Holy Socks And Dirtier Demons (26 page)

not warn of the explosive properties of Myrrh?”

To hide my laughter, I poked my head into the babypack to check on

my charge. Bodhi hissed at the intrusion, but the kid just smiled,

unconcerned.

Bob stopped walking. “What’s with him?” He pointed to the angel.

“No sense of humor.” I shook my head sadly. “It’s a curse really. So

where is the car?”

“Beyond those busted up Pintos.” Bob pointed in a far off direction,

above waves of rusted car parts. “If I was you, I’d leave the baby here with

that weird blond dude. It can get hairy back there, and I wouldn’t want

anything to happen…”

Nodding, I unstrapped the babypack and handed it to the angel. “Do

not let the kid out of your sight.”

“I will give your life to keep him safe,” the angel reassured me with a

blank smile.

Great. I motioned for “Bob” to lead the way, and together, we

climbed the rusted metal piles like trained mountaineers. My boots slid

across polished fenders, crunched over broken windshields, and waded

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through a sea of yellow-foamed seat cushions, finally landing on solid

ground a few yards from Lilith’s prized Gremlin.

The Gremlin looked a little worse for wear, with a broken headlight,

and flat tire, which oddly improved the car’s overall appearance.

“How much to get it out?” I reached into my jeans for a wad of cash

borrowed from Lilith’s cookie jar. It wasn’t like she needed it anymore.

Bob scratched his scraggly beard. “Well there’s the impound fee,

plus towing charge, not to mention the storage fee.” His eyes watched the

cash in my hand.

“I’ll give you two hundred.” I smiled. “Cash. No paperwork, no fuss.

You give me the keys, and I give you the cash.”

“Deal.”

We shook hands, his lizard like one grasped in mine. Seconds later,

Bob passed me the Gremlin’s key. My throat constricted at the sight of it.

Memories of Lilith rose inside my mind, pictures of her wicked smile

and tattooed limbs. Her scent filtered across my senses, exotic tobacco, and

woman.

I swallowed hard, and took the key. It warmed in the palm of my

hand, heating so rapidly the edges burned my skin. Shoving the key into the

ancient ignition, I pumped the gas pedal and pummeled the dashboard.

Bob stared at me, a look of disgust etched in the lines of his face. A

look that said, ”let her go son. She’s way past her prime.”

As much as I might agree, the Gremlin would suit my needs. I

needed a way out of the city, and the Gremlin, flat tire and broken headlight

aside, would carry the kid and me through the Lincoln tunnel and into the

Garden of Evil State. Once inside New Jersey, I’d ditch the angel and shoot

up I-80, disappearing in the cornfields of Iowa.

Maybe I’d buy a farm some place, raise cows or something. The kid

could have a normal life; have friends and a chance to be more than a

sacrifice. I pictured the kid at eighteen, scared and desperate, as his sixteen-

year-old girlfriend says she might be pregnant. Hell, even that would beat

being stapled to a cross for a second time.

I twisted the key and waited for the gurgling engine to catch. Brrrrrr.

Grrrrr. Click. Click. Click.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Son-of-a-bitch,” I yelled, slamming my fists against the steering

column. I glared at the heavens. “WHY?”

“Sounds like the alternator.” Bob leaned in the Gremlin’s open

window. “Want me to take a look?”

I jerked open the door, causing him to jump back. The hood creaked

as I released the latch. Black, thick oil and grime like a decaying corpse

covered the engine block. Wires stuck out everywhere, and damn if I could

make any sense of it.

Bob had followed me to the engine. He gave a soft whistle. “It looks

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like rats chewed through your battery cables.” Pulling out a red-coated wire,

he shook his head.

Not rats, hamsters. Angry sky-falling hamsters.

“I can maybe rig it so it’ll start.” Bob shrugged, his giant shoulders

bobbing up and down like the Golden Gate Bridge in an earthquake.

I closed my eyes, and took a Zen-calming breath. It didn’t help.

Fuck. “Do it.” I shoved another hundred dollars at him.

He glanced down at the money and smiled. “You ever hear the one

about the soldier and Saint Peter?”

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Forty Eight

“Okay boy, you hold that wire tight while I start her up.” Bob nodded

at the red wire clutched in my grease-coated hand.

I wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead. “I’m not going to get

fried, right?” As much as I wanted the Gremlin fixed, I couldn’t shake my

distrust of the overly friendly Bob. What kind of mechanic only charged a

hundred bucks?

Bob grinned at me and my perspiration covered sweatshirt. “You got

insurance?”

I shook my head. “The car’s not mine.”

“I meant life insurance, boy.” His booming laughter bounced off the

metal stacks of cars, making my head ache. “Now you hold tight,” he said,

crawling into the driver’s seat of the Gremlin.

A sudden shock of electricity curled around my body. My arms

danced, jerking like an electrocuted toad as the wire dropped from my burnt

fingers. The unattended wire sparked once, twice, and went still.

The Gremlin’s engine followed suit. It jerked once, twice, and with a

sputtering cough died. A slow whistle of steam burped from the radiator, but

that was the extent of its resurrection.

Fuck.

“Damn, I thought we had it.” Bob maneuvered his large frame from

the driver’s seat. “Did you let go of that wire, boy?”

I wiped my tingling hands on my pant leg. “Nope, I held tight just

like you said.” For the most part. “How about we try it one more time?”

“Fine.” Bob raised an eyebrow like he didn’t quite believe me. “But

if I see you let go of that wire, I’m gonna pound ya.”

I grinned. “Why don’t you hold it, and I’ll start her up?”

Instead of answering, he dropped back into the Gremlin and gave me

a thumbs up. I closed my eyes, grabbed the hot wire, and prepared for a few

thousand volts.

Buzz. Zap.

The skin on my fingers melted into the red-coated plastic. Pain

seared from the battery to my brain, every nerve ending sparking with

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General Electric power.

Bzzzzz. Crack.

The ends of my hair danced high above my head. Electrical sparks

shot from my toes, scorching my black leather boots and the ground beneath

them. My teeth slammed together, crunching under the brutal assault.

Boom!

Fire exploded underneath my hands, and the Gremlin vaporized

before my eyes. Simmering waves of hot air and a violent barrage of Gremlin

parts and Bob epidermis splattered me.

Fuck.

A bomb, I thought, seconds before blackness devoured me.

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Forty Nine

“What the fuck did you do to my car?” a woman screamed in my

newly restructured eardrums. The blast had scrambled all five of my senses,

and even addled my sixth sense.

I now saw dead people.

And boy did Lilith look angry. Beautiful, but pissed. But appearance

could be deceiving. Or not, I thought as the palm of her hand smacked me in

the back of the head.

“Lilith?” My voice sounded overused, like a teenaged girls favorite

CD. I rubbed away the black soot staining my eyes. Was I dead? Had the

explosion killed me?

“No, stupid.” Lilith chuckled, swiping at her mud covered sleeve.

“You’re not dead, and neither am I. Next time make sure the resurrection

didn’t take before you bury me.” She bent down beside me. “Your pant leg’s

on fire.”

“God, I missed you.” I slapped at the burning denim, and smiled.

Having her next to me felt right, like the world was finally in order. Of

course, I’d just cheated death, so that might have been part of it.

“I missed you too.” She pulled me to my feet, and held me while my

equilibrium caught up with the rest of my body.

My fingertips traced the curve of her neck, feeling the tattooed ink

under the pads of my fingers. The blood rushing in my ears dispersed lower,

filling my thoughts with lustful visions of Lilith naked under me.

Again she read my mind, and pushed my wayward hands away.

“Now’s not the time for a reunion. Someone just blew up my car.”

I weaved back and forth, shaking Bob parts from my ear canal. “And

Bob too.”

“Who’s Bob?”

“That’s Bob.” I pointed to a blackened spot on the ground where

pieces of charred Bob had landed. “He looked better before, but not by

much.”

Lilith shot me a look, anger burned in her eyes. “How can you joke?

You nearly died.”

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I shrugged. “I’m getting used to it. Bright white light. Sweet smell of

roses. Saint Peter and a harp.” Frowning, I added, “Tell me, when did

Heaven start smelling like a whorehouse?”

Softly Lilith’s hands brushed the battered, broiled skin of my face,

running over the edges with careful grace, or dare I think it, love. “Are you

sure you’re all right?” she asked, biting her lower lip.

No, I wasn’t all right. My dead lover was alive, leaving me with a

thousand questions and a million insecurities. What if our feelings had been a

fluke, a desire to protect the kid that turned into more? What did I really

know about my demon lover?

Smack. Lilith slapped me hard across the back. “Knock it off. We

don’t have time for this. We have to get you into hiding.”

I shook my head, focusing on her words. “Me? It’s the kid they’re

after. They want to use him to create…” I realized my mistake as I said the

words. The less the demonic Lilith knew about the prophecy the safer we’d

all be.

“Jace, I’m sorry.” Tears grew in her yellow eyes. “There’s so much I

have to tell you.”

“Tell me what exactly?”

The stench of sulfur swirled around us, thickening the already burnt

air.

“Later.” She grabbed my hand and dragged me over steel mounds of

automobile corpses, and tractor bones. “I’ll tell you everything later. Please,”

she added, voice breaking on the plea.

I nodded, and followed her across the wreckage of the junkyard.

With each step my need to know the truth receded, replaced with a frantic

desire to find and protect the kid. I broke into a run, leaving Lilith in my

wake.

I rounded a stack of burned out Pintos and stopped dead. On the

ground lay the angel, greenish blood pooling around his serene face. In the

angel’s arms was an empty kidsack. The kid and cat gone.

“Who did this?” I bent down next to the angel, wiping an aqua tear

from his perfect cheek. My eyes scanned the automobile graveyard, seeking

and searching for a target. Someone, anyone to blame, but the truth was

there, reflecting off the rusted metal bumped of a Volkswagen bus. Me. I was

the only one to blame.

I was the angel, Nemamiah. The protector of the innocent. And yet,

I’d lost the most innocent of all, not once, but twice.

Jesus, I sucked at this.

“Nemamiah, grant me one last wish…” the angel said in a choked

whisper. Blood spilled from his pearly pink lips, staining them a muddy

green.

Tire screeched a hundred yards in front of us. A white mini-van spun

around a row of junked cars and into the busy street. In the passenger seat, a

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bald-headed man with a tattooed wrist held the kid in his muscular arms. The

man grinned at me, a gold tooth shining from his mouth.

Fuck.

I started to run, pushing every ounce of energy through my limbs.

“What about my last request?” the angel called after me.

“Later,” I yelled, continuing after the mini-van.

“Jace, wait!” Lilith screamed, but I ignored her and kept running.

My legs took on a life of their own, muscles straining underneath

battered skin. I hit the street seconds after the mini-van rounded the next

corner.

Don’t fucking lose him, my brain ordered.

Five blocks from the junkyard, the mini-van took a left onto

Broadway. I ran behind, eating up the distance between us in the mid-

afternoon traffic. My appreciation for the city grew. Nobody went anywhere

fast. Unless faced with divine intervention—yeah right—I would not lose the

kid a second time.

A pain in my side formed just below my ribcage. Not intense, more

of a steady burn. The kind of burn marathon runners and escaping criminals

know all about. I shifted my gait to relive the pressure, and barreled ahead.

Even if it killed me, I wouldn’t let the kid down again.

The driver of the mini-van sped up, whipping around the avenue,