roar exploded in her mind, and Valentine jerked to a halt, turning to look back the way they’d come. “Don?” In the distance the door to room six of the Heartbreak Motel wavered and blurred, beginning to fade away. Valentine sobbed. She was losing her last contact with life… losing Don. She couldn’t let him slip away.

  Suddenly she was running. The angel screamed her name, but Valentine wasn’t going to let Abraxos force her to go with him. She knew where she belonged. And at that moment the man she belonged with was in that motel room.

  The motel that was sliding away like foam on an ocean wave.

  “Don!” She ran faster. The sound of wings beating the air followed her, closing in as she struggled to run faster. “Don! Help me.”

  The motel and the ground around it shrank until it looked like a picture hanging in the sky. Valentine panicked, realizing that in seconds it would be completely gone. She screamed as a hard hand clamped down on her shoulder and swung her arm, catching the angel on an unnaturally soft chin. “Abbadon! Wait for me. I want to come with you!”

  Thunder exploded and Valentine jumped. The postcard-sized picture of the Heart
break Motel wavered like heat above a highway in the summertime and then, as lightning stabbed the air around her, disappeared.

  Valentine screamed, her knees hitting the ground as pain ripped a path from her belly to her chest. She sobbed out his name one last time and then collapsed onto the ground, curling herself into a pain-drenched ball.

  Abraxos stopped beside her, silent. He reached for her but she twitched away from his hand with a cry.

  A moment passed. And another. Thunder continued to beat the sky, its power pulsing against her skin as lightning danced in gleeful accompaniment. Still the angel stood unmoving. She could feel his gaze but didn’t care.

  Finally he spoke. “Valentine Smith, what is your desire?”

  She sobbed, hiccupping on the ground at his feet. Her world was broken. Don was lost to her. She no longer cared. She didn’t even have the energy to respond.

  “Valentine Smith, what is your desire?”

  Finally the angel’s words filtered through her grief. Realizing his question wasn’t a casual one, Valentine got to her feet and looked up at him. His handsome features were set in a mask of pity.

  “Valentine Smith, what is your --”

  She was ready for him. “To be with Don. Wherever he is.”

  Abraxos frowned slightly. “And if it’s in Hell?”

  She sniffed, sensing that things had changed. Maybe she did have some control over her fate after all. She straightened her spine. “Being without him would be hell. Love is hell too, but it’s also heaven. I’ll take my chances with Don, wherever and whatever he is.”

  The angel chewed on this for a while and then sighed. “Very well. I give you your wish. May you never live to regret it.”

  He turned away and the thunder rumbled one last time through the sky. And then the sound of birds and distant traffic replaced it.