The Demon Inside Me

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The Demon Inside Me Page 2

by Christopher Nelson


  "She seems to like you."

  "Would you believe that it was due to one magical, wild night a few months ago?"

  "No."

  "I did her a favor a couple of years ago," I said. "I found her just outside her room. She barely made it up the stairs. Shot right here." I pointed at my stomach. "Coincidentally, right about the same place you stabbed me. I took care of her."

  "What did you do to the poor woman?"

  I sighed. "You wrong me, madam. I saved her life. She doesn't really know how, all she knows is that I was there when she fell asleep and I was there when she woke up."

  "What did you do?" she asked.

  "Same thing you just saw, but maybe a little more involved." It had been much more involved, in truth. It was just a nine millimeter bullet, but it had lodged near her spine, and I had spent far more than one drop of ichor on the process of getting it out without crippling her. "I would do it again in a heartbeat. Becky's a nice girl with questionable ethics and employment. Should I ask her if they're hiring? You might fit right in, little miss stabber."

  "I only stab demons," she pointed out.

  "And halfbloods," I added.

  We walked up to my door, number 305. I unlocked the door and threw it open. "Home sweet home," I said. "And this is yours." I handed the knife to her.

  She took it and immediately jabbed me in the kidney. "You go in first," she said.

  "Oh for crying out loud, I don't booby trap my own apartment," I said. "I tried it once, came home drunk a few nights later. Never again. Who'd come after me, anyways?"

  "Like hell you don't trap it. I can see the magical circle," she said.

  "It's a summoning circle!"

  "Demons can summon other demons?"

  I rubbed my forehead and resisted the urge to pick her up and shake her. "For the nineteenth time, I'm a halfblood, not a demon. Yes, I could summon a demon, but they'd be pissed off at me interrupting their morning like that. It's rude, like yelling at someone to hurry up while they're on the can. If I want to talk to someone, I pick up the phone like a normal person."

  "Go break the circle," she said.

  "Break the circle? Look, shorty, you're starting to make demands that just aren't going to happen. That's a circle bound by my own blood and I will be damned if you make me bleed that much again to re-establish it. You've cost me enough blood today." I took a step into the apartment and she followed me in, throwing the door closed behind her.

  "You're already damned," she said.

  "It's a figure of speech!"

  "No break, no contract," she said. "I don't want your buddies crawling up out of there. I'm sure you pretend to be a nice guy and all, but you're still a demon, and the only reason you're still alive is because I can use you."

  "Look, let's compromise. I'll put another circle around it. That way, even if something does decide to come crawling out, it's not going to get very far." I'd have to power the circle with ichor, not blood, but a few drops wouldn't hurt too much.

  "You say these things, but I'm not exactly convinced of your sincerity," she said.

  "I'm completely sincere, one hundred percent, maybe more. If you really want to feel secure, you set up some sort of magical binding around the couch. I'm going to need to lie down. You can bind me there until we've got the contract settled. There's chalk in the drawer over there." I pointed. She hesitated, and then I felt the knife pull away from my back. She stepped around toward where I had pointed, keeping her eyes on me, never turning her back. I waited until she pulled out the box of chalk, then turned my back on her and walked into my bedroom so I could change.

  Right around the same time I dropped my pants, she walked in. "What are you doing?"

  "For God's sake, haven't you ever heard of knocking?" I burst out.

  "Can you even say that?" she demanded.

  "What, being polite? I'm the one who's actually been polite today, you know."

  "Not that. Talking about God. Can a demon do that?"

  I raised my arms up above my head. "God! If addressing you by name is unacceptable coming from the lips of an infernal halfblood, I cordially and respectfully request that you strike me down where I stand." Nothing happened, of course. I lowered my arms and looked over my shoulder. Her eyes were wide. "Happy? Can I finish changing now? Or do I need to charge admission?"

  She backed out without another word. I dumped my bloody clothes in the garbage and threw on some old sweats. If she decided to get stabby again, at least it would involve clothes I didn't care about. When I left the bedroom, she was standing in the middle of my living room and glaring in my direction. I smirked. "Enjoy the view?"

  "You're running out of time," she reminded me.

  "Sure. I need to make a phone call. Want some coffee?"

  "Are you serious?" Her composure cracked again. "You're going to make a phone call and brew some coffee when the contract is due in less than thirty minutes? Are you insane?"

  "Yes, yes, and no. Do you want coffee or not?"

  She sat down on the edge of my good chair. "Sure. Whatever. It's your life."

  I walked into the kitchen and got a pot of coffee started. When it started dripping, I flipped my phone open and called my boss. John picked up on the second ring. "Where the hell are you?" he bellowed.

  I winced. "Sorry, John. I got mugged on the way to work this morning."

  "Bullshit, Zay!"

  "No bullshit," I said. "I'm a little banged up and I know you don't like it when I come in looking scruffy, and I look a lot worse than scruffy right now. I didn't want to embarrass you in front of the suits."

  "Bullshit," he repeated. "You get me a police report."

  "I didn't report it."

  "Then you're done."

  "John!"

  "No, Zay. You've pulled this for months. This is your third write-up. You know you're on probation. You know what company policy is like."

  I nearly dropped the phone. "John, I'm sorry, I can make it in late if you really need me. Just give me some time to clean up."

  "Sorry." He did sound apologetic. We had only worked together for about a year, but he had always treated me well enough. "You can come in later, but just to pick up your check. I'll make sure you get a couple weeks as severance. You did good work. The schedule just doesn't work for you. I'm sorry things had to turn out this way."

  "It's all right, John," I said. "I'm pissed, but I understand. I'll be around later."

  "Sure. Take care, Zay."

  "Yeah, you too." I flipped the phone closed and swore at some length. Footsteps in the kitchen reminded me that I was not alone. "Sorry. Did I offend your virgin ears?"

  "What the hell is your problem?" she demanded.

  "I just got fired because of you. I'm going to take this into consideration during our negotiations, you know."

  She snorted. "Whatever. You still seem to be under the impression that you're wearing the pants here. Remember who's going to be your master?"

  I slapped my phone down on the counter, burned ichor, and moved. She never even saw me coming. I grabbed her by the straps of her tank top and lifted her nine inches off the ground, about eye to eye with me. "Girl, you're making a lot of assumptions," I said. Her face paled and her eyes grew wide. "First of all, you're causing me a lot of trouble. Anyone would be pissed in my place. Second, you seem to think that you're going to bend me over the negotiating table. I can call for contract arbitration up to the very last moment, and they can dissolve the contract if one side isn't acting in good faith. What's going to happen to you then? You're going to have no contract, no binding, and one pissed off halfblood in the room. That's not good for you."

  I shook her gently and put her back down on the ground before the straps tore. "Stop assuming you're going to have the whip hand here, little lady. Contracts are between equals. You give me a reasonable contract, reasonable terms, and reasonable compensation? I'll buy in. I shouldn't, but you're interesting, and I already told you, I like gutsy chicks. It's up to y
ou. You can be a reasonable, decent person and I'll give you a hand. Or you can be a bitch and I'll give you your ass on a platter." I walked back over to the coffee maker. "Cream or sugar?"

  She didn't say anything, but I heard her taking shaky breaths. I waited for another minute before looking over my shoulder. She had turned her back on me, but she was visibly shaking. I hoped she was scared enough to drop her plans. If she couldn't deal with a halfblood, how could she deal with an actual demon, especially one like Azriphel?

  "Black," she finally said. Her voice was still soft, but there was an edge to it. "Like your heart, demon."

  I chuckled and reached into the cupboard and took down my coffee mug, then after a moment of contemplation, another one. Mine was off white, chipped, stained from years of use. The other mug was newer, brighter, and had a bright red heart on it. I hadn’t thrown that one out yet. I filled our mugs, adding a teaspoon of sugar to mine. "You haven't failed to impress me yet." I heard her feet shuffle. "You're tougher than you look. Last time I did that to someone, he pissed himself. Thankfully, it wasn't in my apartment."

  "You're never going to scare me that badly, demon," she snapped.

  "Sure. You were on the verge of catastrophic bladder control failure." I turned and thrust the mug at her. "Take your coffee, sit down, and let's get this over with."

  She followed me back into the living room and I held out my hand. She slapped the knife into my hand and sat on the edge of my good chair again. I stepped over to the chalk circle she had drawn around my summoning circle. She had added runes at four roughly equidistant points around the perimeter, probably insurance. I jabbed my finger for some ichor. When I touched the circle, I felt infernal energy arc around it. Anything touching that barrier would have to deal with my power first. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that if anything came through my circle, it wouldn't find my power much of a hindrance.

  I retreated to the couch and lay down, passing her knife back to her. She pricked her own finger and touched it to the other circle she had chalked around the couch. I pointed back toward the bathroom. "If you want a band-aid, I've got some."

  "I'll live. Looks like fifteen, maybe twenty minutes until sunrise. Where do you want to start, demon?"

  "Length of service," I said, wiggling my toes at her. "I'd suggest industry standard, a year and a day, renegotiable upon completion."

  "Just a year and a day? I was looking for something longer term than that."

  "I'm not looking for long term employment," I said. "Correction, I'm not looking for a long term contract. I do need to eat, you know, and I'm sure that you won't feed me, so I'll need time to work. We can add a clause for renewal though."

  She frowned. "I’m going to write this down. Just so you can't take it back on me." Contract negotiation never held my interest. She wanted me to be both sword and shield when facing off against her adversaries. I was not in favor of that sort of relationship, to put it mildly. She insisted on a mutual defense clause at least, saying that if she was attacked while I was around, she wanted some company on the way to hell. How could I say no to that? Her primary goal was information, especially how to defend herself against other demons.

  When it came time to discuss compensation, I learned something else about my mysterious new lady friend: she was cheap. She was tightfisted to the point where Scrooge himself would kneel at her altar. She flat out refused to pay in money or services. She didn't seem like she was dead broke, but maybe she got around in life by extorting services from innocent demons and halfbloods such as myself. "What the hell are you willing to do, then?" I finally demanded. "No cash? No credit? No services, no exchanges, no refunds? What's the magic word here, shortcake?"

  Her features settled back into the scowl I had gotten so used to in the past half hour. "I'm not going to warm your bed, demon."

  I rolled my eyes. "Oh, woe is me. I get the feeling you'd be bringing the knife to bed. Not interested. Sorry."

  "Funny," she said. "Real funny. You're a funny guy."

  "So what's the deal?" I asked. "No compensation, no contract, about as cut and dried as it gets. They'll probably take a chunk of your ass on the way out, too."

  "What? I thought arbitration was supposed to be fair."

  "Fair? The arbitration itself is scrupulously fair. Don't you know how it works?" She shook her head and I grinned. She was just an amateur with flashes of brilliance and guts. "Arbitration, in our case, would be handled by an imp from the Malefic Consortium. They're the official demonic legal service. Think of them like a two foot tall lawyer, pointy teeth, bat wings, bad attitude. Unlike a human lawyer, they aren't paid for their services. That makes them universally pissed off. They don't appreciate getting their time wasted. They won't go as far as killing you, since that's bad for their reputation, but they'll feel more than free to take out some of their anger on whoever wastes their time."

  "But they're demons! How is that fair?"

  "You're the one who signed up for this," I pointed out. "Not my fault you skimped on the research."

  "It's not fair arbitration if they're going to favor you!"

  "They're not favoring me. You're a tightass."

  "But-"

  "I don't make the rules, sweetheart. I just follow them." I stretched out and closed my eyes. "You're lucky you caught me. If you pulled this stunt with a real demon, you'd be lucky to die. Contract service doesn't look good on our resume, so to speak. That sort of loss of freedom is what drives full demons into a frenzy."

  She blinked. Whether or not she understood, I wasn't sure. "Why don't they get paid?"

  "The imps? What would we pay them? It's not as if they can go to the bank and cash a check. They're too short to reach the counter. Can you see the look on the teller's face?"

  "What's to stop them from setting up an online bank account?" she asked. "I mean, they could just order anything they wanted."

  I opened my eyes and stared at her. "Do you want to be the one to teach thousands of imps how to use computers?"

  "No."

  "And there you go," I said. "Back to the point. What will you give me? Make it fast. You've got about two minutes."

  She sighed. "I'll teach you about human magic. That’s a fair trade, right?"

  I shrugged. "Sure, but what about the mutual defense clause?"

  "What about it?"

  "You're the one likely to be attacked and I'm the one who's going to be forced to come to your aid, shortcake. Not entirely fair. I'm willing to go easy on you for that. If we're out somewhere, you pick up the tab for incidentals, food and such. Fair?"

  "Seventy-five twenty-five split."

  "Sure, I'll pay the twenty-five with my income. Oh, wait. I don't have an income."

  "Fine. Don't expect anything fancier than fast food. Is that it?"

  I smiled and spoke in demonic. "Witness!"

  Before she could protest, an imp in a business suit phased through the ceiling and dropped onto my coffee table. His wings flexed once before folding. "Morning, Zay," he rumbled. Imps have always had impressively deep voices for such little creatures.

  "What the shit?" the girl burst out.

  "Is that you, Kibs?" I asked. "Sorry. You all look alike in those suits."

  The imp snorted. "Fuck off, Zay. Don't piss me off this morning. I just had to represent an incubus in family court this morning. Do you know how long that takes? The entire courtroom, filled with kids. Kids by thirteen different mothers. You should have seen the looks on their faces. Absolutely fucking heartbreaking. And I had to defend that piece of shit? Christ. I need a drink. Got a beer?"

  "I'd get one for you, but I'm sort of tied up at the moment," I said.

  Kibs hopped off the table and peered at the circle drawn around the couch. "You could blow on this and it'd pop like a fucking pimple. Shit, Zay, you're losing your touch."

  "I know, but it makes her feel safer," I said.

  The imp spun and looked up at the girl. To her credit, she wasn't flipping out. Firs
t contact with a visibly demonic creature made many humans flip out. Kibs knew this. He reached into an inner pocket, pulled out a pair of glasses, and settled them on his snout. She flinched as he peered up at her. "She's pretty cute. Bang her yet?"

  "She already told me I'd have to be the last guy on earth."

  "I'm standing by that," she said.

  "Your mom's a world class succubus, and you haven't seduced this shameless hussy into your bed yet? How long have you been hanging out with her? An hour? Two?"

  "About forty minutes."

  "Who’s a shameless hussy?"

  Kibs sighed. "You’re losing your touch. Too much human living. Where's my beer, woman? Do I have to do everything myself? Why'd you let her out of the kitchen, Zay?"

  "Could you just open the fridge for him so he shuts up?" I asked.

  Kibs waddled off to the kitchen and she followed him without protest. Not without a glare in my direction, though. I grinned. I heard the fridge open and the clink of glass, and then a squeak and yelp.

  I sat up just as Kibs flew through the doorway and slammed face-first into the far wall. A bottle of Guinness flew after him, aimed right for the back of his head. The imp spun around and caught it, thumping against the wall again. "You all right over there?" I asked.

  "Damn, Zay! Damn! That girl has a nice firm ass!"

  The girl stalked out of the kitchen, her cheeks flaming red. "I will shove your balls in a blender if you ever touch me like that again," she snapped.

  Kibs waddled back to the coffee table, carrying the Guinness cradled in his arms like a baby. He hopped up on the table and set the bottle down, looked straight at the girl, and bit the top of the bottle off. "Oh really now, sweetcheeks?" he asked around a mouthful of glass.

  "Could you get me one too?" I asked. "And one for yourself if you want."

  The girl looked positively apoplectic. Kibs chose that moment to extend his tongue down to the bottom of the bottle, then leered suggestively at her. She looked at me and sagged. "Is this really what doing business with demons is like?"

  "No, just me," I said. "Like I said, not my fault you skimped on the research."

  She walked back into the kitchen and I heard more glass clinking, then a drawer rolling open. "You got a bottle opener in here somewhere?"

 

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