Holy Socks And Dirtier Demons (25 page)

like a fucked up version of ring-around-the-rosy, stopping every few seconds

to touch the cat’s nose in hopes of resurrecting the demonic beast. Let’s just

say, I wasn’t too disappointed when the cat stayed dead.

Reaching down, I lifted the kid into my arms and awkwardly patting

his back. His screams decreased, and a few seconds later he fell asleep on my

shoulder.

The angel took the kid from me and disappeared into the other room,

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leaving me with a half-drunk Cupid.

He started to speak, but I raised my hand for silence. “If you wake

that kid, I will rip your tiny heart-shaped nuts off. Do you understand me?” I

took a menacing step toward him. “Now, how did I fuck up this time?” Since

the kid entered my life, all I had done was mess up.

I could see the kid’s future clearly. At nineteen, he’d lock himself in

a clock tower with a high-powered rifle and pick off blonde-haired coeds

while he bitched about the high cost of ammunition and cat treats. And what

the fuck would I tell God? Hey, sorry about the Second Coming, but have

you thought about a third go-around? Maybe try a boy in a plastic bubble?

“You’re pathetic,” Cupid said, bringing me out of my fantasy.

“At least I’m taller than an elf.” I grinned, flashing predatory teeth

and gums. “If Mount Olympus gets too full, you could always apply to work

at the mall during Christmas.”

Cupid’s face turned red, and before I knew it, the little son-of-a-

Venus jumped me. His fist smashed into my nuts, sending my boys into my

throat. Fire raced from my damaged goods to my spleen. My will to live

ceased to exist, as did my ability to control my body. In my defense, I

managed avoid landing face first in my own vomit and even crawled an inch

or two before the darkness came.

~ * ~

“Hey pretty-boy. Wake up.”

Smack. A tiny palm slammed into my cheek.

“Hit me again, and I will twist you into a bow and send your ass to

the North Pole.” I opened my eyes and blinked away the salty tears crusting

my eyelids shut. The pain south of my equator had lessened. Now I only

wanted to die, rather than expecting it any minute now. I reached down to

check my package. “Thanks to you I might never have kids.”

Cupid laughed. “As if the world could get so lucky.” He climbed to

his feet and headed for the refrigerator. The sound of a whipped cream

aerosol can echoed from inside the icebox.

“Okay, enough is enough. Tell me why you’re here, or get out.” I

struggled up from the floor and grimaced at the Technicolor pile of vomit

staining Lilith’s white carpet, and my shirt.

“Whaaada youuu know aboouut the Second Commming?” Bits of

white foam flew from behind the open refrigerator door as Cupid spoke.

Scratching the stubble and puke covering my chin, I answered, “As

far as I know, he’s asleep in the other room.”

“I meant the prophesy, not Jesus.” The whipped cream-covered deity

closed the refrigerator door and waddled back to the living room. He climbed

up the edge of the white couch, leaving sticky fingerprints.

“From what I remember, Revelations paints a pretty grim picture.” I

shrugged. “Matthew also mentions the Alpha and the Omega, but I don’t

remember much about it.” Since I’d fallen asleep before reading the rest. All

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those Thou Shalts and moral values worked better than a sleeping pill and

shot of whiskey.

Cupid grunted. “Revelations. What a joke.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, scratched his diaper rash. “Do you have any idea what

John wrote the original text with? Shit. His own shit, mind you. The guy was

a loon. Never trust a psychotic to write the last chapter of any story, let alone

the supposed word of God.”

“So there’s no Second Coming?”

“The Messiah has been born, no doubt about that.” He gave a small

laugh. “But the thing is, Heaven will be ruled by another. It is
he
who shall

inherit the Kingdom of Heaven, and a pair of oxen, or was it a sheep? The

Second is merely a wake-up-call to the rest of the flock. Yet another sacrifice

to impress upon the masses the Lord’s love. You see, ruling heaven is much

like that TV show...”

“What show?”

His cherub chubby hand went to his cherub cubby hip. “Heaven is a

popularity contest. Right now, your Almighty has the largest flock, and He

means to keep it that way. So He gives the people what they want, a Second

Coming.”

“I don’t understand.”

Cupid rolled his eyes. “The Second Coming will never rule Heaven.

Only a child born of His loins can rule, ending the reign of the current king.

But the Second must die first.”

The kid had to die? Not on my watch!

Oh shit. Suddenly, the kid’s kidnapping made sense. Mary must have

known the truth behind the prophesy, and decided to generate God’s

grandkid like some kind of fucked up high school science project. One part

Jesus, one part deceitful bitch. The perfect combination to rule the Universe.

And now, she had to find a way to kill the kid. But I’d be dammed if I’d let

that happen.

Cupid’s chuckle brought me back to the present. “Of course, ruling

Heaven can’t be all its cracked up to be. Look at poor Zeus. The guy can’t

take a dump without all of Olympus betting on the color. But there’s a long

list of deities waiting for your Lord’s fall from grace.”

I pictured Zeus, flowing robes parted, taking a shit. Not a pleasant

image. I shook my head to clear it. “How do you know all this?” I considered

Cupid closely. Why was he telling me this? What did the little bugger have to

gain?

He snorted, blowing thick snot bubbles from his heart-shaped nose.

“I know plenty.” He leaned in close to me, so close that I could smell the

Desitin covering his ass. “For instance, I know all about you.”

Goosebumps spread up my arms. “What the fuck are you talking

about?”
Did he know about the voices?

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His expression grew colder as his eyes raked over me. “Are you

playing stupid, or are you really an idiot?”

How to answer? “Idiot, I guess.”

Cupid’s face broke into a wide grin. “So you really don’t know, do

you?” He laughed. “As much as it would make my day to ruin yours, I’ll

leave it to the Big Guy to fill you in. Good luck, dumbass. You’re going to

need it.” And with those dire words, Cupid disappeared in a puff of smoke

and cabbage fumes.

I waved a hand in front of my face. The stench dissipated, but his

words echoed in my brain. What was he hiding? And more importantly, what

the hell was I missing? Only one way to find out. I picked up the phone, and

dialed the Almighty.

Click.

“The number you have dialed has been disconnected. Please check

the number and dial again,” a voice prompted. A voice that sounded an awful

lot like God.

Fuck.

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Forty Six

I closed my eyes, letting the music of the night surround me. A

police siren screamed in the distance. The screams of two bums fighting over

a nearly empty bottle of booze in the alley rose through the open window.

The sound of glass shattering on the pavement echoed from below.

The bums began to wail, loud, piercing shrieks of loss.

In the apartment next door, a woman prayed with all her might. “Oh,

God. Please. Faster. Faster. Fuck
meeee!
”

I shook my head. If God knew anything, it was how to fuck someone.

For eight months, I’d worked my ass off to protect the kid and save the

world. But the second shit went bad, God had turned his back. And why not?

The Second Coming meant nothing. It was a ploy, a gimmick to keep Him in

power. I was a dupe, and Lilith had died for nothing.

My fist slammed into the pillow. The seam split, and a cloud of

feathers spilled from the cotton sheath. The pillow’s meaningless demise

calmed me, even as the grief I’d kept at bay throughout the day surfaced.

Funny that Lilith had come to mean so much to me, yet I never really knew

her, or trusted her.

My hands traced the contours of the bed, remembering the hard

planes and soft curves of her body. Lust mixed with gut churning sorrow. For

a moment, overwhelmed by loss and insecurity, my sanity slipped away.

My feelings for Lilith hadn’t been a mistake like the cotton-candy-

clones I’d married. My love was deep. Pure. Real.

Wasn’t it?

I shook my head. Not like it mattered now. Loving a dead woman led

nowhere, or to jail. Thankfully, I wasn’t desperate enough to fuck a corpse

just yet.

“Mine?” The kid stood in the doorway, moonlight illuminating his

sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Go back to bed.” My voice sounded harsh, thick with pent-up

emotion and exhaustion.

The kid took a step closer to the bed. It was then that I noticed Bodhi

clutched in his arms like a teddy bear. What was it like to be the kid? To be

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nothing more than a sacrifice? A savior adored by millions, but so alone, he

clutched a dead cat for comfort.

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes and pulled back the covers. “Come here.”

Not needing additional encouragement, he raced across the room and

dove beneath the blanket.

“Now go to sleep.” I settled in next to him.

A few minutes later, he fell asleep, the dead cat wrapped protectively

in his chubby arms. I did my best to ignore the smell of decaying feline and

after an hour, fell into a fitful sleep.

The voices started as I drifted off. Loud, hateful voices.
She never

loved you,
they whispered. I raised my hands to block their words, but had no

fucking luck.

Her blood is on your hands.
The voices grew angrier.
Just like those

you swore to protect. Your brothers-in-arms who died so you could live...

“No,” I mumbled in my sleep, fighting the rising flood of memories.

The broken body of David Klinger, a nineteen-year-old private on his first

tour in Iraq. His face perfectly preserved, farm boy innocent, but his eyes

were fixed and dilated. Dead eyes.

“Mine.” As suddenly as the voices appeared, they vanished. I opened

my eyes and stared into the sad face of the Messiah. His finger stroked my

forehead.

The image of David’s eyes faded from my mind. “Thanks,” I said,

groggily. A deep sense of contentment filled me. I sighed and snuggled

against the pillow. Everything was going to be fine. Just fine…

~ * ~

Awoke by a loud yowling, I shot from the bed, and slammed my

head into the headboard, almost knocking myself out. Still the pain in my

brain wasn’t as bad as the intense burning clawing up my leg.

I glanced down and screamed like a high school cheerleader on prom

night. A newly resurrected Bodhi cat’s thick claws were embedded in my

calf, and I swear the little bloodsucker was smiling.

I tried to shake him off, but he refused to budge. Instead, his claws

dug deeper, ripping chucks of flesh from my naked leg. Storming into the

kitchen, I pointed to the cat and my bleeding limb. “Next time no

resurrection.” I tugged at the growling cat. “He stays dead, you got me?”

The kid looked up, his mouth stuffed with X-shaped kitty kibbles.

“Mine?” The kid’s eyes dropped to the cat, and he began to chant happily,

“Mine, mine, mine, mine.”

The cat retracted his claws and leapt into the kid’s open arms. Great,

the two of them had bonded. Now, I’d never get rid of that cat.

Watching the kid and the cat, it hit me. I knew what I was destined to

do, consequences and God be damned.

Today was Jacement day.

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Forty Seven

My eyes scanned the rows and rows of rusted metal, and broken

automobile glass. Headlights, mufflers, and steering wheels littered the

ground below my feet. I sidestepped the rear-end of a Plymouth, narrowly

missing a protruding axel, and followed a giant across the automobile

graveyard.

My mission was simple. Find Lilith’s Gremlin, and get the fuck out

of town. I planned to ditch the angel in the middle of nowhere—Ohio, most

likely—and disappear with the Son of God. The kid deserved a chance, a

normal life. The world didn’t need a reminder of God’s love, not at the cost

of the kid. He’d given enough.

“Did you hear the one about the three Wise men—” the giant began,

his pale eyes glowing with humor. The name patch on his mechanic’s shirt

read Bob, but I had my doubts. No Bob was who he said he was.

“They were not that wise,” the angel argued. “What wise man does