Holy Socks And Dirtier Demons (4 page)

Boy?
I laughed. “Does it matter?”

He grinned, stroking his goatee. “Not to me. Did you think you could

come into my club, and touch my woman without a little payback?”

“Your woman?” I smiled. “My mistake. I assumed she was a free

agent when she cupped my nuts on the dance floor.”

The first punch was expected. The second and third were a bit of

overkill, at least in my mind. Blood poured from a gash above my eye,

blinding me. I wiped it away with the sleeve of my corpse coat, my stomach

burning with rage and bile.

By the sixth and seventh hit, I had dropped to my knees. I wasn’t a

pussy. Hell, I’d taken my fair share of hits since reaching puberty, but this

was different. Something wasn’t right. I couldn’t move, couldn’t fight back.

It was as if some inhuman force had seized me.

“Nobody messes with one of Samuel’s toys,” the closest thug yelled,

bashing a steel pipe into my ribs. They cracked under the assault, puncturing

my left lung. Blood exploded from my mouth, showering the boss, Samuel.

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I would die here. I knew it, and so did he. Had Lilith? Was this all

some sort of setup to keep me from finding the kid?

Pop, pop, pop.

My knuckles crunched under his boot heel. The sound released me

from the trance I had slipped into, and I reacted by pulling my gun. Broken

and slick with blood, my fingers gripped the metal with complete calm.

“Don’t make me do it.” I chambered a round, aiming the weapon at Samuel’s

pretty-boy head.

He laughed a malicious sound that echoed off the blood-splattered

walls.

Fuck it. I fired the first round into his heart. Boom, boom, boom. I

fired until the click of metal against metal filled the room. A neat circle of

bullets, dead center of his chest, flowed with blood. His eyes went wide and

he dropped to the floor.

Revenge was sweet, but short lived. One of the remaining seven

thugs smashed a tire iron into my skull. Bolts of light flashed behind my

shattered eye sockets. A hollow ping echoed in the depths of my brainpan.

Blackness closed in, but before I died, I prayed the kid was safe.

~ * ~

“Owww!”

“Remain still.” The angel soared above me.

A warmth spread through my frozen limbs as my heart began to beat

again. I blinked, trying to focus. Where was I? It smelled like rotting flesh

and urine. Rats squeaked, fighting over putrid garbage, and cold wetness

seeped into my clothes.

Was I in the alley behind the club, tossed away like trash?

Those bastards.

“This job sucks.” I flexed my busted fingers. My bones and organs

healed, scabbing over before my eyes as the angel placed his hands on my

body. Why had I agreed to this? It wasn’t like I didn’t have a choice. I could

have walked away. I could have slammed the door in the angel’s face when

he showed up eight months ago.

“The final reward will be worth it,” the angel promised.

Yeah, right. I’d never see the pearly gates. After all, I’d broken every

single commandment and six of the seven deadly sins. Okay, who was I

kidding? I’d committed all seven sins, sometimes at the same time.

“What happened?” I changed the subject, not wanting to get into a

philosophical discussion of Heaven, pearly white gates, harps, and fluffy

white clouds, blah, blah, blah. Sounded somewhat lame if you asked me, but

of course, no one had.

“I do not know what happened to you.” The angel paused, touching

his hand to my head. “I found you here an hour ago.”

“I’ve been dead for an hour? Why didn’t you bring me back sooner?”

It was an odd thought. Not the death part, I’d long ago come to terms with

21

the Reaper, but the fact the angel had brought me back, again, sent chills

down my fractured spine. I’d had enough of this supernatural shit. I felt like a

zombie in those late night horror flicks. Would I now develop a taste for

brains?

“I tried to restore your life light, but at first your soul would not

comply.” The angel shrugged, as if my soul’s wishes were of little

consequence. “Not until I promised it a cookie.” From his robe, he pulled out

a chocolate chip cookie and handed it to me. “You must have made someone

exceedingly angry,” he added, scooping up bits of my brain and stuffing it

back inside my head while I carefully chewed my soul’s reward.

“No more so than usual.” I touched my skull, feeling the oozing

wound. “But something weird did happen. What do you know about this

place?” I gestured to the club.

“It is a pit.”

While it wasn’t my kind of club, I wouldn’t have called it a pit.

“Don’t be such a snob. I’m sure they serve Zima.”

The angel flushed. “Not that kind of pit. A hell’s pit. A den of

inequity. Satan’s lair.”

Anger washed over me. “And you’re telling me this now? That

information might have been useful.” I paused for effect. “Oh, I don’t

know… two hours ago.”

“You did not ask,” he huffed, placing a healing hand on the hole in

my head.

Once he let go, I shakily rose to my feet, ignoring the buzzing sound

inside my brain, a side effect to reanimation that disappeared in a few hours.

“Once I find the kid, I’m going to kick the feathers out of you.”

“If you find the child.” His words reverberated in my ears the entire

scooter ride home.

22

Six

We arrived back at my apartment at two in the morning. My front

door stood open. I reached for my nine-millimeter realizing two things, one, I

was out of bullets and two, whoever was inside didn’t care that I knew they

were there. The rational part of my brain suggested I proceed with caution.

So instead, I charged the door. Not the smartest of moves, but fifteen minutes

ago, rats had feasted on my brains, so I wasn’t exactly functioning on all

cylinders.

The intruder slept the sleep of the innocent on my stained sofa, her

black hair spilling across a cushion. One arm wrapped around her knees like

a child, Lilith looked peaceful and beautiful in the patchy moonlight.

I kicked the couch, sending a plume of dust mites into the air. “What

the fuck are you doing here?” Getting killed had changed my opinion of

women in general, and Lilith in particular. Fucking her was the last thing on

my mind. Well, maybe second to last. I wanted answers, and I wanted them

now.

She cracked an eyelid. “It’s been a rough night. Can this wait until

morning?”

“Rough night?” I booted the couch again. “Your boyfriend tried to

rearrange my face, and you had a rough night?”

She sat up, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “I see you

survived.”

That was it.

I lunged for her, wanting to wrap my hands around her skinny neck

and squeeze until her eyeballs popped out of her deceitful head.

She twisted away seconds before I made contact, leaving me groping

at thin air as I tumbled head first against the cushions. The sofa struck the

wall with a bang, and knocked a large chunk of plaster from the ceiling.

“There goes your security deposit.” The angel pointed to the falling

debris.

Could this night get any worse? It was a stupid question to ask,

because no sooner had it formed in my mind, then Lilith unsheathed a

wicked looking dagger from her garter belt. My eyes dropped to the creamy

23

skin of her thigh, roaming over the pale, toned flesh like a man dying of

thirst.

“You should work on controlling your baser impulses,” the angel

stated. “Lust is a sin.”

“So is duct taping a certain entity to a chair and shaving his head,” I

threatened, never taking my eyes from the girl with the knife. “What are you

doing here?” I asked her, as my last threads of energy and anger waned.

She held the knife in front of her, seeming leery of my sudden

change in demeanor. “I wanted to see where J.C. disappeared from.” She

paused, giving me a small smile. “I also wanted to apologize and make sure

you were all right.”

My rage surfaced again. She’d left me to die and now wanted to play

nice? And how the fuck did she know where I lived? “Don’t fucking lie to

me. You set me up, and now you’re here to finish the job your lover

couldn’t.”

She flinched. “No. Look, I’m sorry about tonight. I thought that if

Samuel saw me with another man he’d let go of the idea of us.”

Oh, he let go all right, about the same time my third bullet had

burrowed through his chest. “So you used me.”

“So I used you. I’m sorry.” She gave me a slow once over. “It all

worked out though. You don’t look any worse for wear.”

“Yeah. I’m feeling just great.” I took a breath, weighing how much I

needed her help. I couldn’t find the kid on my own. Damn. “No harm, no

foul.” She would pay, one way or another, but for right now, I’d hold my

tongue.

“Really?” She tilted her head. “I had you pegged for being stubborn.”

“Naw, I’m a pushover.” What I really was, was tired. Bone achingly

so.

“So can I stay?”

“Yeah.” I yawned, glancing at her filled to the brim duffel bag. “But

you’ll have to toss a coin for the couch.” I grinned, gesturing between her

and the angel, pretty sure who would come out the victor.

The angel started to argue, but I closed my bedroom door in his face,

and fell onto the bed. What was the harm in letting her spend one night?

~ * ~

“Morning.” Her cheery voice rang inside my head like a bad

seventies laugh track.

I looked around the kitchen and grunted. Yeah, it was morning. The

bright glare of the sun peeking in my grimy windows gave it away.

“Nice pj’s.” She glanced at me and smiled.

I blinked and followed her eyes downward, nothing but skin. I

shrugged, not caring one way or the other. It was too damn early for

modesty, and my head was stuffy from the night before.

“Coffee?” I sniffed the air, searching for the scent of roasting beans.

24

She stood, pulled a mug from a pile of dirty dishes in the sink, and

poured me a cup.

“Thanks.” Taking the cup from her hands, I noted the odd symbols

and shapes tattooed into her skin, a combination of Arabic and Sumerian

script. Exotic and beautiful, much like Lilith herself.

I took a sip of the dark brew, and spit it out in a spray of hot liquid.

“What the hell is this?”

She shrugged. “Black tea.”

“Tea?” I closed my eyes, remembering why I’d divorced my third

wife. She made me drink tea, said it was good for my mental health. I found

out later she’d been spiking it with anti-psychotics.

“I’ll make you a deal. You put on some pants and I’ll make coffee.”

She gave a vague wave to my genitals. “It’s too early in the day to face that

over the breakfast table.”

“Fair enough. I’ll be right back,” I said, disappearing into the living

room. On the floor, the angel laid curled next to the heater. I kicked him in

the butt as I passed. “For God’s sake, you’re a fucking angel and you

couldn’t win a coin toss.”

He rubbed his sleep-crusted eyes. “She hit me. I offered to flip a

coin, but she growled and struck me like some kind of animal.”

I liked this girl more and more. Too bad she drank tea and dated

demonic assholes.

Inside my bedroom, I searched through a pile of dirty laundry until I

located a pair of Levis that didn’t smell like baby puke and alcohol.

Five minutes later, I arrived in the kitchen, awaiting my promised

caffeine fix. Lilith sat at the table, twirling a shiny object in her fingers. A

cup of rich, black coffee sat across from her. She gestured for me to sit,

which I did. The table wobbled, and coffee splashed over the rim.

Dammit. I looked down.

“Looking for this?” She tossed a gold heart shaped medal at me. It

skidded across the table, and landed face up. The noble face of General

George Washington stared up from the purplish inlay.

I picked the medal up with a smirk and stuck it back underneath the

too short table leg. Once in place, the table stopped wobbling, a regular Mr.

Fix-it.

“Better.” I took a sip of my coffee and wiped the spill up with the

edge of my shirt.

She looked at me as if I was crazy. “That medal is a Purple Heart.”

I nodded.

“Is it your Purple Heart?”

I nodded again.

“Care to explain?”

I shrugged. “I was in the Army. I got hurt. They gave me a medal.

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