by Debora Geary
The li’l devil arched an eyebrow. Steam puffed out of his nostrils. He shifted and I flinched.
He laughed. Fanged teeth dripped sulfuric saliva. A merry twinkle lit his eyes. “You’ll get along just fine here.”
Then his tail coiled around my leg, swooped me up, and tossed me through the privacy curtain. Dozens of grubby li’l hands oiled me, perfumed me (why?), and dressed me in fuzzy pajamas with feet and a hoodie. They buckled on boots, lit a match, and gave me a swift kick out some blackout curtains. When I emerged, I was speeding down the slope, trailing flames from my backside, and wondering what in hell was bouncing on my head and sloshing against my chest. I glanced down to see what gag-gift supplement they’d anchored me with and found…
“AHHHHHHHHHHHH-HHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-HHHHHHHHHHHHH-HHHHHHHHHHH!”
Pfft.
Randi Rogue is an award-winning writer expecting the release of her first urban fantasy novel in fall 2011. Discover more about her writings as well as her (hopefully) adorkable idiosyncrasies at www.randirogue.blogspot.com.
Pink Snowbunnies Acrostic
By Molly Black
Perhaps it’s true
In some other place
Not seen by us
Keeping its secrets
Sharing them with no one
Nights are bright
Over flame lit snow
Wild fires burning
But consuming nothing
Until the day
Never anticipated
New beings arise
Ice whipped
Eternally cold
Still seeking warmth
Searching for love
Knowing for some
It will never be
It will never grow
Not until
Heaven intercedes
Eternity ends
Letting life escape
Letting loose….
The pink snowbunnies of hell.
Molly Black does not exist. If she did, she might like chocolate and ice cream, or maybe not.
Don’t Mess with the Meadow
By Rex Jameson
Cassandra licked the pink fur on the back of her paw and groomed her face while she leaned against a smoldering pillar. Her mark hadn’t shown himself yet. She might have to flush him out.
She unzipped her tight, insulated black leather pants, pulled them down past her legs, and threw them into a pool of magma. A short, gangly demon walked past her, and his eyes grew wide as he turned around and gawked at her. He continued to stumble down the fiery corridor backward.
She smiled, licked her paw, and slowly stroked back her ears.
“You seen Suen around here, handsome?”
“N…no, ma’am,” he stammered. “He would probably be back that way.”
But she knew where Suen was. He was in the boss man’s room right in front of her. She had watched him go in.
“Oh, thank you, sugar,” Cassandra said as she removed her leather jacket and white shirt, exposing her soft white belly. She grinned at the low-ranking imp and was extra careful not to expose her pointed teeth. When chasing a bounty into the depths of hell, it’s wise to maintain as much surprise as possible. Best for him to think she was another lost soul from the Meadow.
She resumed watching the devil’s door to make sure she hadn’t missed her target. When she looked back over her shoulder, the small demon was gone.
Without her jacket and pants on, the heat was getting to her. Her downy layers misted over in glistening sweat, making her uncomfortable, but a soldier demon couldn’t resist killing something cute. This might be her last chance to catch him unaware.
The walls between the support columns of Satan’s chamber were paper thin, and openings appeared everywhere. If she could just get into the clearing in front of her, Cassandra had a feeling that Suen would be able to see her.
She poked herself in the eye to bring on some tears and then timidly hopped into the clearing. She sniffed around the grotto nervously, trying to look as vulnerable as possible, but no demons approached her.
Through the walls of the devil’s chamber, she could see shadows projected in the room. One of them was sitting in a chair behind a desk. He must have been the man downstairs. The other one waving his arms around exaggeratedly and pacing about must be Suen.
She let out a whimper and limped like her back paw was crippled.
Jackpot! His shadow darted toward the door.
“Wait, Suen,” Satan called from inside the office. “You can kill her later. Finish your briefing.”
“You’re not going to believe this…,” Suen said. “That’s the cutest, saddest thing I’ve ever seen. She must have injured herself falling from the Meadow.”
“Let someone else deal with her.”
“You know I can’t do that…”
She rolled onto her side and panted dramatically.
“One second,” Suen promised.
“Soldier demons…,” Satan said as he shook his head from the doorway, watching Suen approach her.
“There, there, little girl,” her mark said. He licked his lips. “Everything’s going to be okay…”
He drew a knife from his rawhide belt and approached ever closer. Twenty feet. Ten. Five.
As he reached down with his free hand to grab her by the scruff of her neck, she sprang her trap. Extending her three-inch fangs and snarling like a mighty lion, she knocked the blade aside and hurled herself at his exposed throat. Ripping and gnawing, tearing and biting, she mutilated his neck down to a bulging artery. With her incisors, she pulled the pulsing duct out of his skin and eviscerated it cleanly before pushing him slowly to the floor.
As the demon bled out on her freshly mussed coat, she held him down with a paw and read his judgment.
“Pursuant to judicial decree 385769, you are hereby terminated for crimes against the Meadow. The four kits died, by the way, you fucking bastard.”
“We know,” Satan said, chuckling as he leaned back against the doorframe. “They’re down the hall if you’d like to join them.”
“I have a contract to fulfill,” Cassandra said, “but don’t you worry, Lucy. Send another one of your fiends to the Meadow, and I’ll be back.”
“Some things are worth the risk,” he replied. “I look forward to your next visit.”
“Sure you do… and pink snowbunnies daydream about alpine skiing in hell…”
His red body and horns reflected back the fiery contents of the room, but his eyes were cold as ice.
She sank her teeth back into Suen’s neck and pulled him toward the burrow she had dug in a nearby wall. He struggled weakly as she used her back legs to stomp him through the opening and into the larger cave system. Up and up she pulled him, capable claws digging into the loose dirt and broken rock.
Digging twenty miles through partially molten limestone was never her idea of fun, but she would have punched her own grandmother in the face for a shot at this kind of money. And Cassandra loved her gram-gram. Killing such a worthless piece of crap right in front of the King of Hell, though? If she would have known that came with the contract, she would have done the job for free.
Rex Jameson releases his debut novel Lucifer’s Odyssey on September 1st, 2011. You can learn more about Rex and his upcoming books and short stories at http://therexfiles.blogspot.com.
A Gift for a Very Special Girl
By Debora Geary
Aervyn popped another fry into his mouth. “How ‘bout a fire truck as big as a bed, so she could sleep in it?”
A nephew after his own heart. Jamie grinned. “Nat says the baby’s going to sleep in our bed when she’s born, so we can keep her nice and warm.”
Aervyn shook his head. “Nuh, uh. She’s a fire witch. She’ll keep you nice and warm.”
All the more reason to keep the baby close at night. She wouldn’t be the first witchling infant to cause magical trouble while she slept. God knows his four-year-old sidekick had caused plenty of mischief as a
newborn.
Jamie swiped one of his nephew’s fries. “I remember when you were a baby and you kept teleporting your sisters into bed with you.”
Aervyn giggled and ported his remaining fries to an unknown location. “That’s cuz Mama was too heavy to move when I was a baby. I can do it now, but she says it’s bad manners to port someone unless they ask first, so I don’t get to do it very often.”
There were good reasons his sister Nell wasn’t fond of teleporting. Jamie ruffled Aervyn’s hair. “I think that’s because of some of the things that happened when we were little.” An accidental visit to Chinatown came to mind. Nell hadn’t been impressed that she’d taken the trip in her pink-bunny jammies, or that he hadn’t been able to reverse the spell and get them home.
Aervyn shrugged, materialized a fry, and popped it into his mouth. “So what about our mission? Mama says I’m a’posed to be a good helper, and make sure you don’t get dis-trac-ted. What does that mean?”
Jamie laughed. “It means she’s worried I’m going to take a detour to the computer store.”
After a moment of serious contemplation, Aervyn shook his head. “I don’t think a new baby needs a computer.”
Probably right. If there was any karma in the world, his daughter would be a coder like her daddy, but that might have to wait a few years.
“Let’s go to the store.” Aervyn jumped up. “I think you’re supposed to look at stuff when you shop, not just sit and think.”
The kiddo had a point. Jamie eyed the store across the street with trepidation. It was so… pink. And frilly. He looked down at his nephew and acknowledged that maybe he’d borrowed the wrong kid. Nine-year-old girls were probably better at this kind of stuff, but they got all gooey in baby stores.
On the other hand, Aervyn thought it was perfectly okay that Jamie still didn’t have a gift for the baby shower. The triplets would have skewered him.
They walked into the store and the saleslady immediately pounced. Aervyn was only too happy to answer her questions. “We need the bestest baby gift ever.”
“For a boy or girl?”
“Girl. But she might like boy stuff, too, cuz she’s gonna play with me a lot, and I mostly like boy stuff.”
Jamie was pretty sure the saleslady didn’t approve of girls and boys mixing like that. She looked up at him, perhaps hoping for moral support. “We have a lovely princess-themed ensemble, including exclusive extras like frilled diaper covers and a baby tiara. The perfect gift for a very special girl.”
Pink snowbunnies would ski in hell, first. “Anything in the non-princess vein?”
Aervyn beelined for the back corner of the store. The saleslady sniffed. “That’s our boy-themed gift selection.”
Jamie looked around at the choices. Not themed around any boys he knew. He reached out and flipped over the tag on a vaguely Art Deco bug thing that said music player. Music was good for babies. Holy crap. Five hundred dollars? He looked at the saleslady in disbelief. “Does it do something besides play music?”
Hell was definitely well on its way to freezing. “It creates an ambience. Infants appreciate a calm, well-decorated space. You can’t put a price tag on your baby’s happiness.”
Nope, but he could definitely put a price tag on his sanity. He paged his sidekick. Dude—let’s head out. I’ve got an idea.
Aervyn thought the fire-engine-red iPod was a really awesome gift, especially when he got a matching one. Jamie figured if anyone protested too loudly, he’d send them to meet his new favorite saleslady, and see what they bought in self-defense.
Debora Geary is the author of the top-rated A Modern Witch series. Learn more and sign up for her new releases list at www.deborageary.com.
