by G A Chase
“Then what?” She’d carefully avoided asking about when he intended to leave again, but the longer she waited to find out, the sooner the departure seemed.
He looked up into the sky as if the clouds were spelling out an answer. “I don’t know. I thought I might see if Myles could use some help behind the bar. I wouldn’t want to miss the next raising of the devil.”
She couldn’t restrain herself. She hopped and bounded in front of Bart then jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. “You mean it? You’re not rushing off?”
He held her by the ass like he was ready to make love to her right there in the street. “Not until you’re ready to return to the swamp with me. Until then, I thought you could use a sparring partner to help train the Dooly Doodlebug twins.”
Sere dropped her head to his chest. “I know I’ve never said it before, but your help means the world to me. And I don’t even feel weak by admitting it.”
He leaned his head to the side and kissed her neck, sending electric sparks down her spine. “You’re a badass demon-hunting superheroine, but even immortals could use a hand once in a while. I’m just honored to be among those you turn to.”
“You’re a fucking hell of a lot more than that.” She jumped down off him and pulled him into a dark doorway. “Now, kiss me like we are making love.”
Sere nursed her Jameson’s whiskey while watching Polly Urethane and the Strippers perform one of their rare reunion gigs on stage at the Scratchy Dog in honor of Joe’s passing. Kendell, as lead guitarist Olympia Stain, wore a skimpy black dress with torn fishnet stockings. The dress was so short that the bottom of her black electric guitar hung lower than the hem. Even in their forties, the women could belt out a number while looking sexy as hell. Myles hadn’t taken his eyes off Kendell once all night except to mix drinks.
Sitting at the back of the room, Fisher bobbed to the music, dancing in a seated position. Instead of chastising him for mentally reliving his days hanging out next to the stage, crushing on each member of the band, Ann snuggled close to him on the green velvet couch and held his hand in her lap. They reminded Sere of teenage lovers who’d escaped the supervision of their families.
Sere turned to Myles. “I can’t remember Joe ever cutting loose, but I think he would have really enjoyed this.”
He freshened up her drink and leaned across the bar. “I checked in on the loas. They gave him a second line straight through the gates of Guinee. His soul is at rest in the deep waters.”
Tears came so fast to her eyes that she feared she might not be able to contain the gusher of emotion. “Thanks” was all she could manage.
Bart leaned in conspiratorially. “What was all that stuff Devlin was saying about overcoming the loas?”
Though she was grateful they’d seen to Joe’s passing, dealing with the lords of the afterlife always sent a chill down her spine. Having something to focus on other than Joe, however, helped her control her grief. “It was an idea my father had. He thought he could save people from death. Of course, that would only apply to the recently deceased, but then, he thought he had an eternity to work his plan. Those who didn’t submit would die and live again—with each reincarnation giving him a new opportunity to win them over. Eventually, every soul would be drained from the deep waters, leaving the loas with nothing to do.”
Myles pointed his bottle of Abita at her. “That’s why the loas are so afraid of you.”
She’d never considered that they might be as spooked by her as she was by them. “What do you mean? I thought they just wanted my soul for their collection.”
“If people accept the idea that death isn’t a given, eventually, they’ll figure out a way to defeat it—with or without the help of a devil. Then Guinee will become a ghost town without any ghosts. Immortality is the great equalizer between people and the gods. And if people have an example like you, the concept of defeating death will become more than theoretical. That’s what scares the loas of the dead shitless.”
Sere really couldn’t have cared less about what the loas felt. She put her drink on the bar and took Bart’s hand. “I’m done saving the world for today. Dance with me.”
He smiled and set his Jack and Coke next to her drink. “Whatever my sexy demon huntress wants.”
Out on the dance floor, Bart wrapped his arms around her waist and twirled her in the air. With her arms spread wide, Sere felt as if the burdens of her life were flying out of her fingers to be shared by those she loved. Only by letting go of the responsibilities she felt were her birthright could she find room to let those she loved into her soul. As the song grew in intensity, Bart moved his hands to her hips and lifted her until she felt like she was flying free from the devil and the hell that had unfairly claimed her.
When the music ended, Bart swung her around as if she were weightless and lowered her against his body. She leaned her head on his shoulder and put her hands on top of his around her waist. “Take me home.”
***
Want to know what happens next to Sere? Find the next book in the series here:
Hell or High Water
Curious about how Sere got to be the bad-ass demon hunter? Find her back story woven into the Malveaux Curse Mysteries starting with book 1 here:
Dog Days of Voodoo
G.A.’s Newsletter
Connect with G.A. on Facebook
Website
Book List
Technopia Series:
(writing as Greg Chase)
Creation
Evolution
Damnation
Salvation
The Malveaux Curse Mysteries :
(writing as G.A. Chase)
Dog Days of Voodoo
You, Me, and the Voodoo Queen
Oops! I Voodooed Again
Voodoo You Love
Voodoo You Think You Are
Look What You Made Me Voodoo
Love Me Like Voodoo
The Devil’s Daughter:
(writing as G.A. Chase)
Hell in a Head Gasket
Hell Bent for Demons
Hell’s Highway
Hell or High Water
About the Author
G.A. Chase is the pen name for Greg Chase. He is a science fiction and paranormal author living in New Orleans with his wife, fellow author Deanna Chase, and their two shih tzu dogs. On any given day you can find him behind his computer, people watching in the Quarter, or out in his studio creating stories in glass. His glass work can be found at www.chase-designs.com.
https://gregchaseauthor.com