Holy Socks And Dirtier Demons (22 page)

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

should 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.

133

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.

136

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

comfortable position.

“Mine.”

Apparently, the kid agreed, but we’d have to make do.

When I had awoke this morning, the kid lay curled on the bed next to

me, and the angel had been nowhere in sight. When he failed to return after

an hour, I hoisted the kid into the babypack and headed out the door.

So here we were. The scene of the crime. I crept down the hallway,

keeping my nine-millimeter at my side. My mind scrambled to come up with

a better plan. One that didn’t involve dying. Nothing came to mind, so I went

with plan A.

I kicked the door of apartment 405. Mary’s apartment. The door flew

open, of course following Newton’s Third Law, it bounced off the wall and

slammed closed. But not before it smacked me in the nose, and knocked me

to the floor.

Fuck.

Careful not to squish the kid, I rolled around until the pain faded to a

dull throb.

“Mine?” The kid stabbed me in the eye.

I wiped away the blood from my nose, and plucked the kid’s finger

from my eye socket. “Mine is okay.” Stumbling to my feet, I readied my

weapon and my boot for another kick. This time I forced the door open, and