by Tiana Laveen
“This isn’t just about Hell Night, Cruz. It was a strategy for going forward.”
“I understand that, but as you’ve so nicely reminded me, I am not like you. Therefore, I have a better understanding of what we’re dealing with. I didn’t have the time to educate anyone on this. As you know, we are pressed for time so I decided to just take care of it myself. You could take on Demon Children just fine with a few pointers here and there, you’ve proven that, but this is an entirely different ball of wax. That’s why Saint entrusted me to figure out our options, and then I presented this to him. I hope you accept my apology. I wasn’t trying to be condescending.” He sighed. “We’re all tired and stressed out. It wasn’t my intention to upset you, but I see now that I should have discussed this with you sooner. It was a lapse in judgement. I’m serious. I’m sorry.”
Jagger looked at him for a spell, then nodded. “Apology accepted…I also apologize for flyin’ off the handle. I shouldn’t have said some of that stuff to you just now. I didn’t mean it, I’m just upset.”
“I need all of you to go home and get some rest. Return tonight with weapons because we know the Demon Children are going to treat tomorrow’s Hell Night like some scavenger hunt. Krishna showed me the army telepathically before he crossed over, and it looks like they get orders later today from the demon that Cruz made a deal with. That’s what I was going to explain to you, too. Cruz isn’t in charge, Jagger—something else is.”
“All right, and what do you need from us? I want specifics on the assignments. I will be ready.” Jagger got to his feet and exposed the arsenal on his body—artillery, blades, bullets, even a couple grenades.
“Jagger, I am appointing you in charge of directing all of the Angel Children who will be out fighting and running interventions during Hell Night. We know that the demons, based on Krishna’s prediction, are coming to commit demonic influence during their night of mischief. I’ve alerted the other King Angel Children and they are preparing as well. Even though Hell Night is typically exclusive to New York, this time it may spread, so everyone is on high alert. When I tell you to go out into the street and start, be ready.”
“Got it.”
Lawrence returned to the room and took his seat.
“The demon issued by Cruz is in charge of all the spirits. We will not touch that. It was Cruz’s job to summon them; now, the demon takes over. He will know what to do and how to do it. Jagger, perhaps you three may even work together. I have no idea, but I’m certain whatever needs to be done, the Sovereign demon will make it clear. There is a prize in this for him. That’s what will hopefully keep him in line, and since we aren’t civilians, according to Cruz he is less likely to go against the agreement. From my understanding, he has wanted this for centuries, so that only sweetens the pot.”
“It’s just one demon? I’m not trying to override any final decisions, Saint, but we said we would need two, to cause a distraction. How will just one demon help us?” Jagger shrugged. “We’ve already proven we can take on a demon, especially if we all work together.”
“Jagger.” Cruz smiled as he approached him and placed his hand on his shoulder. “This time, it’s not quantity that matters, it’s quality. This demon is like none that you’ve seen thus far. I’ve got the Duke…the Duke of War…”
I spilled my blood on the Satanic Temple today. It was like a dog pissing on the sidewalk. I marked it, soiled it, relieving myself of a small fraction of my hatred, though the surplus is ever-growing. I bled upon the place by cutting my arm and then desecrated their sacred building with my red essence of life. Life… God… death… love… hate. It’s funny, actually. I don’t follow a set religion; most know that. My father is deeply religious, and some of the most broken people in the world cling to their religion, while stepping over those in need and refusing to face the reality of their actions and thoughts. Religion is manmade; thus, it’s flawed.
I respect others as long as they are not hurting anyone, wishing harm to the innocent, but unfortunately, there are people in all religions who wish death upon others, just because their beliefs differ. They tell you you’re going to Hell if you don’t think as they think… then claim God said this, not them. Some use violence, some use hate speech but then tell us, ‘God is love.’ One of the greatest men to ever enter my life was an Indian man who lived all the way on the other side of the world. The moment I saw my mentor was dead, felt his last heartbeat and sensed his last breath fill my lungs, I knew that sweet revenge had to be mine.
And I’d have it, making certain that all who share Demon Child blood would bleed from every orifice. I won’t rest until I have crushed their bones beneath my fists and heard their wails and cries for mercy that I’ll never grant. How can I say I’m religious when I hate so deeply? I am a spiritual being, a defective angry man following my birthright, giving in to the animal I am—the monster within. Koki told me that I’m a Satanist at heart because of this, only I’m not aware of it. No, I believe we’re all animals, that much is true, but within us lives a spiritual and psychic power that is not of this Earth, and Satan didn’t give it to us. He hates that he can’t take it away for it’s a gift from the Great Creator.
The problem is, we have a longer leash on us than many believe. God is not up there looking down on us and trying to fix all of our bullshit. He’s not keeping a tally sheet of what commandment we’ve broken today. It’s our energy, our intentions, our hearts and the way we treat others that are duly noted. It’s so much more than what rules have been broken and who did not pray enough during the twenty-four-hour period. That’s not the Creator I serve, and since He made me, I have a vested interest in what He wants from me.
He allows us to wander about, live our lives, suffer our consequences… not because He doesn’t care, but because we are mere extensions of Him, and He is not the dictator western religion has portrayed. He has no addiction to control and power; if He did, he’d stop our hearts at the very first sign of disobedience, just as all weak human beings in positions of power do. They may not physically snuff us out, but suddenly, there might be a prison sentence issued from a prideful judge who knows the defendant is innocent but wouldn’t allow important evidence, deeming it inadmissible because he’s up for re-election in his state—and the state wants someone to hang.
Or a job loss might render us incapable of taking care of ourselves, or we must submit to a petty boss who is exposed as being inept, and so it goes…
God is not like us. He doesn’t need the glorification we desire to feel taller than others, better than our neighbors, holier than our constituents. The Creator and I are closer than ever. He has taken me from a mighty long way, as my mother-in-law says. I should have been dead years ago. But He kept me around, because He had faith that I could do better. And He was right. I can’t deny this, especially when I look at my children and see parts of me…
I can’t say it’s not true when I stand amongst broken people who are out there searching for love, needing someone to help guide them in the right direction. I’m a man who struggles with the thin line between Good and Evil, perhaps because at certain times in my life, I’ve been both…
Saint turned the wheel of his money-green Porsche, then pulled up into a desolate area of Hunts Point. The place was typically riddled with heroin-addicted prostitutes and the scrap-metal-collecting homeless, but this little spot was more industrial, drawing less traffic and attention. The scent of the light rain mist permeated the car, and the radio was on low, playing ‘Girl Tonight’ by Twista, featuring Trey Songz.
Xenia stirred in the passenger’s seat, coming to from her nap. With a big stretch and yawn, she looked about with sleepy eyes.
“Mmmm,” she moaned, running her fingers through her hair. “Where are we?”
“Me and Bomb’s old stompin’ ground … the South Bronx.” The seat creaked, the leather sighing beneath his weight as he shifted his body to face her. “As hopeless as it seems in some areas over here, it’s still home. I fe
el at peace here, even in the middle of chaos. Now I will answer your question, the one you asked when I took you from home. I’ll let you know what’s up.” Lucidity had returned to her eyes. “Xenia, I had you leave the house with me tonight and asked Pam to watch the kids so we could spend a little time together.”
“Spend a little time together? It’s one in the morning, Saint. Now, yeah, I came because I’m worried about you and didn’t want you out here alone.” She smiled sleepily at him as she rubbed a kink from the side of her neck. “I figured you just wanted some fresh air and needed me to come along. I see it’s more than that.”
“Yeah.” He shook his head. “Sometimes I just need to come home, over here to the Bronx.”
His gaze traveled across the street where he took note of a tall, dark-complexioned man pushing a cart filled with various odds and ends, bits of trash and whatnots. He wore a dirty, oversized sweater with some faded lettering on it. Saint couldn’t quite make out what it said, but beneath it was a crude illustration of the continent of Africa. Saint slipped a hundred-dollar bill out of his wallet, then rolled his window down.
“Hey, man! Come ’ere and get this Christmas gift.” The man looked up at him, a bit startled, then made a jerky trek in his direction. When he reached the car, the guy took the money from Saint’s hand and looked it over, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.
“This is a hundred … you know that, right?” the man asked, exposing several missing teeth.
“Yeah, man. I know it. Go somewhere and get out of this cold weather. There’s a $70 motel two blocks away. It’s not the nicest, but it’s clean and there’s heat. Use the rest to get some toiletries and something to eat.”
“God bless you, man… God bless you.” The man scurried back over to his cart and made his way down the street. Saint and Xenia sat in silence for a while.
“I miss being over here, when all the oddities are out … my people. I need to smell the funky air.” Saint lounged back in his seat. “To be here late at night, feel the energy and allow myself to be fed. I come from humble beginnings, and I’m grateful, Xenia. You and the Bronx keep me grounded. I can never get too full of myself when I come over here and see where I was hatched. I like to take a look at the places I used to go, and remember the things I used to do, especially in times like this, when I’m so angry … so stressed out … volatile. I brought you with me because…” He slowly turned back towards her as someone who appeared to be doped up rounded a corner, disappearing out of view. “I brought you here because I love you so damn much, and you and this place make me feel safe, like I belong.”
Her lips curled in a soft smile.
“I need to feel you … alone … away from the house. I just craved this time with you, and I need it … the energy, your energy… I want to consume you. I want to take you down…”
Leaning towards her, he cupped her chin and kissed her. She didn’t protest, didn’t complain, saying they were in public in a place filled with the derelicts and the forgotten of society. She looked into his eyes, and returned his kiss, keeping still. He relished in the touch of skin against skin, their slow, steady breathing, and the sound of the occasional car driving past on the wet street.
Pressing the back of her head against the window, she unbuttoned her pajama shirt, one button at a time. The white cotton fell open revealing her glistening breasts for his viewing pleasure. He could smell the essential oils she often rubbed on them. This time, she smelled of lavender. He didn’t waste time burying his face in her cleavage, licking and kissing the flesh between her supple tits.
“I want to be close to you, baby … so close, Xenia, that you feel lonely because I’m so deep inside of you that it seems I’ve disappeared…”
Her fingers played in his hair as he travelled to her left breast and engulfed the taut nipple into his mouth. Cupping the right one, he softly kneaded it. The gear shift dug into his leg as he moved, filled with unstoppable lust and incurable need. A soft sigh escaped her mouth when he ushered her to the back of the car, positioning her just so over his soft leather jacket. Desire and possessiveness consumed him.
“Look what I’ve got, and she’s all mine.” He winked at her before taking her breast into his mouth once again.
Xenia’s body writhed rhythmically against his as he grinded against her, flowing to the beat of ‘Sex With Me’ by Rihanna. Never letting go of her nipple, he worked his pants and underwear down to his ankles then did the same with her pajama bottoms, exposing her nature. He shifted his attention to the right nipple and sucked it slow and soft, then hard, making the woman buck and moan beneath him. She was getting closer to her orgasm. Winding his pelvis in paced, counterclockwise rotations against her bare flesh, he tantalized his personal temptress. Finally, he let her nipple slip from his oral grasp and climbed further up her body until their mouths were perfectly aligned.
“Open.”
Xenia parted her lips, looking dreamily into his eyes. Purple, blue, and red smoke eddied from his mouth and flowed into hers. Suddenly, her back arched and her eyes grew wide as he went back down on her, leaving her with his hazy love flowing inside her. He deposited a trail of wet kisses as he glided down. Hooking his hands around her waist, he wiggled his tongue between her plush pussy lips and slipped a finger inside her, opening her garden so he could administer precise flicks of his tongue.
“You need my energy tonight… you’re preparing to fight, Saint. If anything happens to you, I’ll kill you.”
Her words made him chuckle, drown in her love and suck her all the harder. Pressing his palms into her ass, he brought her impossibly closer to his mouth and fell in love with her scent, her moistness, as he took her in the back of his car. Every now and again the light of some vehicle passing by would make her pause … but she had to know he didn’t care. He wanted her, right then, right there, and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
She moaned loudly. The sound glided sensuously against his ears and grabbed hold of his dick, turning him on. Placing his hands at the base of her stomach, he felt her muscles flex, relax, then tighten once again as her orgasm burst, bringing him delicious libations to bathe his tongue with. Looking up at her, he slid another finger within her soaking wetlands…
In and out… in and out he went, rotating his fingers, eliciting the sweetest of groans. He rose onto his knees and watched her expressions as he worked her clit with soft strums. Her petal swelled when she came once again, this time emitting a grateful whimper. Her entire body shook against his touch. Giving her a minute, he sat back on his knees and wrapped his hand around his throbbing shaft. He stroked it gently, jerking off as he studied her body, then paused when she got on her knees and went down on him. Looking into his eyes, Xenia wrapped her hands around his dick and got to work. A delicious, moist heat tingled the delicate skin of his cock.
“Your hot mouth feels so fuckin’ good on my dick, baby.”
She stared flirtatiously into his eyes and with a smile on her face, flicked her tongue on the smooth underside. Running his hands through her hair, he sighed and pumped the wet head into her mouth, falling under her spell.
“Best dome in town … shit,” he stated between gritted teeth. On the verge of spilling his load, he tenderly pulled away from her oral embrace. “Let me get a ride.”
Reaching around the front seat, he lowered it back as far as it would go. “Back To Sleep” by Chris Brown now played through the speakers. He crawled forward, and Xenia followed suit. With one hand on her waist, and the other gripping his dick, he helped lower her down onto his awaiting shaft. They gasped at the same time when her ass went flush against his groin, engulfing him to the hilt. Her eyes watering, she began to pump and rotate her hips, her ass bouncing slow and steady.
“Fuckin’ this big ass dick! Damn!”
Tossing her hair to one side and tucking it behind her ear, she leaned forward, pushing her soft breasts against his chest, and crushed his mouth in an urgent kiss.
The ligh
ts of another car shone upon them, but they kept going. He drove himself in and out of her, his thrusts urgent and determined, causing her to whimper in agony and pleasure and call out his name.
“It feels so good!” Xenia rested her chin against his shoulder blade and held onto his neck, her ass bucking wildly against his lap. The slickness of her pussy coated his propelling dick, slippery and lovely, and his heart pounded as he neared his climax. “You were made to be inside me, Saint … dick so fuckin’ good!”
She came hard upon him, shaking in his grip, and he kissed her roughly, pouring all of his emotions in that kiss, leaving her breathless. He pumped harder than ever, chasing her orgasm with his own. Needing her so badly, he hissed and gripped her ass so tight, it would surely leave bruises. His thrusts were full of hurt and heat.
“Fuck! Baby, you’re killin’ my pussy! Oh my God!”
“The things you do with your hips! Damn! You ready for my cum, baby?! Fill that pussy up with all this high fructose porn syrup, baby!”
“Yes, give it to me!”
“You’re my favorite fantasy, baby … make a sex addict’s dream cum true! I love fuckin’ you, need to fuck you every chance I get. Xenia, shit!” The harsh, angry world around him turned to the softest hues of love. For just an instant, the hate in his heart gave way to the asylum she offered from her sweet pussy. Her walls throbbed around his nature, hugging him close, and his dick licked and kissed her deep within, leaving his creamy essence inside her love. Erratic breathing, racing heart and all, he smiled…