King JuJu’s face became the very symbol of fear. His eyes went wide as the skin on his face began to ripple and stretch. His mouth opened. His nose began to widen, disfiguring. His face was slowly ripping apart from the middle. From within the rip, another face slowly emerged, a face that looked more gruesome than any other. Mangled, sharp teeth, yellow and blood-red eyes, burnt crimson skin, pointed ears, and slick black hair. Then came the horns, so large that they reached out and touched Maven’s forehead. He did his best not to flinch, not to show fear.
Gazrog rarely appeared in front of Maven, but here he was, in all his gruesomeness, in a church confessional. Had he been posing as King JuJu the whole time? If so, why?
“Fuck my demon fucking blood,” Maven said to himself, nervous at last.
As King JuJu’s face and head withered away completely, Gazrog’s evil voice was released.
“You know the deal, Maven. Kill that fucking whore of a succubus. Take the time I’ve given you. We’ll be watching with great interest. I’m here to help, of course. And since Aubrey reported that you were cordial in your agreement, I would like to give you additional assistance. A secret door, covered by a painted cross, will lead you down the stairs to the secret vault. I’ll be watching…we’ll all be watching, Maven.”
Gazrog’s massive sharpened horns extended even further, biting slightly into Maven’s skin, shedding a little blood. Not wanting to show weakness, Maven held his ground.
“Now, you can go fuck that little whore Spanish nun waiting for you in the church...she’s already wet. Tell me how my sloppy seconds feel.” Gazrog laughed without holding back, a demon laugh that was loud and growling at the same time. He cut the sound short. “I’ll be watching.”
He was gone.
Maven sat in the confessional for a moment, thinking about what had just occurred. He wondered again about this “King JuJu.”
My mother?
He thought of Gazrog and his minions watching his every move. Suddenly, he realized...
He was fucked.
Maven laughed again at his own situation, and collected himself before opening the confessional door to exit. A small droplet of blood reminded Maven that he hadn’t quite completely collected himself, and he nonchalantly wiped the trickle from his forehead.
He became agitated at his predicament. His eye pulsed, flushed with blood. His skin turned hot. Just before he was about to leave, Maven looked back at the confessional seat and saw a small bone-looking thing attached to an old, maybe ancient chain. He realized it was one of the necklaces King JuJu had been wearing, and pocketed it.
His attention turned to Sister Esperanza, who was indeed the nun that had been sitting near the front of the church. "What the fuck is she doing here?," Maven questioned under his breath.
Those pouty lips, that beautifully round ass...Maven’s incubus instinct’s were suddenly primed. He wanted to fuck her right on the altar, while she wore nothing but thigh-highs…and heels, of course. Maven started to get excited. His thoughts raced, but miraculously, a thought about King JuJu’s words brought him back, and his resolved and detective mind took over.
Maybe later. Maybe later.
The sexy nun could wait. Maven had a vampire to deal with. And a very old vampire at that, which meant a possible confrontation of sorts.
He made a quick exit out of the church, but as he was walking to the exit, he could feel the disdain of the preacher’s eyes on him. Then was the warmth of Esperanza’s eyes, too. But something was off. Maven could feel it. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but the feeling was confirmed when a cool breeze met him at the exit.
That’s enough excitement, he thought, and made his way home.
Chapter 13
She was a master of disguise when she cared to try, and tonight she cared. She knew Maven was into this nun, Sister Esperanza, and if it took some deception to entice him, she’d give it a try.
Dionis was an investigator in her own right, and enjoyed nothing more than getting into Maven’s business, all of his business. She couldn’t wait to change into her true form while he was fucking her, but that’s not all she wanted.
The preacher was continuously stealing looks at the hot young nun that had arrived late to his little session. His salesmanship went on full-bore as he preached to his small group of ten or so mostly divorced women that were in their forties and fifties. He was eagerly selling a two-week retreat to Las Vegas to pray and fight the powers of sin. Dionis, smiling and entertained, could tell he already had the women in his pocket.
She sat in her pew, waiting for Maven to notice her, wondering what was taking so long. Turning to check on him, she saw that he was suddenly moving towards the confessional. Why? It was tough to say what had even brought him into the building in the first place, but now a confessional? What was he after?
All she knew was that he had been casing the place, had a brief interaction with Converse Billy, then strolled inside unceremoniously. How did any of this tie back to the Stanley case?
Moments later, Maven walked out of the confessional with a concerned look on his face, and some—was that blood? He had only been in there for a second, and he had already managed to get hurt.
He turned to look at who he thought was Sister Esperanza. Dionis quickly turned away, thinking twice about confronting Maven in either form. She waited to turn back, then watched him as he left.
Though she was concerned, Dionis decided it was time for some fun of her own as she continued to watch the preacher sell his $5,000 per person trip to Vegas. Every time he paused to look at her, Dionis sent waves of flirtation his way. She knew she had him. Preacher Carson Cash winked at Dionis after closing on yet another paid vacation to Vegas. The small group of women were mesmerized by his charm, good looks, and charisma. They stared, hanging on his every ridiculous word.
Dionis chuckled at the sight.
“Damn. Humans are dumb,” She said.
She winked at him, then slowly opened her low cut nun outfit, and showed him one side of her very see-through bra, revealing an erect nipple. She then rubbed her nipple slowly with her middle finger and stared at the entranced preacher. Dionis enjoyed the chase, the tease. Once she saw just a little bit of movement in his pants, Dionis covered herself, then moved her pouty lips to say, mouthing, “See you later.”
She left, knowing she would put this preacher to the test in his own dream. “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,” she said to herself with a smile.
Chapter 14
Ashley thought it was Maven making a return visit to take her again.
They thought it was shockingly easy to sneak all the way into her bedroom.
She suddenly saw that her visitor wasn’t Maven, screamed, and tried to make a run for it.
They grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, holding her down. Enter Nicky Smiles, glowering over Ashley as she helplessly struggled against his thugs.
“Well, looky here,” he said. “Someone is a little kinky.” He reached to the side of Ashley’s bed to find a collection of bondage toys, toys that the woman had no doubt hoped for Maven to use on her. That would not be the case.
The thugs gagged her and tied her wrists and ankles securely to the bedposts with sex tape. She continued to struggle, stretching the tape, but not enough to escape. The horrible events took an oddly clinical turn when one of the thugs pulled a dropper out of a small glass bottle. It had some kind of liquid in it. Ashley didn’t know what was in it, but didn’t want to find out. She thrashed about, avoiding the likely lethal dose until another thug grabbed her by her hair.
One drop.
Two.
Nicky smiled. The rat actually smiled as the defenseless woman’s body fell motionless. Not dead. Almost worse than dead. She was paralyzed. This wasn’t just a hit. They weren’t here to send a message, not a short one at least. This would be a long and awful message.
One of the sadistic fucks put his hand on her knees, spreading her legs. She couldn’t even fight as he unzip
ped his pants and pressed into her. All she could do was take it, and move her eyes, looking around at the faces of the other men, hoping to see some sympathy, some empathy. There was none. This was a pack of true, low life monsters.
Some of the others searched through her bounty of sex toys, laughing to each other as they dressed her up like a fucking Christmas tree. That was when Nicky got in her face.
“Your husband owes me money, lady. At first I thought about demanding that you repay the debt with threats and all that stuff.” He looked at his boys, laughing. “But why would I do that when I can just take it?” He drew closer to her now, grabbing her by the jaw. “You know your husband fucked a lot of whores and dancers at Charlie’s… who’s fucked now?” He looked around the room. “Although I guess it looks like you’ve been doing plenty of that on your own.”
One thug finished and another moved in. Would this ever end?
“You know your buddy Maven?” The new thug, round two, asked. Ashley’s eyes widened at the use of his name. “Of course you do. You can thank him for tonight’s visit. Nobody threatens Nicky Smiles and lives to tell about it.”
Another thug smacked the one that was inside of Ashley. ”Shut the fuck up, asshole. Nicky didn’t want his name mentioned. You fuckin moron.”
Ashley knew what this meant. They were going to kill her, but not yet. They took her dildos, forcing them in her, no, ramming them into her. Her clamped breasts swayed up and down as the force of the thrusts made her limp body shift. Nicky was the last one to rape Ashley Bellman that night, cumming right down her throat. Before, she could only stare blankly at the men. Now she couldn’t even breathe.
Satisfied and just having fun now, Nicky shoved a vibrator halfway inside of her and turned it on. Then he watched as one of his thugs used a different vial and poured several drops of a different colored liquid down Ashley's throat. After a minute, Ashley's eyes glazed over, staring right at Nicky. Ashley Belman was dead.
“Smile for Nicky, baby.” The sick and demented fuck snapped a few photos of the woman’s limp body, then took his leave, laughing.
Chapter 15
Maven stopped at the beginning of the old, narrow, cobblestone road. It was, of course, quiet and dark, but the lighting wasn’t the issue. It was the timing. The strip of homes and the uneven street looked fresh out of the 1600’s. Somewhere down that curious lane was Victor Von Stowvich, and hopefully some answers from a large-chested stripper.
Every window on every home was shuttered. Black iron gargoyles seemed to peer over the top of each building, looking menacing in the moonlight. As Maven’s feet moved from one cobblestone to the next, he couldn’t help but wonder if the entire neighborhood was merely an illusion, considering a vampire or two lived on this block.
Or maybe the illusion is what everyone else sees.
Nothing moved, except a black cat that darted its way to a mildly confrontational position right at the center of the road. Its yellow eyes locked onto Maven as it hissed, then continued its journey through the neighborhood.
“Interesting,” Maven said. “But I’m more of a dog guy myself.”
Realizing that the darkness and the possibility that he was on the fringes of visual reality made this the perfect time for an attack by Cassius Slay, Maven cast a quick glance over his shoulder. If the hunter decided to make a move—
I’ll be ready for him, Maven thought, keeping his hands close to his daggers.
Victor occupied the last house on the right, of course, and what a house it was. It was the largest home in sight, made entirely of brick, and hosting a few high-end upgrades, upgrades that only Maven had an eye for.
A camera watched Maven’s every move, likely ever since he set foot on street. The doors and windows were all rigged with traps, ready to shoot sharpened bolts into any unfortunate intruders that attempted entry.
“Vampires,” Maven mused. “So sensitive these days.”
He grabbed the large doorknocker, a thick brass piece that took the form of an upside down cross, and let it bang against its partner. There was no verbal answer, but the door, squeaky and slow, began to open by itself.
“Classic,” Maven said, entering a dark, candle-lit hallway. “Trick or treat.”
The inside of the home was beautifully adorned with all sorts of antiques and ornate woodwork. Deep red wood walls and floors kept the place dark. An old, royal carpet lay down the entire length of the hallway.
The wide-open room at the end of the hallway featured a large table dressed with fairly old place settings, though as far as the neighborhood was concerned, the things were basically futuristic.
“Classic vampire house,” Maven said, expecting an echo but hearing none. “Where’s the coffin?” He wondered if Converse Billy would make an appearance, but doubted it would happen. The kid probably didn’t enjoy sharing a room with fear itself. Victor was both powerful and old. Something about the marriage of those two qualities made for very dangerous vampires.
Dangerous to many, that is. Maven’s nature essentially defanged Victor and all of his mind tricks. The vampire’s power of hypnotic suggestion worked more like the power of polite request on demons. A confrontation was unlikely, anyway. Victor probably wouldn’t enjoy drinking demon blood anyway. It clots the system.
Threat or not, Maven respected Victor since the vampire had plenty of other powerful friends on a list that might happen to include the name Cassius Slay. This unknown state of allegiance was part of what kept Maven at a distance from Victor's house for so long. Tonight’s visit was a necessity, though.
As if in his mind instead of his ears, Maven heard the words, “Good evening, Maven.”
At the head of the table, Victor appeared, transitioning from invisible, to a misty substance, and finally to a solid body. A wine glass on Maven’s side of the table was suddenly full.
“Hospitality,” Maven said with an appreciative nod.
“Please sit, Maven. Please make yourself….comfortable.”
Do vampires always have to speak with suspicious pauses?
It was a question Maven would have asked out loud in any other circumstance, but again: respect. The room was suddenly cold. The candles began to flicker, seeming to bow down to their eminent owner. Victor spoke first.
“You’re looking for my wife, I hear.”
Maven took the opportunity to lighten the mood. “Well, your latest one, anyway.”
Victor squinted at Maven. He either didn’t get it or didn’t like it. Maven cleared the air with a brighter topic.
“Billy coming down to see me tonight?” He asked, nodding to the countless floors above that contained god knew how many horrors.
“No. William is occupied and will not be joining us this evening,” Victor answered. “Chores and responsibilities...you must know the burden.”
Maven smiled.
Again with the pauses.
“Shall we get down to your business at hand, Maven?” Victor asked with a flourish of his hand. “You’re here to speak with my wife, Cleopatra?”
Maven blended a look of surprise and confusion.
“I know her as Double D, Victor. And so do you. Where is she?”
“A tragic lack of manners,” Victor said. “If you presume to name my wife, perhaps you could tell yourself where she is.”
Maven sighed, suckered once again into the formalities of some other century.
“Just a confused demon sorting out his own thoughts. Might you know where I can find her?” He thought of adding, “…since you’re so incredibly wise,” but was unsure if the ancient man had brushed up on his sarcasm lately.
“She needed to feed tonight, Mr. Drake. You’ve already missed her. She’s at Charlie’s dancing for the respectable guests of the establishment.”
Maven lifted his eyebrow at Victor. Sarcasm, indeed.
“I only want information, Victor. She knows something about Stanley Belman, a rich asshole who got murdered. I was hired to find out about this piece of shit. No har
m will come to your Cleopatra, so no need to worry about that…unless she tries to bite me.”
“Ah, in which case?”
“Words, Victor. We would have words.”
“Of course. You are a true gentleman.”
“Right,” Maven said. “Speaking of gentlemen, have you had any luck finding the not-so-gentle guy that killed Billy’s mother?”
Victor shot Maven a stern look. ”In due time, Maven. In due time.”
Maven took a few steps back, towards the hall from whence he came. “See you around, Victor. Maybe I’ll join you on Billy’s case one of these days.”
“I would always welcome your talents.”
I’m sure you would, Maven thought. Since I doubt you’ve done any searching yourself.
“Great,” Maven said. “I look forward to working together.”
“I look forward to it as well, Maven. I’ll prepare for our more… intimate association.”
There he goes pausing again.
With those last words, the front door at the other end of the hallway slowly opened, issuing forth a cool breeze that flooded the hallway. Maven had never felt more cordially invited to depart in his life.
He turned and walked down the hall. His red eye pulsed slightly and he smiled, showing his demon teeth, which had unexpectedly extended.
Victor stared at Maven’s back with slight malice.
“And, Maven?” It seemed that Victor's voice was the only one that could echo through this unholy place. “Next time, manners without and manners within, please.”
Confused, Maven turned to look back down the hall.
Victor tapped the side of his head and said, “Sometimes I listen.”
The vampire disappeared in a puff of mist and Maven disappeared with the slam of a door.
Chapter 16
He waited. Even though he was across the street and three stories up from his prey, he remained totally silent. Cautiously peering down at the doors of Trinity Church, Cassius Slay drew his sword. It was ready for blood. Demon blood.
The Incubus Detective Page 6
