comfortable position.
“Mine.”
Apparently, the kid agreed, but we’d have to make do.
When I had awoke this morning, the kid lay curled on the bed next to
me, and the angel had been nowhere in sight. When he failed to return after
an hour, I hoisted the kid into the babypack and headed out the door.
So here we were. The scene of the crime. I crept down the hallway,
keeping my nine-millimeter at my side. My mind scrambled to come up with
a better plan. One that didn’t involve dying. Nothing came to mind, so I went
with plan A.
I kicked the door of apartment 405. Mary’s apartment. The door flew
open, of course following Newton’s Third Law, it bounced off the wall and
slammed closed. But not before it smacked me in the nose, and knocked me
to the floor.
Fuck.
Careful not to squish the kid, I rolled around until the pain faded to a
dull throb.
“Mine?” The kid stabbed me in the eye.
I wiped away the blood from my nose, and plucked the kid’s finger
from my eye socket. “Mine is okay.” Stumbling to my feet, I readied my
weapon and my boot for another kick. This time I forced the door open, and
shoved my foot inside before it banged closed.
Score one for me. Okay, maybe half a point.
I entered the apartment, scanning it for signs of life. Not that I
expected any. Mary wasn’t dumb enough to stick around after what she’d
done.
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The room was empty. No pink furniture or knickknacks. No smoking
gun or matchbook with a hotel’s name. No giant map with X marking the
spot. Nothing. I sniffed the air. Well, maybe one thing. Dead fish.
I searched the rest of the rooms, finding a half-eaten peanut butter
sandwich, and a pair of my boxer shorts tossed into a corner.
The kid started to fuss when I walked into the bathroom, his chubby
legs kicking, just missing my little jaces.
“Watch it,” I said, shifting him higher in the babypack.
“Mine. Mine.” He pointed to the tub and the ring of fish guts circling
it.
Damn it. Fish. Another miracle I should’ve picked up on. “Sorry, kid.
Next time I’ll get it.”
He shot me a toothy grin, and settled back down in the kid cozy. I
shifted through the vacant bathroom drawers, searched the medicine cabinet,
and underneath the sink, finding a compact packet of birth control pills, two
left, a dull razor, and an empty test tube labeled DNA. Yew. I dropped the
vial, and wiped my hands on my jeans.
Further into the depths of the medicine cabinet, I discovered a stick
of Clary sage incense. I smelled the incense, and a suddenly, overwhelming
lust swept through me. Shit. She’d drugged me with sage yesterday. That
bitch. I felt violated. Sickened. Okay, maybe not, but it did piss me off.
Would I have fucked her without the incense? Probably. So why drug
me? And more importantly, what did she gain from fucking me in the first
place? I wasn’t Brad Pitt, or Johnny Holmes by any stretch of the
imagination. So why? A distraction? To keep me under her spell?
A noise in the hallway drew my attention. I raised my gun, and
waited. And waited. Nothing happened. Shit. I lowered the gun and crept into
the hall.
Sid leaned against the wall, picking at something in his teeth. “Bones
of the buried surface at first light.”
“Okay.”
He pulled a white toothpick from his mouth. “They also make good
toothpicks.”
I grinned and pointed to Mary’s apartment. “Have you seen her
around today?”
“Today is a drop of moonlight on a rose, fading fast and drying
before my weary eyes.”
“So that’s a no?” The kid shifted in the pouch, kicking his feet
against my thighs. I stroked his nearly bald head, and he calmed down.
“Deep in the core, we find our desire.” Sid wiggled his eyebrows,
emphasizing the word core and desire.
I scratched my head. “Are you hitting on me?”
He rolled his eyes. “I saw the blonde girl at the Core, you idiot. Why
do I even bother? You’re as dumb as a rock.”
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“Why didn’t you just say so?” I pushed past him, jogged down the
steps, and into the smog-filtered daylight. I smiled at the kid, who quietly
sucked his thumb. “I really hate that guy.”
He popped his thumb from his mouth. “Mine.”
“Glad we’re in agreement.” I tucked the kid deeper into the
babypack, and headed off to challenge Satan’s son while wearing God’s only
son as a fashion statement.
How could I lose?
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Forty Two
The Core looked bleak in the daylight without the bright neon signs,
and fancy dressed people waiting outside. The outer red paint peeled from
the building, and rats raced across the sidewalk.
I examined the deserted street and the slightly opened doorway. It all
but screamed trap. Then again, who’d be stupid enough to break into a pit of
hell in broad daylight? Sadly, the answer was me.
I raised my eyes to Heaven. “A little help would be appreciated.”
What I really wanted was a babysitter, but I’d make do with an angel, even
the moronic one. Taking the kid into the Core didn’t seem like the smartest
of ideas. But at the moment, it was the only one I had. Mary was inside, and I
had to stop her.
“Here’s the deal.” I twisted the babypack onto my back. “We’re
gonna sneak inside, and you need to be very quiet. If anyone touches you,
you smite them and forget the resurrection part.”
“Mine.”
“Okay, let’s do it.” Taking a deep breath, I pulled my gun and
slipped through the doorway banging the kid’s head on the frame. “Sorry,” I
whispered. He whimpered, but didn’t cry.
I counted off my steps; much like I had the night Lilith and I met. An
evil blackness crushed the daylight outside, sending me closer into hell.
“I do not like the darkness,” a voice on my right hissed. I twisted in
that direction and fired. The nine-millimeter recoiled in my hand, shock
waves jumped along my already frazzled nerves.
Thud.
Something heavy hit the floor, and a smattering of feathers flew into
the air.
The kid shook his large head. “Mine.”
Shit. I grabbed a lighter from my pocket and flicked it. A bluish
flame shot from the top illuminating a fallen angel. His white blond hair was
covered in greenish blood. I rushed to his side and dragged him to his feet.
“Are you okay?”
He blinked a few times. “You request my presence and then you
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shoot me? That’s just cruel.”
I gave him my standard eye roll. “It was an accident. And where the
fuck have you been?”
“I had a doctor’s appointment, if you must know.” The hole in his
head healed before my eyes returning his face to an angelic glow.
“No you didn’t.” I squinted, examining his shapely eyebrows. “You
had your eyebrows waxed. Me and the kid could have died while you—”
“Overgrown
eyebrows are the Devil’s playground.” He smiled,
looking plastic, serene, and superior.
I punched him in his freshly polished face. The punch failed to
register. His face remained blank. I hit him again. Still nothing. “Son-of-a-
bitch. You got Botox too,” I said, incredulously.
“It was a two for one sale.” His lips pulled tight into a smirk, or I
think it was a smirk. It was hard to tell.
“Are you boys done with your lover’s quarrel?” Samuel crawled
from behind the glass bar. A trail of red lights flickering behind him, giving
him the devilish glow rarely seen outside the movie theater. “Wanna tell me
what the fuck you’re doing here?”
I spun to face him, pointing the nine-millimeter at his chest. He
looked the same as he had days ago, like a rejected underwear model after a
drug-fueled binge. His forked tongue flicked out, and a tonic cloud of funky
demon breath filled the space between us.
I unstrapped the kid, and passed him to the angel. “Go,” I said,
shoving them both toward the door.
“I do not think—” The angel backed up a step.
“I know.” I shook my head, but kept my eyes and gun focused on
Samuel. “But for once, don’t let it be an issue and do what I say.”
The angel’s lips tightened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he wrapped
the kid in his feathery arms, and disappeared through the exit door, a trail of
olive colored blood following him.
Waving my gun at Samuel, I asked, “Where is she?”
He raised an eyebrow. A pointed, perfectly shaped, and most likely
waxed brow. “Who?”
“Don’t fuck with me. I am not in the mood.” I fired a round into his
big toe. “Where is the little whore?”
When the bullet struck his foot, Samuel yelped. He hopped around
for a few seconds until the wound healed itself, and then he turned his red,
hate-filled eyes on me.
Just for fun, I shot him again.
“Stop that,” he said, doing another bullet dance.
I waited with one bullet left for him to finish jumping around. When
he stopped dancing, he let out an annoying screech, calling up his entourage
of hell beasts and teenagers.
They seeped from every surface, big, dumb demon thugs wearing
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gold chains and velour sweat suits. Some fingered automatic weapons while
others carried steel pipes and pentagrams.
But I wasn’t afraid. I shook my head, pocketed my gun, and pulled a
silvery ball from my pocket. The demon gang frozen like a finely organized
army of garden gnomes. I grinned, running a finger across the smooth
surface of my new toy. A toy I’d found stuffed inside the glove box of
Lilith’s Gremlin, oddly enough, in a bag labeled, 'Lilith’s Bag of Tricks'.
“Is that a…” the nearest demon gulped, “God’s Ball?”
“Yep.” I stared into the terrified faces of evil and smirked. “And I
know how to use it.”
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Forty Three
Actually, I didn’t have a clue how to use a God’s Ball. The directions
on the package read: ‘Piety Guaranteed with Just One Dose’. I held the ball
up, letting the red lights of the club flicker across it.
Samuel gnashed his pointed teeth. “I swear I will kick your mortal,
white a—”
“Uh-huh.” I tapped the ball. The ping of my nail against the metal
echoed in the now silent room. “But before that, why don’t you tell me where
Mary is?”
“Mary, Mary, Mary. What happened to Lilith?” Samuel shot me a
shiny plastic grin. “She claimed you’d be her salvation. I guess she was
wrong.”
Guilt twisted inside me. My grip tightened on the God’s Ball. “What
do you know about her murder?” Had he helped Mary destroy Lilith? Was he
there watching in the shadows as she bled to death? I stepped closer to him,
rage overriding my common sense. His row of demon support moved back.
Gotta love God’s Balls.
Samuel’s lip curled in disgust. “I know that Lilith begged for her life.
Begged.”
“You’re lying.”
He laughed, and my thin thread of control snapped. The God’s Ball
in my hand forgotten, I jumped him and slammed my fist into his jaw again
and again. For a second, I felt satisfied, invincible.
Then his entourage pulled me off, my knuckles scrapped and
bloodied from Samuel’s busted teeth. He stood and snatched the God’s Ball
out of my hand. His eyes never left my face as he gave the order to his
demon mafia: “Kill him, and this time, make sure he stays dead.” He spit a
fleshy piece of tongue from his mouth and grinned.
“Bad idea, Sam.” I struggled with the two thug demons who held my
arms, as I waited for an opening to go for my nine-millimeter. It came soon
enough in an explosion of harp music.
Samuel and his demon patrol glanced up. I reacted, elbowing the
nearest thug. He doubled over, and I ripped the gun from my waistband. As
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suddenly as it had begun, the music vanished, and I was left pointing a nearly
empty gun at Satan’s son.
“What? You think one bullet is going to stop all of us?” Blood
spewing from Samuel’s healing lips as he laughed.
I nodded and fired.
Boom. The bullet nicked the edge of the God’s Ball, sending it
crashing to the floor and the demons running for cover.
The ball sat on the concrete. Just sat there. Fuck.
The demon closest to me rammed his fist into my spine, and I
dropped onto my stomach, choking back bile. Carefully, Samuel stepped
over the God’s Ball. He grabbed a fist full of my hair and lifted my head to
meet his eyes.
“Mysterious ways, huh?” His foot caught my jaw. My head snapped
backwards, crackling as my vertebrae shifted along my spine. “Lilith chose
poorly,” he added. “And she paid for her mistake. Too bad you won’t get the
chance to make things right.”
“Don’t be so sure,” I whispered through my broken jaw before sweep
kicking Samuel’s legs. My foot tangled between his calves. He stumbled
backward and tripped over his feet, landing hard on top the God’s Ball.
A buzz and the sound of a cracking filled the air.
A blue light, so intense it singed my eyelashes, burst from
underneath Samuel’s ass. Quickly, I threw my arm up to protect my face
against the powerful and unexpected rays. Demons cried out, their feet
thundering in all directions.
A sudden feeling of euphoria arced over me. My eyes opened wide.
Frightened by the happy feeling, I swallowed hard, willing happiness to a
dark place inside me. I needed my anger and grief. It kept me focused. It kept
Lilith alive.
The God’s Ball’s light winked out, and I peeked from under my
newly tanned arm to survey the damage. Two demons lay on the concrete
floor, curled in the fetal position, whispering prayers. A couple of others
shambled around the room in a daze, ramming into furniture and apologizing
profusely. But it was Samuel, sitting stunned on top the shattered God’s Ball
that shocked me the most. Tears streamed down his r
eddened cheeks as he
hugged his knees and rocked back and forth like a child.
I stumbled to my feet, and took a few steps toward him. My hand
slipped into my jeans pocket and produced the six-inch knife I’d stolen from
Lilith’s kitchen. I raised the blade, ready to plunge it through Samuel’s
horned head.
Thou Shalt Not Kill.
My arm froze above my head. The knife heated, burning my fingers.
Smoke poured off my melting flesh until I dropped the knife. It clattered
harmlessly to the concrete floor.
Mother Mary and Joseph. Jumping Jehovah. What the heck had come
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over me? The urge to reach down and comfort Samuel flooded through me. I
slapped myself instead.
“My father never cared about me, not in the way a father should.”
Samuel wiped at his leaking nose with the edge of his sleeve. “I wanted to do
right, be a good son….”
“Shut u—” The p caught in my throat. Piety sucked. “Where’s
Mary?”
Samuel curled into a ball. “Your father who art in heaven….”
“Come on, man. Where the fudge is Mary?”
“Thy kingdom come, Her ruling be done...” On and on Samuel went.
Jiminy Cricket. I rolled my eyes at the big, bad son of the devil.
“Peace be with you.”
Shoot, I hadn’t meant to say that. I had to get out of here before I
started forgiving and living righteously. A fate worse than heckfire.
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Forty Four
I staggered from the Core and into the grayish daylight. The angel
and the kid stood across the street. The angel gave a you-hoo wave, and I
skipped across four lanes of traffic.
An SUV screamed to a stop, brakes smoking as I pranced past.
“Asshole,” the driver barked.
I shrugged, gave him a vague smile instead of the finger, and raced
onto the sidewalk where the angel waited.
“You’re alive.” The angel examined me, putting a finger to my
busted jaw. It healed under his touch. “We were worried.”
The kid popped his head from the babypack. “Mine.”
I smiled at him and then at the angel. Love filled me, easing the
coldness surrounding my heart. Tender feelings of concern for—I smacked
myself in the eye. The after effects of the God’s Ball were stronger than I’d
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