Chapter 2: French Kiss
Joan Simone watched the strange man dressed up like the Great Duke of Hell, Dantalion, run away from her and across the street. “Wow…he really did look a lot like Dantalion.” She felt an unexpected pang in her chest at the thought. “Didn’t he, Michael?” Joan turned to address her dog.
Michael was still barking and growling in Dantalion’s direction. The dog looked to his left and right before grabbing onto Joan’s dress with his maw and tugging her off the sidewalk.
“What’s the matter, Michael?” Joan asked, and her brow furrowed. She allowed her dog to pull her into a more secluded area of the park. The dog looked around again to make sure no one was nearby before he opened his mouth to speak.
“Joan, you fool. That was Dantalion! He’s finally shown himself…that slippery bastard! You must go after him.” Michael exclaimed in a rough voice.
Joan blinked down at her dog. She wasn’t surprised that her dog was speaking, however. This was perfectly normal. Well, normal for her anyways. Her golden retriever was actually a guardian angel in disguise. “You’re kidding, right? That was really Dantalion?” Joan mused aloud, a wistful note to her voice.
Michael noticed that wistful tone and growled low in his throat in response. That darned demon had already caused Joan to fall out of God’s good graces once. He would not allow that to happen again!
There was a reason why Joan was hesitating. The memories of Joan’s past life were still unclear to her, but…she remembered Dantalion. And she remembered enough to doubt Michael’s claim that Dantalion was a being of pure evil, and that if she ever encountered him again that she needed to destroy him immediately.
Michael looked like he was trying to raise an eyebrow at her. Well, as much as a dog can raise his eyebrow anyways. Joan sighed, realizing she didn’t really have a choice. The life she was currently living was her ‘second chance’ to redeem herself of her past sins.
Joan’s best friend, Kimberley Eden, was going to be so mad at her for ditching her again. She was always blowing her friends off at odd times because of her ‘part-time job’ of killing invisible lesser demons that apparently New York City was infested with.
Most demons were in Hell where they belonged, but the smaller lesser demons and minions were sometimes able to slip through the cracks in the wall that kept demons in Hell, and travel to Earth to terrorize and possess humans. Other demonic spirits that Joan was charged with exorcizing and sending to Hell were the dead Nephilim. The Nephilim were the spawn of angels that fell in love with human women and married them during the days of Noah. Because the Nephilim were a race of evil giants God sent the flood to wipe them out. Now, those dead hybrids, half-angel half-human spirits wandered about New York City while trying to possess human bodies.
Joan let out a heavy sigh thinking about how simple things would be if her dog never revealed that he could talk, was her guardian angel, and that she was the reincarnation of Jeanne d’Arc. After that he’d given her Jeanne’s silver cross, which had awakened the memories of her past life and given her supernatural powers that enabled her to exorcise demons.
Joan just wished things could return to normal. Before the accident, when a car had her hit hers from behind resulting in breaking her leg, Joan had been a professional tennis player. And she’d been damned good at it too. She’d always been good at wielding things and a tennis racket was no exception. She’d won countless tournaments and had even managed to win a Golden Grand Slam for herself. But now with the slight limp in her right leg, her dreams of playing tennis professionally had been shattered. It was around this time that her dog started talking to her.
If only she didn’t remember her past life, she could try and live a normal life. She wouldn’t be God’s Chosen Warrior, who was supposedly in charge of protecting this entire city from invisible demons and evil spirits that no one believed in anymore. She saved people’s lives on a daily basis and never got so much as a ‘thank you’ for it. It kind of sucked.
These lesser demons were invisible to the human eye, possessed humans, and made them do things. Horrible things. For example, there was a man who’d dressed up as the Joker and opened fire at a midnight screening of The Dark Knight Rises at a movie theater. He’d been demon possessed and managed to kill twelve people. That’s why the young man’s friends had been so surprised by his sudden behavioral change. Joan exorcized the demon afterwards but it was already too late. The damage had been done.
Another case of demonic possession had involved two bombers that had set a bomb off at the Boston Marathon. One of the men had been demon possessed and the demon had been a pain to exorcise. The young man’s friends had told the authorities that he’d been a nice, normal young man, and in the end he’d begged to die when he’d regained control of his body for a few seconds.
Then there was the demon possessed gunman who walked into LAX and pulled out an assault rifle. He opened fire and killed a Transportation Security Administration agent and wounded several others at the airport. Unfortunately, demon possessed individuals could do a lot of damage. And it wasn’t like Joan could teleport from one city to another in order to exorcise demons. So most of the time she ended up going to the locations of where a demon possessed incident occurred, exorcized the demon responsible for the damage, and then returned home.
Michael had warned Joan that since they were now living in the End of Days, that things were only going to get worse with more and more people getting demon possessed, and lashing out in seemingly random or unexpected acts of violence. But since people didn’t believe in demons and magic anymore they had forgotten how to protect themselves against demons.
Michael taught Joan that the best ways to combat demons was with prayer, the crucifix, holy water, salt, and taking communion on a regular basis. A person could also get rid of a demon by simply saying: ‘In the name of Jesus Christ, I command you to begone, demon!’ However, this didn’t work all the time if the person lacked sufficient faith.
The only people who were supposed to perform exorcisms were priests and those exorcisms needed to be performed on hollowed ground. The priest would need to accept that the power to exorcise demons did not come from himself but Christ. Pride was an exorcist’s downfall.
Michael had gone on to explain how in these days, there were more and more atheists - the perfect prey for lesser demons and evil spirits apparently since they had no divine protection against them. Michael had called those people: easy prey. And so it was Joan’s job to protect them.
According to Michael’s information network, there was a demon in New York City that was gating in more and more lesser demons. If what Michael said was true and the man she’d just see really was Dantalion then there was no question about what his true intentions were. Dantalion must be the one gating in demons and if that were true…Joan needed to track Dantalion down, kill him, and thereby redeem herself in the eyes of God.
Joan ran across the street in the direction she’d seen Dantalion go. She continued down the sidewalk and looked around for any sign of the elusive demon, but could find none. That’s when she caught sight of a young woman dressed up like Jeanne d’Arc ironically enough. The young woman was crying while her group of friends, who were also in costume, stood around and comforted her.
Joan approached the group and looked at the young woman in concern. Her stomach felt like it was tying itself up into knots. Had Dantalion harmed this young woman? She wondered. “Excuse me…are you alright?” Joan held her breath as she awaited the girl’s answer.
The teary-eyed young woman looked up, met Joan’s green eyes, and sniffled. “Yea.”
“I’m sorry but would you mind telling me what happened here? I’m searching for someone…suspicious. A tall, muscular man with dark hair, golden eyes, and a cloak. This I going to sound stupid but…he looks like a demon prince.”
The girl’s eyes widened in recognition and her expression turned fearful. “That’s him! That’s t
he man who attacked me!”
“Attacked you?” Joan felt the knots inside of her stomach grow even tighter.
The girl nodded. “Yes…I was just minding my own business when that guy grabbed onto me, and began to ask me all sorts of strange questions. Like what I was doing here and why I’d betrayed him. He was completely crazy!”
Joan sucked in a breath at the girl’s words. “He really asked you that? He asked why you betrayed him?”
The girl nodded and gave Joan a confused look. “Yea, that’s what I just said. He also said that I didn’t need to be afraid. He acted like I should know him. He said his name was Dantalion.”
“Dantalion.” Joan breathed. So it’s true then. He’s really here. But how? Why?
Michael growled low in his throat.
The girl’s eyes narrowed at Joan suspiciously. “Do you know him or something?”
Joan was snapped out of her thoughts by the girl’s sudden accusatory tone. “Ah, yes, he’s an escaped mental patient. I’ve been charged with bringing him back to the church. Don’t worry. I’ll retrieve him and get him off the streets as soon as I can find him.” Joan assured the girl with a strained smile. She’d just made up a load of crap but hopefully that girl would believe it.
The suspicion immediately left the girl’s eyes. “Ah, but…the police took him.” She explained helpfully.
“Police?” Joan had a really bad feeling about this.
“Yes…two cops came over and helped me.” The girl’s look turned a little dreamy as she remembered how the young cops had rushed to her rescue. She realized that she should have asked for their number, but at the time she’d been too terrified of Dantalion to be thinking about things like that. “They arrested him and took him away in their car.”
Joan gave the girl a skeptical look. “You’re saying Dantalion let himself be arrested?”
The girl nodded and looked offended that Joan didn’t believe her. “Yes…but it was terrifying! He began to unsheathe his sword and for a moment I really thought he was going to attack those cops! The look that was in his golden eyes…” The girl shuddered as she recalled that murderous stare. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
Joan looked down at her dog and raised an eyebrow at him. “So Dantalion let himself be arrested.” She repeated for Michael’s benefit.
The girl nodded giving Joan an irritated look as she flipped her short hair. “Yea, that’s what I just said. He was even handcuffed.”
“Handcuffed, huh? Which way did they go?” Joan demanded as she turned her attention back to the girl dressed up like her past self. That still kind of creeped her out.
“That way, towards the station.” The girl pointed down the street.
Joan nodded. “Thank you.” She took off running down the sidewalk before realizing there was no way she’d be able to catch up to the car in her ‘human form’. Joan ducked behind a tree and looked around to make sure no one was watching her before she clasped the silver cross that was dangling around her neck.
Joan took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and summoned the cross’ power. “Transform…Jeanne d’Arc!” The cross began to glow brightly with a pure, warm, golden light and then she began to transform. Her costume morphed into shinning, golden armor, and a glowing, golden, double-edged, medieval sword materialized at her hip. She also became invisible to the human eye. A halo of soft, yellow light was enveloping her body.
After that Joan’s dog, Michael, transformed too. The golden retriever increased in size until he was six hundred pounds. Two white, feathery wings emerged from the dog’s back and flared impressively. The dog also became invisible. In this form Joan was able to ride Michael and he could fly her wherever she needed to go.
Joan quickly mounted Michael and gripped his fur with her hands. “Let’s go Michael.” She said and Michael took off running down the sidewalk. With a flap of his wings they shot up into the sky and soared over the nearby buildings. It wasn’t long before they saw smoke rising in the distance. A feeling of absolute dread washed over Joan at the mere sight of that smoke. She hated fire. Feared fire with every fiber of her being. “What’s that?”
“It’s coming from the direction of the library.” Michael informed her. “We’ll go take a closer look.” Before Joan could object Michael began to fly towards the rising smoke. He turned a corner and they came face to face with the library. The entire building was on fire. Its windows had shattered and wicked red flames were already climbing out of the windows and licking the exterior walls.
“It’s on fire.” Joan murmured. At that moment, there was another explosion causing more windows to shatter. Sharp glass shards were sent flying through the air and more flames burst from the windows. She flinched. The flames suddenly mesmerized her. Those scorching, hot, merciless, red, orange and yellow flames…
As she watched, the heat seemed to increase all around her. She could almost feel the flames licking her skin…slowly burning the flesh off her bones.
She was tied to a stake. God had forsaken her and no one was coming to her rescue. All because she’d fallen in love with a handsome demon and had refused to kill him. But…she would not forsake her belief in God to save herself. She would accept God’s punishment for her sin of loving a demon and she would burn.
The wood beneath her was set on fire and began to blaze. The flames crept up the wood and began to catch the bottom of her dress on fire. Slowly, the flames began to consume her entire outfit and once the material of her dress was burned away the flames concentrated on what was left - her flesh.
The pain of having her flesh burned off her bones…was excruciating. And she had been awake for far longer than she wished. She should have cried out for God’s help but the last thought in her mind was none other than the demon who had placed her there: Dantalion! She looked down at her arm and could see her own bone. That was the last thing she remembered seeing before darkness enveloped her.
More than five centuries later and the memory of being burned alive was still fresh in Joan’s mind. Some parts of the memory of her past life were still blurry, but unfortunately she remembered her own demise as if it had happened yesterday. Anytime Joan saw fire or was near it she was plunged into that horrible memory and consumed by it.
That’s why Joan froze up in terror as she watched the burning library. Her green eyes reflected the violent flames. Joan gripped her head with her two hands and let out a bloodcurdling scream. After that, she fainted, no longer able to handle the memory of being burned alive. She ended up falling sideways and fell right off of Michael’s back. She was falling…falling…to the ground.
“Joan!” Michael swooped down after her and managed to catch her so that she landed on his back. Michael landed and looked around for a place to set Joan down that was out of the way so that pedestrians wouldn’t step on her invisible body. Having found a nice secluded spot behind a tree that was on the library lawn, Michael set Joan down on the ground gently. He shook his head at the unconscious girl. He should have known better than to get her that close to the flames. Some guardian angel I am. Michael berated himself and guilt made his stomach tighten.
A few hours later, Joan awoke to her dog, Michael, licking her face. “Ugh, Michael, don’t do that. Yuck.” She quickly sat up and pushed her dog off of her. Joan looked around and tried to remember what had just happened. “Where am I?” Well, obviously she could tell that she was hidden behind a tree. She stood up and peered around the tree to see several fire trucks parked out front of a now smoking library. Thankfully the fire had already been put out. She let out a sigh of relief and shuddered. That’s right, the fire. She remembered and wrapped her arms around her still trembling body. She hated how weak she was around fire. Before she remembered her past life Joan never used to have a problem with fire but now…
“You really need to do something about your fear of fire.” Michael chided her. “What’s going to happen if the demons discover your weakness and use it
against you?” His tone was chiding but Joan could also hear the worry in his tone. “And because you fainted we lost track of Dantalion.”
Joan put a hand to her forehead and groaned. “Sorry.” She looked down at her watch, it read: three o’clock AM. “Crap…I missed Kimberley’s Halloween party. She’s going to kill me.” She let out a disappointed sigh. “I really wanted to go to that too. This is all your fault Dantalion!” It was nice to blame things on the demon.
“We could still continue our search for him.” Michael suggested and Joan could tell he was excited by the prospect. Michael was a total workaholic. If he had things his way Joan would be tracking down and exorcising demons and evil spirits 24-7 aka she’d have no life. Joan gave Michael an exasperated look. “I’m tired. I just want to go home and crash.”
Michael did not look pleased with Joan’s decision but eventually let out a heavy sigh. “Alright, fine. Tomorrow though we shall resume our search for that wretched demon.”
“Yea, yea.” Joan agreed as she hopped onto Michael’s back. “Let’s go home.”
When Michael felt Joan grip the hair on the back of his neck he ran forward, flapped his wings, and took off into the sky. They soared past several skyscrapers on the way back to Joan’s apartment building. Even though it was already three o’clock in the morning there were still several people dressed in their Halloween costumes walking on the sidewalks. New York City was ‘the city that never sleeps’ after all.
Just as they were passing an Irish pub the strangest thing happened. Michael suddenly sensed a malevolent presence and immediately came to a halt. He flapped his wings so that they flew backwards and away from the pub’s front window.
“Michael, what the hell?” Joan asked as she gripped on for dear life. “What is-” Her words died in her throat as a horse suddenly burst through the front window. The horse was enormous with a glossy, black coat and glowing, red eyes. A woman wearing a dark green, velvet gown was riding the horse. There were only two problems with this. One, the woman was dead. Joan could tell that she was a ghost due to her semi-transparent body. And two, the woman had no head.
Before Joan could decide if the ghost woman was an evil spirit that needed to be exorcised the headless horsewoman had ridden quite a ways away down the sidewalk in a clatter of hooves. “Was that…?” Joan murmured.
“A headless horsewoman?” Michael asked. “Yes. That was a dullahan.”
“Do we need to exorcise her?” Joan asked with a frown on her face.
“It’s Halloween, Joan. It’s normal for evil spirits to be out and about, you know.” Michael told her in a dry tone.
Joan rolled her eyes at the Archangel. “I know that. But…is a headless horsewoman a normal kind of spirit?” She couldn’t help but be impressed by the dullahan.
“Just leave her be, Joan. Your mission is to exorcise demons not ghosts. Let’s go home.” Without further ado Michael took another route to Joan’s apartment building.
Joan was glad that Michael hadn’t forced her to go after that creepy evil spirit. There had been something intimidating about that headless horsewoman, and Joan really didn’t want to mess with her. It didn’t take long for them to arrive at her apartment building. Michael landed on the balcony of Joan’s top floor apartment. The apartment building was nice, but the only reason she was able to afford such a nice place was because of the prize money she’d gotten from winning those tennis tournaments. Unfortunately, her savings had been dwindling down pretty fast, now that she was unemployed.
Joan realized that if she wanted to keep her nice apartment that she’d have to find a job. A-SAP. Joan always kept the windowed doors of her balcony unlocked, and so she easily made her way inside of her bedroom. She was able to navigate her way through the darkness and to a light switch without falling on her butt since she knew the layout of her room by heart.
As the lights were turned on a conservatively decorated bedroom was revealed. Joan had furnished most of her bedroom with items from Pier 1 Imports. She had a bed with a white, wooden headboard, and a sunny, canary yellow comforter with matching pillows. There were two bedside tables, a chestnut dresser, and a matching vanity table. She liked to think of the way she’d decorated her room as ‘shabby chic’. On her dresser were pictures of her and her best friend Kim. On the walls there were framed photographs of Joan and her sister Cathy. There were no photographs of Joan’s parents inside of her house. Ever since their falling out it just hadn’t felt right.
In a special glass cabinet Joan had all of the medals, trophies, and awards displayed that she’d won in her various tennis tournaments and the Olympics. Joan was sure that her bedroom looked just like any other normal twenty-five year old woman’s bedroom. No one would be able to guess that she was actually the reincarnation of Jeanne d’Arc. She sighed at the thought. Every girl she knew would love the idea of being the reincarnation of Jeanne d’Arc, but none of them understood the reality of it.
Joan was so afraid of fire that she had to microwave everything. She couldn’t even stand the sight of the flames on her own stove. Joan couldn’t light a match without having convulsions, so had never gotten addicted to smoking. It was ridiculous. Anytime someone lit up a cigarette around her she’d flinch, and hold her breath, praying for the flame to die down and disappear back inside its evil holding chamber aka a Zippo.
She was sure other girls her age didn’t have to go out at midnight and hunt down lesser demons and evil spirits until the crack of dawn. Why did I have to be the reincarnation of Jeanne d’Arc? Why couldn’t I have been the reincarnation of someone harmless like…Marilyn Monroe. Joan looked down at her breasts. They were bigger in my past life, darn it.
Joan stubbornly couldn’t get over the fact that her life used to be so normal…so perfect…before demons had come into her life. Before her dog had opened up his mouth and uttered the ominous words: ‘It’s time, for you to awaken, Jeanne.’ The only thing I got out of being the reincarnation of Jeanne d’Arc is violent tendencies and a job I don’t want. Joan transformed back into her human form and her Halloween costume reappeared. The nun outfit had been Kimberley’s idea of a joke. Joan had told her friend she wanted a ‘conservative’ Halloween costume and Kimberley had shown up at Joan’s place with the nun costume.
Since Joan hadn’t bothered to get a Halloween costume on her own she’d had no choice but to don the nun outfit. Joan was a feminist so normally she didn’t wear skirts. She just didn’t believe in it. Joan didn’t know how Kimberley had managed to convince her to go to her Halloween party anyways. Parties were events where people got drunk, found someone of the opposite sex to make out with, and then have sex with. But Joan wasn’t the type to just randomly ‘hook up’ with anyone. Sure she’d tried to but…those guys had never felt ‘right’. Joan always told her friend Kim that she was simply waiting for ‘the one’.
Of course, her friend Kimberley had teased her about this, but now that Joan was twenty-five and still a virgin her friend now respected her decision and was rooting for her to find her Mr. Right. Though at this point, Joan was getting discouraged that she’d ever find him. You’ve already found him. Dantalion is back. A little voice piped up in her mind, causing her cheeks to redden. She shook her head viciously. No, I will not fall in love with that demon again. I hate him. He betrayed me. And if I see him…I will kill him. Maybe I should make myself a profile on Match.com and try and date some nice, normal human guys.
Unfortunately, ever since she’d gotten her memory back there was only one man on her mind, and he definitely wasn’t normal or human, but a demon. God forgive me. Joan got ready for bed and forced all thoughts of Dantalion from her mind. When she fell onto her bed sleep overtook her instantly. She woke up the next morning to the sound of her alarm clock going off at eight o’clock. It was nice getting to sleep in. When she still had tennis training and weight lifting to do she had to start her day at six o’clock.
Her cell phone began to ring, playing th
e ringtone: Radioactive. Joan scrambled for her phone that was sitting on her bedside table, grabbed it, and quickly answered the call with a swipe of her finger.
“Hey Joan, it’s Kim. Where the hell were you last night, girl?” Joan could hear the hurt in Kimberley’s voice.
Joan groaned, fell back onto her bed, and looked up at her ceiling. “Kim, I’m so sorry about last night. Something came up.” She began to chew on her lower lip. She hated having to lie to her best friend but…Michael said she wasn’t allowed to tell Kim about the demons. It was for Kim’s own protection, he’d said.
“Doesn’t it always? Whatever. No big. I’m used to it. Say, what are you doing right now?” There was a note of excitement in Kim’s voice now.
“I just got up. Why?” Joan asked warily. Kim was definitely up to something. And that ‘something’ usually included getting Joan to wear a skirt or go on a blind date.
“Hmm.” Joan could almost picture the cat’s paw smile that was forming on her friend’s face. “Why don’t we grab breakfast together and I can also show you my latest crush.”
Joan raised an eyebrow at that. “What about Bobby?”
“That was like two weeks ago!”
“Luke?”
“So yesterday’s news.”
“So now it’s…?”
“Gilebert, of course.”
“Gilebert?”
“He’s French. He has the most dreamy accent.” Kim let out a wistful sigh.
Joan couldn’t stop the amused smile that curled her lips. “And where does Gilebert work?”
“At the hottest café in town of course. 23 Cornelia Street Café.”
Joan blinked. “Cornelia Street Café? Since when is that little cafe the hottest place in town?”
Kimberley giggled over the phone. “Since my Gilebert started working there of course. So meet you there?”
“Uh, sure.”
“Great. See you soon.” Kimberley ended the call.
“What did Kimberly want?” Michael asked as he trotted over to Joan’s bed, stood up on his hind legs, and put his paws on the mattress.
Joan sat up, reached out, and scratched Michael behind his ear absentmindedly. Michael had told her time and time again not to do that, but she knew he liked it. Already his left hind leg was beginning to twitch and he was leaning into her touch. If Michael had been trapped in the body of a cat he would have already been purring. “She wants us to have breakfast together.”
“You should be searching the city for Dantalion.” Michael argued in his no nonsense tone. “Not fooling around and wasting time.”
Joan let out a sigh and rolled her eyes. “Dantalion can wait. I have a social life. And I’m sick and tired of running around the city and killing invisible demons every night and getting hurt for people I don’t even know. I just want to live a normal life. That’s why you’re going to stay here. I can always hunt demons at night. That’s when they usually come out anyways, right?”
Without waiting for Michael’s response, Joan hopped off the bed, and made her way over to her dresser. She opened a drawer and fished around in it for a clean bra and matching underwear. She never could find the right match, however, and ended up choosing a blue bra and green panties. Whatever. She shrugged. It wasn’t like anyone was going to see her in it. She opened another drawer and pulled out a simple baby blue t-shirt and a pair of faded jeans.
“Demons are always awake regardless of the time of day.” Michael proclaimed as he followed her around the bedroom.
“Argh!” Joan threw her hands up into the air. “Well, I don’t care! We’re going to set some ground rules for this demon hunting business, Michael. Only at night and only when it doesn’t conflict with my social schedule. I’m sick of blowing off my friends for this crap!” Joan would have said ‘shxx’ but Michael would nag her to death when she swore so she’d gotten into the habit of simply not swearing.
“Joan, you can’t decide that on your own. When your cross detects a demon - it must be pursued.” Michael argued firmly.
Joan reached up and removed the silver cross she was wearing before tossing it to the bed. The silver cross was more than five hundred years old. It was a cross of Lorraine - a two-barred cross that consisted of a vertical bar crossed by two short horizontal bars. The horizontal bars were ‘graded’ with the upper bar being shorter. “Not if I don’t have this stupid thing with me! Now, I’m going to go have breakfast with my friend, and then go look for a job. When I get home, that’s when we can go demon hunting.”
“Joan, God will be very displeased with you if you do this.” Michael warned in a gravely voice. “You realize this life is your second chance to redeem your soul by stopping the demon who is gating in all these lesser demons. And that demon must be Dantalion.”
There was that twisting feeling in her stomach again. “I never asked for this. I never asked to be the reincarnation of Jeanne d’Arc! I’m not that person. I’m me. And in this life I don’t want to have anything to do with demons! I just wanted to play tennis but…even that was taken away from me.” Joan’s voice was tinged with bitterness and regret. She stomped angrily into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her.
Michael let out a sigh. His heart felt heavy. Modern-day women, especially the feminists of the twenty-first century were so hard to deal with. Five hundred and eighty-four years ago, Joan had been much easier to deal with and guide with visions. But now she wanted no part in her true destiny. Michael hung his head dejectedly. He was failing in his duty as Joan’s guardian angel.
He was supposed to protect her, and guide her to take the right path. He’d even made the sacrifice of being trapped in the body of a dog so that he could stay by Joan’s side until the Apocalypse. He just wanted Joan to be safe and for her soul to be redeemed so that she’d be able to enter heaven at the time of her death. That way they could be together. He didn’t want to be the ‘bad guy’ as Joan tended to see him.
Joan took a shower and let the hot water calm her down before she strangled her cute dog. She knew that Michael meant well but sometimes he really got on her nerves. She showered quickly, brushed her teeth, and got dressed. As she opened her bathroom door a cloud of steam entered her bedroom, which was several degrees colder. She grabbed her knee boots out of her closet and quickly put them on.
Joan could feel Michael’s judging golden-brown eyes on her as she grabbed her jacket, purse, and car keys before heading out the door. She’d parked her dark green Volvo (with tan leather interior) a block away from her apartment building. She got into her car, turned on the engine and drove to Cornelia Street Café. Joan liked her Volvo. It was a nice, practical car. Not at all like the red convertible that almost got her killed. It didn’t take her very long to arrive at the café. Finding parking was a problem and she ended up having to park two blocks away. She got out of her car and walked down the sidewalk. “What the?” There was a line of customers that was two blocks long in front of the café.
Cornelia Street Café was a nice café right on a New York main street with outdoor tables, and an old-fashioned awning that was decorated with red and white stripes. The café was very airy with several doors that had been thrown wide-open, so potential customers could see right into the café. Joan was even able to see the bar that was off to the right side. To the left were several tables that took up the remaining floor space. Joan frowned as she pondered about whether or not she should make the line or cut. She knew that she was supposed to be a Saint, but whatever.
Before she could make up her mind, however, she heard her friend’s voice calling out to her: “Joan! Over here!”
Joan looked around and spotted her best friend, Kimberley, seated at one of the tables inside of the café already. Sweet. Kimberley smiled at Joan showing off her pearly white teeth and waved at her friend. “Get your butt over here!”
Joan smirked before making her way over to her friend’s table and taking a seat. “Hey Kim. How earl
y did you have to get here in order to get a table?”
Kimberley grinned. “Five o’clock this morning.” The blonde admitted in a nonchalant tone.
Joan’s eyes bugged. “No way. You’ve been here since five?” This Gilebert guy must really be something else.
Kimberley propped her chin in her hand showing off her pink painted fingernails as she stared off in the direction of the bar. “And it’s been worth every single minute. I’m not going to give up this table. Ever.”
Joan watched as her friend let out a wistful sigh and rolled her eyes. She followed her friend’s gaze to the bar and caught sight of the male barista. Joan’s eyes widened. She could suddenly understand why her friend had made such a big deal about this place.
Standing behind the bar was a real nice piece of man-candy. Gilebert was tall, nicely muscled though not as muscular as Dantalion. He was six-three, again he was a little shorter than Dantalion who was six-five. Joan bit the inside of her cheek when she realized she’d been comparing this man to Dantalion. She shook her head and continued to check the guy out unabashedly. He had brown, curly hair that fell to his shoulders and handsome facial features - a straight, aquiline nose, and a square chin with a dimple in it. His skin was pale but slightly sun-kissed. The pair of Ray-Bans that he was wearing unfortunately covered the barista’s eyes.
What guy wears their hair long anymore? Joan mused appreciatively. It’s nice to see that for a change. The barista was wearing a white, button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a black vest, and a black tie. A stylish black fedora sat on his head. Wearing sunglasses indoors was a little eccentric, but other than that Joan had to admit the guy was pretty hot.
Although the longer Joan looked at him she felt like there was something…unsettling about him. Joan’s hand went reflexively to clasp the cross that was usually dangling around her neck only to remember that she’d decided to leave the Demon Detector at home. She dropped her hand into her lap and frowned. What the hell am I thinking anyways? Not every good-looking guy is a demon. Not that I think Dantalion is good-looking or anything. I hate his guts.
Even as she thought this Joan couldn’t help but picture Dantalion in her mind. That silky, wavy, black hair, his fierce golden eyes, his marble-like skin, those kissable lips, and his hard, muscled body. Kissable lips? I did not just think that. She chided herself. If I had to choose…not going there, Joan. Great, now I’m talking to myself.
Kimberley giggled and Joan returned her attention back to her friend. “You see, even Joan the Nun can appreciate how good-looking that guy is and you’re usually so picky. Sorry to tell you this, girl, but I’ve got dibs. I saw him first. That man-candy is mine.” She licked her glossy lips.
Joan snorted. “Yours? Oh really? And does he know about this?”
Kimberley shook her head sending her blonde ringlets bouncing about her shoulders. “No, but you know me, I always get what I want. And right now I want him.”
Joan rolled her eyes at her confident friend. Kimberley was right though. She always did get what she wanted. Her friend Kim was smoking hot. Not that she was a lesbian or anything. Kimberley was tall, blonde, with a curvaceous figure that women would kill for. Her eyes were the color of honey or amber, and her lashes were long and dark. She had cherubic cheeks and a cute, sloping nose that gave her that All-American Girl look.
It was no surprise that Kimberley was a professional supermodel. She was also very feminine and liked to wear anything that was pink or flower-printed. Joan, on the other hand, hated pink, hated skirts, and hated anything with flowers on it. Kimberley worshiped the clothing designer Betsy Johnson, and spent most of the money she earned as a model on BJ clothes - as she liked to call them.
Other girls would have felt intimidated being in Kimberley’s presence but Joan didn’t really give her appearance too much thought. Joan didn’t want to waste her time styling her hair every morning, so she’d had it cut into a sleek, chin-length bob. Her hair was a boring brown color, but she thought it was too much trouble to dye it or get it highlighted, so had left it au naturel. Joan also preferred t-shirts and jeans to fancy dresses and skirts.
Kimberley was always trying to give Joan a ‘make over’, but Joan had avoided it thus far. Thank God. Joan glanced over at Gilebert. She doubted he would be able to resist her friend but…Joan frowned. There was still something she didn’t like about that guy. Joan looked over at Kim. She wanted to tell her friend about her icky feeling, but knew she’d just end up looking jealous or petty. That’s why she decided to keep her mouth shut. Kim was one of the few friends she had left and who put up with Joan’s flaking out all the time.
A waitress arrived to take Joan’s order. Kimberley had already eaten and was enjoying a fancy, flavored coffee drink, which she’d oddly enough opted to get in a paper cup.
Joan quickly looked over the menu before ordering the French toast and a café latte.
Kimberley took a sip of her coffee drink and moaned blissfully. The combination of chocolate and caramel was divine. “So when are you going to start job hunting?”
Joan groaned at the reminder. “Ugh, maybe today. I don’t know.”
Kimberley raised an eyebrow at her friend’s wishy-washiness. “Well, what do you want to do?”
“I want to play tennis.”
“Joan.” Kimberley’s tone chided. “You can’t keep regretting what happened. You have to keep moving forward. When life closes one door it opens another. You just have to pry open the doors of destiny and try something new.” For Joan’s benefit Kimberley demonstrated what opening the door of destiny would look like and threw her arms wide as she did so. “I could always introduce you to some people at my agency?”
Joan raised a skeptical eyebrow at her friend’s offer. “Me? Model? I don’t think so. They’d probably try to make me wear a skirt.” And I really don’t think my boobs are big enough.
“And what would be so bad about that?” Kimberley smiled and her amber eyes twinkled. “I think you’d look cute!”
Joan groaned. “I’m too busy making a statement in this male dominated society. Women shouldn’t have to wear skirts to get a guy’s attention or to land a job. Women should be able to wear whatever they want to. It’s the twenty-first century for Heaven’s sake.”
Kimberley waved her hand through the air. “Yea, yea.” She’d heard Joan’s feminist tirade before, of course. Her gaze returned to Gilebert. “Oh, there’s lull in customers! Finally, I’m going to go and talk to him.”
“Give him your number, you mean.” Joan’s lip twitched.
“Of course. But also I’m going to give him this.” Kimberley showed Joan her paper cup which used to say ‘Caution: the beverage you’re about to consume is HOT’, and which now read: ‘Caution: You’re really HOT. Call me.’ Kimberly had used a Sharpie to cross out some of the words on the cup and had added her phone number.
“Very subtle.” Joan said.
“I know, right?” Kimberley giggled as she headed towards the bar where she began to engage Gilebert in an animated conversation. He looked interested in whatever Kimberley was saying, and he was leaning forward slightly in Kim’s direction. Joan was pretty good at reading a person’s body language and knew that he was already into her friend. Kimberley had a habit of tipping guys she liked her phone number. They always called.
A few minutes later, the waitress returned with Joan’s café latte and French toast. Joan immediately began to dig in. She was suddenly ravenous. Maybe Kimberley was right and she should stop obsessing about the past and embrace the future. And that meant both pasts. She decided she’d just walk around the area and see if there were any part-time positions available. Maybe a small retail store or a restaurant would need someone since the holiday season was fast approaching. Joan wasn’t really sure what she wanted to do in life anymore now that her dream of playing tennis professionally had been taken from her.
The café latte was surprisingly delic
ious even though it was so simple, and the French toast seemed to melt in her mouth. “Mmm.” She could see why this café had gotten popular all of a sudden. She looked over at the barista. He was good. She’d give him that.
Joan finished her breakfast and paid. She looked over at the bar and saw that Kimberley was still flirting shamelessly with the barista. A smile curled her lips. Joan decided she’d just text message her friend so that she wouldn’t interrupt them. She was happy for Kim. ‘Had to jet…good luck with Gilebert. Not that you need it.’ Joan texted Kimberley on her way out of the café.
Joan walked down the sidewalk and fumbled with the buttons on her jacket as she quickly tried to close it. It was freezing out. She rubbed her hands together and breathed on them, realizing she should have brought her gloves. The best places to be during the Fall and then Winter were nice warm pubs. Maybe she should find a pub and try working as a waitress? She mused. That was a possibility…as long as they didn’t make her wear a skirt.
It wasn’t long before Joan spotted an Irish pub with a ‘Help Wanted’ sign stuck to the front window. She entered and asked the bartender about the waitressing position. The bartender looked Joan over and sneered. “Position’s already been filled.”
A muscle below Joan’s eye ticked. She knew the man was lying. As Joan stomped out of the Irish pub she looked at the other waitresses. They were all young, big-boobed women wearing tight, low-cut shirts and short skirts. She didn’t want to work in a place that objectified women anyways. “Hmph!” What is this place…Hooters?
Joan stalked down the street, spotted another pub, and tried it next. She spoke to the manager this time who looked Joan over before saying she had a chance. However, when Joan explained that she wouldn’t wear a skirt she was kicked out of the pub! The nerve of that manager guy!
Joan let out a despairing sigh. She was just about to give up when she turned her head and saw yet another an Irish pub. She had almost walked right past it without noticing it. It was also different from the other pubs with a more dour, somber and almost dreary appearance. It was a tall, rectangular-shaped, brick building that resembled a town house that had been turned into a restaurant. The first floor window was all wood and glass, and the pub had a solid, wooden front door. All of the wood had been painted dark green at one point, but the paint was faded and peeling.
A round, wooden sign swung directly over the front door. The sign read: Dullahan’s Irish Pub. The image on the sign was of a woman riding a black horse. The image was slightly faded and the paint was peeling causing Joan to squint up at the sign to get a closer look. Her eyes widened when she realized that the horsewoman had no head. The headless horsewoman was gripping the reins with her right hand while in her left hand she held a severed head. The head had pale skin, freckles, and a cascade of strawberry blonde hair that was almost pink in color. The severed head’s eyes were closed. Oh my God…she’s a dullahan…a headless horsewoman. Like the headless horsewoman I saw on Halloween! Joan suddenly remembered and realized that’s why this place had felt oddly familiar. That’s right. I saw that spirit riding out of the front window of this pub!
Joan shuddered. What a creepy sign. She spotted a ‘Help Wanted’ sign stuck to the inside of the front window, which read:
HELP WANTED
Part-time waitress
Part-time bartender (male or female)
Please inquire within
for more information.
Thank you!
Joan peered through the dusty window. Wow. It looked pretty dead in there. Is this place even open? She hesitated…but there was something about the place that wouldn’t leave her alone. Joan decided to go inside and give it a shot. She entered the pub and an old-fashioned bell above the door jingled. She looked around the pub curiously noting that it was completely empty except for the bartender and the only waitress in the place. The waitress was sitting on a barstool and leaning over the bar while she made out with the bartender.
The waitress was blocking Joan’s view of the bartender’s face, but she had a good view of a tattoo on the woman’s left upper arm - a Japanese geisha who was sucking on her finger in a suggestive pose. In fact, the waitress was covered in various tattoos. The waitress was slightly overweight, and yet was wearing skintight clothing - a dark green tank top and a jean mini skirt. Her black hair was tied up into a high ponytail. Joan could see her bellybutton piercing.
The bartender was wearing a black vest and matching black pants. Joan figured he had probably forgone the usual white, button-down shirt in order to show off the tribal tattoo that wound around his upper left arm and the intricate swirls that decorated his right arm. The bartender was pretty muscular and looked like he worked out. He had closely cropped black hair that was almost a buzz cut.
The bar was impressive and ran the entire length of the left-hand side of the establishment. To the right several round tables were scattered about the floor space, and there were booths along the right-hand side of the pub against the wall. There was a back room with a pool table and a stage for live music performances. Most of the wood inside of the pub had been painted dark green, grass green and yellow. Though the paint was peeling in a lot of places. The bar itself was a faded mahogany. The flag of Ireland was hanging over the bar and a zillion shamrocks decorated the pub. There were shamrocks on the back of the barstools, shamrocks on the glasses, and shamrocks on the napkin holders. Joan had never seen so many shamrocks before in her entire life.
All sorts of interesting memorabilia hung on the walls and ceilings to give patrons something to look at while they drank - license plates from all over the States (including funny license plates like ‘PLAY TMN’ ‘I AM LATE’ ‘WAS HIS’ ‘BUDWSR’), and flags from different countries. A model pirate ship, a model plane, a preserved puffer fish, and a kite were hanging from the ceiling.
The pub may have been devoid of human patrons, but Joan could see that there were several evil spirits and lesser demons wandering around the pub. A few of these beings were even seated at the tables. She’d never seen so many evil spirits and lesser demons in one place before. She would need her cross in order to transform to be able to exorcise them though. No wonder no one is coming in here…they must feel the heavy, unwelcoming aura that surrounds this place. But…it isn’t normal for so many evil spirits to be all in one place. I wonder why they’re here. Is something attracting them? Joan mused before deciding that regardless of what happened during her job interview here she’d return there later that night, and exorcise the place of the evil spirits and lesser demons with her holy sword.
Joan’s attention returned to the amorous waitress and bartender. She took a deep breath before approaching the couple. “Um, excuse me.”
The couple continued to make out.
Joan coughed loudly. “Uh, hello!”
The couple finally noticed Joan and swiftly pulled apart. The waitress glared at Joan while the bartender offered Joan an apologetic smile. Now that Joan could see his face she saw that he had dark eyes, rugged features, and there was stubble along his jaw line. “Sorry about that, babe.” The bartender’s eyes looked Joan over curiously and a spark of lust came to his dark eyes. “What can I get you?”
“Nothing to drink, thanks.” Joan said and was feeling a little unsettled by the obvious desire in his eyes. Joan shot the waitress a wary look since it was obvious these two were an item. The last thing she wanted was to get in a catfight for a guy she didn’t even want.
“How would you like a French Kiss?” The bartender winked.
So much for not making waves. The bartender was definitely not being subtle. “No thank you.” Joan said through gritted teeth.
The bartender just laughed at the obvious anger on Joan’s face. Joan didn’t get what was so funny until the waitress spoke up. “It’s a cocktail.” The waitress informed Joan with a roll of her eyes. “Duh.”
“Oh, I knew that.” Joan said. I totally didn’t know that. She didn’t like the
club scene very much, and so didn’t know many of the new, popular drinks that had perverted names.
“Although…you can give me a French kiss anytime, baby.” The waitress cooed as she reached out to stroke the bartender’s arm.
The bartender chuckled as he began to prepare the cocktail mixing vodka, raspberry liqueur, Grand Marnier orange liqueur and whipping cream. He shook his shaker tin, and did a few stunts and tricks with the tin that had Joan rolling her eyes before he strained the cocktail into a champagne flute and garnished the drink with a speared cherry.
“I’m here about the help wanted sign I saw in the window.” Joan explained as she picked up the cocktail, and surprised the bartender and the waitress by drinking it back in one go without flinching.
The bartender blinked. “Help wanted sign. You want to work here?” His tone was incredulous and somewhat amused.
“Yes.” Joan nodded firmly.
The bartender’s amusement shifted to wariness, and he shot the waitress a nervous look. She looked equally nervous all of a sudden. The waitress hopped off the barstool and approached Joan with her hands on her hips. “Why would you want to work here? As you can see this place is dead.” Her tone was almost defensive. The waitress pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her impressive cleavage, took out a cigarette, and lit up.
Joan raised an eyebrow at the waitress. “A job’s a job. Isn’t it?” She narrowed her eyes at the couple. They were acting kind of suspicious. They’re hiding something. I wonder what.
“Er, yea, I guess you’re right.” The bartender chuckled and was obviously trying to sound lighthearted. “But don’t say we didn’t warn you. Jenny, the beautiful waitress you see here.” The bartender motioned towards the waitress with a tilt of his head. “The chef, Ivan, and myself are the only people working here right now. We’re the only ones left that the boss can afford to keep employing.” The bartender wiped his hand on a rag before offering it to Joan. “And I’m Franky, by the way.”
Joan took Franky’s hand and shook it firmly. As Franky let go he shook his hand surprised by how firm that handshake had been. His fingers were a little sore. “So can I speak with the manager here?” Joan asked.
“Er…you’ll have to speak to the owner. There is no manager. Hang on a second. ALAN GET YOUR BUTT OUT HERE!” Franky yelled out at the top of his lungs.
Joan’s eyebrow rose even higher. “Alan’s your boss, right?” How can he speak to his boss like that?
“Yes.” Franky deadpanned.
“C-Coming!” Came a nervous sounding voice.
From the back room where the office was located a young man that was probably around the same age as Joan, and in his early twenties, emerged. He was tall with a somewhat lanky physique, and had extremely pale skin. The young man was handsome with a stylish, EMO hairstyle where his golden blonde hair covered half of his face. His one visible eye was sky-blue. He was wearing a slick suit and a trendy fedora on his head.
“Hey boss, we got a girl here interested in the waitressing position.” Franky rumbled. The bartender’s voice was scratchy, probably from smoking one too many cigarettes.
Alan looked at Joan curiously and offered her a warm smile. His blue eyes were filled with hope. “Really? It’s nice to meet you, Miss…?” The young man trailed off expectantly.
“Joan. Joan Simone.” Joan introduced herself.
“Alan Dullahan.” Alan put his hand out for Joan to take.
Joan took it and smiled back. Dullahan, huh? Just like the name of the evil spirit known as the dullahan. That’s pretty interesting.
“Let’s go ahead and have the interview in my office. That way you can tell me a little about yourself and why you wish to work here. Please follow me, Joan.” Alan said as he turned around and began to lead the way.
“Sure-” Joan was saying before she froze. There hanging off of Alan’s back was a small black demon with horns, bat-like wings and a serpentine tail. The demon was three feet tall. It noticed Joan looking at it and grinned menacingly. A lesser demon…I’ll have to exorcise it later. Joan thought to herself.
The fact that the demon was trying to possess Alan meant that he was either an atheist and so had no divine protection against such things, or he had a great emptiness inside of him. Joan followed Alan into his office. It was a small, cramped and extremely messy room. There were towering stacks of paper everywhere. There were bookshelves but apparently Alan had more books than could fit in the shelves since there were even books piled on the floor. Apparently, Alan liked to read.
Alan took a seat behind the desk and tried to look professional. Even though he looked confident Joan was able to sense how nervous he was. It was cute. He straightened a stack of paper causing a cloud of dust to fly up into the air. Alan tried very hard not to but he ended up sneezing and blowing most of the papers off of desk. A pink tinge came to his cheeks and he tried to ignore what had just happened. “Please take a seat and make yourself comfortable, Joan.”
Joan took a seat in the dusty armchair that was sitting in front of Alan’s desk. Alan looked at Joan and cleared his throat. “Er…so um, do you have any waitressing experience?”
Joan gave Alan a pointed look. “Aren’t you supposed to ask me for my resume first?”
Alan scratched the back of his neck in a sheepish gesture. “Yea, you’re probably right. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. You see, this is my brother’s pub. Or rather it was my brother’s pub. He inherited it from our parents, but he passed away recently. I inherited this place from him.” A cloud of sadness passed over Alan’s features.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Joan said even as relief filled her. That explains the demon. They prey on the emptiness in human hearts…such as great sadness. At least he’s probably not an atheist.
Alan tried to offer Joan a smile but it came out rather forced. “Thank you. I miss my brother but I miss my father even more. He was a great man. I bet my father is watching me from Heaven and is extremely disappointed in me though. Unlike my brother, I’ve managed to run the family business into the ground in just a few short months. I’m already in debt and I don’t really know what else to do. I’m desperate and I need the help so…that’s why I’m not being too picky about seeing a resume. It’s getting harder and harder to find people who want to work here for some reason too. People have told me that my pub is…creepy.” Alan put his head in his hands, looking helpless all of a sudden.
Joan reached out and put a hand on Alan’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Alan, it’s not your fault. I’m sure things will turn around. You’ll see. And if you let me I’d like to try and help.”
Alan looked up and gave Joan a hopeful look. “Really? That would be great.”
Joan was nodding before she remembered something. “There’s just one thing.”
Alan expression of happiness faltered and he looked at Joan expectantly. “What is it?”
“Do I have to wear a skirt?”
Wicked Bartender PG-13 Version Page 2