Immortal Divorce Court Volume 2: A Sirius Education

by Kirk Zurosky

  The elf twins waved enthusiastically at me, yet also a bit forlornly. They served a different master now—actually mistress was more accurate. While before, the great fountain in Hades’s courtyard had been a monument to maleness, this craft represented something similar and yet entirely different at the same time. The twin hulls were really the spread open legs of a very satisfied woman, for where the hulls joined together was a breathtakingly accurate depiction of womanhood, right down to the fully swollen and aptly named sweetness of Venus. As I lovingly appreciated this fine bit of work, and my loins yearned for the twins, before my eyes appeared the name of Hades’s vaginal vessel—the Clitoris.

  “It is the rare man that can recognize that, Sirius Sinister,” Hades said with a predatory smile that worried me greatly. “Oh, get over that,” she said. “If I wanted to try out that enchanted organ of yours, it would have happened. I have found that only a woman can truly satisfy a woman—although you seem to have left quite an impression on the twins here.”

  “And the great she wonders why I want to chomp off that penis of Sinister’s,” the Hellevator demon said, rolling her eyes. “If I hear one more thing about his thing, I swear I will vomit the rainbow.”

  Hades whirled around on one high and entirely well-made boot heel and glared at the demons. I looked a little more closely at the boots she wore and was oddly satisfied to see Hades had not lost her desire for mortal suffering—the tanned leather unmistakably had the outlines of the faces of mortal sinners stitched into it. I looked again as one eye blinked, and indeed, I had not made Hades soft at all, for the boots were actually composed of human faces. “Yes, Sirius Sinister, you set me free to be truly happy, and for that I will be eternally . . . uh, tolerant of your errant behavior. Though I have to say, your reputation for depravity has taken a pretty big hit with this whole parenting thing.”

  “I remember when Hell was full of depravity,” Red Hair said to Rat Face. “Now? Not so much.” Rat Face nodded in agreement and casually scratched herself between her legs. Praying Mantis looked over, shrugged, and did the same.

  Clearly the demons were all pugilistic pussies of death and mayhem, and lacking some very basic common sense, because who else who would be stupid enough to piss off the Lady of the Underworld. But as Hades’s face grew dark and grim, and the very fires of Hell raged within her ebony eyes, I realized that Hell hath no fury like, well, Hell.

  A great pit of fire encircled the demons, and Oliver, Garlic, and I backed up very carefully. There was an odd popping sound, and the fake Moon of Madrid suddenly shot high in the air, launched from the neck of the Hellevator demon, and headed in our direction where Garlic took a running leap and snared it before it shattered on the stone. She brought it back to me like some kind of jeweled pheasant. The heat of the hellfire grew even hotter, greater than anything I had ever experienced in my two trips to the netherworld. And before our shielded eyes, the demons began melting, their faces distorting at first, then slowly dripping like misshapen candles onto the stone, followed by their torsos. All that remained was their privates perched atop wobbly brainless legs until Hades glared at them with a withering gaze that caused the demons’ final life essences to explode in a shower of ash and soot that rained onto the ground in a concert of screams.

  Hades stood back from the rail of her vessel and snapped her fingers, starting an onrush of her helpers who brought her a mirror, and some rosy-red lip coloring, which she expertly applied. “No one leaves Hell without my say so,” she said, equally a threat to all those in attendance and a casual statement of the obvious. “And I am fairly certain that I have established that Hell has not gone the ways of unicorns and rainbows under my watch.”

  I had wondered what Hades did when Persephone had control of Hell, and then I saw her rubbing the inner thigh of one of the deck hands, and I had my answer. “Thank you, Hades, for your help,” I said, wondering if there was a price for her actions. I could see Oliver was having the same thoughts, as he once again reached out to try and budge the wagon to no avail.

  “Oh, you are correct, Sinister,” Hades said. “There is always a price. But fortunately for you, I was cleaning up one of my mistakes from the time before I was truly me. So you can consider this one gratis.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. A god didn’t make mistakes, uh, did she?

  “I made the Hellevator demon and her sisters flawed and incomplete,” Hades said. “Because as a man, I did not know of the clitoris, and thus gave them only the capacity to know and deliver pain and not experience the ultimate in pleasure. No wonder they were miserable, wretched creatures even for demons.”

  I nodded, thankful for good teachers and being a willing pupil. Oliver had never looked more uncomfortable, which made me crack a smile. I turned and gestured to the wagon. “Is there any way you could have this monstrosity removed?” I asked. “Or do something about Garlic’s collar?”

  Hades snapped her fingers, and Garlic’s collar returned to normal. “But you are not getting out of here that way,” Hades said, as the prow of the ship began to edge slowly back into the wormhole. “I have one final gift to you.”

  The twins looked absolutely elated, and my smile grew even wider. Nothing like going from facing the kiss of death to possibly fucking hot elf twins in heat. “And what is that, Hades?” I said hopefully, and turned to hand the Moon of Madrid to Oliver.

  “You have got to be joking with me, Sinister,” Oliver grumbled. “Time and place, my good man, time and place.”

  “Sorry, Sinister, not the twins,” Hades said. “And von Cliffingham, there is always time for good loving, no matter the place. In due time you will find that to be true. But for now there is more parenting for you to do, Sirius Sinister.” She waved her hand more forcibly, and her ship and the twins disappeared back into the wormhole, and we were sucked into it behind them, then thrust out instantly into a battle of life and death.

  Chapter 15

  Saint James’s Park has been witness to many events of such utter wickedness that history does not even include them as warning footnotes for future generations of mortal and immortals alike. Adams spat at Connor again, and walked back toward the girls, happy to hear the crocs thrashing themselves into a frenzy. “Now then,” he said, lowering his breeches, pulling out his cock, and stroking it. “Who is it going to be, you saucy bitches?”

  But true to Connor’s prophetic words, these were no ordinary bitches, and they went on the attack in the best way they knew how. “I thought you were a real werewolf, Adams,” Adelaide called. “What’s with the puppy dick?”

  “Puppy?” Beatrice snorted. “I can’t see anything from here. Are you sure he is not a woman?”

  “I’ll, I’ll . . .” sputtered Adams, growing red in the face as he tried to coax his manhood to life. “I’ll show you. I’ll show you.”

  But it was to no avail, as the girls kept up their verbal barrage on his phallus. “Apparently, you will show us a whole lot of nothing,” Adelaide scoffed. “I’d feel a bigger prick if I sat on a needle.”

  “Come on now, sister,” Beatrice said. “A needle’s got way more prick than old thimble dick over there.”

  Adams was now positively beet-red in his rage, foaming at the mouth, and fairly shaking as he tried unsuccessfully to get his libido back. Connor and Will had been absolutely stunned by the copious and rather unladylike language flowing from the girls’ mouths. But they knew an opportunity when they saw one. “Connor,” Will called out to his brother, “remember the Brady sisters?”

  Connor looked at his brother in utter confusion. “Why, for heaven’s sake, are you bringing them up at a time like this?” he said. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “No, no, no.” Will said. “When we were young and would spin around and around. . . . Your left leg is free and so is my right . . . so . . .”

  “Got it,” Connor said. He glanced over to where Adams had given up and
pulled up his breeches. “Now,” he shouted. “Roll this way!”

  Adams had taken out his knife and was so positively enraged that he did not see the Wood brothers roll together and stand up, balancing their weight against each other. “I don’t care if you are dead or alive when I am in you,” he said to the girls. “See how well you talk when your throats are slit!” He paused for a moment and felt his crotch. “Oh, wait a minute. That might have just done the trick!”

  The Wood brothers had clasped hands and were whirling with all their might. Adelaide could not help herself and looked past Adams at the two spinning werewolves. Adams followed her eyes and turned, right as Connor let go and, with Will’s momentum, launched himself at Adams, catching him full in the jaw with one extended fist and sending him crashing into the crocodiles’ gate, knocking the latch with his head. But Adams was one tough werewolf, and reached up to touch the crown of his head, which was gushing blood. He drew back his hand and licked it, screaming like the wild animal he was. He bent to pick up the long wicked knife that lay at his feet, right as the gate burst open and the crocodiles satisfied their bloodlust by cracking his head open like a rotten cantaloupe and showering the surrounding vegetation and Connor with Adams’s demented brain matter.

  “Who would have thought that bastard would be even nastier in death than in life,” Connor said, getting an eyeful of the crocodiles’ powerful jaws, which were quickly turning Adams into werewolf carpaccio. “I am next,” he shouted. “Try to move into the woods. I will keep them busy for a while.”

  “As what, an after-dinner mint once they have finished chomping on Adams?” Will snorted. “My arms are almost free, brother. I am coming to fight with you.”

  Adelaide and Beatrice, using the brothers’ method, had risen to their feet as well and, though netted, hopped toward Connor with knives in hand. “We are ready too,” said Adelaide. “We fight together.”

  “I think I am in love, Will,” Connor said as his brother reached him and pulled him to his feet.

  “Great timing, brother,” Will replied. “Really great timing.”

  The crocodiles had finished their Adams tartare, and now scented the blood on the Wood brothers. The four stood as close together as the nets would allow, knives brandished against the toothed menaces crawling slowly their way. Then from above them there came a loud pop, and three familiar figures hurtled out of the air, landing softly on the ground in front of them.

  “Well, Hades did say parenting,” I said, quickly taking in the netted twins and my similarly trussed up girls. The approaching crocodiles stopped crawling, startled by our sudden appearance, or perhaps their small, primitive brains were confused as to why a small little white creature had the audacity to growl and snap at them angrily. “I guess this brings new meaning to being a chaperone. Where is Adams, and what are those things doing here?”

  “What is left of Adams is in their bellies,” Beatrice said.

  “And on the ground,” Adelaide added.

  “And the bushes,” Will said.

  “We would like to avoid the same fate,” Connor finished. “Can you cut us free?”

  I surveyed the netting and instantly recognized it from my encounter with Baron Orcinus on the beaches of Australia. “How did Adams get that stuff here? It’s merfolk war machine netting!” I wondered for a second if Orcinus had supplied Adams with the netting, and realized there was no other possibility. “But I fear I cannot break it.”

  “That is not going to be a problem,” Oliver scowled. “I am all too familiar with this stuff.”

  I had never seen him look so clearly, well, angry. Oliver was the most measured and calm man I had ever met. Hell, he had just faced down the worst of Hell, and aside from the blazing hellfire never broke a sweat, so to speak. But something about these nets was personal.

  Oliver placed two hands on Adelaide’s net and pulled. The crocodiles were spurred to life by the prospect of their next meal getting away, and lunged forward. “Sirius,” Oliver said, “it would be rather prudent to make some nice shoes, perhaps even a belt or two out of those creatures, yes?”

  “Not a problem,” I said, exhaling slowly and looking to Garlic. “Come on, girl, let’s show our young charges what a master assassin and his equally deadly partner can really do.”

  My fangs sprouted from my mouth as I bounded right at the onrushing crocodiles, easily dodging their deadly jaws, which clamped shut on nothing but empty air. On my first pass, I blinded one, and Garlic did the same with the other. On my second, my sword found one primitive brain and extinguished its cold dark evil forever. I turned to see how Garlic was doing, and saw her covered in blood that was not her own. The crocodile lay listing on its side like a great scaly ship that had taken too many cannonballs. Blood poured from its countless wounds, courtesy of the world’s smallest, deadliest killing machine. I walked over and causally drove my blade into its brain. These beasts would kill no more. I included Adams in that sentiment.

  I turned to see Oliver ripping the final net apart and freeing Will in the process. I was torn between the desire to rush and hug Adelaide and Beatrice and comfort them and the thought I should respect them as adults. But before I could finish waging that internal battle, the girls ran to me and gave me a huge group hug.

  “Daddy!” Adelaide said. “We knew you would come!”

  Beatrice nodded in agreement. “Even though we had matters well in hand.”

  “I could see that,” I said with a smile. “Perhaps I could have tarried a bit longer, fighting the Hell demons and parlaying with Hades, and let you and the Wood brothers do your thing.”

  “Fighting with Hell demons,” Will said, elbowing Connor. “Let it be known that the master assassin is as funny as he is deadly. And don’t get me started on Garlic—that bitch is fearsome!”

  Connor slapped me on the shoulder. “Parlaying with Hades, right . . . like that could happen.”

  I opened my mouth to properly scold these novices, but suddenly the crocodile corpses burst into flame, and there, right in the middle of the conflagration, was the obsidian fist of Hades, with perfectly applied red paint on the nails. Thanks for the darkest soul I have tortured in five hundred years spoke a voice that came from the fire and all around us.

  “Glad I could help,” I said. “And thanks again for yours.”

  No good deed goes unpunished, Sirius Sinister.

  The crocodiles burned bright with hellfire, and we averted our eyes. There was a tremendous flash of light, and the unmistakable smell of brimstone wafted through the air. I looked at the spot where the crocodiles and the remains of Adams had been and saw only ash. “I was afraid she was going to say that,” I said out loud to the stunned Wood brothers and Adelaide and Beatrice. “Now then, young Connor, what was that you were saying?”

  “Nothing sir,” Connor said sheepishly. “Nothing at all.”

  Oliver’s deep rich laugh echoed throughout Saint James’s Park, so loudly he scattered the fowl on the nearby lake. The girls and the Wood brothers walked over to the lake, and the boys jumped straight in trying to rid themselves of the deer blood. The girls bent at the shore and similarly tried to clean up. Inevitably, a great splashing water fight broke out, leaving all of the participants soaked and happy, and giving Oliver and me the chance for a little private conversation. Oliver reached down and picked up a piece of netting. “Seems like Adams had a run-in with an old friend of yours,” he said.

  “That was my thought exactly,” I said. “Why would Orcinus help a land dweller?”

  “I have no idea,” Oliver said.

  “Well, we know the demons sought out Scorn to satisfy their little vaginadetta against me,” I said. “So our little encounter with them was not concocted by Scorn. But, unfortunately, since Adams was crocodile dinner, and now an eternally tortured soul, we will never get the chance to find out how he got in league with the Hellevator demon.”
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br />   “You could go and ask him . . .”

  I shook my head. “No, three times is a charm for me,” I said. “Not going to happen. But I am not a believer in coincidences. There has to be a connection between Scorn and Orcinus.”

  “Other than that they both hate you.”

  “True,” I agreed. “It’s a theme.” The play in the water had gotten a bit too spirited for my liking. “Connor of the Wood, remove your hand from Adelaide’s backside this instant,” I shouted. “All of you, out of the water—now!”

  I felt sufficiently chaperone-like, and definitely father-like, as they shuffled out of the lake and past me. “We were just playing around, Father,” Adelaide said. “No harm in a little play now is there?”

  I glared at Connor, who chose wisely not to meet my gaze. “Yes, my dear, there certainly is. Now back to the inn, the whole lot of you. Let’s get a bath.” Adelaide and Connor exchanged a knowing glance, and Connor made exaggerated bathing movements. “Oh hell no, don’t even think of it!” I sputtered, which just elicited more laughter from the group.

  My own words were coming back to haunt me. They were adults and could and would do what they chose. And Oliver’s words in my ear were equally horrifying. “I only had to worry about one phallus,” he whispered with a wry grin. “You get to worry about a whole world filled with them.”

  I punched him in the shoulder as hard as I could, which merely served to bruise my knuckles. “You, my old friend, are one big phallus.”

  When we arrived at our inn, we met up with Mary Grace and Contessa, who informed us that Angus had survived the knifing and was resting comfortably at his own inn, annoying the entire house staff with his unreasonable demands. Contessa sounded generally disappointed she had missed a run-in with the demons and Hades, and Adams and the killer crocodiles. “You guys have all the fun,” she complained.