Holy Socks And Dirtier Demons (6 page)

BOOK: Holy Socks And Dirtier Demons
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nation’s dependence on dairy—”

I flipped the radio off, and rubbed my five o’clock shadow. “Do you

want to talk about what happened back there?”

“Not really, but I will if you insist.”

“I insist.”

She sighed loudly. “Fine. Mary.”

That was it. Mary. Was it supposed to mean something? “What about

her?”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Her eyes widened. The sun reflected off

her black pupils, and a stirring of something deep inside me grew. Fear?

Lust? Evil?

Lilith braked hard and pulled into an empty alleyway. She stopped

the car, got out, and started pacing.

I stepped out too, but wearily. “Are you jealous?”

Her cat-eyes exploded into burning amber embers. “Jealous?” Her

31

fist caught me in the solar plexus.

I doubled over, trying hard not to puke. “What the fuck was that

for?”

“Do you know the danger you’re in?” She bent down next to me,

raising my face to meet her eyes.

I pushed her away. “No, and you do?” Danger? I’d lost God’s kid.

How much more danger could I be in? Hell might be too nice of a place for

me once the Big Guy got word of how badly I’d fucked up.

“Don’t trust anyone, not even your own eyes. Forces are at work.

Evil forces sent to—”

I cut her off with a wave. “Destroy me and the very universe. Yeah,

I’ve heard it before.”

“This isn’t a joke.”

“I never said it was.” I straightened, sucking in a polluted breath of

city air. “While I appreciate your concern, I don’t need it. What I do need is

to find the kid, and find him fast. So you either help me with that, or leave

me the fuck alone.”

“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I smiled. A warning I could live with. Another fist into the gut, and

she and I would have problems.

32

Nine

Thirty minutes later, the Gremlin pulled to the curb of the Ministry of

the 2nd Coming Church of Latter Day Southern Baptists, or MCCLDSB for

short, even though the acronym wasn’t all that short.

The building looked like any other on the Upper East Side; Madison

Avenue wealth mixed with 5th Avenue pretension. Decorated in floor to

ceiling stained-glass, the church resembled a whorehouse, but without the

fun.

“Your ex works here?” I shielded my eyes from the intense glare

reflecting off the brightly colored building. Lilith didn’t strike me as a church

going gal, and she seemed too young to have been married and divorced. But

then again, I’d been married three times in my thirty-three years on Earth. So

what did I know?

“Yeah. He wasn’t always a saint.” She winked once, and climbed the

stairs to the double brass church doors.

I followed behind, watching the hustle and flow of the congregation.

People smiled serenely at Lilith but didn’t approach, almost as if we had a

protective bubble of jaded religiosity.

“Where is he?” She motioned to a smiling poster of a cap-toothed

minister with bleached blond hair and a plastic grin.

A woman with the same affected smile answered, “He’s preparing

for tonight’s sermon on the sins of the flesh. Sex outside the marriage bed is

a sure path to damnation.”

I hoped so. What fun would it be otherwise? I tried to get Lilith’s

attention, but she barreled through the flock. She was a woman on a mission.

I caught up to her a few seconds later as she opened a heavy wooden

door and slipped inside. A shout of surprise sounded, followed by a squeak

of pain.

Fearing for her safety, I rushed in, only to find the blond minister

holding his bloody nose, and a girl probably no older than sixteen on her

knees in front of him.

Lilith helped the girl to her feet, said something in a sharp voice, and

punched the reverend again, this time in the nuts. He dropped like a brick,

33

eyes rolling back into his head.

“Jace. Meet the esteemed minister, Adam Just, my sleazy ex-husband

and all around rat bastard.” She punctuated the statement with a kick to his

ribs.

“It’s a pleasure.” I took two steps into the richly decorated room,

gently closing the door behind the parting teenager. I guess God paid well.

“So should we ask for his help now or wait until his testes crawl back down

from his throat?”

She laughed. “Oh, he’ll help us. Don’t worry about it.” Walking

around the reverend’s desk, she plopped into his chair and tapped a few keys

on his computer keyboard.

I took the time to study Adam. He wasn’t what I had expected. The

bad-boy, Samuel, from last night’s beat-down seemed much more Lilith’s

style. This guy looked like every mother’s wet dream, an MBA with good

genes and a healthy disposable income. He was older than Lilith too, much

older, maybe mid-forties.

“How long were you married?” I bent down, and lifted Adam’s

eyelid. Whiteness stared back.

“Less than two months,” she responded. “I came home and found

him fucking a girl five years younger than me, and worse, she was enjoying

his fumbling a hell of a lot more than I ever did.”

“Ouch.”

She shook her head. “You know what I got in the divorce settlement?

A burial plot in Hebron. That’s it. I get to spend all eternity planted next to

this asshole.” Her fingers waved to the floor and the man groaning on it.

“And his trophy wife, Eve, who—get this—changed her name from Emily so

they could create a religious empire.”

“I hear Hebron’s nice this time of year.” I tried for funny, but the

glare she shot me said I missed the mark. “So if he’s such a prick. Why are

we here?”

“Never underestimate the faithful. In this case, I mean the morons

who hang on Adam’s every word. They are like an army of informants, all

ready to squeal on thy neighbor at the drop of a hat.”

“What makes you think they’ll know anything about the kid?”

She glanced up at me, speaking slowly as if to a child. “What makes

you think they won’t?”

My lips tightened. “Before we go any further, you have to promise

me something.”

She nodded, looking like a little girl playing dress up, who is not

quite sure how to walk in high heels.

“No more answering questions with a question. From now on, when I

ask you something, I want a straight answer. None of this Zen bullshit.”

Relief flashed in her eyes. “Whatever you say, Grasshopper.”

I rubbed my chin, debating just how long a stint I would serve if I

34

strangled her, surely not more than twenty years. Hell, with God as a

character witness I might get out in ten.

Beep.

The desktop computer drew my attention. Lilith tapped a couple

more keys. “Bingo.” She hit print, and out shot a flyer with the kid’s picture

on it.

“Where did you get that?” I pointed to the paper.

She tossed her black hair and smirked. “I’m more than just a pretty

face.”

I took a menacing step toward her.

“Fine. Social Services. They keep track of all children in foster care,

especially those places with… less than desirable foster parents.” She

emphasized the last part for my benefit.

Like Social Services, I knew just how undesirable a parent I was. Just

last week, I fed the kid a box of cat chow for dinner. In my defense, cat was

spelled kat, like kit-kat, so it was a mistake any parent could make.

“You hacked the foster care computer?” I wondered what else she

could do. Maybe erase a few traffic tickets?

“Not really.” Her eyes sparkled. “Adam runs an orphanage, so his

computer is linked to the mainframe. I just used his username and password

to get in.”

“And how did you know his username and password?”

“BigManlyMan and GodsRightHand. Real tough. I was married to

the guy after all.” She pushed from the desk, stood, and wandered to the

puddle of Adam lying on the floor. “Wake up.” She smacked him on the

forehead, none too lightly.

“Ahaaaaa.” Adam’s eyes watered, but at least he was conscious.

“I’m looking for a fourteen-month-old boy, and I need your help.”

“Fuck you.” He shoved her away.

Off balance in a pair of six-inch black leather platform boots, Lilith

teetered before tipping backward onto Adam’s desk. The helpful computer

flipped off the edge, and crashed onto the floor. Glass shattered and Adam

shrieked.

I grabbed Lilith, steadying her before advancing on Adam. He

labored to his feet, swaying back and forth while gripping his package.

Being a guy, I felt almost sorry for him. Almost. I smacked my fist

into his stomach, and he dropped to the floor once more.

“We’re going to try this again. A child is missing, and you’re going

to help us find him, or else I’m going to rip you apart.”

“Who are you?” he wheezed.

Lilith answered, “Sorry. Adam, you know Nemamiah, the righter of

injustice, and protector of the innocent. Remember, he destroys evil pricks

like you who prey on innocence?”

I choked. That damn name. I raised a questioning eyebrow. If she

35

knew that name, what else did she know? Did she know about the kid? Or

more importantly, why the hell was the kid given to me for protection? And

why the fuck everyone believed I was Nemamiah in the first place? I decided

to play along, acting the angel part even if it dammed me.

“Now is not the time.” Her eyes bore into my quizzical ones. I gave a

small nod, letting it go for the moment.

“Nemamiah? Really?” Adam licked his lips.

Exposed and dirtied by the look in his eye, I shook my head to rid

myself of the feeling. What had Lilith seen in this douche? “No, I just go

around telling people that. Now tell us what you know about the child before

I—”
What did angels do? Blow fire? Play really bad harp music?

“One of my flock reported seeing a glowing child, but I didn’t pay

him much mind.” He wiped the drying blood from his face. “He claimed the

child turned a gallon of milk into whiskey, but what kind of miracle is that?”

I grinned. I’d taught the kid that trick. “Where did he see the kid?”

But I answered my own question, thinking back to the news report I heard on

the radio. “Newark.” Hell’s own lair.

Lilith’s

face

paled.

“We

need

bigger

guns.”

36

Ten

I drove the Gremlin through the deserted streets of Newark, New

Jersey, with trepidation. Lilith, in the seat next to me, flexed her fingers on a

big-ass gun, a .50 caliber Smith & Wesson Magnum 500 big-ass gun. This

gun could take out a brick wall, three bodies, and a cow if fired right.

“It’ll be okay.” I glanced at her for the tenth time, reassuring her

more than myself. After all, I had nine lives and a moronic angel to watch my

back. What did Lilith have? Me. Yep, she was good as fucked.

“Stop saying that!” The crack of her palm against my jeans clad leg

emphasized her desire for me to shut up. “Let’s just find the child and get the

hell out of here.”

While that was my plan, I couldn’t help but think it would be nice to

know who pulled the strings. Neutralize that threat, and I’d have no more

worries.

The obvious answer was Satan, but why? And why now? The Alpha

and the Omega guaranteed one thing, real estate prices in hell were about to

skyrocket.

“Pull in there.” Tapping the Jesus GPS planted in the dashboard of

her Gremlin, Lilith grinned, and then pointed to a dark underground parking

garage in the worst section of the city. Even the cops refused to stumble

around down there.

I did as she asked, braking hard as we slipped through the concrete

structure. “You’ll be able to track the kid?”

She nodded, pulling the Jesus GPS from the dashboard. It resembled

a cell phone but thinner. We exited the car, taking a minute to adjust to the

stench of New Jersey, and car exhaust. Once we got our bearings, she booted

the GPS up, and blinked at the glaring beaming of light that burst from it.

I jumped back, afraid of being burned by the whiteness. The light

circled the car, and exploded into fifteen different glowing pinpoints.

One of the beams shot through my chest. An odd feeling, sort of like

a caress, but amplified by a couple thousand volts. It wasn’t exactly painful,

but it also wasn’t a feeling I’d want to repeat. The light winked out after a

few seconds, and I felt saddened by the departure.

37

“What the hell was that?” I rubbed at the place where human had met

flashlight.

“Have you ever heard the saying: God works in mysterious ways?”

BOOK: Holy Socks And Dirtier Demons
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