“That one.”
I turn around, noting the security who have been trailing us since we walked into the park. Whatever Doug and Dick said to Zeke when they escorted him between them was ensuring he keeps his mouth shut because Zeke hasn't tried to run or call for help. It may have helped he was trying to catch Lowell's eye the entire time, but whatever Lowell is feeling, he isn't making eye contact with Zeke. Emotions are running high everywhere.
"We can't do it in broad daylight.” Damien nods at my assessment and Dante presses a key into my palm. His withered hands feel like paper on my skin, and the curled fingers feel like twigs, clawing at my palms.
"I'll wait at the Italian Ice place on the corner of West 15th Street and Surf Ave. It is too hot out here.” With that, he turns and begins hobbling off.
I study the key in my palm. There's no use chasing after him, he won't be able to help us lift the pieces of the ride anyway. The key is just as rusted as the lock on the door and I wonder if it will break off in the lock when we try to open it. I'm also wondering how the heck we're going to get an entire amusement park ride out of storage, without anyone noticing. Before I get a chance to ask anyone if they have any light bulb moments about our problem, Officer Full-of-Himself and his partner Officer Awkward decide to buck up on some courage and question the sketchy looking biker gang about what we are doing.
"Problem here?" Officer F.O.H clears his throat. His question would have some more weight behind it if his voice hadn't cracked. His partner hikes up his pants, drawing our attention to his hip holster.
"Beat it, kid.” Charles steps up and I elbow Damien. Now is not the time for the incubus to work his mojo.
"Charles, that's not how we treat the officers of the law.” Damien starts laying the charm on thick and I'm still too preoccupied with how to commit grand theft to pay attention to how he handles getting us out of being criminally suspicious. I've spent time in the clink; anything they can nab us on would be a misdemeanor, if human prisons could actually hold us anymore. We'd still be out on bail within an hour. I do catch a snippet of the conversation though.
"Can't a motorcycle club enjoy a stroll on the boardwalk? We aren't harming anyone.” Ok, so Damien's going the diplomatic route.
"You're scaring the tourists,” the officer says.
"Yet I don't see how their discrimination and profiling is relevant to us being here.”
Both the officers play the fish out of water routine, sucking on air like they think it will help them inhale some answers. “Just move it along,” Officer Awkward finally commands.
What gets me is neither one of them thinks to ask Zeke if he is ok. This is clearly one of those situations where a man being manhandled by two ugly brutes is cause for concern, but the problem with society is, it is so focused on appearance, it doesn't pay attention to the problem right at hand. Not that I care.
I walk to where Leo and the girls are standing. If anyone can pull a heist, it's Leona. She ended up in the slammer for that very reason, although her Robin Hooding constituted paying her brother's medical treatments so even Hades took a hit to the sympathy bone on that one.
"You my girl on this?" I look into her eyes, hating seeing the confliction in the depths. Just like I'm trying not to turn the other cheek, she's working the, thou shalt not steal, debt off. I'm asking her to do the very thing I am; shun the sanctions of Satan.
"You need one of those moving trucks. Probably one you can rent by the day and return it anywhere in the U.S.,” she muses. She was caught skimming the books, but with her cleverness, I’m sure Higgins, her former employer had her pull a heist or two. It seems rude to ask though. How is it, demons who are feared for their strengths are suddenly standing on a boardwalk in New York about to employ them for a cause for good? This whole thing seems like an exercise in hypocrisy somehow.
"My thoughts exactly.” At least we agree to be hypocrites together.
"There's a rental company just up the street from the DMV.”
It's a good thing Fae is more astute than I am. I didn't noticed it on the walk in. Those big orange and white trucks serve one purpose when I'm riding the road; to piss me off. Nearly half the time, the person who rented it doesn't know how to drive it and the other half are the paid drivers of the company and they don't give a rat's ass about their, "how's my driving" sticker on the bumper.
"Anyone know how to drive one?" I look at my crew and when I get blank stares, I resign myself to turn to Damien and company. No one here is willing to give up their bike's, which leaves James, Lowell, Zeke, and Marty. I don't think Zeke and Lowell are in the mood to help us help them get to Hell, so that leaves James and Marty.
"I hauled back in the day,” Marty steps forward.
"Illegal immigrants don't count,” Charles states.
"Damien, do you tell all your boys who is marked for damnation?" There's no use arguing with Charles so I turn on the one person who is responsible for his quip.
"It's our job, Catriona. Marty is an exceptional case, just like you and your girls. Who knows, maybe Daddy will grant him a pardon, as he did with you, or not. Not unless we overthrow him anyway. I have a feeling your invitation for atonement has been revoked.”
I'm about to open my mouth and insert my foot when Marty says, "I don't regret giving those kids a ride to a new, better home. Legalities aside, it don't mean I don't have the skills to drive the truck.”
He's got a point. I knew I didn't argue with Lowell about the ride along from the bar to begin with. Pats on the shoulder to me. It also makes me feel better. At least someone got some licks in. I’m tired of being beat on by the Hounds.
"Alright, cool.” Marty’s growl is resolute. He would make a badass TomHellcat if I can beat Damien to him first.
"Not cool! Marty, you can't--" Lowell pushes Charles aside who snarls at him.
Damien waves his hand and Charles' jaw snaps shut. At least he has a leash on the dude. Even if it is a short one.
"I told your Gigi I'd do right by you, Lowell. Your brother made his choices. I'm not going to let her down now. It ain't right. Zeke's gonna have to pay like we all do someday. But I'm not letting you take the fall for it.” Marty's voice is low and earnest.
"Me either.” James steps in and now don't we have a big old boardwalk bonding going on?
I begin walking back to the DMV. There's not a lot Zeke and Lowell can do to stop the plan to get back into Hell, but the further I walk away, the louder I hear Zeke's protests. His whining is a sure-fire way to get under my skin and I have so much to deal with right now, I just can't listen to it.
"Hey, boss. Once we get the truck, what's next in the plan?" Fae jogs up to my right.
"Tabby's going to play her part with those two officers we had the pleasure of meeting.” My plan is coming into focus. It’s a risky one, but at least I have one. Dress up like an officer then who is going to question law enforcement removing something? Not unless they want to get busted themselves.
"Really?" Tabby looks excited and I'm pretty sure the fact she doesn't have the look of regret, indecision, and self-loathing like the rest of us do, means she should have a one-way ticket to the circle of Lust. She's got her reasons for doing what she did as a prostitute, just like the rest of us who go to bed at night with our motivations; but damn, girl, lasso the libido.
"Yeah. We need their uniforms.”
Tabby's eyes light up and she hikes up her already way too short shorts and cups her chest, fluffing her fun so when she skips down the boardwalk in front of us and approaches the officers, I bear witness to modern feminism at its finest. Can't judge her if she's having fun and accepting herself the way she is, right?
As I turn back onto the street and walk to the truck rental company store, I feel like this whole fleece is being committed in the name of farcical fun. It's also how I end up riding as the front escort of a rented moving truck on the highway to Maine. Once there, we will find one of the most secluded portals to the Underworld existing in the U.
S. Our party consists of a stolen amusement park ride, two hostage twin brothers, a theology professor, a smuggling truck driver, a rheumatic prophetic poet, and two rival motorcycle gangs from Hell escorting the whole ensemble from the rear.
Life may be a highway, but riding it all night long with this much anxiety is starting to chafe.
11
We have to pull Tabby out of a vortex of passion and lust. Not something I really want to be doing on such a nice night, but I should have predicted this might happen, given her proclivities. When midnight rolls around, the whole party is standing in the parking lot of the DMV waiting for Tabby to get back with a couple of capered cop costumes. I begin to get worried when she still hasn't turned up. I mean, I know the idea of a threesome is the new vanilla sex, but there's getting down and dirty with your job and then…yeah.
"Who wants to draw straws to go and pull her out?" I turn to everyone. Queue the awkward foot shuffling. It's been strange enough standing juxtapose between Lowell and Zeke, knowing I should be talking to Zeke and I should be apologizing to Lowell and also knowing they should be talking to each other. Communication is clearly not our forte. What the heck am I going to say to either one of them? "Hey, thanks for tagging along on our nefarious plan. Hopefully only one of you ends up dead, but it will most likely be both of you?" It's not exactly the most encouraging topic of conversation to bring up.
Fae spends her time making sure her bike is secured. With the bolts loose on the ride over to the East Coast, the last thing we need is to lose Zeke out of the sidecar before we can get the mark switched from him to Lowell. I don't think we're going to get him back in the coffin without making a scene and we don't want to draw more attention to ourselves than we already have.
Twice now, police cruisers driving down the street have slowed and given us the stink eye for being in the parking lot. But since there's no sign declaring ‘no loitering,’ we haven't been doing anything wrong. Dick and Doug make sure Zeke is well aware if he indicates in any way there is something amiss, they'll make doggy treats out of him. There is some teeth-baring and low-key macho growling which, queue the eye rolls.
"I'll go and collect her,” Damien says.
"You'd just end up joining them and the last thing we need is to be standing around here for another hour. Anyone else?"
"Catriona, please give me credit where it is due. Only an hour?" He winks at me and it's decided.
I toss my keys to Leona in case anyone needs to move Sugar and begin walking back to the Boardwalk.
I focus on the task at hand, not really wanting to see my girl in the buff in the middle of the element, but we really do need to get going. The last I'd seen Tabby as I walked away, she was talking with the officers just outside a small communications center. It's probably a small mobile unit, which works in tandem with the precinct down the road, but I am willing to bet the party started there and Tabby may or may not have taken it to one of the storage facilities. Ugh, why am I about to commit one of the worst sins known to mankind, coitus interruptus?
I hear footsteps behind me and turn around to find Damien walking up the sidewalk to join me.
"I've got this. Go make sure the troops don't tear each other apart.” I turn away from him.
"I have no doubt you can make everyone fall in line, Catriona. The problem is I can sense my father's presence here.”
It makes me take pause. More Drudes? "What are you talking about? We're all demons. Of course, you can sense us.” I look around like I am about to see Satan himself slink out of the shadows, but when I look up and see Damien frowning in the direction of the police kiosk, I have to ask. “What is it?"
My stomach lurches when he begins running to the kiosk. I glance over my shoulder and see Charles running up to us too. I feel like it is never a good omen when an Incubus looks worried. His face is pinched and his eyes are fixated on the opening at the end of the street where it meets the boardwalk.
Sand lightly blows down the street at us. It makes me think of waves washing up at the far end of the beach when the tide comes in. It creeps closer and closer and I just know if we touch it, the effect of whatever is about to happen will sweep over us as vast as the ebb and flow of the ocean.
"Will someone tell me what is going on?" My words come in short clips as we sprint down the street. I knew smoking back in Limbo was bad for my health. Charles has caught up to me and we sprint to join Damien, but we slow to a jog now and I have this feeling like I really don't want to see what's at the end of this street, but I know whatever it is, Tabitha is in there and I have to get her out. She didn't ask to do this; I volunteered her for the job.
"Charles, I will handle him. Go back and tell the others to take the truck directly to the storage facility. There's no cause to worry about who sees you now.” Damien's nose crinkles and he shakes his head like he's trying to get rid of a mental block.
"I can handle--" Charles starts to say.
I feel like Tora with the whole lot of clueless going on.
"I said go. He has power over you.” Charles stops and stiffens then begins walking back to the waiting ensemble.
"And don't touch the sand!" Damien calls to his back.
"Why?" I ask, even despite my hesitancy to walk on it myself, I wonder what will happen. Then I think about Leona's part in all of this. If she gets caught stealing again, it will be on me both here in the realm of humanity and Hell. I advocated for Leo and my other girls to be pardoned; I need to keep my promise. With Damien changing the plan, I don't see how I can.
"Wait just a minute. If you're going to change the plan then--" I grab Damien's arm and spin him to me, stopping his progress to the pier. He looks at my hand on his bicep and I drop it. It’s confusing because just for a moment, the briefest of seconds, I care about what he might be facing at the end of the street. Why though? Men are not high on my list of priorities, but Damien saved me. Is this why I am inclined to return the favor? His eyes are kind and I’m doubly confused as to what is going on when he smiles at me. His tone, however, is full of concern.
"My father has sent the one person who can control Tabby because of her vices. Your subtle plan has backfired. We should have taken the ride and left immediately instead of hatched an intricate scheme giving Hell time to catch up to us. When are you going to learn, Catriona? Satan doesn't need to follow the rules. He can be as blasé as he wishes.”
"Who did he send Damien?" I can feel my cheeks get hot. I hate him calling me out on my one iota of decency in my demonic demeanor.
"Asmodeus.”
I clench my fingers that were just gripping his arm. Asmodeus. One of the princes of Hell. One of Damien's uncles in a sense. The demon in charge of the circle of Lust.
"Damn it.” I glance at the beach and bite my lip. I understand what’s going to happen if we touch the sand. Like the sands of time, lust is a delicate and intricate caress of not just the physical senses, but more so the mental faculties. It makes sense it is creeping toward us, inching slowly along the pavement, like the crawl of a wanton lover begging for attention. It is ominous and resplendent at the same time, like the silence of a tsunami about to wash over us and carry us away in its beautiful, chaotic destruction.
"Tabby is damned. Asmodeus has wanted to get his hands on her since she stepped foot in Hell.” He glances back up the street.
I notice for the first time the streets are eerily quiet. It isn't what I would expect coming from Asmodeus' presence. I expect there to be more of a pornstar atmosphere banging out on the beach, but even with the late evenings diminishing tourist numbers, all I can hear is the bustle of trash blowing down the sidewalks and the scampering of little feet in alleyways to my left and right. With Asmodeus here, I wonder if the city will see an influx in the rodent population in about a month.
"Then what's the plan? How are we going to get out of this one?" Lust is a tricky sin. It's everywhere and it doesn't necessarily mean lusting after the flesh. Whatever is happening out on the boardwalk can be
any number of things. I shudder at the thought, bloodlust being at the top of my worst fears of what we're going to find. On average, humans walk past a murderer eight times in their lifetimes.
"We're going to pull an old trick from my father's book.” We begin walking again and I brace myself for the moment I step foot on the beach.
"Which is what?"
"We're going to offer him a deal. A better one than just a measly second-floor suite in Hell.”
Why do I suddenly feel like teaming up with Damien is the "I'm in too deep" realization? Most likely because unleashing Asmodeus on humanity would put the human population in for a world of hurt.
“Do you really think this is a good idea?" I ask as we're about to make the first contact with the sands blowing up the street from the beach.
"It's the only plan.” I consider this and pause just before stepping onto the first grains. I don't know if it is me psyching myself up, thinking because I am a fellow demon nothing will happen, but when I step onto the sand about a block away from the beach, nothing happens. And then it all hits me at once, buckling my knees and making me sink to the pavement. The grains dig into my knees, causing pain to spike through my joints. But it is nothing compared to the wave of lust that hits me. The desire for…for freedom hits me so hard, it cripples me. I look up at Damien and feel the scalding tears pouring down my cheeks. He has to understand, he needs to understand. Trapped in an eternity in the Underworld as his co-ruler is my definition of torture. I crawl to him, not fully comprehending the revulsion I feel for myself as I clutch at the bottom of his t-shirt.
"Please!" I tilt my head back and my lips tremble. His face is a blur, but I can just make out the features of shock and horror as he cups my face between his hands. “Please.” How do I express how much he has to understand what I need? Freedom. The very depths of what remains of my soul aches for it.
Before I can start to babble, plead some more, he bends over and scoops me into his arms. The instant feeling of relief overwhelms me and I feel my head loll back as I look up at the stars. I feel a buzz in my head, past the fog remaining from my lust for freedom, and somehow Damien is unaffected by walking on the sand. How is this possible? The question becomes lost in my will to battle myself as I try to cut through the haze. The ache has always been there, but the effect of Asmodeus has multiplied the feeling tenfold. I close my eyes against the stars, the yearning for the freedom to be as vast as the Heavens comes with gazing upon them, and my heart hurts too much right now knowing I can't have that.
Highway to Hell Page 14