A deep voice in the back said, “Dakkir.”
Deliverance had never been to Dakkir, that he recalled, so he had to pull the coordinates from the speaker. The angel agreed telepathically to allow Deliverance to see where to find Dakkir. He thanked the informant and left the way he came.
The Archie turned to the others. “Show’s over folks.” To the phim next to him, he said, “That angel has got some damn strange friends.” The phim nodded and took a swig of nectar-flavored ambrosia.
Sixt stood looking at the closed door for a full five minutes without moving. She fully expected the demon to throw a fit and refuse to take no for an answer. When no persistent ringing, banging, shouting, or breaking and entering followed, she turned to resume her plans for a hot lavender bath.
She started the water, threw her most expensive bath beads into the torrent falling from the Roman faucet, and pulled her hair into a ponytail on top of her head.
Deliverance had tracking instincts that were innate to his species. Once he knew the direction Kellareal had taken, he had no trouble locking on his energy.
The angel looked like a holdover from Miami Vice. He was wearing a white suit with open jacket, pale blue shirt unbuttoned, hair that brushed the middle of the shirt collar and aviators. He was standing at a poolside bar where a deejay was officiating with too loud music over a sea of skin with barely covered nipples and crotches.
When he came to stand next to Kellareal, the angel said, “I’m busy. I need that human,” he pointed at a young guy, “and that human”, he pointed at a young woman, “to get together.”
Deliverance scowled and made a huffing noise. “I appreciate that you have your games to play.” Kellareal diverted his attention to the demon, because a sentence uttered by Deliverance with the word ‘appreciate’ warranted face time. “I need to know what to do.”
Kellareal showed no emotion, but he was near shock. Admitting that he didn’t know everything was completely uncharacteristic for Deliverance, as was asking for help.
“You must be in deep shit.”
The demon scowled. “She hates me.”
After a brief pause, Kellareal laughed out loud. “Well, what did you expect? Really. You made it evident that you intended to torture her, possibly to death. Then you want to show up and say, ‘Just kidding’?!?”
“Well, I… What do you mean when you say ‘intended to’?”
“Your witch isn’t as fragile and vulnerable as you thought. She conjured an oasis palace fit for a Persian princess.”
Deliverance gaped as his visual speculation about her fate transformed from suffering to luxurious vacation. He took a minute to process that and then laughed. “I told her not to use her magic, that there would be dire consequences. I guess she didn’t believe me.” He smiled at Kellareal. “Good for her.”
“Guess I don’t have to tell you that it would have been better if you had shown up where you left her, groveled - a lot, and been the one to take her home.”
“I get that.”
“Maybe so, but you ‘get it’ too late. I tried to tell you.”
The demon slanted his eyes toward his rival. “I can’t turn back time.”
“No. There’s only one person alive who can do that.”
“Who?”
Kellareal realized that he’d said too much. “Need to know. Why are you here? To give me the chance to say I told you so? Glad to accommodate.”
“Funny. I’m here to find out if you have any ideas about how to fix things.”
“Fix things?” The angel laughed. “Highly unlikely.” Deliverance looked so dejected that Kellareal had to take pity on him. “First, you have to go see her. Find out where you stand. Exactly.”
“I did! She slammed the door in my face when I tried to give her Cassim’s purple roses.”
“You got Cassim’s roses?”
“Yeah.”
“How’d you manage that?”
“He owed me a favor.”
“Wow.” Kellareal had clearly gotten sidetracked.
“Back on point. You have any other suggestions?”
Kellareal mulled that over. “Well…”
“What?” Deliverance looked hopeful. And impatient. “What?”
“If you can get her to call your name, I could make a case to the Council that would justify pestering her. I mean, if it showed up on their radar.”
“Pestering?” Deliverance seemed to be thinking that over. “I can do that.”
“I know you can. That’s not the hard part. The hard part is getting her to speak your name.”
The demon grinned. “Thank you. You’re alright.”
“Hold on a second. The angel pulled out a phone and pushed a button. Will you say that again? I want to record that. Maybe use it as my voicemail greeting.”
Deliverance shook his head and disappeared.
As Sixt was getting ready to get in the bath, she heard tapping at the door. She pulled a towel around herself and went to the door, assuming it would be the demon, who was nothing if not selfish and intrusive. She might have to ask some of her witch friends how to ward the penthouse against a demon.
When she swung the bath door open, there was no one there. At least no one she was expecting. Movement caught her eye and she looked down to see Big Bird walking into the bathroom.
“What’s the matter?” she said. “You can’t be by yourself for a while?”
He said nothing, but flew up to perch on a towel rack near the tub.
When she thought about background music, she was getting ready to get in the tub. If she’d thought about it earlier, she could have set the household audio system to a relaxing channel, but the controls were in the kitchen and she felt like being lazy. So she grabbed her phone, took it off mute, and let it play.
She groaned out loud as the hot water surrounded her feet and legs and eased down into the tub. It was heaven and, after a couple of minutes, she laid back, resting her head on the cushioned bath pillow.
Feeling drowsy, she was practically dozing, when the music stopped. The text tone sounded.
“Deliverance calling,” said Big Bird.
She looked at the bird curiously, knowing beyond a doubt that she had never said that particular phrase in front of the bird. Sitting up, she reached for the phone. The only message was a photo of the purple roses, in a fluted vase pretty enough for Tiffany’s window, sitting on her kitchen island.
She gritted her teeth. The demon had been in her apartment uninvited. She decided to ignore the text. And him.
“And don’t ever say the name Deliverance again,” she told Big Bird who, like most males, did exactly as he was told not to do.
“Deliverance. Deliverance. Deliverance,” he said.
“Shut up or I will put you out to fend for yourself with the pigeons.”
Big Bird said nothing more.
She set the phone to DO NOT DISTURB and resumed grappling for a state of zen.
An internal alert sounded when Deliverance sensed that his name had been spoken by the witch. He was sitting on a stool at the island in Sixt’s kitchen when he realized that all systems were a ‘go’.
“That didn’t take long.” He smiled to himself as he prepared to mount a siege if necessary. “You’re up, demon.”
Sixt was unable to get to a state of relaxation. The incident with the demon at the door combined with knowing that he’d been inside the apartment, and still might be, whether it was to deliver flowers or for some truly nefarious purpose, had made her tense, frustrated, and upset.
She ran some more hot water then settled back again thinking that she would try to achieve a meditative state and block out all the negativity that whirled around that demon like he was a Tasmanian devil. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on relaxing her muscles.
Sixt hadn’t lit the fireplace in her bath. She also hadn’t taken time to light the thirteen candles of various shapes, sizes, and colors that sat on the tub’s apron. She heard the soft who
osh the fireplace made when it caught and opened her eyes to see the normally calming movement of flames. She was also acutely aware of the fact that the candles had been lit. All of them. Which made her sincerely glad she insisted on non-scented candles or the aroma competition would trigger her gag reflex.
“Ugh!” she said out loud. She was, apparently, going to have to get up, get dressed, get a pizza - because she was in serious need of carb rich junk food, and call friends to find out the best way to ward that demon’s ass off the property for good.
She pulled the lever to release the water stopper, stood up, toweled off and pulled on a thick, pink French terry robe. The tie around the waist had just been secured when she heard a knock at the door. Rolling her eyes, she stomped over, to the degree someone can stomp when barefoot, and flung the door open wide.
“What do you want?!?”
It was evident to Deliverance that she hadn’t appreciated the flower arrangement, delivery, or the additional mood lighting for her bath. Judging from the look on her face, it was clear that he wasn’t any more welcome than he had been before.
Still, he was undeterred. “A do over.”
Her brows drew together in confusion. “A what?”
“I want a do over. You don’t know what that means? It means…”
“Yes! I know what it means! I’m asking what you’re talking about.” She stopped and looked at the ceiling. “You know what? I am not asking what you’re talking about because I don’t care. I’m asking you to get out and make super sure that you and I never ever appear in the same place at the same time again.”
“I’m really in a place to be open to whatever you ask. But that’s the one thing I can’t do. I need to keep the lines of communication open.”
She laughed in a way that made it clear she wasn’t amused, but paying homage to irony.
While she was doing that, he was breathing in deep. “You smell really good.” His eyelids closed to half-mast as he looked her over. “Pink. It matches the color of your skin when you’ve been in a hot bath. Pretty.” He reached for the tie of the robe and she slapped his hand, looking not just indignant, but scandalized.
“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?!” She frowned. “A couple of days ago you were devoted to my suffering, planning for me to die, agonized and alone.”
“Well.” He shrugged. “I admit that was bad.”
“GET OUT!”
“Wait. I have things to tell you.”
“What could you possibly have to tell me that would interest me?”
“I, ah, apologize?” She started to close the bathroom door in his face. “Wait. Wait. Wait. There’s more.”
She reopened the door. “It had better be better than that.”
“It is.”
“Well?”
“That’s the first time I ever apologized to a female.”
She burst into laughter. “I’m going to take a wild guess that it’s long overdue. I’m going to take a wild guess that there are a billion women who deserve an apology from you.”
“That’s an outrageous exaggeration. I’ve only fucked half a million women. Altogether.”
She gaped. “You. Are. Unbelievable.”
“And it doesn’t count if I was cursed!” he said pointedly. “The big majority of those were the result of being cursed.”
He knew she had relented the tiniest fraction when he sensed that her muscles relaxed the tiniest bit.
“Pizza,” said Big Bird.
She turned around and looked at the parrot, thinking that he was soon to be a gift to someone who could put up with his bullshit.
Deliverance glanced at the bird. “That’s a good idea. Let’s go out for pizza and talk about a do over.”
“You don’t eat.”
“I will. If it will make you happy.”
She felt like slapping herself. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I don’t have any intention of eating with you, pizza or otherwise.”
“Why not?”
“Demon is a douche,” said Big Bird.
A look of surprise on Deliverance’s face, followed by a right and proper glare at the bird, and one blink later Big Bird found himself with a black ribbon tied in a bow around his beak. He tried to stand on one leg and get it off with the other leg, but it wouldn’t budge.
Sixt narrowed her eyes at Deliverance. “Ungag my bird.”
“I will if we can talk privately.”
“I don’t want to talk to you. Privately or otherwise.”
“Why don’t we leave the bird in here and order pizza? We can eat it in the kitchen and talk about the possibility of working things out.”
She shook her head, eyebrows drawn together again. “Working things out? Are you insane? You wanted to torture me, punish me, maybe kill me. There’s nothing to work out.”
“Okay, well, if any of those things had happened I can see that you’d have a legitimate problem with me.” She pulled back, frown deepening further. “But since you basically had a nice fantasy vacation…”
“Who told you that?”
“Guess.” He continued on. “And remember when you tried to say you were sorry about the curse and I wouldn’t listen? Well, this is just like that.”
“This is not just like that.”
“Yes it is.”
She stared for a few seconds, chewing on her bottom lip. “Look. Here’s the way I see it. You’ve got something you feel you need to say and you’re obviously not going to go away until you say it. I want you to go away and stay gone. So let’s make a deal. You say your piece. Then go away and stay there.”
“Okay.”
“No tricks.”
“How do you define trick?”
“See? That right there indicates that you don’t have any intention of playing fair.”
“Fair?” He said it like it was an alien concept. “I can do fair. I think.”
“Alright. You go to the kitchen and order a pizza from Bowza Boys. Double pepperoni, mushrooms, double bell peppers, a few scattered black olives, and grated parmesan on top. You need to write this down?” He shook his head. “I’ll get dressed and meet you there. I’ve never needed a glass of wine more.” He grinned and started to leave. “And take the gag off Big Bird.”
Deliverance removed the black ribbon from the bird’s beak. “He has to stay out of the kitchen.”
“Agreed,” Sixt said.
When Deliverance was gone, she turned to the bird. “Are you crazy? I don’t think little gray parrots are in a position to go around challenging demons.”
Big Bird blinked, raised his wings, ruffled his feathers, and said, “Douche.”
Sixt looked at herself in the mirror wondering how she’d ended up agreeing to have a conversation over pizza. “Yeah. That just about covers it.”
She pulled on ripped jeans, a gray cotton, cowl neck pullover, and went barefoot. She left her hair up in a don’t-care ponytail to accentuate that she didn’t care what he thought.
Turning the corner she came to an abrupt stop when she saw the arrangement of purple roses. She hadn’t really looked when they were clutched in the demon’s hand outside her front door, but they were nothing less than magnificent. In fact, she’d never seen anything like them.
She glanced at Deliverance. “They’re nice.”
“Special.” He nodded. “Special flowers for a special witch.”
She rolled her eyes. Again. “Cheese overpowers everything.”
When he frowned slightly it occurred to her that he might not get the reference. After all, he didn’t eat very often.
“You look wonderful,” he said quietly. “Real.”
“Yeah? How long did they say on pizza?”
“Another ten minutes.” He looked down at her pink toenails and smiled. “Is pink your favorite color?”
She couldn’t help checking out her own toenails, like she’d forgotten what they looked like. “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about a favorite color.” She looked up at the ros
es. “I think I like purple roses.”
The doorman buzzed. Sixt went to the intercom.
“Pizza?” she asked.
“How’d you know?” the doorman chuckled.
“Magic. Send him up.” As she went to get money out of her wallet she said, “That was faster than ten minutes.”
“Magic,” the demon smiled.
She was waiting in front of the elevator for delivery. The doors opened to a kid with a big smile who would be cute as could be some day when his skin cleared up.
“Double pepperoni?” he asked.
“That’s me. Here you go.”
He looked at the bill and his smile fell. “I didn’t bring change for this.”
“That’s to make up for everybody who ever stiffed you.”
He grinned broadly. “Thank you!”
He turned to go and she said. “Wait a second. Don’t go away. I’ve got something else for you.” She set the pizza on the kitchen island, hurried away to the bathroom, and pulled an innocent, mostly full, bottle of astringent from the cabinet. She shook it up, said a few words, and rushed back to the elevator. Handing it to the kid, she said, “This is from Switzerland. Don’t tell anybody about it. Use it on your skin sparingly and in two weeks you’re going to be looking for a modeling agent.”
He took the bottle, embarrassed about his skin and the attention that had been called to his condition, but at the same time, he was hopeful it might have an effect.
“That’s very nice of you,” he said quietly.
“Sure. See ya.”
She went inside and closed the door.
When she returned to the kitchen, Deliverance said, “Kid’s right. That was very nice of you.” She shrugged. “Do you do that kind of thing often?”
“Hmmm. Sometimes. My parents were healers. They farmed special herbs, things that would only grow for witches. If they had lived long enough, eventually they would have figured out how to get the same magical results without having to rely on physical properties like herbs and oils.”
Deliverance was studying her. “You’re still interested in healing.”
“Like I said. Sometimes.” She realized that she was having a conversation with Deliverance, which was the exact thing she’d said she wouldn’t do. “You’re supposed to say what you have to say while you’re watching me eat pizza and drink wine then vamoose. Remember? That was the deal.”
Deliverance (Knights of Black Swan Book 12) Page 21
