Once You Go Demon (Pure Souls) (11 page)

By this time, both the security guards and the attention of everyone in the corridor had found her. Thing 1 and Thing 2 both hooked an arm around Riona’s as she continued to argue.

“Meal ticket? Save a horse? What the Jim Dandy fuck are you talking about?”

Security guard left chuckled. “Ya know the song: save a horse, ride a cowboy.”

To which security guard right added, “But this one wouldn’t be too bad a filly, no? You sure you want us to throw her out, Luke? Looks like she’s got you redder than a Cheeto in a chip bag.”

“Sure do. Best get her out before she bats those pretty little eye lashes of hers again or frightens Arrow here too much.”

He pulled on the reins of a horse that heretofore had been concealed within the walls of its stall. The dark black beast huffed when its onyx eyes caught sight of her. Riona stilled, enraptured by the animal’s beauty. Even without moving, its grace and majesty awed her.

“Yup, she’s a beaut’, isn’t she?” the security guard on her right. “All balls though. Bucks harder than a Texas whore if anyone but Luke or her owner tries to ride her. She’s hell on hooves, tell you that.”

“Yup,” the other guard concurred as they paused a few feet away to both take in and appreciate survey of the horse. “Beautiful and deadly. Only horse in this show with casualty figures. Wins almost every show, though. Worth the risk.”

“Did you say, she killed someone?” Riona’s head pitched left, reassessing the vision before her. As Luke mounted the horse in a swift, liquid maneuver, she tried to believe what she was seeing. Like stock brokers, animals, while having emotions and personalities, didn’t have souls. Hence, they shouldn’t have an aura. But this horse did, and it burst in to flames around the edges the moment the cowboy mounted her. It reminded Riona of someone cocking back the hammer of a rifle; it was like the horse was loaded and ready to serve.

The horse was a demon? All Riona’s training and research, albeit rushed and incomplete, told her that couldn’t be so. But there was no denying what lay before her. Hellfire, hot and steady, burned around the edges of the beast. “Impossible.”

“An accident, of course,” one of the guards confirmed. She wasn’t sure which one; her attention focused in on the dark equine. “Accidents happen, you know. But they swear that Arrow smiled when the rider fell underneath her and was trampled. Ain’t no one but Luke had the courage to ride her since.”

Magic that knew its purpose began to tickle her finger tips, beckoning her to vanquish the unholy. Hesitation could be deadly, but Riona didn’t know if she was seeing things. Best to consult Dee and Jerry first, she thought. After all, if the horse was part of the rodeo’s lineup, she’d be seeing Arrow again soon.

“I can’t wait to see him ride,” Riona huffed out, feeling herself smile. The effervescent sensation, one she’d been in opposition to for too long, tempted her to suppress it. She couldn’t. Something seething and joyous bubbled to the surface, as though ending this horse was more than her job, it was her purpose.

When the silky southern lilt of the newly arrived well-clad man behind her spoke, it only spiked that sensation. “Perhaps the little lady would like to watch the show with me.”

The security guards wilted away, leaving Riona’s hands free and her heart, pounding. Tall, built, and full of a rage only seen with the magical eye, the stranger instantly made her whole being, both soul and body, tremble.

He offered a hand, and with others on the periphery of their position, she felt obliged to play along and shake it. His skin burned in her grip. He used their connection to draw her in, his whisper into her ear setting her whole being on high alert. There was no doubt what his presence did to her body; just the feel of his breath on her neck had her aching and wanton.

“This here’s the last place in the world I’d expect to find the Keystone,” he laughed.

She arched her head and returned the murmur. “I might say the same about a fallen angel.”

Chapter 12

Jerry caught sight of Dee waving down a beer vendor trolling the stands. The idea of a cool Pabst didn’t exactly sound bad. Sauntering over, he joined the demigod, pulling out a ten spot to hand to the vendor in exchange for some grog.

“See anything?”

Dee leaned back against the railing of the stands and pulled a deep chug, smacking his lips in the wake. “Nope. You?”

“Nothing evil. Some things that are probably illegal under Commonwealth law, but nothing wadding up my panties.”

His eyes surveyed the competition going on in the middle ring. Cowboys—and one brave cowgirl—became rag dolls when trying to endure the wrath of the beasts they were strapped to. The moment they fell to earth, the clowns rushed in to distract the bucking bull, letting the rider scurry away with the last shreds of their bravery intact.

“Never understood the appeal myself,” Dee said, pointing to the ring. “My wife was from Texas. Grew up watching this stuff. Loved it. Me? Totally perplexed.”

Jerry stilled, not really knowing how to answer. He’d had nothing to do with the fall of that particular pillar, so he shouldn’t feel guilt. Yet, knowing Dee’s wife had served and died, shame niggled at his insides. “You must miss her.”

Dee coughed a laugh. “They say time heals all wounds, but they fucking lie.”

“Now I get it.”

The demigod lowered his bottle and half-turn his body, his face a mask of confusion.

“Why you hate me so much,” Jerry said in response to the obvious but unspoken question. “I came back from the dead, and I didn’t deserve it. Clare deserved that, and a whole hell of a lot more, but was taken from you nonetheless. I wish I could explain it, Dee. It’s so un-fucking-fair, but it wasn’t my decision. I’m not sure why a fuck-up like me gets a second chance while someone like Clare never did. I don’t know why I’m here.”

“Just as long as it ain’t for Riona, I don’t really give a flying,” Dee returned, standing up and turning towards Jerry. “She loved Marc, and just because you’re filling his shoes doesn’t mean you stand a shot of ‘filling his shoes,’ get?”

“Yeah, get.” Jerry nodded before taking a step closer to Dee. The demigod had a good six inches over him, but size didn’t matter much when you didn’t need muscles to inflict pain. “I know I flirt and tease, but that’s just who I am. There’s still a huge old question mark on my papers under ‘purpose.’ I think it has something to do with Marc, actually.”

“To give us the inside scoop?” All hostility in Dee’s voice was gone. He focused in on Jerry, almost pleading him to answer.

“For better or worse, I have a good idea of what he’ll be capable of, of how a demon thinks, works, plans. After all, I was in his position for two thousand years. Every demon is different, but in so many ways, every demon is the same.”

“You’ll keep her from getting herself damned, yes?” Dee turned back to the show, focusing on the bulls.

“I’ll do everything within my will,” Jerry assured. He took out his phone and checked the time. “We should probably head back to the entry and find her. See if she found anything.”

Dee extended a hand and pointed at the far end of the ring, just beyond the protective fencing of the inner show floor. “I think someone found
her
.”

“Fuck in a freezer, Dee!” Jerry shot away from the stands and started working his way against the crowd. “Shit, shit, shit. Summon Ramiel. We’re going to need him pronto.”

Dee tried to follow, but his width made maneuvering among plaid acres arduous. “Ramiel can’t get involved in demon battles. You know that.”

“I know,” Jerry confirmed, coming to a standstill where the crowd bottlenecked by the stable entrance. “But that ain’t any demon she’s with.”

Sulfuric fumes cut at her senses, turning the petty contents in her stomach. As the burn in her lungs intensified, a tickle in her throat brought on a round of coughing. The angel before her studied her with humor, slipping his arm around her backside and leading her forward.

“You’re afraid,” he said.

Riona chanced to look directly in his eyes. “I am, but don’t let that fill you with false hope. I can still hit like a drunk sailor, and you look pretty fleshy right now.”

The sentiment drew a laugh as he put his arm around her and drew her towards Arrow. “No need to fret, Riona. You’re embargoed. Neither myself nor any other demon, or even Grigori, can touch you for the moment.” He surveyed her figure from tip to toe with an approving glance. “A shame. I’m sure there’s many who would jump at the opportunity to touch you in any way.”

“I should be flattered?” she asked. Arrow huffed out at her. The draw she felt to this horse unnerved her. Dueling temptations battled within; she both wanted to ride, and half-wished she had her father’s dagger on hand to stab the thing in the neck. “Arrow has killed, huh?”

He nodded as he reached out and laced his fingers into the horse’s mane. “Lefty and Switch told you, I see.” The methodic strokes matched with heavy-lidded amber eyes made her insides squirm, and not in an entirely unpleasant way.

“Yes, Arrow isn’t the most gentle of beasts. She’s made to kill. By the creator Himself, in fact. Putting her in these bucking bronco shows … Well, it hardly satisfies her lust for destruction, but every so often she gets a little out of hand and things end tragically. She’s tasted the blood of many a men through the centuries. What’s a few cowboys or rodeo clowns here and there?” He leaned towards Riona. “Would you like to ride her?”

Yes.
“No.”

“All for the best. It’s almost her time in the ring anyhow. Do you know she’s the only filly this side of the Hell who can face down a two-ton bull and come away unscathed? Present company excepted, of course. Luke, if you don’t mind.” The angel held the reins out to the cowboy, who took it without hesitation. “Clearly there’s more to this Keystone than meets the eye. No wonder you contributed to vanquishing my brother. I can see in your eyes how much you want to mount. And I’m not just talking about the horse. Do you know why that is?”

“Because you’re an angel,” she answered without hesitation. Ramiel had told her so himself. As heavenly creatures, they induced lust. There was no reason to believe that just because an angel had fallen, that would be any different. “I also know that angels don’t get biblical with humans, so you can can the seductive routine.”

He turned the same move on Riona, reaching out to her and twisting a strand of her auburn hair around his finger, tracing the contours of the curl as it fell down her shoulder, over her collar bone, and drifted over her breast. “Fancy that you know a bit about angels, don’t you, darlin’?”

“Enough, but you know the old saying: how can you add water to a full cup? What I’d really like to know about …” Taking a step in, she leaned into him, aligning her mouth with his. “… are demons. Particularly, about what happens to a demon when I vanquish it.”

His hand went down to her waist before circling around to her, pulling their bodies flush to each other. “Curious about how the other half dies, are you? I could arrange a personal tour, if you like, and you don’t have to do a damned thing. Well, technically, you have to do a
damning
thing, but the possibilities are endless on that front.”

Her finger traced down his jawline. “No possibilities for a field trip?”

“Been skipping class again? Human flesh …” His hand reached up to run the back side of his knuckles over her cheek, down her neck, and along the borders of her flannel shirt. “It has many great qualities, but it can’t survive Hell. Without a proper chauffeur, you’d be dead the moment you crossed the river. And no matter how many times I see
The Wizard of Oz,
I just can’t convince myself that dead witches are any fun, Riona.”

Her head cocked to the side. “You know my name, and yet I don’t know yours. That’s very unfair.”

“If you know an angel’s name, you can invoke them. You must know that.”

Teasing his lips with her fingertip, she pulled her best pouty routine. “Maybe I’ll want to call you sometime. So, what is it?”

“Azazel.”

Ramiel ground out the name like an accusation. Riona and the newly-revealed Azazel both whipped around to take in the figure silhouetted against the fluorescent lights at the end of the corridor, a corridor which just moments ago had been bustling, but which now stood as barren as a ball park in a blizzard.

“Though, mark my words, Riona, you won’t invoke him. Ever.” Ramiel’s hand shot down, pointing at the spot on the floor beside him. “Please step away from the General of the army that tried to overthrow Heaven and come stand next to me.”

Looking like a teenager obediently but reluctantly accepting her father’s admonishment, Riona gave Azazel a fleeting smile before going to stand next to Ramiel. He quickly shoved her around the corner, where Dee waited to provide another layer of protection. The demigod pressed her against the wall. Leaning her head, she could still see Ramiel, but only Azazel’s voice still reached her ears. All the good that did. An exchange of heated words and bitter tones ensued in a tongue she couldn’t understand. Something older than any human language, she was sure. After several moments, she gleaned from Ramiel’s tone that their interaction had reached some point of finality.

She heard Azazel sigh. “You know, you should thank me, brother. With Lucifer vanquished, someone has to be topside to oversee our demon lot. Otherwise, they’d all run willy-nilly about. Just think of the havoc.”

“See to your Damnationals, then, but remember that only Lucifer was given permission to battle the Pure Souls directly. I see you anywhere near one of my chosen again, and I’ll be sending your ass on a twenty-nine year vacation,
resain?”

“
Resain,
” Azazel repeated, followed by a hearty chuckle. “She looks so much like
him
, you know.” His body leaned to the side, as though trying to see Riona where she stood shielded. “Has anyone ever told you that before, how much you look like your father?”

Riona’s eyes went wide, and instinctively she tried to clear her protector’s body so she could take the juicy bait Azazel dangled.

Ramiel’s arm lashed out, securing her against the wall. Moving was impossible, and he’d even found a way to silence her voice. “Pack up your gear and go,” Ramiel warned. “Next time I find you near one of my soldiers, you and I are going to have us a little
angelus-a-angelus
rumble,
resain
?”

From where or which direction Jerry came, she’d never be sure. Maybe she was too focused on Ramiel’s words to notice, but when the ex-demon rounded the corner with a pitchfork in hand and magic on his lips, the sight of Jerry enraptured her.

“Why you still talking to this scum bucket, Ramiel? You know Grigori respond to one thing and one thing only.” His arms outstretched and with an invocation she was going to beat the working of from him just as soon as possible, Jerry’s whole being conflagrated, sending flame over his body, out to the tips of the pitchfork. “Fire!” he shouted as the pitchfork’s prongs pierced the Grigori’s abdomen.

Dee’s arms caged around her when instinct told her she had to keep Jerry from getting himself killed. Ramiel reacted quicker, however, pulling forth his wings from whatever back pocket or invisible duffle bag he stored them, and wrapped them around Jerry, forming a layer of protection. It was unnecessary. Whatever it was, whatever Jerry unleashed, hit Azazel in the chest, sending shreds of his existence whizzing in a thousand directions.