But the damage was already done. Demons have many instincts. The most dangerous one we possessed, however, was survival. I'd been attacked with a weapon. The dimwitted human was dead, he just didn't know it yet.
Crouched on the ground, my left arm shot into the air and grabbed his arm just in front of his elbow. With a twist of my wrist, the joint snapped, and the knife went flying into the group of guys standing by the wall sipping beer and watching the show. From there, I stood and brought my right hand straight up, and just before it got close to the soft underside of his chin, my hand shifted into a demonic claw. I curled my fingers into a fist, all but one finger. The claw pierced his flesh, impeded by his tongue, and pierced the roof his mouth. Stopping just short of killing him, I turned to face him and drank in the fear wafting from him, thicker than the combined lust of the club.
"You couldn't stop. You just had to show me how big of a man you were. And then, when I showed you how very small you were, you couldn't live with that, could you? You had to be bigger and badder. And now look where we are." Exerting a bit more pressure, I lifted him up onto the tips of his toes as he struggled not to let my talon pierce the last inch into his brain.
"I would let this be a lesson, but I can tell no matter how many times you are taught, you wouldn't learn. So, I'm going to finish you right here and now. Goodbye, human," I snarled, and started to drive my finger into his brain. Until Alana's hand rested gently on my arm.
"Don't. Please."
I felt the heat leave my eyes as I turned to look at Alana's sweet face. "Why?"
"Because you're not a killer."
I almost argued with her, until I saw the look she was giving me. Imploring. Pleading. Letting my hand shift, I lowered douche nugget to the floor and pulled my normal looking finger from his wound with a wet squelch, letting him drop to the floor at my feet.
"Come on, let's go home."
Chapter 20
The police had different plans for me.
The only thing we had going for us is that we weren't in Bickering. A lieutenant was glowering at me, but he wore a Salem PD uniform, and was nowhere near as good looking as Grendel.
Even though Michel had given his account of the events that had occurred in the club and told them I'd only been defending myself, I was still handcuffed, and the only warm part of my body was my ass as I leaned against the running squad car.
"We're going to find the weapon, you know."
No, you're not. "Good luck."
"Did he stiff you on a blowjob or something?"
"Seriously. Go fuck yourself. I told you what happened, you donut sucking, coffee slurping, fat sack of shit." Probably not the wisest thing to say to a police officer, but I was about three seconds away from snapping the cuffs and putting my hand through his belly and pulling his nuts through the hole. I found that thought much more sexually appealing than unleashing my lust on him.
"Fuck you, whore."
That earned him a headbutt, and me a nightstick from another officer to the side of the head. Totally worth it. "You couldn't get laid in a morgue, you fat fuck."
The officer who smacked me in the head accidentally laughed, then coughed to cover his amusement before he pissed off the lieutenant.
"Put her in a cell," The lieutenant snarled at Mr. Giggles.
"On what charge?" I snarled.
"Resisting arrest."
"Good luck with that. I'm already in cuffs, fuckhead."
"Oh, I'm sure I can come up with any number of charges. Including prostitution and attempted murder."
The two people who had walked up behind the incredibly stupid lieutenant blinked in surprise and coughed to let him know they were there.
"What the fuck do you want?" The lieutenant growled and turned around angrily, stopped, and backed up until he stood beside me. I debated swinging my legs around his neck and choking him out, but I probably would have gotten shot before it happened. Plus, he might have liked it. "Chief?"
"Lieutenant." He shouldered the man aside and stepped beside me, checking the rapidly healing lump on the side of my head. "Are you okay?" The chief was graying, but didn't appear to be that old. He was certainly younger than me, but I aged better.
"I'll live."
"As your attorney, I advise you not to say another word, Ms. Dell." The other well-dressed gentleman moved a little closer.
"My attorney?"
"Well, technically, I am on retainer to Michel, but he has put you under his blanket of protection."
If Michel gets me out of this mess, that ain't the only blanket I'm going to be under. I giggled at the thought. The chief pulled a set of handcuff keys out of his pocket and motioned to my wrists, unlocking the steel restraints with practiced ease. "On behalf of the Salem PD, I offer you our humble apologies for the actions of our former lieutenant."
"Chief?" The fucktard was practically shaking behind his boss.
He spun and rounded on the man. "You are suspended pending an investigation." Then he put his finger in the man's face, put his mouth next to the lieutenant's ear, and began a litany of hushed angry whispers. His eyes widened with each of the chief's words, until the man couldn't take any more and started fighting back the tears.
"What just happened?" I whispered the question to my new lawyer.
"The knife you knocked out of the assailant's hand hit the chief's son in the leg. He's the one over there in the ambulance getting bandaged up. You got lucky. He told his dad exactly what happened. Looks like my services weren't even needed. Daddy doesn't want any of this in the papers, but better safe than sorry." He pulled out a card from the pocket of his wool trench coat and handed it to me. "Pleased to meet you. Call me if you have any more problems."
"Oh, I will. Thank you…" I paused to look at his card, "Mr. Davies."
"Call me Joseph."
"Thanks, Joseph."
He nodded and headed for the club, presumably to let Michel know what transpired. I grinned at the lieutenant, saluted Officer Giggles, and went to find my girlfriend. I found her leaning against my SUV, crying and talking to Daniel and Brady.
"Hey, kids."
"Kara!" Alana became a blonde blur as she practically tackled me, kissing my face. Brady and Daniel were chuckling at her exuberance, but I could see the tension ease from their faces.
"What happened?" Brady's voice cracked.
"Wrong place, wrong cop. I was screwed six ways from Sunday until the chief and my lawyer showed up."
"You have a lawyer already?" Daniel couldn't hide his surprise.
"Apparently."
"Well, come on. Let's get you home. You can tell us what happened in the bar when we get there. My sister tried, but she was a little hard to understand through the wracking sobs."
"Come on, Kitten. Let's go home.
∞ ∞ ∞
"So, how much is this going to cost me?"
The demiurge stroked his long goatee and adjusted his glasses as he surveyed the damage to my studio. "Kara…this won't be cheap."
I sighed, fearing those exact words. In the human realm, I was comfortable. Upper middle to lower upper class as far as finances were concerned. I would have been more comfortable if I didn't buy a second house and the dance studio. However, the demiurge wasn't interested in human finances. They dealt in power. "How much?"
The demon pulled out a calculator from his finely tailored suit. I thought he was going to start crunching numbers right there on the sidewalk, but little puffs of smoke shot from each key as he punched in figures. He was calculating how much magic it would take to renovate my studio. When he was done, he whistled and shook his head sadly at me.
Without a word, he put the palm of his right hand against my forehead. His power swirled inside me, into my depths. It wasn't unpleasant, but it wasn't exactly foreplay, either. When he finished, he patted me on the head. "More than you can spare, little one. I am sorry." He turned and started to leave.
"More than I have on me."
He stopped in h
is tracks and looked over his shoulder as a couple walking down the sidewalk gave him a wide berth. To them, he probably looked like a well-dressed businessman. To me, he had long, spiky purple hair and a grin that split his face from ear to ear, filled with pointed yellow teeth. That grin was on full display, pleased at my words. "You have a hoard?"
"What the fuck kind of demon would I be if I didn't?"
"A normal one. For one as young as you are to have accrued power and not squandered it is unusual."
The truth was, I had delved into it. Going without eating for so long, I hadn't had a chance. But I'd only skimmed a bit off the top to survive and keep the dreams at bay. My unwillingness to take any more had been my motivation to get out of bed and actually do something with my life. "How much more do you need?"
"Double what you have. Half to fuel the magic and the other half as payment."
It was doable. About half my hoard, but he didn't need to know that. "Deal." I held out my hand to seal it.
He looked down at my palm, and I could tell he was regretting his quote. He should have asked for more. With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he put his hand over mine and drew a dagger from the air and plunged it through them. I could feel his blood mingle with mine, and a flair of power blasted the dagger from existence. It was much more elegant than a file folder full of documents that needed to be signed.
"Payment up front, little one."
I motioned for him to follow me into the alley between the buildings. Even decrepit, the studio was mine and tied to my power. It was one of three places on earth, and one in hell, that I could access my funds, for lack of a better word. Letting the index finger of my right hand extend into a clawed talon, I etched a rune into the brick and plunged my hand inside. The power followed it out, and I shut it off when I had enough swirling in my hand.
The demiurge licked his lips and stared at the glowing red mist. "Exactly as it looked before."
"Yes, yes. I shall turn back time and make it as it once was."
I held out the ball of power to him.
He grabbed it with both hands and drew it to his chest, his head swaying in ecstasy as he shoved it through his gray pinstriped suit. He stood quietly as he made my power his own. When he finally opened his eyes, they were alit with purple fire. "The rest?"
I debated trying to hold out until the work was complete, but he had demanded payment up front. With little else to do, I offered him my neck.
Wrapping me in long, spindly arms, he enveloped me in his darkness and pierced my flesh with his wicked teeth. I hissed in pain, and then in pleasure, as he drank his full, leaving me weak.
"Enough," he bellowed, and licked my blood from his lips before releasing me. "Go. I shall set your spells and tomorrow, your precious building will be whole."
And hopefully, everyone in the neighborhood will buy my story about night contractors. It was a gamble, but I wanted everything back to normal. And once I had accrued enough lust to fill what he had taken, I was going to ward the place to within an inch of its life. I had done my home the minute I had power to spend. I should have done the studio, too.
"Thank you."
"Go."
I left him in the alley and ducked back out into the sunlight, shielding my eyes and putting my sunglasses back on.
"Please tell me that wasn't a drug deal."
I squeaked and spun, almost slashing the lieutenant, my lieutenant, across the chest with my claws. "You scared the fuckjuice out of me. Jeez, Grendel."
"Josh Grindel. We've been over this. Were you dealing drugs in that alley?"
"Uh. No. Why? You want some?"
He shook his head, and the smallest of smiles graced the farthest corners of his mouth. But he didn't take the bait and frowned. "Then who was he?"
"Who?"
"Gangly guy?"
"My contractor."
"In an Armani suit?"
"He's kind of pricey. But he gets the job done quickly."
"How quick?"
"He has a team coming in tonight. I might be open very soon."
"Huh. How much does he charge? I have a wall I need to replace in my garage. The hot water heater blew." He started toward the alley, but I stopped him with an outstretched hand.
"Trust me. You can't afford him."
He narrowed his eyes at me. "Please tell me you didn't fuck him as payment."
The lieutenant sounded angry. Much angrier than he should have sounded. Almost like he was jealous. That, I could work with. "I'll pretend you didn't just call me a whore. But to answer your question, no. I didn't." I wasn't disgusted, but I pretended to be and stomped off. It was the only thing I could think of to get him to stop asking questions I couldn't answer.
"Kara. Wait." It was his turn to stop me with an outstretched hand. "Sorry. It was the only thing that popped into my head when you said I couldn't afford it." He paused after he finished talking, staring at his hand on my arm and not removing it.
"So, you called me a whore, but I guess I should be flattered you would think a fuck from me would be worth an entire building." I grinned at him.
"That's not what I meant!" He finally released his grip, but looked like he wanted to touch me some more.
"You don't think my fucks are worth it?" I took a step closer and looked him in the eye as I smiled at him sultrily.
"I'm sure they are but–" He flushed bright pink and turned away, took a few steps, stopped, spun on his heel, and walked back over to me. It was almost comical. "Can we start this conversation over?"
"No fucks?"
"No fucks."
"Good. Cuz I'm fresh out of fucks to give. Buy me a coffee?"
"Sure." He smiled and motioned for me to lead the way to the Dunkin’ down the street.
"You sure do patrol this neighborhood a lot. It's because of the donuts, isn't it? Don't lie."
"No. I was hoping to run into you again."
"Oh?" I grinned up at him and slid my arm around his.
"Yeah. I wanted to ask you what the ever-loving fuck happened last night." He looked down at me wrapped around his arm, but didn't say anything.
My face fell. "Heard about that, did you?"
"Uh, yeah. A couple of my officers moonlight there as bouncers."
"They can do that?"
"As long as they're not on duty."
"It's a long story."
"It takes a while for the coffee to cool. We'll have time."
He opened the door, and we got our coffee, taking a table not far from the one we had sat at the day before. I sat down and popped the lid off, taking a drink to clear my thoughts as far as what and how much to tell him. He had done the same, but instead of taking a sip, he dunked half his donut into his steaming mug of coffee.
"Huh."
"What?" He carefully took a bite of the donut, and I snickered as part of it flopped off the end and splashed back into his drink.
"The place is called Dunkin' Donuts, but I think you may be the first person I've ever seen actually dunk his fucking donut."
"Nah. Tons of people do it. It's how they got their name."
We looked around, and I snickered at the utter lack of dunking.
"Shut up. It's good. You should try it."
"Not a huge fan of donuts. 'Cept crullers. Those are tasty."
He pulled one out of the bag and offered it to me.
"Fine." I took it and ripped a piece of it off and popped it into my mouth.
"You didn't dunk."
Sighing, I ripped off another piece and tried it. The universe exploded as two distinctly different flavors blended into something new, something better, something splendid. It was as if the creator had made the two glorious things to be brought together in harmonious ecstasy. "Holy shit."
"Told ya."
"Yeah. Yeah. You're brilliant. Let me enjoy this without you gloating."
"I don't gloat."
I cocked an eyebrow at him as I shoved another soggy piece into my donut hole.
"Some
times. Maybe. So, talk. What happened last night?"
Sighing, I shoved the rest of it in my mouth. I washed the soggy mass down with another drink before folding my hands on the table. "I was on a date last night. The contractor you saw does some work for Michel, he owns the Candy Shoppe. I went there to get his number, and I figured Alana would enjoy some after dinner entertainment."
"Who’s Alana?"
"My date."
"You were on a date…with a woman? At a strip club?" I could practically smell the smoke as his brain hastily painted the scene in his head.
"Yes. She's actually the sister of one of my boyfriends, but I like her, too."
"One of your boyfriends? How many people are you dating?" He didn't sound accusatory, just took another sip of coffee like it wasn't the weirdest thing he'd ever heard.
"Three. Including Alana."
"So, you're bisexual, or it was just kind of a play date?"
"Date date. But she's a lesbian, so don't get any mighty ideas, Jack."
"Josh."
"Figure of speech."
"You're under the assumption that I'm interested in dating you." He hid his smile behind his coffee cup, taking a sip and staring at me intently.
"Aren't you?" It would have been news to me. I'd been flirting hardcore, stopping just short of handing him a business card that said, 'Fuck me.'
"Seems kind of dangerous to me."
I nodded appreciatively. He wasn't wrong. "Only sometimes. Like when we get attacked by the Bickering Bandit or my studio goes up on flames."
"Or you get attacked by a rambunctious pair of sexually frustrated Neanderthals at a titty bar."
"Yeah. That, too. One of your officers told you what happened, apparently. Why am I retelling the tale?"
"I wanted to hear it from the source."
"You just wanted to stare at my ass again."
"Maybe," he said with a laugh.
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