Holy Socks And Dirtier Demons (13 page)

cautiously, her eyes leery as she paused at the steel blade embedded in Dante.

I cupped Dante’s head in my lap, and applied pressure to the wound, but it

was too late. Blood flowed from him like the Amazon.

“Tell my mother I love her.” His eyelids flickered, and his breathing

became harsh before stopping altogether.

“Damn it, Lilith, do something.”

She shrugged, not really paying me any attention. I felt sick. Poor

guy. That fucking sword was cursed.

“Try mouth-to-mouth,” Dante whispered. The blood running down

his shirt vanished before my eyes. I released him, and his head hit the floor

with a thud. “Ouch.” He rubbed at the dented spot on his skull. “Humans

have no sense of humor.”

Glaring at him, I picked up the sword, and slammed it into the wound

again. “How’s that for funny?”

Lilith laughed, but Dante looked annoyed. I pulled the sword out, and

wiped the blood on the leg of his pants. I planned to run him through again,

but Lilith stopped me.

“Play time is over. We should get out of here before something bad

does happen.” Lilith took my arm, and smiled at Dante. “Put it on my

account.”

75

Twenty One

I dragged the sword for half a block to Lilith’s Gremlin. A thick

condensation marred the windows of the vehicle, and the seats squished

when I sat. Lilith slid into the driver’s seat, and went through the pre-start

checklist. Bang, bang, bang on the dashboard. Pump, pump, pump on the gas

pedal, an eye roll, and finally ignition.

The engine coughed to life, less forgiving of its watery adventure the

night before than me. I glanced at Lilith profile as we puttered up the street.

What had I gotten myself into I wondered for the tenth time in an hour.

“What do you suggest we do now?” I rolled down the side window to

air out the moldy stench rising from the backseat.

“I know someone who can help us find J.C.”

“Who?” And why the fuck didn’t she say so before?

“Sibillie.”

I shook my head. “The fortune teller at Coney Island?”

She nodded, and hit the brakes hard to avoid a guy in a dress riding a

unicycle. “Feel like taking a ride?”

I shrugged. Why not?

The angel stuck his head up from the hatchback. “I love Coney

Island. They have cotton candy, and a woman with a beard.” He looked well

rested, and excited at the prospect of a trip through Brooklyn.

“Not today they don’t.” Lilith flipped on the windshield wipers

brushing flakes of snow from the glass. Like a wintery wasteland, the snow

fell heavier as we traveled south through Brooklyn.

~ * ~

Gray sky met gray buildings, gray brick, and the gray skin of the

gray-haired citizens as we entered Coney Island. The city looked like a

washed out version of a noir movie.

Lilith flicked her lighter, and smoke curled from the end of her clove

cigarette. “God, this city is depressing in the winter.”

I completely agreed. In the dead of summer, Coney Island resembled

a riot in Detroit, but with fat guys in Speedos and funnel cakes rather than

mobs of angry teens with torches. In the summer, lights and peals of laughter

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split the air, and pink cotton candy cones melted in the sun. In the winter

though, the place looked like a death camp.

Sunken-eyed people dammed to live here year-around watched as we

drove past. A shiver ran up my spine. I turned around and smacked the angel,

who sat behind me breathing on my neck.

Lilith parked the Gremlin inches from the front gate of the Astroland

Amusement Park. A thick chain separated us from the home of the World

Famous Cyclone as the sign overhead promised.

Frowning, Lilith kicked at the lock and mumbled to herself. The gate

rattled, but the lock held. She smashed her foot into it again. “Ow. Shit.”

Dancing around, she held the toe of her boot and moaned.

I stepped back to avoid her flailing body, only to smack into the

angel’s granite like chest. I pushed from him, and reached out to steady

Lilith.

Why did I let her talk me into these things? “What kind of succubus

can’t open a damn lock?” I reached into my jean and pulled out a small knife.

Thirty seconds later, I unwrapped the chain and we pushed our way inside.

Lilith headed to the Dante’s Inferno ride, and the six-foot fortune

telling arcade game in front of it. Sibillie, the gypsy queen of hearts. Plug a

quarter in, and Sibillie offered vague predictions straight out of the 1920’s, a

sad gimmick, but a prosperous one if Sibillie’s worn start button was any

indicator.

I followed Lilith, stopping every few steps to reel the wayward angel

from the Ferris wheel, Cyclone, and the freak sideshow. It didn’t seem to

matter to him that the rides weren’t operating and the freak show stood

empty.

“Damn it.” I grabbed for the sleeve of his robe one more time. “We

don’t have time for this.”

We finally caught up with the succubus. She stood next to the

wooden fortuneteller searching her pockets for a quarter. I dug into my own,

finding a breath mint, two copper pennies, and a condom. I glanced at the

angel, and he shrugged. It figured.

Lilith started to laugh. “Here we are, some of the most powerful

forces in the universe,” she glanced at me, and added as an afterthought, “and

Jace, without a quarter between us.”

“Well, we could pray for divine intervention, or,” I pulled out my

knife, “we could improvise.”

“Thou shalt not steal.” The angel tucked his wings into his armpits

and glared at me.

“And you should mind your own business.” Lilith slugged him in the

stomach. He clutched his mid-section, and whimpered before falling onto the

snowy pavement.

I rolled my eyes, and went to work on Madame Sibillie’s coin box.

Sliding the knife into the crease below the metal box, I shook it back and

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forth. The blade slipped, taking a chunk from my thumb. “Fuck,” I screamed,

sucking at the bloody wound.

“Careful, Jace. We don’t want to damage Sibillie.” Lilith stood over

my shoulder, ringing her hands like a maiden in a cheesy romance novel.

Like the ones my second wife devoured, which now that I thought about it,

had led to our divorce. Who wanted a wife with expectations?

Wiping the blood on my jeans, once again I pressed the knife into the

corner of the coin container and peeled away the wooden guard.

Come to Papa.

A zap lit the air around me, and my body flew backwards through the

gray sky. I landed about twenty feet away, my fingers pulsing with

electricity. “I must have shorted her out.”

“I don’t think so,” Lilith said, eyes intent on Sibillie’s plaster face.

“As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure you turned her on.”

Shaking the snow from my pants, I stumbled to my feet, and stepped

closer for a better look. Sure enough, Sibillie wore a smile that all but

screamed post-orgasmic bliss. Lights flashed in her plastic case, and eerie

gypsy music from the era of finger waves and flapper dresses crackled from

the booth.

“I’ll be.” I grinned and winked at Lilith.

She laughed, sending waves of desire rolling along my skin. “You’ll

have to show me that trick sometime.”

“It’s all in the wrist.”

Sibillie waved her mechanical hands over a fake crystal ball. “Hey

there, Flyboy. You goofy over Sibillie?”

I glanced at Lilith, and she shrugged.

“Yeah, Flyboy, I’m talking to you. What? Are you handcuffed to that

jane?” Sibillie’s lips didn’t move, but her voice reverberated oddly around

me. “The dame’s pretty, but not as keen as Sibillie.”

“Right, you’re the bees-knees.” I’d watched a Bogart movie or two.

“But I came here for your help to find a lost kid, not to... umm.”

“Fuck like machines,” Lilith supplied, trying to contain a smile.

“Yeah that.” I shot her an annoyed look and turned back to Sibillie.

“Will you help me?”

Sibillie sighed, but waved her mechanical arms over the ball once

more. Lights flashed, swirling faster and faster. A few seconds later, a card

popped from the wooden box. The whole thing seemed anticlimactic.

Lilith pulled the card from the slot. “It’s for you.” She passed the

card to me and grinned.

I read it aloud: “You will get lucky tonight, Flyboy.” I glanced at

Sibillie. She winked with her plastic eye. I swallowed my revulsion.

“Thanks. That’s a real generous offer, but I need to find the lost kid. Help me

to do so, and I will rock your… box.”

Lights flashed again, and blue flashes swirled around the booth.

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Another card flew out. I reached for it this time. It read: What you seek is

sought. What you feel is bought. What you love is all for naught. Have you

looked in Hell’s Kitchen?

My eyes flew to Lilith’s. “The Clinton,” I said, giving the newly

generic name of what was once known as Hell’s Kitchen.

“But where?”

Sibillie sighed. “Ask them.”

“Who?” I glanced over my shoulder, but saw no one. A whiff of

sulfur warned me of danger, but the biggest clue was Sibillie exploding into

tooth picked-sized splinters.

Shoving me to the ground seconds before the blast, Lilith threw her

body across me as fiery plaster parts scattered around us. But, other than

Sibillie, the gypsy queen of Lincoln Logs, we sustained little damage.

“What the hell happened?” I lurched to my feet, pounding on my ears

to stop them from ringing.

“What?” Lilith cupped her own ear, or on closer inspection, cupped

what used to be her ear. The blast had blown it clean off. Greenish blood

leaked from the wound.

Helping her to her feet, I winced at the damage to the side of her

face. A glow pulsed beneath the skin, growing brighter. I stroked my hand

against it, and the wound healed instantly. I jumped back, surprised. Shit.

Maybe I was an angel.

“Don’t get too excited. I’m pretty much immortal.” Lilith swabbed

the blood from her newly formed ear.

“Pretty much?”

She lifted her eyebrow. “Pretty much.”

“Huh.” I filed the information away for future use. “What

happened?”

“Someone or thing blew the shit out of Sibillie.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.” I glanced around at the burning embers. “Is
it

still here?”

Lilith licked the tip of her finger, and stuck it into the air. “Nope, but

it’s going to snow.” A few flakes dropped from the sky.

A groan drew my attention. I reached down and plucked the angel

from underneath a pile of flaming Sibillie. Singed hair and burnt feathers

tickled my nostrils, but it was the look of his head that made my day. It was

half-bald and pink as the kid’s ass with diaper rash.

“Do not say a word.” He raised his eyes to heaven and disappeared.

“Neat trick,” Lilith said, tucking a piece of my own singed hair

behind my ear.

Her closeness bothered me. The scent of her. The feel of her skin.

But it was the thought of losing her that set me on edge. Damn, I actually

liked her. When had that happened?

“Be honest with me.” I grabbed her hand as she ran her fingers across

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my lips, and motioned between us. “Am I going to regret this?”

“Probably.”

“That’s what I thought.” Looping my arms around her waist, I

dragged her close. Maybe Sibillie was right, and I would get lucky tonight.

80

Twenty Two

“This is an endorphin reaction to a nearly being killed.” Lilith

stripped off her jacket and tossed it on the passenger seat of the Gremlin. “It

means nothing.”

I tugged at my sweatshirt. “Nothing. Just a little life affirming

exercise.” Freeing my arms, I pulled Lilith’s body across mine in the tight

confines of the car. However, there were advantages to a hatchback. The

main one, she got to be on top.

“I don’t even like you.” Lilith bit my naked shoulder, drawing blood.

“Ditto.” My tongue entered her mouth, taking its time to explore the

texture of her taste buds.

Anything but submissive, her tongue warred with mine, teeth nibbled

on my lips, and her hands roamed across my chest. Shiver skated over my

skin; however, I was far from cold. I fisted my hand in her hair and lifted her

head to meet my eyes.

“We don’t have much time.” She raked her nails down my chest.

Yellow eyes flaming orange as her breath turned shallow, lungs straining

against her rib cage.

“It doesn’t take me much time at all.” I traced my fingers along each