by Bruce Talmas
“I understand this is all a lot to take in,” I told him, “but keep your wits about you. We’re going to meet a demon tonight. Don’t act spooked. Act like you see them all the time. Like you have demons over for brunch every Sunday. They’re suspicious of people who aren’t ‘in the know,’ if you follow me.”
“What do you mean suspicious?”
“They’ll kill you."
"Great."
"Most demons view people as sheep. Ironic, since you at least have free will. They don’t even have that. Still, they view you on about the same evolutionary rung as a house cat. Maybe lower. They tend to be very racist."
“Fan-fucking-tastic.”
“Relax. It’ll be fine,” I assured him.
“You think so?”
I hesitated to answer, but he deserved the truth. “No. Probably not.”
********
By the time we pulled into the parking lot of Trinity, it was after midnight. Late for some people, but just about time to get the party started for the creatures we were about to meet. There was no sign marking the club, just a full parking lot and the very faint thump of heavy bass coming from behind brick walls. Otherwise, it looked exactly like what it was: an abandoned church.
“What is this place?” Rose asked.
“It’s an after-hours club.”
“It looks illegal.”
“Feel free to go in and arrest them if you want. I’m sure that’ll go over swimmingly. I’ll just wait here.”
“I’m just saying, why haven’t I heard of this place? I am a police officer after all.”
“Which is exactly why you would be the last to know about this place. Besides, the owner probably has dirt on the guy that signs your paychecks. And the guy who signs that guy’s paychecks.”
“Still, they must have permits? Or at least a liquor license?”
I pulled up and stared at him. I had a hard time wrapping my head around his naiveté. I had the feeling this was all going to be a problem for Detective Rose. “Would you let it go, please? You’re probably going to see about a dozen illegal acts before we even get through the front door. I'm talking real freaky shit, okay? You can’t arrest anyone. You can’t cause a scene. And don’t even think about flashing your badge, okay?”
“Fine.”
“Okay then.” I continued walking to the club. Rose was trying to act like a civilian. And failing miserably.
“Just be cool, okay?”
He shrugged. “I’m cool.”
We’re both going to die.
Inside the club was a woman dressed like a vampire sitting behind a desk. Or maybe she was a vampire. It was so hard to tell these days. Twilight fucked everything up. At least she wasn’t sparkling.
“Twenty bucks,” the girl said. I handed her a forty for both of us.
She looked up with a bored mask planted on her face. When she saw Rose, the mask shifted ever-so-slightly: “You a cop?”
His eyes widened. “What? No, I’m not--”
“He’s not on duty,” I finished for him. There was no point denying it. He oozed it from every pore. He probably had his dress uniform on under his clothes, like Clark Kent ready to flash into Supercop.
“We don’t want no trouble,” she said. Still bored, but going through the motions of doing her job.
“Neither do we. Just here to visit a friend.”
She waved us through.
“Real cool,” I told Rose once we were out of earshot.
The bass hit us like a wave as soon as we entered the bar, or church, proper. A band was playing some pretty decent industrial-tinged goth metal. Goth wasn’t really my thing, but I had to admit they were pretty good. A woman came up to me who looked like she was fifty but dressed like she was twelve. She rubbed her hands over my chest, and I stopped it before she could reach my guns, or my cock. I didn’t want her getting hold of either.
I brushed past her and looked over my shoulder at Rose to make sure he wasn’t having an aneurysm. His head was on a swivel. Whether he was looking at the naked girl dancing in a cage, the couple having sex in the corner, or for a phone booth to change into Supercop, I couldn’t tell. I just knew he stuck out like a whore in church. A whore who was having sex with the priest while he gave Communion. I could feel every eye in the room turn his way as we passed. I had to get him out of this crowd or he’d start a riot.
We had to cross the entire dance floor—which had once been the nave of a church—to get to the steps that descended into the real club. The steps were to the left of the stage, which had been converted from an altar sometime in the not-too-distant past. Two big guys dressed in black stood guard.
“You take the one on the left,” I told Rose and started heading toward them.
“What?” he yelled over the music, but I was already moving. He caught up with me. “What?” he repeated.
“Take the one on the left.” I nodded toward the bigger of the two.
“You’re out of your mind!”
“Suit yourself. Take the one on the right.”
He grabbed me by the shoulder and tried to spin me around. I didn’t budge. He took the defeat in stride. “I’m not taking anybody!” he yelled into my ear.
“Fine. I’ll take them both.”
I started walking again. I could feel Rose’s nervous glances as we got closer to the two guards.
The guard on the right took a step toward me as I pulled near. He was my height, so we stood nose-to-nose for an awkward moment. We just stared at each other, neither of us wanting to speak first. The other guard remained where he was, but he was tensed, waiting for a move to be made by either one of us. Both were pros, and not just hired muscle. They were hired demonic muscle.
The guard broke first. Not with words or a fist, but with a big grin. “It’s been a long time, Jacob. Good to see you again.”
I smiled and shook his had. “Hey Mike,” I said. His actual name was Metanbuchus, but it didn’t roll off the tongue too well. He, like Barakiel and Marchosias, had tried to assimilate into modern times by changing his name to something more palatable in today’s world. Thus Mike was born. He was a fallen angel, but he was one of the good ones in my book. He was also Cassandra’s Head of Security.
He looked over my shoulder at Rose. I shrugged and said, “Joe Friday here is with me.”
Mike frowned. “You should be more careful with the company you keep. People will judge.”
I laughed, although I don’t think he was wholly joking. Everything was relative. I’d been a serial killer and a professional killer, but Mike was worried that my reputation—at least in some circles—would be sullied by hanging out with a cop. He was probably right.
I patted him on the shoulder and went down the stairs. A set of double doors at the bottom of the steps was all that separated the downstairs from the club above. It was all that was needed when you had two demons guarding said door.
“Real fucking funny,” Rose said from behind me. I’d almost forgotten he was there. “I thought you were going to get us into a fight back there.”
I smiled in spite of myself. “Relax,” I told him. “You’re too high-strung. You’re gonna have a heart attack by the time you’re forty.”
“I’m forty-two.”
“Hmm. No wonder you’re so high-strung. You’re already on borrowed time.”
“Fuck you.”
I brushed by him and pushed open the double doors. They didn’t just separate the two clubs, they separated Heaven from Hell. Except in Trinity, the positions were reversed. Hell was above, with the freaks and the piercings and the goth music. Heaven was below, in the form of beautiful women sitting in various states of undress, waiting to please the next man who had the power and the money to gain access to this particular part of Heaven. If Heaven had a brothel filled with the loveliest angels it had to offer, it had to look a lot like Trinity. Goth was replaced by Baroque music. Fifty-year old women with C-section scars and track marks were replaced by every variety of beaut
y known to man: nubile, sensual, voluptuous. But all stunning. Even Rose, for all his straight-edge cop bullshit, lost his composure at the sight of them.
“What are we doing here?” he asked, knowing immediately what this place was.
“Looking for my contact.”
“What’s he look like?”
“He’s a she, and you’ll know her when you see her.”
“How?”
“She’ll be the prettiest one here.”
“They’re all the prettiest one here.”
I smiled. “Just wait. You’ll see.”
I did my best to ignore the girls all around me, but it wasn’t easy. I was only half man, but I was still a man. Rose wasn’t faring any better, having resorted to staring intently at the wall, trying mightily to avoid the temptation all around him. I didn’t blame him. One weak moment here could get a man into a lot of trouble. He had a wife who he was, as far as I knew, faithful to. He was too straight-laced not to be. This was possibly the worst place in the world for a faithful husband to find himself.
There were two hallways leading from the room. One on the right side of the room, nearer to us, and one on the left. I crossed the room and entered the hallway on the left. I knew from experience, both biblical and, well, biblical, that Cassandra would be down the left-hand path.
Which led us into a pornographic retelling of Dante’s Inferno. Back to Hell, I supposed, although everyone here seemed to be enjoying their damnation to the utmost. Each room that we passed explored a different and increasingly outlandish sin of the flesh. What began as simple carnal pleasures in the first room quickly devolved into sexual torture, scat, and a host of other grotesqueries that I tried and failed not to witness. Rose was, of course, appalled, but at least kept his disgust unvoiced.
When we got about halfway down the hallway, he muttered to me, “You could have warned me.”
“I thought I did when I said you'd see all kinds of freaky and illegal things. I’ll try to be clearer next time. And would you stop gawking at everything.”
“I can’t help it,” he said. “Why don’t they close the doors if they don’t want us to watch?”
“Because they do want you to watch. People who come to sex clubs usually don’t have too many inhibitions. There’s no shame here.”
“So you’re not bothered by any of this?”
I shrugged. “It’s a little distracting, but I’ve seen worse.”
I started walking once more, but quickly stopped when I caught a glimpse of the activities in the next room. Rose, also focusing on the scene in the room, bumped into me. “Would you stop following so closely? This is awkward enough without you up my ass.”
“Sorry," he mumbled. "But how do you think I feel?"
He stopped when he realized I wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. The room held the bulk of my attention. Not the room itself, and certainly not the three naked men with erections worshipping the woman on the bed. It was the woman herself that held my attention. And, upon seeing her, Rose’s. And any other man who’d ever laid eyes on her.
“Cassandra.” My voice came out as a rasp. The saliva had suddenly fled my mouth.
The woman on the bed looked up. Her eyes lit up as she laid eyes on me.
“Jacob!” she squealed.
She jumped to her feet and rushed me, knocking over one of the worshipping men as she did so. I caught her as she jumped into my arms and stuck her tongue down my throat. If she was aware that she was fully naked, she didn’t show it.
The kiss lasted a full minute before she disengaged enough to look at me.
“You look fantastic,” she said.
Judge my looks by any standard known to man, angel, or demon, and on my best day I wouldn’t be a tenth as appealing as she was on her worst day. She was, anyone would agree, the most beautiful creature that had ever set foot in this world. She was a Seductress, so looks were a given, but that didn’t even begin to define her beauty. She was the Queen of the Seductresses, and it showed. She had long, black hair. Her features were indeterminately exotic. At times she looked Asian, at other times Hispanic, and other times like something else entirely. But she always looked unequivocally like Cassandra, if that made any sense. Which it wouldn’t, if it were anyone but her. She was about 5’5”, but perfectly proportioned. I could almost forgive Marchosias for shooting me in the chest over her.
“You don’t look too bad either,” I said.
She reached out and grabbed my cock through my jeans. “If that’s how you feel for ‘not too bad,’ I’d hate to see what would happen if I looked good,” she said.
Next to us—about a foot away, actually, though I’d completely forgotten about him and everything else in the world—Rose cleared his throat. I pulled back from Cassandra and introduced them. “Cass, this is Thomas Rose. Rose, this is Cassandra.”
I’d thought he cleared his throat to remind us he was still there, but now I saw that he was just trying to get his voice back. Cassandra had that effect on people. It was one of the reasons I didn’t come to see her right away. I had to prepare my defenses against her; otherwise, I’d just be one of the scores of other men she’s ripped apart and claimed as her own. However much I liked her, I couldn’t forget she was still a demon, and a brutally effective one at that.
“Nice to meet you, Thomas,” she gave him a hug. I could see he was not comfortable with hugging a naked woman, but he stood absolutely no chance at resisting it. Lots of men have tried, and none of them had ever succeeded. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and let her lips linger there for a second. When she pulled away, I thought he was going to pass out. I realized then how unfair it was bringing him here. He would judge himself for the thoughts he was thinking, but they weren’t his fault. It was all Cassandra’s doing.
“Nice…meeting you,” he managed. Cass looked at me and smiled. She loved the easily embarrassed ones.
“He’s cute,” she said to me.
She turned back into the bedroom. Her three lovers were simply standing around waiting for her to tell them what to do. Vacant stares from each of them proved they were already under her spell. Poor bastards.
“Leave us,” she said. They left the room without a word. I stepped aside to avoid making contact with the their erections as they passed.
She put on a Japanese kimono. She didn’t bother tying it around her. Just let it hang open for all the world to see her perfect form. It was, in my opinion, even more sensual than being naked. Despite it being utterly distracting, I didn’t voice my complaints.
Rose cleared his throat again. His knees gave way and he sat down in a chair next to a large mahogany desk. I guessed that this was Cassandra’s office and her sex lair rolled into one. When sex was your business, no need to distinguish between the two.
Rose was beginning to get the same vacant stare that the three men had displayed. That worried me a little, but there was business that needed to be discussed.
Cassandra lay back down on the bed and spread her legs, keeping her eyes on me the whole time. She started to finger herself absently.
“So, we have a lot to talk about, yes?”
Chapter 25
“Marchosias sends his love,” I told her. I don’t know why I mentioned him first. Just getting it out of the way, I guess. It might have had to do with her masturbating in front of us. It made it very difficult to keep a rational thought in my head. I could feel her feeding off of mine and Rose’s desires like she was licking frosting off a birthday cake.
“He’s a dear. How is my big boy scout doing?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “We didn’t really talk for very long. Just long enough for him to shoot me in the chest.”
She frowned, but didn’t quit playing with herself. “You certainly do bring out the best in people, Jacob.”
I shrugged.
“He always had a temper. Even when we were together, he was always going around shooting this guy or stabbing that guy or bludgeoning some other poor guy
. He had a good heart, but it was a little too much drama for me.”
“He’s mellowed a little bit, but not much.”
“And how’s your dad? The little priest? He’s so adorable.”
“He’s good,” I said. Mind you, she was still fingering herself at this point, which made a conversation regarding my father the priest slightly surreal. My brain was only half on the conversation, the rest of it was still trying to restore my equilibrium, and failing at that. I’m sure the whole scene was even more bizarre for Rose, but for Cassandra this was no different than eating a meal with someone else in the room. It was nourishment, plain and simple, and she enjoyed playing with her food.
I leaned against the dresser, trying to play cool. “Could you stop doing that please?” I asked. I was not going to try to have a normal conversation with the most beautiful woman in the world while she masturbated in front of me.
She continued for a little longer, but eventually brought the show to a reluctant close. She gave me a pouty look and threw the kimono over her hips. “I thought you liked that,” she said.
“Every man on the planet would like that, but it makes it difficult to carry on a conversation.”
“Fine, but since you interrupted my evening session, if you want to have any kind of worthwhile discussion, I need to get my mind right. I can’t concentrate while I’m hungry.”
I assumed her ‘evening session’ involved the three men we had found her with when we got there. And by ‘get my mind right,’ I assumed she meant she wanted me to fuck her.
“Cass, if we could just skip—”
“—It’s the only way I’m going to talk,” she said. She sounded like a little kid trying to bargain with her parents to stay up past her bedtime. An analogy that left me even more unsettled than I already was. But when I really thought about it, there were worse ways to try to get somebody to talk.
I turned to Rose, “Could you give us a minute?”