We make our way to the car—a new Bentley that I have no business driving in this neighborhood or in this weather. And I’m made even more aware of my pretentious choice in vehicle when we catch a glimpse of a scuffle happening only yards away in a nearby alley. Five guys, early to mid twenties, and by the look of them, a penchant for heroin. There’s a girl trapped between them, struggling to break free of their hold while four of them roughly grope her and the remaining useless scab rummages through her purse. His face is ravaged with pockmarks and his black, greasy hair looks painted on.
“This all you got?” he barks, emptying the contents of her bag into the snow.
“I told you, asshole. I’m going to get the money. I just need a little time,” she shoots back.
“Bullshit.” The feckless prick drops the purse only to snatch up a scrap of paper. Then in the next breath, before she can even brace herself, he slaps her across the face. “You’re trying to run,” he seethes, baring yellow, crooked teeth. He holds up the rumbled paper. “This is a bus ticket to Vegas. You really think you can run from us, bitch?”
The girl doesn’t even shed a tear. Even with her lip split and bleeding and her cheek reddening with a quickly forming welt, she holds her head high. “Why the hell do you think I’m going to Vegas? I’m getting the money like I said I would. You can even ask Butch. And since I can’t do that unless you let me go, you should leave me the fuck alone so I can go catch my bus. I’m already late.”
“Butch may fall for that bullshit, but I know better. You think I believe you’ll come back and pay? How stupid do you think I am?” The greasy haired dipshit rips the bus ticket into little pieces and lets the scraps flutter down to his feet like falling snow.
The girl cracks a dark smile before spitting blood at his cheap fake leather loafers. She’s got guts. “Pretty fucking stupid. I spent my last dime on that ticket and it was my only way to get west to make some real cash. Now you’ll have to explain to Butch why his money will be even later.”
“Nah.” The grotesque fucker runs his serpent-like tongue over his stained teeth. “Maybe instead of skipping town, you can make the money right here, right now.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You’ve been working at Butch’s strip joint for a few months now.”
The girl rolls her eyes. “Yeah, but you know cleaning up after his girls and serving as their personal glitter bitch doesn’t pay much.”
“Well, maybe we need to update the description of your duties. We’ll just call this your audition.” The ugly fucker fondles his belt buckle while his eyes darken with the promise of depravity. I nearly gag on the young woman’s behalf.
Eyes wide with terror, she struggles to get free but those grimy thugs only grab on tighter, presumably motivated by the chance that they, too, may get a turn. “No. Please, don’t do this. I’ll get the money. Just please…”
Her horrified gaze finds us across the snow-covered parking lot, and I swear, a little glimmer of hope inflates her chest. However, a second after she spots Michael and me, her soon-to-be rapists do too.
“Hey, you got a problem? What the fuck you lookin’ at?” The punk bitch with the fucked up skin reaches for his back, sending us a threat.
I want to laugh until big, salty tears run down my cheeks. Oh, how that would piss him off. Maybe even enough to make him brandish his weapon and aim it towards me. I can almost taste the thrill of blood against freshly fallen white snow, and can almost scent it in the air. I’ve earned a little fun, haven’t I?
But, alas, no. Instead, I shake my head, denying myself the chance to revel in the simple delight of violence. Pity. Month after month of going through the motions, and I can’t even get my sadistic rocks off, for fear we’d draw too much attention to ourselves. So as much as I’ve missed the carnage, I’ve abstained.
“No, no. No problem at all,” I reply, raising my palms in mock defense. I look over at Michael who seems perplexed, and nod towards the car, silently signaling for him to get in. “We didn’t see anything.”
“You damn right, you didn’t see anything. Now get the fuck out of here, fuckin’ fairies.” The oily fuck really believes he’s menacing. Like, sincerely. He truly thinks he has intimidated us enough to make us flee. I have to bite the inside of my cheeks to keep from cackling like a wild hyena.
We make it to the car and I waste no time starting up the engine, already growing bored with this shit show. But before I can hit the gas and glimpse this dump in my rearview, Michael places his hand on the steering wheel.
“Aren’t we going to help her?”
I roll my eyes and catch the scene from my peripheral. These assholes are bold, I’ll give them that. Two of them hold her arms while the others rip at her clothing. And that hideous cum stain already has his tiny pencil dick in his palm. She thrashes and fights the entire time, and even lands a few hard kicks, but with five against one, there’s no contest. She’ll have a mouthful of cock before we even make it out of the parking lot. Hopefully she bites that shit clean off.
“Not our problem,” I deadpan.
“Lucie…” Michael begins, his tone admonishing. “You know what they’ll do to her. We can’t just leave without stopping them.”
Of course, I know what they’ll do. Rape, torture, murder. I practically wrote the handbook. But I also know that in order to fly under the paranormal radar, we can’t risk being recognized or implicated. Hence, why we’re slumming it in Buttfuck, West Virginia.
“Come on, Luc. You have to miss it. If you won’t do it in the name of decency and morality, do it for the carnage. For the feel of grasping a still beating heart in your palm. For the slick sensation of warm blood sliding over your skin. For that look of true and terrible fear, of sheer horror reflected in their cloudy eyes just before you rip their heads from their shoulders. You know you want to. We’ll be so quick, no one will know we were even here.”
Well, shit. Those are some damn good points, I must admit. As the Devil, my main duty was to castigate the guilty. To make those stained with the blood of innocents pay for their sins. And I loved my job. I wasn’t just good at it, I thrived in it. I relished dealing out cruel and unusual punishments in the name of justice and the pleasure of watching the malevolent writhe in turmoil. It takes a creative, inspired mind to keep things interesting after a few millennia stuck in a dark pit of iniquity, and I took every case, every corrupt soul, as a personal challenge.
There was nothing I had ever aspired to do other than rule Hell with a fiery fist. Until a Seraphim hybrid baby girl was ripped from her human mother’s womb and forced into this sick, cruel world and into my life. In many ways, I had no other choice but to fall for Eden. She isn’t just Legion’s weakness. She is mine. She is the embodiment of my black, bleeding heart, walking this Earth, beating for someone else.
I glance over at my brother and shake my head. He’s right. I can’t continue on like this for another seven months. Hell, I can’t go on for another seven days. If I don’t take the edge off soon and sate at least one of my addictions, there’s no telling what will happen if I snap. So I won’t do it for this human girl. I won’t even do it for the thrill. I’ll do it for Eden. Because this is what she would want. And even if she was never mine, I will always be hers.
I kill the purring engine with a resigned huff. “Fine. But please refrain from making a mess. There’s probably not a decent dry cleaner for miles and I just got this car detailed.”
Michael smoothes the lapels of his suit jacket. Thank fuck he’s traded in his usual off-white getup for something a little less conspicuous. “Deal. You know I despise getting my hands dirty.”
We exit the vehicle in sync. The second the sound of the closing doors echo across the lot, all movement ceases as the merry gang of jerkoffs glower at us with shock and contempt.
“I thought I told you to leave, asshole. I’m no fag, but if you don’t hop in your fancy car and get the fuck out of here, you’re gonna get fuck
ed next.”
The smile slides onto my face so seamlessly that it feels like I’m stretching a well-worn rubber band. Eyes lowered, hands in my pockets, I casually saunter towards them as if taking a Sunday stroll. Michael sidles up beside me, his pursuit just as unhurried. This’ll be fun.
“Promises, promises. No, I don’t think you’ll be fucking me or anyone else tonight. Because in about three minutes, you’re going to be eating your own dick.”
“Three minutes, brother?” Michael chimes in, his voice amused and buoyant. “You’re getting slow in your old age. I can do it in two.”
“Ah, but can you shove his testicles down his friend’s throat first?” I quip. Mere yards stand between them and us and my excitement builds with every step.
“What the fuck are you talking about? Leave or die. I won’t give another warning.” The bastard has the good sense to stuff himself back into his pants and grab his weapon but it will do him no good. He would need fingers to pull the trigger.
Ignoring his empty threat, Michael asks, “Which friend?”
We stop in front of them, displaying not a single indication that mortal danger has just kissed their filthy faces goodnight. The men crouch into defensive stances, pulling out pistols, knives, and cute little brass knuckles as if they’d even get a chance to swing. Although they’ve abandoned their female companion for the evening, the stupid girl doesn’t instantly flee. Instead, she stands stock-still and stares at us, a mix of shock and excitement reflected in her wide, green eyes.
I lift a single finger and point to the imbecile to my right. “Eeeny, meeny, miney, mo,” I begin, directing my glare on each of them. “Which of you will be the first to go?”
My finger points straight to a flabby meat sack who smells like he hasn’t washed his putrid ass in a week. He raises a hunting knife as if it will do anything but annoy me. I look to Michael. He looks at me, mirroring my devious, crooked grin. Then as quick as vipers, we strike, darting into a savage dance so seamless that it almost seems rehearsed. The human scum don’t even realize what’s happening as we rip limbs from their bodies as if we’re simply breaking twigs off branches. They don’t even have the chance to scream as our hands work as spears that slice into their guts to disembowel them in seconds. Except for one of them. The greasy-haired fucker whose skin looks as if it were splashed with acid. We save him for last. And just as we suspected, he’s far too afraid to beg for mercy or even move as he watches Michael and I tear his friends apart. All he can do is silently cry and shit his pants.
“You were right, Mikey. I am getting slow.” I snatch up a discarded coat—the only thing that isn’t completely soaked with blood and bile—and use it to wipe my hands. “It’s been at least three minutes and this asshole still has his dick attached.”
“True,” Michael remarks, using his sleeve to swipe away the smears of crimson red soiling his soft features. “And his friend won’t be choking down his testicles either.”
“Why not?”
He nods towards the gory pile of intestines that was once his sloppy, smelly mate. “He seems to be missing a throat. And a face.”
I shrug and my mouth twists on one side. “Pity. Well, looks like he’ll be eating his own balls too.”
I step forward, prompting the shit-scented douchebag to stagger back until he falls into the bloody snow, his palms raised in defense in front of him. “Please!” he begs, spittle shooting from his cracked, white lips. “I can pay you. I have money. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”
“Money?” I touch a hand to my chest, pretending to be impressed by his pathetic offer. I could buy and sell any and every one he’s ever known. What use would I have for his meager fortune when everything he owns resides in his veins?
“Yeah, I swear. And drugs. I can get you drugs, man. Whatever you want. Girls too. Or guys, whatever you’re into. Young ones too.”
“Oh?” Another step towards him. “How young?”
“Kids, man. Barely outta diapers if you like ‘em like that. I could even get you a baby.”
I have to struggle to keep the fire from raging at my fingertips as I take another step towards him. The scent of embers falls over us, diffusing his stench. “A baby? You could get me a baby to sate my perverse sexual desires?”
“Hell yeah! Whatever you want. If you let me go, I’ll get you as many babies as you want. Boys, girls…just tell me what you want.”
“Unlimited access to children…” I muse, crouching down before him so we’re eye level. So he can see the fury sparking in my violet eyes behind my impassive guise. “You just snap your fingers and anything I want is at your disposal. You just take it. Even if you’re ripping babies straight from their cribs.”
“Wait, wait. Hold up. I never said…,” he stammers. Tears roll down his corroded cheeks.
“No, you said that you use children as no more than currency for the depraved and immoral. And in this particular transaction, you’d like to buy your pitiful, worthless life and in exchange, you will give me a child who could very well still be nursing from its mother’s breast.” I move in even closer, my smile stretching wider to show teeth. “Sadly for you, there’s nothing I loathe more than a pedophile. I don’t even get out of bed for cheaters and liars, and even a murderer may earn a yawn from me. But a pedophile? Ah, it’s like Christmas morning.”
He chokes on a sob. “Who…who are you?”
“I’m the fucking Devil.” My mask falls for a mere second, just long enough for paralyzing fear to seize a coronary artery and send him into cardiac arrest. But a heart attack is far too kind for him; there’s no way I’m letting him off that easily. So I make good on my promise and relish every gruesome second of ripping his testicles clean from his body and shoving the pulpy tissue and tendons into his mouth while the rest of his body struggles to pump what’s left of his blood to his heart.
He’s dead before the snow beneath his miserable frame melts into the massive pool of red at our feet. And still, I am not satisfied. Although his death was gory enough, it did not sate the deep need that echoes in the marrow of my bones. It may have thrilled me for a moment, but it didn’t begin to even marginally fill the Eden-shaped hole in my chest.
I stand erect, taking a handful of unsullied snow with me to clean the bits of bloody skin and tissue from my hands.
“So much for not making a mess,” Michael remarks sardonically.
“Well, he had it coming,” I shrug, turning to eye the crime scene. “We can buy new clothes when…”
Shit.
“Oh. My. Fucking. God! Holy shit! Ho-leeee sheeeeet!”
The girl—that goddamn stupid girl who should have been a mile away by now—is still here. She witnessed everything. And instead of running away screaming, her face is lit up with excitement and admiration.
I really look at her for the first time. Short hair dyed jet-black, green eyes rimmed with heavy liner, dark clothes, and rings through her nose, eyebrow, and lip. Great. Not another Satan stan. This is not what we need.
“What are you still doing here?” Michael questions. He appears just as annoyed and anxious as I do. We didn’t save this girl’s life just to have to kill her. Damn. Loose ends were so much easier to tie up when we could rely on our gifts. A snap of the fingers, and we could simply Men in Black that shit.
The goth pixie steps forward, maneuvering over around guts and body parts. She doesn’t even flinch. “I wasn’t going to just leave you two, not after you stepped in to help me. Besides, you needed a lookout.”
I nod stiffly. “Take care of yourself, kid.” I turn around and head back to the car. Michael takes my lead and falls into step with me.
“Wait!” the girl calls out from behind us. “What am I supposed to do now? My clothes are ruined and all my stuff is soaked with blood.”
“Take a shower and hit a laundromat,” I answer, not even bothering to turn around.
She’s right behind us. What the hell? Why isn’t she scared shitless and crying hysterica
lly while running in the opposite direction? Have I lost my touch?
“I can’t. I have nowhere else to go. No money, no family. And that guy you just castrated? That’s Butch’s younger brother. And the second Butch finds out what happened tonight, I’m dead. He’s got guys everywhere and you don’t know what these assholes are capable of.”
Here we go again with the mortal delusions of grandeur. I roll my eyes. “Not my problem.”
“Not your problem? I’ve got an even bigger target on my back, thanks to you two psychos!”
The girl is right on our heels. Even after the massacre she just witnessed, she still has no sense of self-preservation. Obviously, saving her life was a waste of a good suit.
“This is an odd way of saying thank you,” Michael grumbles. “Would you rather we had let those ingrates rape and maim you?”
We make it to the car, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that this foolish human girl believes she’s coming with us. Michael and I turn and look at her expectantly, wondering what the hell she’s not understanding.
“Look, I really appreciate you helping me—”
“My intervention had nothing to do with helping you,” I counter, cutting her off.
The reality that killing those bastards was more for me than for her gives her pause, but she soldiers on. “Oh. But…still. Thank you. I appreciate it, no matter what your reasons were. But now I’m in even more trouble. Not just from Butch either; Butch is just a dealer. I need to get to Vegas. There’s this guy my brother works for…they call him Casper. They say he’s a ghost because not even the FBI can trace him and very few people have actually seen him. Not even Butch, who works for him too. My twin got into some bad shit and now he’s being held hostage, probably being beaten and tortured daily. And the deal is, if I go to Vegas to work off his debt at one of Casper’s businesses, they’ll let him go. So you see…I need to get out of here. To save my life and my brother’s.”
Such Violent Delights: A Holiday Paranormal Romance Anthology Page 22