Holy Socks And Dirtier Demons (11 page)

prayers like a good prodigal son.” Broken commandant number eight. As

soon as the cards had arrived by special messenger, Saint Jude in this case, I

trashed the deck and bought the kid a coloring book. He deserved a little fun

before making any grand sacrifice.

“Let me speak with him,” God said.

“He’s not here right now.” I scratched my head. “He had a play

date.”

“A play date?” Suspicion buzzed in his voice.

“Yeah, a play date.” A sudden crackle in my brain sent me to my

knees. The tide of voice, once calmed by the kid presence, broke free, and for

a second I went mad. Like a switch, the voiced flicked off and silence filled

my skull.

“When my
son
gets home from his
play date
, call me. And it better

be soon.”

A few clicks later, His secretary came back on the line. “The Lord

would like to remind you Easter is fast approaching, and you have yet to give

up anything for Lent. He suggests lying, but leaves the final decision to you.”

The line went dead.

Damn. “Thanks for your help.” I hung up the phone and kicked the

angel’s chair.

He raised his wings in an innocent gesture. A feather drifted to the

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floor. “What did I do?”

“Never mind. How long do I have?” I chugged the rest of my

whiskey, wiping my mouth with my sleeve.

“Before He smites you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, but more importantly, how long to find the

kid?” My certainty that he was safe was beginning to unravel.

A knock sounded at the front door at the same time my phone rang.

Torn, I checked the caller ID, and smiled.

“You just can’t get enough of me, huh?” I chuckled into the phone.

“You son of a—” Lilith screeched.

I interrupted, “Nice of you to ask, I’m feeling fine. The ribs healed

nicely, thanks to the angel you locked in your trunk.”

“It’s a hatchback.” Her voice tightened. “What did you do to my car?

It’s all wet, and smells like… toilet water.”

Uh oh. I ran to my window, and watched the Gremlin’s taillights

disappear around the corner. “I had a little accident, but lucky for you and

your insurance company, nobody was hurt.”

“You bastard. When I get my hands on you… Hell is too good for

you. I’m going to peel away you flesh with a rusty knife, and—”

The phone in my hand grew hotter with each syllable. I pulled it from

my ear, and smoke curled from the mouthpiece. “Ow!” I dropped the now

red hot metal, but her tirade continued. Muffled, but filled with bloodlust.

A fist banged on the door, reminding me Lilith wasn’t my only

concern. “Coming.” I pulled my nine-millimeter, and a cross made out of

Popsicle sticks. The kid had even drawn in a picture of a guy hanging off the

cross. I hoped like hell that he didn’t notice the resemblance.

“Yeah?” I threw open the door, and quickly stepped back a few feet.

The biggest, greenest demon I’d ever seen hunched in the hallway, his lizard

skin lined with pus and boils. Munkar, the Muslim gatekeeper. Shit.

“Who is your Lord?” Munkar bowed his head.

Question one of three. To answer any one of them wrong meant a

brutal beating unlike any I’d ever experienced. Allah sure knew how to get

respect. I smiled politely. “I think you have the wrong apartment.”

“You are not the protector of the innocents? Keeper of justice?” He

frowned, swishing his forked tail. It crashed through the plaster, leaving a

six-foot hole in the stairwell.

“No. He lives four doors down on the right.” I pointed down the hall

to the apartment of a creepy hobbit named Michael. His lack of hygiene and

mountains of muse-bondage magazines eased my conscience.

Munkar licked his plump lips, probably debating eating me, before

backing down the hallway. I shut the door, threw the dead bolt, and headed

for the window.

“Do we have more visitors?” The angel looked excited by the

prospect.

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“Nope. Wrong apartment.” A scream echoed from the hallway,

followed by the unmistakable sound of chewing. Bad way to go.

I grabbed a book from the table, and hurled it through my window.

Not wasting a second, I climbed out of the window, glass digging into my

palms, and down the fire escape. The angel gazed at me, his head tilted in

question.

“I dropped my Bible.” I picked the book off the ground, and flipped

through the pages. “No harm done.”

An angelic screech followed by a burp rang from overhead. Feathers

and green gooey floated from my open window.

A few seconds later, a stuffed green demon exited my building. He

paused in the center of the street. Belched again, and exploded before my

eyes.

The angel swiped at a spot of demon guts clinging to his robe, but

looked no worse after being digested by Munkar. Michael, the hobbit, on the

other hand, didn’t look pleased at all. His torso had a large bite mark, and

half of his hair was missing.

“How am I gonna pick up chicks now?” He pointed at the gaping

wound in his stomach. “It’s hard enough being a three-footer, but a three-foot

tall freak with half a head of hair and a colostomy bag ain’t gonna get no

play.”

I wanted to point out that Danny Devito did all right, but I wasn’t

sure that would further his cause. The Hobbit glanced at the demon mess,

shook his head, and slipped back into our building.

“I do not like this place.” The angel fluffed his hair, ridding it

instantly of dead demon parts. “In Heaven I am treated with reverence. Here

I am beaten, and locked in a trunk.” He raised his hand before I corrected

him. “Fine, hatchback, and served as a demonic entrée. I cannot wait until

God smites you, and this horrific assignment is finished.”

“What’s with this smiting stuff?” My expression shifted to sincere.

“If you’d help me locate the kid, you’d be sleeping on your heavenly cloud in

no time.”

“Angels do not sleep on clouds.” Shaking his robe, he sniffed the air.

“Something is on fire.”

I glanced toward my broken window. Sure enough, flames shot from

it, licking at the outside bricks. Picturing my smoldering cell phone, I cursed.

Lilith sure had paid me back for stealing her car. I was now

homeless, stuck with a bitter angel, and my only possessions consisted of a

gun with, I checked the clip, four rounds, and a beat-up Bible.

A fire truck pulled to the curb and the NYFD’s finest burst from it.

The first two firefighters slipped on demon guts, causing a chain reaction of

dominoed guys in fireproof suits. It would’ve been funny if it weren’t my life

turning into ash four stories above.

“Let’s get out of here.” I waved to the angel, and tossed the Bible to

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the ground. From now on, I was playing by my own rules.

66

Nineteen

The sun rose over Central Park, reflecting off the fine layer of snow

that had fallen last night, last night at about 4:37 a.m. to be precise. Having

slept in the park, bundled in an old issue of the New York Post, I’d know the

exact moment when my life went from shit to
shit.

Coldness froze my fingers, turned my toes black, and my ears searing

red with frostbite. That wasn’t the worst of it. The angel had spooned me

sometime in the middle of the night. His non-anatomically correct parts

pressed into my back. It didn’t get lower than that.

“Isn’t this sweet.” Lilith kicked the newspaper from my body, and

dropped a cup of coffee at my head.

I snatched it out of the air, warming my numbed fingers against the

cardboard cup. “I thought I warned you to stay away from me.” It hadn’t

come out as tough as I wanted through my chattering teeth.

The angel whispered something in his sleep, and tried to snuggle

closer to me. I jumped up, feeling dirty.

When my eyes adjusted to the morning light, I took in the beauty

surrounding me. No place on Earth was as perfect as Central Park at first

light, then my gaze fell on Lilith. For a heartless demonic bitch, she looked

damn good. Dressed in black cargo pants, black leather lace-up boots, and a

heavy green army jacket, she appeared ready to kick ass. Masochistic lust

flared in my icy body.

She took my frozen hand in hers. The heat from her body slowly

melted my frostbitten bones. Was it an act of kindness or did she want

something?

I pulled away. “What do you want?”

She tsked, her tongue clicking against white teeth. “I wasn’t lying

when I said we’re not enemies, Jace.” Her lips twisted into a flirty smile. “As

a matter of fact, we could be friends. Good friends.”

“No.”

A line formed above her brow. “And why not?”

“Because not only did you lie to me, you betrayed me.”

Rage filtered across her features. She tried to conceal it, but for a

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second or two, I scored a direct hit. She blinked and the anger vanished.

“Betrayal is a good choice of words, but I did not come here to argue the

point.”

“So why are you here?”

“Alone, neither of us will find J.C. We don’t have much time left.”

“Does that mean if we don’t find the kid the world will end?” Damn.

The end of time, and my only clean suit had burned up in the fire.

She smiled and tapped the watch. “Wouldn’t that be nice? Nope,

something much, much worse will happen. Something so evil Satan himself

would want the Second Coming restored to his rightful place among the

angels.”

“Oh, your lover has a softer side, huh?” I smirked, wanting to see the

fire glow in her yellow eyes.

“This is not the time, or the place for your jealousy.” She grinned.

“Will you be my partner in finding J.C., or not?”

I glanced at the heavens. I might be dammed, but I would find the kid

if it took my last breath. Reluctantly, I stuck out my hand, and she took it,

pulling me toward her. Her lips crushed mine, sealing our devil pact with a

kiss. The warmth of her lips shot stabs of pain through my frozen ones, but I

wasn’t complaining.

Ten minutes later, we sat side-by-side on a wooden bench, trying

hard not to ruin our tentative peace treaty.

“Why don’t you tell me what you know.” I rubbed my hands

together, keeping loose just in case.

Lilith sucked on a cigarette, smoke mingling with puffs of cold

breath. She crushed the half-smoked cigarette under her boot and stood.

“No.”

“No?”

A smile touched her lips. “Let’s start by buying you some clothes,

and me some breakfast, and then I might share my secrets, but only if you

promise to be a good boy.”

The good boy remark pissed me off, but I let it go, too cold, hungry,

and tired to argue. I glanced at my bare chest, threadbare jeans, and one

shoeless foot. For future reference, when sneaking down a fire escape in the

middle of February, remember to dress accordingly.

“Should we wake him?” Lilith gestured to the angel. He lay curled in

a ball, wings tucked around his body for warmth, and a serene smile on his

face.

“Naw, he’ll catch up. Eventually. He always does.” I dropped my

newspaper blanket across him, and left the park, arm in arm with Satan’s

whore and my personal succubus.

~ * ~

I speared a sausage and stuffed it into my mouth. Juice dripped down

my chin, staining my newly purchased Salvation Army sweatshirt. “You’re

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saying that whoever has the kid wants to control the Second Coming? But

why?”

“I have no idea. Maybe they want to challenge God or Satan for

control, or keep things how they are here on Earth. It really doesn’t matter

why, but how can we stop it?” Lilith sipped a glass of orange juice,

grimacing at the acid bite.

A server in a 1950’s uniform trudged to our table, and asked if we

needed anything else. Lilith shook her head no, and the waitress walked

away.

“So how do we stop it?”

“I have no idea.” She winked at me, but added, “But when we find

J.C., we must kill this entity. And to do that, we have to find the right

weapon.”

“Weapon?” Now we were getting somewhere. I loved guns, the

bigger the better. There was no greater feeling than unloading a hundred

rounds from an automatic. The smell of gunpowder. The jerk of the recoil.

Invincibility and God-like power.

Her smile grew into a laugh. “Don’t get too excited. With

supernatural weapons you never quite get what you expect.”