Holy Socks And Dirtier Demons

by J. A. Kazimer

  wings.” I wasn’t sure if Tyrfing would affect the angel, but I wasn’t going to

  take the chance.

  “You should leave the mean one.” The angel gripped the sword with

  my sweatshirt after passing me the Baby Jesus. “Her place is here.”

  “No.” I lifted Lilith over my shoulder in a makeshift fireman’s carry,

  and tucked the kid underneath my other arm. Using my body to shield him, I

  trudged from the gates of hell, and into Times Square.

  Screams from passing tourist reverberated through my aching head,

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  but I paid them little attention, focused instead on locating Lilith’s Gremlin

  and getting the fuck out of there.

  “Where is it?” I motioned to the angel.

  “Two blocks south.” He smiled, as if he’d solved all of my problems.

  I shook my head and headed north. Sure enough three blocks later,

  the Gremlin sat parked against a curb. A sign warned of the dangers of

  parking in that specific spot in the NYPD’s stiff, intimidating language.

  Lilith, God love her, had left a fuck you note to parking police on the

  windshield, and the keys in the ignition.

  Shoving the kid into the backseat, I buckled Lilith in the front and

  jumped into the driver’s seat. The angel huffed, but climbed into the back

  without further comment. Once we were all settled, I cranked the ignition,

  pounded on the dash, and pumped the gas.

  The Gremlin coughed once, sputtered, and died.

  Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  I pounded on the dashboard, a tear of frustration and rage rolled

  down my cheek. A manly tear. Lilith’s voice whispered in my head, “Suck it

  up, you big baby. Do you see J.C. crying?”

  I grinned, probably delusional, but comforted all the same. I twisted

  the keys again, and laughed when the engine roared to life. Things were

  looking up. I slammed the Gremlin into drive, and without a destination in

  mind, sped up the avenue.

  ~ * ~

  In the dead of the night, I drove an angel, a dead girl, and God’s son,

  his diaper filled with shit, to Queens.

  My mind raced, connecting the dots of today’s events. Mary had

  stolen the kid, kept him locked away, but to what end? She wasn’t working

  alone. I was sure of it. So who dared to fuck with God, and the Devil?

  Samuel.

  His named popped into my head, and my knuckles whitened on the

  steering wheel. I glanced into the darkness, and then into the backseat where

  the angel sat. “Wait here,” I said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  The angel nodded, his eyes leery as I picked up Lilith’s body and

  carried her through the gates of the Calvary Cemetery.

  The gravestones looked the same as they had days ago. I weaved my

  way through the headstones and angelic statues, memories surging like the

  scent of death surrounding me. Ahead the marble stone of Steve Brodie’s

  mausoleum glinted under a single, bright star.

  I smiled, a lifetime had past since Lilith locked me inside, actually,

  two lifetimes. Leaning her body against the cold stone, I pushed the door

  open. Inside the crypt smelled of stale air and black candles. Homey.

  Wrapping Lilith in my arms for the last time, I held her close and

  inhaled the scent of her. Exotic tobacco and sin. I kissed her forehead and set

  her down on the icy ground.

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  “I will make this right,” I promised over the lump in my throat. My

  lips brushed hers, and for a second, I imagined a spark of life in her frozen

  corpse. But unlike Sleeping Beauty, Lilith stayed dead.

  I swallowed hard and glanced to Heaven. “I’m not fucking Job. Get

  it? Bring her back.”

  Silence filled the chamber. Dead, thick silence.

  “Stubborn prick.” I flipped God off, and bent over Lilith once more.

  “Don’t give up on me.” I grabbed her bluish hand, kissed it, and staggered to

  my feet. My eyes burned with tears, but I refused to let them fall. Tears were

  for the dead, and I’d be damned if I’d give Lilith up that easy.

  At the entrance of the crypt, I lit another candle and said goodbye

  before I closed the door for the last time.

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  Thirty Nine

  “Here.” Hades handed me another beer followed by a shot of milk-

  turned-whiskey.

  I slumped on a bar stool at the Underworld, drowning myself in

  liquor. Cheap liquor. The angel and the kid sat at the opposite end of the bar

  watching a stupid cartoon about the tribulations of a yellow square. The kid

  looked bored, the angel mesmerized.

  “I just don’t get it.” I shook my head, warding off duel images of

  Hades, and swallowed the shot. “Why didn’t Mary try and kill me sooner? It

  wasn’t like she didn’t have the chance.”

  Hades patted my shoulder. “Who knows with women? Persephone

  threatens to smoother me in my sleep every night, but come morning, I’m

  still breathing.”

  Cupid, Hades’s long-time rival for Persephone’s affections, crawled

  on top the barstool next to me. His breath reeked of alcohol covered by

  breath mints and ass. “Mary’s the blonde one, right?”

  “Yeah, that bitch.” I chugged my beer and motioned for another.

  “When I find her...”

  “I can make that happen.” His heart-shaped eyelid winked at me.

  “Fuck off, you sawed-off Romeo.” Hades pushed Cupid, knocking

  his diaper-wrapped ass to the floor. “Jace don’t need your help.”

  “No, wait.” I stumbled to my feet, my brain swimming in the deep-

  end of a whiskey pool. “Do you know where Mary is?”

  Cupid shook his overly large cherub head. “Not exactly.”

  “Don’t listen to him.” Hades gestured to the shorter demi-God. “He’s

  a hack, Jace. A weasel. A drunk.”

  I waved Hades off, and focused on Cupid. “Tell me what you know.”

  He inched himself back onto the bar stool, and said, “Well, I know

  for a fact love is in the air.”

  I rolled my eyes. Fuck love. What had it ever done for me? I’d

  married for love, fucked for love, and died for it. None of it mattered. Lilith

  was dead. Mary was an evil bitch, and I was drunk enough to listen to a dude

  in a diaper.

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  “I’ll have you know during the month of February more babies are

  conceived than any other time of the year.” Cupid nodded his head.

  “So?” I sat down again, and drank half of the beer Hades set in front

  of me while waiting for Cupid, who oddly looked like a lollipop, to make his

  point. “What the fuck does that have to do with Mary?”

  Cupid frowned. “Nothing. But it has plenty to do with the seed

  planted inside the other one.”

  “What?” I jumped from the stool, tripped over my feet, and landed

  hard on my ass. “Lilith was pregnant? Why didn’t she tell me?” I pictured a

  small demon child in her womb with her cat-eyes, and Samuel’s boy band

  sneer and bad bleach job. What kind of mother would Lilith have made? A

  good one, I bet, but with Samuel as a father, the poor kid never had a chance.

  Demon spawn times two.

  “Maybe Lilith didn’t know, but my point is, preventative measures

  shoul
d always be taken.” Cupid smiled, as if everything he said had made

  perfect sense.

  “What?” Hades shook his head, and grabbed the glass of amber

  liquid in front of Cupid. “You’re cut off.”

  “But—”

  “No. Get the fuck out of here and sober up.” Hades lifted him by his

  tiny wings, and booted Cupid out of the door. Then Hades turned to me.

  “Sorry, Jace. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

  “Do you think he was telling the truth? That Lilith was pregnant?” I

  shuddered at the thought. Had I destroyed two lives tonight? Lilith and her

  unborn child?

  Hades pressed another shot into my hand. “It doesn’t matter now.

  Either way. You have to focus on protecting little J.C., and finding that

  spiteful bitch, Mary, before she hurts anyone else.”

  I nodded. “You’re right. It’s time I got my priorities in order.”

  “That’s my boy.” Hades slapped me on the back.

  “Hades?”

  “Yeah Jace?”

  “I think I’m going to puke.” And that’s what I did. Bright

  Technicolor streams of vomit burst from my mouth splattering everything in

  its path.

  The angel ducked, but not soon enough. Bits of my stomach lining,

  bile, and beer dripped from his hair and down his robe.

  The kid, not a spot of vomit on him, smiled and laughed. “Mine.

  Mine. Mine.”

  I gave him a small wave, and dropped face first onto the floor.

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  Forty

  The angel screamed and slammed on the breaks just in time, or so he

  swore, even though the bus he’d swerved to avoid was about a mile ahead.

  Like GPS, God had not installed the ability to drive in his angels, which

  made for one hell of a ride home to Lilith’s apartment.

  I rubbed my dashboard-dented head and glanced into the backseat to

  check on the kid. He poked his head from the makeshift car seat, and smiled

  at me, looking ridiculous in a taped up UPS box and bubble wrap. But

  knowing the angel didn’t know how to and that I wasn’t in any condition to

  drive, we’d made do. There was enough duct tape and bubble wrap around

  him to ship ten crates of ‘Jesus is my co-pilot’ statues.

  “Watch it,” I yelled to the angel as he flew past a motorcycle cop,

  inches from the cop’s tire. A blaze of red and blue lights exploded behind us.

  The angel started to pull over.

  “What the fuck are you doing? Go. Go.” I slammed my foot on the

  gas pedal, and the Gremlin redlined and raced up the street. The angel

  screeched and closed his eyes.

  “Open your eyes and drive, damn it.” I wrenched the wheel, sending

  us spinning into the right lane, and out of the path of oncoming traffic.

  “Pull over,” the cop’s voice boomed from a speaker behind us.

  “We must do as he asks.” Blindly, the angel pressed the brake pedal.

  I kicked him, and smashed my foot on the gas again. “No fucking

  way. I’ll go to jail, the kid will go to foster care, and you’ll go to the pound.”

  “I am not a bird!”

  “Tell it to the judge.” I steered us around the corner of Canal, and

  whipped up Broadway. Traffic was light for this time of night, and the chase

  reached speeds of thirty miles an hour. Fucking Gremlin. There was no way

  we’d lose the cop without help.

  The kid bounced in his box. “Mine. Mine. Mine.” Funny how I used

  to think that was cute, now I couldn’t wait until he learned a new word.

  Maybe I’d teach him a dirty one.

  “Mine. Mine.” His chanting rang through the car, growing louder and

  louder.

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  “Shah. Mine’s trying to think,” I told him.

  His lower lip quivered, and he burst into a full fit of tears. Big, fat,

  wet tears.

  With a crack of thunder, the sky opened and a downpour of rain

  mixed with hamsters erupted from the clouds as snotty tears ran down the

  kid’s face.

  Son-of-a-bitch. No offense to the Virgin Mary intended. The

  motorcycle cop swerved a few times to avoid the barrage, and finally lost

  control. The cop’s bike tipped over, and he skidded across the slick concrete

  stopping a few feet from the curb. I watched as he stood, brushed his uniform

  off, and limped away.

  Patting the kid's leg, I flicked on the Gremlin’s windshield wipers

  with my other hand to scrape off splattered hamster pieces and salty

  raindrops.

  ~ * ~

  I picked the lock on Lilith’s apartment door, and ushered the angel

  and kid inside. The room looked empty and dull without Lilith. The bright

  white faded into a dingy gray.

  “Yowl.” Bodhi curled around my legs.

  I bent over and stroked his sleek fur. He returned the favor with a

  claw to my index finger and an annoyed hiss. Fucking demon cat.

  “Mine’s?” The kid pointed to the cat.

  “Have at it.” I lifted the kid from the angel’s arms, and sat him next

  to the spawn of Satan cat. Served the cat right.

  The kid jabbed a finger into the cat’s mouth, and squeezed his bushy

  white tail. “Yoooowwwell!” The cat’s hackles rose, as the kid stuffed

  Bodhi’s tail into his drooly mouth.

  I left the cat to the kid’s torture, and headed to the bathroom. Sober

  now, exhaustion had taken over. I wanted to clean up and crash for the next

  ten hours.

  My clothes reeked of blood, dried brains, vomit, and hell fire. I

  stripped, cranked the faucet to hot, and stood under the burning water until it

  ran cold. I willed my mind to go blank, to forget the look of evil on Mary’s

  face, and the scent of Lilith’s blood.

  Picking up a bottle of Lilith’s shampoo, I inhaled the aroma, a blend

  of coconut and cherries. It was so surprisingly girly, I smiled. There was so

  much about Lilith that would forever remain a mystery to me.

  Scrubbing at my skin, I washed away her blood. A green swirl

  circled the drain, disappearing forever. How had I let this happen?

  I shut the water off and climbed from the tub, standing naked in the

  fogged mirror. I wiped my hand across the shiny surface.

  Like a ghost, Lilith’s image floated in front of me, her eyes dancing,

  face full of life. I touched my fingers to the glass wanting to feel her skin one

  more time.

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  The angel opened the door, and Lilith vanished into the mist.

  “Fuck.” I smashed my fist against the mirror, shattering it. Bits of

  glass stabbed my hand, slicing it open, but I was beyond feeling physical

  pain.

  “Here.” The angel handed me a fresh pair of jeans and an equally

  clean t-shirt, two sizes too big.

  “Thanks.” I pulled on the jeans, and walked barefoot to Lilith’s

  perfectly made bed. The white linen called to my tired body, sapping the last

  of my energy. I lay down, my fingers brushing Lilith’s pillow. It smelled of

  her. I closed my eyes and tried to relax.

  “Nemamiah?”

  The angel’s fetid breath hit me, and I opened an eye. “What?”

  “Your wetness is making the ink run.” He smiled at me, his head

  tilted to one side.

  “What ink?” I half-sat, and
searched the bed for ink stains.

  The angel pointed to my pillow. Sure enough, a wet white envelop

  lay against the ink-tainted pillowcase. Across the front of the letter was my

  name in solid, block script.

  I swallowed and ripped it open. Three folded sheets of paper fell onto

  the bed. My eyes scanned the pages, smiling at Lilith’s handwriting. No 'i's

  dotted with tiny hearts, or girly scrawls for her.

  My smile changed into a frown as I read her final words: protect J.C.,

  kill Mary, and feed my cat.

  Fuck.

  I glanced at the kitchen floor, and the half-filled dish of cat food. The

  kid glared across the dish at the cat in a kat-chow standoff. Bodhi growled,

  and the kid growled back. The kid touched his finger to the tip of Bodhi’s

  nose. “Mine.”

  Bodhi dropped dead, his whiskers twitching once before he headed

  for the bright white light.

  “No. Bad.” I wagged my finger at the kid.

  His bottom lip sucked under his top, and he appeared ready to cry.

  I shook my head no.

  His eyes filled with tears.

  “I’m going to count to three.” Then what, I asked myself? How do

  you punish Jesus? Send him to bed with out a last supper?

  “Mine.” He stuck his head stubbornly into the air.

  Like father like son. “One… two...”

  The kid tapped Bodhi’s nose, and the cat shot to its feet with a

  terrified meow. The kid smiled, grabbed the cat, and squished it to his sticky

  chest. The cat let out a smothered cry, but didn’t fight the kid’s affections.

  Lilith’s order to feed her cat presented a slight problem. But I’d sure

  as hell protect the kid, and kill that deceitful bitch, Mary. For once, I’d do

  things the right way. For Lilith. For the kid. And for myself.

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  Forty One

  I climbed the last stair, a heaviness pulling at my chest, a thirty-two

  pound heaviness with drool-coated hands and kat-chow breath. I glared down

  at the kid, who smiled up at me from the baby-sling. I felt like a fucking

  kangaroo, but the chick at the Babies R Us swore it was the latest in

  fashionable baby-wear.

  “This is a stupid idea.” I tugged at the straps trying to find a