Bart of Darkness (The Book of Bart 2)

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Bart of Darkness (The Book of Bart 2) Page 16

by Ryan Hill


  “No.”

  Veronica’s face dropped. “Can we at least discuss it?”

  “What’s to discuss? What kind of torture device your dad will use on me?”

  “Would you like another?” the waiter asked me.

  “Of course I would,” I said, handing him the empty drink.

  “It’s not like that,” Veronica said.

  “What’s it like, then?”

  “Dad’s bringing my bimbo of a step-mother,” she said. “Bunny. No joke, her name is Bunny.”

  “I guess the joke’s on her.”

  “Right? Bunny fashions herself a typical Southern Belle, and since I don’t have a steady beau—her words, not mine—she’s threatened to bring some guy for me to meet if I fly solo.”

  “And that doesn’t interest you?” I’d have a lot of fun scaring the pants off—literally and figuratively—a blind date with my behavior.

  “Heavens, no.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Tell you what. Do this for me, and I’ll have sex with you in the bathroom. Right now.”

  Intriguing. “Promise to scream?”

  Veronica extended her hand. “Deal.”

  I met Sam at a coffee shop late the next morning. She couldn’t wait to find out what had happened with Veronica. I wanted to tell her about the sex in the public restroom, but she’d have probably done a spit-take. Considering I was sitting across from her, the flying coffee would’ve gotten all over my suit.

  Pass.

  “Did you find anything out?” she asked in between sips of coffee.

  Like how loud Veronica can scream while in the throes of passion?

  “Not in the way you’re thinking,” I said.

  “Oh.” She slid down in her chair.

  I waited until she didn’t have any liquid in her mouth to drop the bombshell. “I did agree to meet her demon father, though.”

  “What?” Sam hopped back up, sitting upright. “Are you serious?”

  “Again, it’s not in the way you’re thinking, but yes.”

  “It’s adorable.” She laid a hand on mine. “It’s almost like you’re a real boy, with a heart and everything.”

  “Don’t ever say that to me again.” I sipped on my steaming black coffee. “You know, meeting her father is also a win for us.”

  Sam clapped. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  “If Veronica’s got her fingers in the Caelo pot, chances are her dad has his entire hand in it.”

  “I hope so,” she said. Then, recognizing her mistake, she cleared her throat. “I mean, that would be a real shame. For you.”

  Sam insisted on helping me pick out my wardrobe for the “big night.” Like I needed help. At least Duffy wasn’t around. He’d convinced Sam to let him spend time with his family, regardless of the negative effects. Spirits weren’t supposed to hover around their loved ones. It only caused pain for everyone involved. Whatever. It wasn’t my problem.

  Sam thinking she knew which tie I should wear was my problem.

  “Stop it.” I showed her my blue Ferragamo tie. “I’m going with this one.”

  “I approve.” She sat on the edge of my bed. “It’s very nice.”

  “Of course it’s nice,” I said. “All of my ties are nice.”

  Ozzie barked. Even he liked my tie, though the little traitor had taken up residence on Sam’s lap. She shrugged, not caring to hear me gloat over my tie collection. The almost-angel scratched Ozzie behind his ears, making his foot tap, and I shook my head at the dog. Yep, he was quite the Hell Hound.

  “So did you come over here for a reason besides helping me dress? You know I’m quite capable of doing that on my own.” I finished tying the tie, making sure it was snug around my neck. “And you can’t say to keep laughing at the fact that I’m meeting Veronica’s demon father.”

  “Those were the main reasons.”

  “There’s another?”

  Ozzie hopped off the bed and dashed into the other room. I heard him lapping up water from his bowl. Sam’s face fell, disappointed at the abandonment.

  Good.

  “Since you’ll be busy fooling around with Veronica and her father,” Sam said. “I’m going to try out Plan B with Miss Adams.”

  “I’m not fooling around with only Veronica and her father,” I said. “Her step-mom will be there too, making for quite the orgy.”

  Sam gagged and stuck a finger in her mouth.

  “That’s mature.”

  “I know.”

  I shook my head. “Do you think it wise, going it alone with Plan B?” It was mainly a rhetorical question. Sam doing Plan B as a solo act was a terrible idea.

  “I won’t be alone.”

  I forced myself not to snort. “And if things get heavy? Do you really think Duff Beer will be there in a pinch?”

  Sam’s fingers skirted over my silk comforter, her eyes looking vacant. I knew that look. She took a deep breath. Yep, I was about to hear something awkward and uncomfortable.

  “Remy will be there too,” she said.

  I couldn’t control the snorting. “Are you serious?” Why would he even help? Unless… “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “What?”

  “This is a date for you two, isn’t it?”

  “No.” She flopped back on the bed. “Maybe. I don’t know. We’ve hung out a few times.”

  “You’ve hung out a few times?” This was too much. “I strongly disapprove of this union. You need to put an end to it.”

  “We’re not doing anything.”

  “That’s not the point. What would your friends Upstairs think?”

  “It’s not like that.” Sam rolled off the bed. “We’re friends. We hang out. Have fun.”

  “That’s how it starts, you know?” I felt my horns shift in my head. “You hang out, have fun, then next thing you know smooth jazz is playing in the background while you two are naked and getting your sin on. It’s disgusting, and I forbid it. I forbid you to see him.”

  “Why are you–” She stopped and looked off to the side, the corners of her mouth turning upward. “Right, right.”

  “What?” I was caught off guard by her shift in demeanor.

  “You’re jealous of Remy.”

  “No, I’m–”

  “Yes you are.” Sam stood up and moved in closer; her face breaking out in a full-fledged smile. “Admit it.”

  I stood my ground, allowing the almost-angel to stand inches from my face as I matched her smile, exposed tooth for exposed tooth. “Never.”

  Sam studied my eyes. I wasn’t sure if she was searching for something deeper … or wanted to make out with me.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “No, it’s…it’s…”

  Oh, what was the use? She’d left the room before I could form a coherent defense.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  An Ex-Demon Meets the Family

  The only good thing that came from the Sam and Remy revelation was that I now had something new to stew over. Instead of worrying about the imaginary horrors Veronica’s demon father had in store for me, I focused on Sam’s betrayal. She’d stabbed me right in the back. It blew my mind.

  The act was so sneaky, so dubious… I loved every part of it. Never in my wildest dreams would I think Sam was capable of such dishonesty. It was amazing. I’d never tell her that, but I was impressed.

  “Earth to Bartholomew,” Veronica suddenly said.

  I pushed my thoughts of Sam into the background and glanced over at Veronica, enjoying the sight of her behind the wheel of her Dodge Challenger. It was no Mercedes Benz, but the ride wasn’t too shabby.

  “I’m here,” I said.

  “You’re here, but you’re not here,” she said. “Are you still worried about what Dad might do to you?”

  I waved her off. “Not really.”

  She smiled. Good. I’d helped to set her at ease. Veronica didn’t need to know about everything running through my mind.

 
; It was dusk, giving the sky a dark, reddish look. Poole’s Downtown Diner didn’t look like much from the outside. Housed in a small, rundown green building that connected to an even worse-looking silver building, the location was an unlikely spot to house one of Raleigh’s best restaurants, or play host to my meeting an ex-demon and his plaything.

  We stood in front of a car rental place across the street, waiting for a break in oncoming cars before crossing. Veronica’s dad and step-mother had their backs to us as they read over a menu taped to the window. From this view, Veronica’s father had broad shoulders and thick brown hair. His suit was as nice, if not nicer, than mine. I didn’t care for the step-mother, at least from this angle. She had big, poofy blonde hair.

  Pass.

  We crossed the street. Bunny noticed our reflection in the window next to her, and turned. She waved at us like a high school cheerleader doing a celebration. I cringed at the sight, understanding why Veronica didn’t like her. At least she had massive boobs. They bounced up and down as she waved.

  “Sweetie,” she shrieked, running to the edge of the sidewalk to hug Veronica.

  I left the ladies to their pleasantries and focused on her dad, as he turned toward us in what felt like slow motion.

  Son of a bitch.

  I knew this demon.

  “Kenan?” I held my hand over my mouth to keep the laughter from breaking out. Of all the demons in all the joints … this was Veronica’s father? This stale corndog of a demon fathered that sexy hellion? Inconceivable.

  “Been a long time since I’ve seen that face.” Kenan looked so happy, he was on the verge of tears. Disgusting. We weren’t long-lost friends or anything like that.

  “Likewise.” I forced a smile, shaking his hand.

  Veronica’s step-mom shoved her way in between Kenan and I like some eager beaver. “Hi, I’m Bunny.”

  She reeked of perfume. I wondered where Kenan had found this “gem” of a woman. She had a deep southern accent, puffed-up blonde hair, three gold necklaces, four gold bracelets, and five gold rings. Bunny couldn’t have been more obvious if she wore a gold-embroidered shirt that said, “Digging for gold—and I don’t mean boogers.”

  I’m sure Kenan had his reasons for marrying such a caricature of southern culture beyond her being a great lay, but I couldn’t think of any. Despite his buffoonish nature, the demon had made it to a higher order of Hell than even myself. The higher the level, the older—and more experienced—the demon appeared. Kenan looked like a man in his mid-forties, putting him in the top twenty-five of powerful demons. I looked eighteen.

  “How long has it been?” I asked.

  “Judas, wasn’t it?” Kenan opened the door to walk in.

  “That’s right.” I snapped my fingers as I entered. “We got drunk while Big Man’s son was being crucified.”

  It may have looked like a midnight diner from the outside, but inside Poole’s was all class. Chalk boards lined the top of the walls with the night’s menu offerings. There were not one, but two large bars for people to order drinks from. We made our way to the back of the place and took a seat in a rear corner booth. Kenan and Bunny sat first, forcing Veronica and me to sit with our backs to the crowd. Seeing who was coming through the entrance—and potentially after me—would’ve been nice, but those were the breaks.

  As long as this was where I had to sit, though, I needed to do something to keep my paranoia in check. I took a fifty-dollar bill from my wallet, then grabbed a waiter before he could disappear into the kitchen. Alcohol couldn’t enter my bloodstream fast enough.

  “Cocktail,” I said, slipping him the money. “As soon as possible.”

  The confused waiter glanced at the fifty and registered a slight gasp before regaining his composure. “Right away.”

  Kenan and Bunny’s eyebrows were both arched, making them look like they were questioning my behavior. I smiled and smoothed out my tie.

  “Apologies. I’m not used to this sort of thing.” I glanced at the waiter as he told the bartender to make my cocktail. I needed that thing three hours ago.

  Veronica rubbed my leg; a warm smile on her face. “You’re doing great.”

  “So I heard we’re in the same boat now,” Kenan said.

  The waiter arrived with the cocktail, then, and I took it before he had a chance to hand it to me. Waiting for him to set it on the table would only postpone the alcohol getting into my bloodstream. I signaled to Kenan to hold on as I tipped the glass, allowing the sweet cocktail to spill down my throat in a long, glorious stip. I swallowed, then helped myself to one more, emptying the glass.

  Signaling to the waiter, I said, “More.” Then I turned back to the table. “Sorry about that,” I said. “I’m parched. Started training for this 5K, it’s ridiculous.”

  Veronica laughed. She knew I’d have no part in something as silly as running. I glanced over my shoulder, keeping a look out for anyone suspicious potentially coming after me. So far, so good.

  “It’s okay, hun,” Bunny said. “Kenan here puts ‘em down like they’re oxygen.”

  “What can I say?” He took a drink. “I love everything. Life, libations, all of it.”

  Veronica’s foot nudged mine and I glanced over.

  “You okay?” she whispered.

  I nodded. Of course I was okay. Why wouldn’t that have been the case? Sure, I was sitting with the father of my lover, and my back was to the entrance, which meant any old schmoe could attack me from behind. But why would that bother me?

  A laugh squeaked out, along with a small burp. It made for an odd hiccup and pop sort of sound.

  “Excuse me,” I said.

  “Happens to the best of us,” Kenan said. “But you still haven’t answered my question.”

  “Which one?” I asked, my voice cracking a hair.

  “I heard you’re in the same boat as me, in regard to…” He pointed down.

  “Indeed.” Only I’d severed ties with Hell by choice. Kenan… “What made you leave again?”

  “It felt wrong,” Kenan said. “Leading people to sin and eternal damnation, while avoiding punishment myself.”

  Uh, that was a demon’s job. “Living in Hell wasn’t punishment enough?”

  Kenan laughed. “We both know that after a while, you get used to living down there.”

  “True.” Hell stunk at first, but after a while … it became home.

  “I felt bad,” he said. “I was living the good life, as it were, and wanted others to do the same.”

  Bile burned in my stomach. I didn’t want to hear Kenan talk about feeling bad for humanity. It went against everything that made us demons. Although I was here for more than dinner. Veronica was maybe a suspect, but I still needed to suss her out in more ways than one. Kenan and Bunny needed sussing out as well, but only in the investigative way. Not the biblical.

  “Have you done anything about it since?” I couldn’t come out and directly ask Kenan if he was part of the Caelo in Terra. That was bad form. But I could beat around the bush with a little subtlety. “Maybe try to come up with a third option for souls?”

  “A third option?” Bunny asked. “Like purgatory?”

  “More like keep them for yourself?” It was the closest I could get to blatantly asking the ex-demon if he was in league with the Caelo in Terra.

  “Why would I do that?” Kenan asked with a laugh. “I wanted to free souls. Not make them slaves to a higher cause.”

  I held up a hand, indicating my surrender. “Fair enough.”

  Suddenly someone brushed my shoulder and I shot up, grabbing their arm. A little cocktail splashed onto my sleeve. The waiter gasped, eyes wide with fear. I let him go, embarrassment weighing down my shoulders. I’d nearly attacked the man who was providing me with alcohol! It was downright shameful.

  “So sorry.” I slipped him another fifty, then gestured toward Kenan and Bunny. “I’m a bit on edge tonight, meeting the lady’s family and all.”

  “I completely understand, sir
.” He handed me the martini.

  “You might as well bring them two at a time,” I said with a wink.

  “With pleasure, sir.”

  This dinner was muddying my style and then some. The act of putting on a good face and trying to find out if the ones around you were working with a group that featured Mop Tops in their employ was much more awkward than it seemed. There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to help me successfully navigate these waters.

  It turned out Poole’s had plenty of alcohol to get me through dinner. I rang up a tab of over three-hundred dollars, and it was worth every cent. Kenan may have gone on and on about keeping humans from being damned for the same thing demons did, but I was too drunk to notice. Or care. I did my best to keep an eye out for any potential sneak attacks, and my mouth shut while everyone ate their food. Fortunately, the conversation only got heavy when Bunny asked if Veronica and I were “serious” while waiting for the check.

  “Heavens no,” Veronica said.

  The waiter set a cocktail in front of me.

  “I didn’t order this,” I said.

  “On the house.”

  Huh. I shrugged and took a sip. Considering I’d tipped him one-hundred dollars, the free drink was a fitting gesture. The waiter remained at the table, though, holding the check and waiting to see who would ask for it between Kenan and myself. I sighed and held out my black American Express Centurion card.

  The waiter took a moment to soak in the card’s greatness. “Thank you. I’ll get this right back to you.” He made his way to the bar and the closest cash register.

  “That’s mighty fine of you,” Bunny said.

  “Are you sure?” Kenan asked. “I mean, I can get it.”

  “No, that’s okay.” I didn’t need to worry about how much money, but for all I knew, Kenan worked part time as a greeter at some discount store to pay the bills.

  Veronica leaned in close. “I’ve never seen that credit card before.”

  “There’s a lot you haven’t seen,” I said with a smirk.

 

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