Mercy for the Wicked

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Mercy for the Wicked Page 10

by Lisa Olsen


  So you can understand my surprise when I heard the disembodied voice.

  “Nice to get you alone for once, Lovey.”

  I froze halfway through the darkened garage. Had someone been lying in wait for me the whole time? “Whoever that is, I’m not alone. My boyfriend’s right upstairs and he’s a cop. So you’d better do yourself a favor and take off right now before he hears you.” Two figures stepped out of the shadows. I mean they literally stepped out of the shadows, as in; there hadn’t been anybody there a second ago.

  One was scruffy with jaundiced eyes that bulged slightly out of his thin face, his friend was a good deal shorter and huskier, long stringy hair hanging greasily from his scalp. Neither of them looked like they’d ever spent much time in the dentist’s chair. In easier times I might have mistaken them for a couple of dirty, homeless guys, but there and then, I knew they were far more dangerous from the lack of auras.

  “Wasn’t talkin’ ‘bout no copper,” the shorter one laughed thickly. “But we can have a dance with him first if you’d rather.” He started for the stairs and I called out as loud as I dared to stop him.

  “Wait! What do you want?” It was fairly certain that whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good.

  “We got to collect you for the Master, miss,” the tall one gave what I imagined passed for a pleasant smile among demons.

  “Collect me…”

  “Too right, he was most explicit you wasn’t to be harmed.”

  “Unless you was to put up a bit of a struggle,” the shorter added, “then we was allowed to have a little taste.” He looked very, very interested in that possibility, probably because I was already starting to glow softly as my Grace keyed in to my distress.

  “A taste, but we ain’t allowed to harm her much, Hubie.”

  “Is that you, Mercy?” Ben’s voice sounded from above and I looked up the stairwell, torn between relief and fear at hearing him so close.

  “Yeah, I’ll be right up,” I called out before lowering my voice again. “Look, I don’t want any trouble. It’s real nice of you to come all this way to bring your master’s invitation, but now is not a good time for me to go anywhere.”

  Hubie’s smile widened in anticipation of my refusal. “Oh, I’m sorry, were you under the impression that we was askin’? She’s a cool one, ain’t she, Bert? Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.”

  “Too right,” Bert chuckled as his companion shuffled a step closer, and then another. “Try and understand, miss, we hold you in the highest regard.”

  “That is a fact,” Hubie nodded, continuing his advance, even as I backed toward the stairs, the glow brightening against my futile attempts to smother it. There was no telling what might happen if I accidentally gave them a blast of my Grace. To hear it told, the Grace is absolutely delicious to minor imps and demons. It might possibly trigger a feeding frenzy, and between the two of them, I might not survive it, orders from the Master or not. “But we mean to take ya, there ain’t nothing else for it. Now, you do your shiny best to cooperate, or we’ll have to pay a visit upstairs before we go. You don’t want to bring the copper into it, do you?”

  “Leave Ben out of this,” I hissed, the Grace flaring brighter and I tried to work up a good head of righteous anger to try and tamp it down.

  “Makes no difference to us whether he lives or dies, poppet. The choice is up to you.” Hubie scratched at his lank scalp furiously, and it started to make me itch just watching him.

  “Who are you talking to, hon?” Ben called down, sounding a little closer.

  “I’ll be right up!” I called out frantically, trying to figure out how the hell I was going to keep him out of it without having to go with those two. “Sa…” I opened my mouth to call for Samael, but a filthy hand clapped over my face before I could get the rest of the word out.

  “Sorry, miss, but we can’t be allowin’ ya to call for no help, particularly of the angelic variety.” Bert looked almost apologetic as he held me still.

  “Look-see here, poppet.” Hubie pushed his way into my face, his breath strong enough to make me gag. “You come with us real quiet like, or I’ll have m’self a good look at his innards before we go. But we is going, ain’t we?” he nodded and I nodded with him, my eyes wide. I had no idea how I’d get out of it, but I couldn’t risk Ben getting hurt, and I couldn’t use my Grace against them. Hell, I had no idea if Sam would even come if I did call, he was busy chasing after Azazael in the Ether. And Adam… yeah, there was no use in calling for him anymore.

  “Grand. Let’s be off then, shall we?” Bert eased his hold on me, ruined teeth showing as he smiled.

  “What about Ben? I can’t leave without talking to him. At least let me go on up and say goodbye, smooth things over.”

  “No time to keep the Master waiting.” Hubie grabbed my arm, propelling me forward. I threw up my hands to brace myself as he strolled right up to the darkest corner of the garage and we passed through the wall, out into the night air. That solved the answer of how they’d gotten in there in the first place.

  “Where are you taking me exactly?” I looked up longingly at Ben’s windows above that blazed with light, wondering how he’d take it when I didn’t come up those stairs. Would he freak out with worry, or would it be the final straw for him? For us?

  “To see the Master.” The pair exchanged looks, as if they thought I was a bit slow between the ears. I grit my teeth against the expletive that rose to my lips, determined to play nice, all the better to… ah, who was I kidding? I had no kind of plan. But it seemed better to play along and hope a chance to escape presented itself.

  “Yes, but where is this master of yours? I mean, does he have a house on the Sound? Are we descending through a crack in the Earth into the fiery pits of Hell?” I prompted them, but they were short on details as they led me to a black Lincoln Continental parked up the street.

  “You’ll see soon enough, miss. But you’ll like Midian, it’s wonnerful fun there, just you wait and see.”

  Hubie immediately smacked his buddy upside the head with a growl. “Runnin’ at the mouth’s apt to get you into a heap of trouble. Best you see to it before I see to it for ya.”

  “Sorry, Hubie.” Properly chastised, Bert focused on shoving me into the front seat of the car to sit between them. Even with a fairly spacious seat it was closer than I wanted to get to either of them and I tried to make myself as small as possible. Conversation fell to a bit of a lull then, as they argued on the best way to get there. Not knowing where they were taking me, I wasn’t able to contribute much to the discussion, but I paid close attention so I’d know my way home should the opportunity present itself.

  Hubie took us to a seedy part of the city, and I regretted the fact that I still wore my outfit from work. If we had to get out and walk for any distance there was way too much skin visible than I was comfortable with, even with my coat on. Then again, what could happen to me when I was with a couple of demons? They’d been charged with delivering me safely, I figured I had very little to worry about until I was delivered. Hubie though, apparently hadn’t given up hope I’d offer a bit of resistance so he could have his ‘taste’.

  “You sure you don’t wanna make a run for it, lovey? Last chance at open ground for a bit,” he grinned as we stepped out of the car in the parking lot for a strip club, ‘The Honey Pot’ emblazoned across the front in flickering neon.

  “Are you kidding? How did you know I love this place?” I quipped, looking up at the entrance dubiously. A regular human being leaned against the front façade, letting out a long plume of smoke. His aura was a virulent red, pitted with dark splotches. I had zero desire to get anywhere near him, but I didn’t see as how I had much choice.

  Bert had a puzzled expression on his face at my reply. “Yeah?”

  “Naw, she’s bammin’ us, Bert. Let’s go then, girlie,” Hubie grumbled at being denied his bit of sport, grabbing hold of my arm and shoving me ahead of him. The guy at the front door looked us over
with interest but didn’t say anything as we passed by.

  Have you ever seen those movies with strip clubs in them? There’s always a well lit runway down the middle and a pretty, topless girl in her early twenties is twirling athletically on a pole right up front while college guys and sad, lonely old men wave at her with dollar bills, right? This place was nothing like that.

  There was a strip down the middle built of linoleum covered plywood and a completely nude girl who looked like she was barely eighteen gyrated on her back, a bored look on her face as she waved her legs in the air, the track marks on her arms plainly visible. The look in her eyes was one of the saddest things I’ve ever seen. They were lifeless, like there was nobody home, she had completely divorced herself from her body. Who knows, I might have done the same thing in her place. I sure as hell wouldn’t have wanted to work in a place like that unless I was stoned out of my mind. The sex on display wasn’t limited to the stage, topless waitresses were the rule, most of them not exactly… in the first flower of youth.

  In addition to the women serving drinks, there were a couple of nearly nude girls that I was willing to bet were employees, grinding against men in their seats. I’ve never been a prude when it comes to sex, but there was nothing sexy about watching those guys get off right there out in the open and seeing the exchange of money. I had to wonder, how did a place like that stay open?

  Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw… my head swiveled around to get another glance because it looked almost like… In the end I decided I must have been mistaken, because personally, I don’t believe vampires actually exist.

  There was a demon behind the bar though and he nodded as we passed by, looking at me with undisguised hunger. Was I that delectable looking on sight, or did my reputation precede me?

  The guys hustled me through the bar past a door in the back and down a flight of stairs that led to a warren of rooms. I didn’t have to be a genius to guess what was happening down there, and again I was almost glad for my demon escort, as it was the last place I wanted to be on my own. At the end of the hallway was a door marked ‘private’, and we didn’t stop, once more passing right through the door to the passageway on the other side. There was little in the way of lighting in the dark, cramped space, and I immediately began to feel claustrophobic.

  “I can’t see where we’re going,” I complained, but the guys didn’t seem to particularly care, and I got the impression there wasn’t much to see anyway. With Hubie prompting me along, we continued on our way. I couldn’t be sure, but it felt like we were going lower, until the light started to grow brighter up ahead and we came to a dead end, the natural rock emanating a faint orange glow.

  There was a strange, falling sensation as we stepped through the rock, like when your stomach drops on a roller coaster, but it stopped as soon as my foot connected with solid ground on the other side. The light was brighter there and we stood in another corridor, the rough hewn, cave-like walls showing we were underground. An enormous man blocked the path, his eyes shining balefully in the unearthly light. He wore pants made from supple brown leather, his brawny torso bare except for the intricate tattoos and the heavy bronze necklace that covered the top part of his chest. Matching bands of metal encircled his wrists. No aura shone from his soul, marking him a demon, and his expression didn’t give me a whole hell of a lot of hope he was the friendly type. Essentially, he scared the hell out of me and I hoped he wasn’t the Master.

  “Hullo, Naberios,” Bert called out cheerily. “Look what we brung back.” The guardian’s eyes raked me over from head to toe, but all he did was grunt in reply. For a moment I thought he wasn’t going to let us pass, but then he stepped aside, giving us room to squeeze by his considerable bulk. As I passed by, he leaned forward, sniffing me with interest, and I hurried by as quickly as I could manage, not wanting him to decide he deserved a ‘taste’.

  “I reckon he likes you,” Hubie chortled once we’d past, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  “Is he um, always there?” I asked with a nervous glance over my shoulder. If so, it would make sneaking out of there all that much more difficult.

  “Yeah, he don’t get out much, poor bloke,” Bert nodded. “But then again, he ain’t exactly the social type, as you might say, so I imagine it suits him fine.”

  The passageway grew lighter and it turned steadily warmer as we continued on, I fancied we were walking uphill after a while. Finally, I had to discard my heavy, winter coat, I was sweating like crazy in the close quarters and I set it down in the corridor with a pang of regret. I loved that coat.

  “Is it much farther?” They ignored my question and I went a couple of minutes before I tried again. “Seriously, is it? Because you guys could have told me to wear more comfortable shoes, my feet are killing me.” Maybe it wasn’t wise to antagonize them, but I’d had a long day at work before getting kidnapped and tromping through miles of corridor to God knew where, and my mood wasn’t exactly the best.

  “Maybe we should kosh her on the head? She’d be easier to manage that way,” Bert whispered and Hubie was quick to give him a smack.

  “Then we’d have to carry her the rest of the way, use your head. Course, then we’d have an excuse to sample a bit of her wares, for the strength to carry on y’see,” he smiled broadly.

  “No koshing!” I interrupted. “I’m good, I can walk just fine.” I hurried my pace, wanting to get out of the damn corridors since I figured demons might not be all that big on self control. It was a surprise when we came out of the tunnel into the open air and I caught sight of our surroundings. We were definitely not in Kansas anymore. Or anything resembling the world I knew.

  The sky above was a mottled, mauvey-purple color, the barren landscape below a sea of jagged, rusty brown rocks and dirt. A slightly unpleasant scent permeated the air, not quite sulfur or brimstone like I expected for a hell type dimension, but definitely off. Like cheap new car smell on a hot, summer day. There were no buildings or cities, it felt like I was in the middle of the desert and I have to admit, apart from feeling a little like I’d wandered onto the set of an old Star Trek episode, it was a little disappointing. “Where is everybody?”

  “Around,” Hubie barked and Bert was a little more helpful.

  “They’s mostly underground. When it’s full on daytime it’s awful bright and most of our lot prefers it a bit more cozy like, beneath the palace.”

  “We’re going to a palace?” I blinked, that sounded promising. It seemed odd that a demon realm or whatever they called it would have such a limitation, and I understood why they kept most of the city out of sight. I opened my mouth to ask another question, but let out a shriek instead as something big and dark buzzed low by my head before taking off into the night sky so fast I couldn’t see much of it beyond the glow of beady red eyes, a mouthful of needlelike teeth and dark leathery wings. “What was that?”

  “Oh, that’s a morfran, ugly buggars,” Hubie spat on the ground. “Wouldn’t let ‘em get too close to you, miss, they especially likes to chew on soft delicacies like you.”

  “I’ll remember that,” I mumbled, my eyes on the skies. For the rest of the walk I kept imagining I heard the beating of those leathery wings, but no more creatures made a pass at me, for which I was incredibly grateful. But then the palace came into view and I forgot to worry about morfrans or hungry demons as the sheer size of it took my breath away. The immense palace had been hewn out of the side of a snow topped mountain range that stretched as far as the eye could see.

  “Stop gawking, girly, Raum don’t like to be kept waitin’,” Hubie grumbled, giving me a good shove and I stumbled forward on exhausted feet.

  “Then this Raum shoulda sent a dune buggy to come and meet us,” I grumbled right back. Why should I be happy about getting dragged halfway across the barren wasteland of hell to meet a demon lord who wanted to keep me as his own personal room service? We completed the rest of the journey in silence, the palace loom
ing up ahead commanding my full attention the closer we got to it. The design reminded me of a Greek or Roman temple with all the columns and detailed stonework, but I’d never seen anything on that scale before.

  The tallest, most ornate balconies I could see were easily thirty floors up, but the lower levels had little more than roughly hewn windows set in the rock. Super. That meant we were probably going to have to climb a crapload of stairs since it was a cinch there were no elevators in hell. Once we got inside, the temperature dropped considerably and I wished I had my coat back. But that couldn’t be helped, and I sure wasn’t going to go back for it.

  It felt like there were a hundred pairs of eyes staring at me as we came in out of the muggy, night air, though there was no one in sight to begin with. But the deeper we got into the main entry hall, the more glimpses I got of demons of every conceivable shape and size. Some were dark and specter-like, as though they were made of shadows and little else; some were scaly with horns and glowing eyes and lots of teeth, scarier than anything I’d ever seen in a movie. Some could definitely pass for human, like the ones I’d met in my neighborhood, but all of them had the one thing in common that marked them as demons - they didn’t have a soul. Peppered among the demon folk I spotted regular humans, their auras muted and dim but still there. None of them looked up to meet my gaze. Eyes downcast, they shuffled along their way looking miserable and broken.

  It turned out I didn’t have to worry about the stairs at all, because a sedan chair waited for me as soon as we reached the end of the main entry hall. Soft, snowy white, fur pelts were tucked around me as I took my place, and I was grateful for the warmth even if the attention made me feel like I was on display. Like Cleopatra, I was borne on the shoulders of human slaves. Unlike the Egyptian queen, I didn’t recline on my chair eating peeled grapes, I sat perched on the edge of it, my nerves strung as tight as a drum. Higher and higher we climbed, and it grew progressively colder the more elevated we got. I forgot all about the cold as we reached a huge open air courtyard at what I imagined was the apex of the compound.

 

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