Holy Socks And Dirtier Demons (12 page)

“I took you out with three pounds of sugar and some holy water, so

I’m pretty sure I can handle it.” I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from

laughing at the look on her face.

An array of expressions from violent murder to malicious humor,

raked across her face settling on a
You’ll pay for that look
. “Yes, you got me

all right.” She leaned in. “But what would have happened if you’d followed

my lead?”

I raised an eyebrow. “I’d have died a horrific, painful death, and most

likely have ended up chained in hell for an eternity.”

“I can see why you’ve been divorced three times.” She grinned.

“Sarcasm is not a pleasant trait.”

I shrugged. My personality flaws aside, my ex-wives weren’t angels.

I’d thought so at first, blinded by their beauty and the chance at a real family,

but I quickly revised my opinion having paid alimony for the last ten years.

“Funny how you’re still hanging around.”

She chuckled, eyes twinkling. “I’m betting your wives were the girl

next-door type. Blonde and sugary sweet.”

“And how do you know that?” I grinned, giving her a slow once

over. Cat-eyed devil girls held a certain sick appeal to me lately.

She licked her glossy lips. “Because the candy-coated woman

standing behind you, looking like she wants you dead, is blonde, and wearing

a pink dress.”

Shit. I twisted in my seat. A small fist caught me in the center of the

forehead. I blinked and rubbed at the spot. I’d hurt myself worse shaving.

Grabbing the woman’s hand before she delivered the next blow, I

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said, “Damn it, Khloe, I can have you arrested for violating the court’s

restraining order.”

Ex-wife number one’s face turned a violent shade of red. “I’m Aisa,

you asshole. Wife number three. The woman you swore you’d grow old

with? The one who
ironed your underwear
!”

What could I say? They all looked the same. “Aisa? I thought you

moved to Washington, or someplace.”

“I did. Two years ago. I’ve been back in the city for three months.”

Her hand went to her hip. “Which you would have known if you’d bother to

show up at our divorce hearing.”

I shrugged. “I’ve been busy.” That excuse came up a lot recently.

Aisa glanced over my shoulder, her eyes examining Lilith. “Who’s

she? Another one of your women?”

Lilith answered before I could, “I am
a
woman, but I am no man’s

woman, even one as dumb and cute as Jace.”

“Hey—” I began.

A high-pitched squeal of humor escaped Aisa’s lips. I suddenly

remembered why I divorced her after six months, well the laugh and the fact

that she had tried to smoother me with a pillow.

Under the strain of her humor a nearby water glass cracked, spilling

its contents onto the tabletop, and a man seated at the counter dropped to his

knees, face frozen in a death mask. Birds fell from the sky outside. But

Aisa’s mirth only grew louder.

The blood pumping through my brain turned sluggish, and a wave of

dizziness passed over me.

“κλείστε επάνω, εσείς προδιαγεγραμμένη σκύλα, ή θα σας κλείσω,”

Lilith yelled in Greek, her hands cupping her ears.

As suddenly as Aisa’s laughter had begun, it stopped. Blessed

silence. Aisa smiled, gave Lilith the finger, and smacked me in the back of

the head. “I will enjoy snipping your thread.” She turned on her spiked pink

heel and left the restaurant.

“Lovely girl.” Lilith wiped up the spilled water, as a rush of

customers started CPR on the downed man. Rhythmic pounding and shouts

for help filled the air. The once peaceful diner slipped into chaos, much like

my life following Aisa’s and my wedding vows.

At one time, I had thought she was the one. Actually, I’d thought

Khloe—wife number one—and Lacie—wife number two—were the ones as

well. Drawn by all three ex-wives’ sweet innocence, kindness, and purity, I

fell in love quickly and out even faster. They had an untouchable quality,

like.... Shit. Mary. I’d forgotten all about her.

I quickly reached for the check, remembered my homeless state, and

pushed it toward Lilith. She grinned, and dropped a hundred on the table.

Rising from the booth, I motioned to the cash. “Sleeping with Satan

pays well, I see.” Lilith rolled her eyes, but followed me out the door

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without comment.

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Twenty

As an ambulance screeched to a halt in the front of the diner Lilith

and I had just left, I dialed Mary’s number from the payphone at the corner.

The phone clicked a couple of times before the call connected.

Lilith smoldered next to me, literally smoldered, smoke rising off her

reddening skin. She tapped her foot as her eyes shot daggers at my back. I

smiled, and cupped the phone waiting for Mary to answer.

“Hello?” Mary’s voice sounded divine. As if a spell had broken, cast

likely by the devil woman beside me, my heart swelled with desire for Mary.

I wanted to wrap her in my arms and never let go.

“Is anyone there?” Fear crawled into her words.

“Sorry.” I shook my head. “It’s Jace. I wanted to make sure you’re

all right.”

“Because heaven forbid Mary broke a nail,” Lilith sneered, a bluish

flame igniting in her eyes.

“Oh Jace, I was so worried. When your apartment burned up, and the

firemen found a body….” Her voice broke. “I didn’t know what to think.”

Body? Whose body? “I’m fine, but tell me about this body?”

“Body? What body?” Lilith grabbed my arm, burning my skin

beneath her fingers.

“Ow!” I pulled away, slapping at the fire handprint on my sleeve.

“Shut up so I can find out what body.”

“Is someone there with you?” Mary’s sweetness shifted to suspicion.

“Is it that Lilith woman?”

“No.” I smiled at Lilith. “Some hooker just asked me for a date. So

where did the firefighters find this body?”

“In your bed. That’s why I thought it was you.”

My bed? That didn’t make sense. The angel and I had been the only

people…umm… beings in the apartment. When had a body snuck into my

bed? I scratched my head. “Burned beyond recognition I bet?”

“Yes.” The shiver in Mary’s voice carried through the phone, circling

my spine with the premonition of doom. “If you need someplace to stay...”

That sounded like one hell of an offer. I licked my lips in anticipation

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of tasting Mary’s skin. Smack. The palm of Lilith’s hand met the back of my

neck. I blinked, and swallowed my lust. “That’s a great offer, but I have

some work to do.”

“Work?” Mary acted surprised.

Ouch. Shame mingled with my desire. I grew used to that feeling as I

aged. “It shouldn’t take more than a day or so. I’ll call you when I’m

finished.”

“Or dead,” Lilith said, as I hung up the payphone.

~ * ~

After my conversation with Mary, an annoyed Lilith and I cruised the

Lower East Side searching for the perfect weapon to defeat an army of

unknown kidnappers. We stopped at gun shops, aromatherapy boutiques, and

an odd strip club or two. Don’t ask me why. This was Lilith’s show. I merely

provided morality support.

An hour after our search began, we entered The Divine Comedy

Pawnshop & Bass emporium. Sadly, the place resembled neither a wharf nor

hell. It did however stink of marijuana, and beer battered onions.

From floor to ceiling worthless crap teetered like drunken children. A

greasy, dark-skinned mobster armed with a steak knife and a chicken wing

slouched behind the counter.

“Here? Really?” I gestured inside. “We’re more likely to find Jimmy

Hoffa then a supernatural weapon.”

Lilith grinned, but sauntered to the register. “Hey, Dante. How’s

business?”

“Can’t complain, doll.” The doll sounded affected, as did the rest of

his accent. I listened closer, trying to pinpoint his nationality. East Indian, I

guessed.

He sucked on a chicken wing, and smacked his large lips. “Are you

looking for something special? Or did you come around to show off your

new man?”

“A little of both.” Her eyes met mine. “Twirl for the nice man,

Jacey.” I cracked my knuckles but did a three-sixty as she asked.

“What is he?” Dante stroked his chin, weighing me like cattle.

“Human,” Lilith snapped out. “A shame really, but what can you

do?”

“He doesn’t look human.”

Now wait a minute, I looked plenty human, and in fact I was human.

What did a fake mobster from the third circle of hell know about it?

“Trust me, Dante. Jace is as fallibly human as man gets.” Lilith

laughed, clicking her fingers in front of Dante’s face. “Stop ogling my man,

and help me find the perfect weapon.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What type of game are you hunting?”

Lilith leaned in and whispered in his ear. Dante’s face whitened. He

shook his head, and Lilith nodded, gesturing wildly. I titled my head, hoping

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to catch a word or two of their conversation. I did, but they might as well

have been talking Swahili. Hell for all I knew it was Swahili. Clicks, grunts,

and groans spewed from Lilith’s mouth, but somehow sounded sexy.

Dante glanced around Lilith to glare at me. “I have just the thing,” he

said to her. He disappeared behind a stack of junk, hard to do for a fat man

but he managed. In his wake, a rumble reverberated through the room,

sending up clouds of dust mites.

I waved away the toxic air. “Lilith, what aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing that changes the outcome.” She gave me a sad smile, as if

fate sealed our destiny. “We must find J.C., and slay the dragon. If that

means one of us dies, so be it.”

So be it? I didn’t fucking think so. I had important things to

accomplish before my time ran out, not that I could name a damn one at the

moment. I rubbed my chin. “Care to give me a hint about which one of us

bites the bullet?”

“Would you believe me either way?”

She had a point. Before I could respond, Dante crawled from the

trash pile, a cloth wrapped sword clutched in his pudgy hands. He unwound

the cloth, careful not to touch the weapon. The hilt of the weapon gleamed

with gold, and its sheath shined like fire.

Lilith raised an eyebrow. “Tyrfing? You can’t be serious.”

Dante frowned. “It is the perfect weapon. One, even a mortal,” he

sneered at me, “cannot miss with. Besides, it is the only weapon that can kill

angels, devils and mortals alike.”

“Of that I have no doubt, but…”

“Pish. You don’t believe that old legend?” He waved a flabby fist.

“I’ve used it plenty of times and I’m still alive.”

She smiled. “Pick it up then.”

“Is that my phone?” Dante disappeared into the back of the shop to

answer his non-existent phone.

I moved to stand next to Lilith and the beautifully crafted sword. “I

take it there’s some bad mojo attached to this sword.”

“You could say that.” Her hand hovered above the forged steel.

“Have you ever heard the saying: ‘He who lives by the sword dies by the

sword?’”

I nodded. It was the motto of any great soldier. That and “How much

for a blowjob?”

“Well, Tyrfing is the reason for that. Whoever is stupid enough to

possess it will eventually succumb to it. But it gets worse...”

Her gaze stroked the razor sharp edges of the blade. Heat pooled low

in my body, a sexual response to the naked hunger in her eyes. Sparks leapt

from the metal to her fingertips. As if a powerful force compelled her, she

reached for the weapon.

I slapped her hand away, afraid of what would happen if she touched

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the steel, but like a magnet, my own mindless appendage curled around the

hilt.

Nothing happened. No explosion. No instant death. I lifted the sword

from the counter, weighing it in my hand. Surprised by its light weight, I

swung it in an arc feeling like a warrior, an uncoordinated one, but a warrior

just the same.

Sunlight reflected off the sharp blade, burning into Lilith’s vacant

eyes. She blinked once, shook her head, and let out a soft cry. “Oh God, what

have you done?”

“It’s okay.” I shrugged, parrying with violent force. “It’s a piece of

metal. A worthless legend. Nothing bad happened when I picked it up, and

nothing bad will happen.”

As I said those words, Dante returned from the backroom. “Hey there

pretty boy...” His eyes widened seconds before the sword pierced his gut. His

mouth formed an O, and he clutched at the mortal wound. “Figlio di una

femmina,” he whispered before dropping face first onto the floor.

Damn. I guess he was Italian. I ran to his side, but Lilith moved more