Holy Socks And Dirtier Demons (20 page)

The screen swallowed half a block of prime Times Square real estate,

and could be seen from space. But Astronauts, like most Americans, chose to

watch reruns of The Simpsons over Fox News. Who could blame them?

An image of cat-yellow eyes flashed across the screen, followed by a

child’s laugh. Lilith and the kid were close, lost somewhere in the labyrinth

of corporations, and television studios.

I sucked in a deep breath and looked up at the glowing white and red,

Virgin
sign. Behind the bright lights, an evil without name lurked.

The voice inside my head cried again, “Too late.”

Not this time.
I swallowed hard and ran straight for hell.

~ * ~

According to my good versus evil manual, every city had an

entryway to hell. New York was no different. In the alley behind the Virgin

building, a heavy blue dumpster sat, half of its rollers broken leaving it

listing to one side. Beneath the dumpster, a blackened grate covered the

doorway to hell. An entryway to the dammed, an alcove into the underworld.

I reached the alley, creeping carefully through the shadows. Day

shifted to night. An evil darkness filled the corridor. A dark so complete, I

couldn’t see my feet squishing through God knew what on the concrete

below.

My hand trailed along the hard brick, counting off each step. The

angel followed behind me, actually floated behind me, his shoes too precious

to wade through petrified rat shit and rotting lettuce.

“I do not like the dark,” he whined. “Nemamiah, I said I do not like

this darkness.”

I held up my hand. “Shut up.” A scratching sound, like metal

scrapping against metal, echoed ahead. Shit. Was something escaping from

or to hell?

Peering into the blackness, maybe ten feet ahead, a twinkle of metal

caught my eye. Fear spiraled through my body and my heart rate went into

overdrive.

The angel sniffed. “Is that sulfur I smell?”

Damn.

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I ducked seconds before the deafening sound of gunfire pierced the

night air. The slug slammed into the wall next to me, sending debris flying. I

spit out a glop of broken brick, and pulled my nine-millimeter.

The darkness gave me one advantage, the bastard trying to kill me

couldn’t see any better than me, unless the assassin was a demon. I glanced

at the gate of hell and swallowed.

What were the odds? Another shot rang through the alleyway. A

geyser of blood burst from my left arm, as did a quarter-sized chunk of flesh.

Fuck. I dropped my gun and grabbed my lead-riddled arm. Muscle

and bone bits stuck to my sweatshirt. My head swam, and my stomach

recoiled.

“Ummm, Angel. A little help here.” Another bullet whizzed past my

head. “Angel?” My eyes scanned the darkness for his shiny blond hair.

Nothing. Some guardian angel he was.

“I missed you, lover.”

I quickly looked up, nearly biting off my tongue at the sight in front

of me. Mary, backlit by a sudden white light, stood less than ten-feet away

with a chrome-plated pistol clutched in her hand. What, Smith & Wesson’s

didn’t come in pink?

“Yeah, you did,” I said with a bitter laugh. “But I’m guessing the

fourth time will be the charm.”

“I hope so.” She cocked the weapon, her finger tightening on the

trigger.

Seconds from death, probably a much-deserved death for being

stupid, my only thoughts were of Lilith. I’d fucked up, and it was about to

cost us both. I stared unblinking into Mary’s cold eyes and prepared to meet

my maker.

Mary blew me a kiss, and pulled the trigger.

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Thirty Five

A fine dusting of granulated sugar exploded from the gun, peppering

me with diabetic buckshot. Better than a bullet, I supposed, but it still stung

like a son-of-a-bitch.

“What the fuck?” Mary twisted the barrel to face her and glared

down the sugary mess crammed into it.

My laughter bounced off the brick walls of the alley. Having been on

the receiving end once too often in the past eight months, I immediately

recognized the kid’s handiwork. For whatever reason, he had an aversion to

guns and the occasional crown of thorns.

Mary’s cold gaze turned on me, and I smiled. Time to end this game.

I picked my nine-millimeter off the ground, chambered a round, and steadied

my aim.

Before I got a shot off, Mary ran, her long legs tearing up the

pavement. Every muscle in my body screamed to fire, to shoot the traitorous

bitch in the back and be done with it.

I hesitated, and those few seconds changed the course of history. My

history at least.

Mary disappeared around the corner as I fired. The bullet went wide,

striking a passing tourist in the thigh. A minor flesh wound at the most. Hell,

he’d have a great story to tell the folks back in Kansas about the big, bad

city.

I lowered my gun and clutched at my shoulder. The pain wasn’t too

bad, a well deserved intense burn. But a worse sting crawled along my

nerves—shame—it mingled with disgust at my stupidity.

I’d fallen for a devil in fucking pink high heels. Another idiot blinded

by a pretty girl. That was what my tombstone should read, but the kid had

saved me. It was time to return the favor.

I stumbled along the brick wall, closer and closer to Hell’s Gate. If

the kid was down there I would find him. A low moan rumbled from the end

of the alley, maybe ten or fifteen feet behind the dumpster.

Lilith.

The hair on my neck rose, and sickness pooled in my intestines. I

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was too late. Running toward the noise, I prayed with each step. But God had

abandoned me.

Lilith lay against the hard brick of the building with her eyes closed,

and her arms wrapped protectively around her body. Greenish-black blood

puddled under her. Tyrfing stood tall and proud embedded between her

second and third rib. The sword seemed to smirk, its blade running black

with the blood pouring from her. The woman dying of its violence had

satisfied Tyrfing’s bloodlust.

“Oh sweetheart.” I touched her cheek.

Her eyelids flickered. “Jace? You made it. I knew you wouldn’t let

Him down.”

“Yeah, I’m here.” Like that fucking mattered. “Close your eyes.” I

pulled off my bloody sweatshirt, sickened but what I was about to do.

She gave me a small smile. “I give the orders.”

I choked/laughed, and wrapped the cloth around the hilt of the sword.

“I’m sorry.”

I wrenched the blade with all my strength. It popped from her body

like the sword and the stone. A burst of blood followed, its warm spray

touched my skin, and my heart frozen with hate. Dropping the devil sword, I

pressed my sweatshirt to her chest. The cloth quickly ran green with blood.

A child-like cry erupted from inside her arms, and the squirming

head of God’s only son poked itself from the protective shell of Lilith’s arms.

His chubby cheeks, big ears, and single tuff of white-blond hair appeared so

innocent and happy while Lilith lay dying.

“Mine.” The kid reached his sticky hands out.

Lilith grabbed my hand as I reached to take him. “Protect him,” she

whispered, a thin line of blood slipping from her lips. “Promise me, Jace.

Don’t let that murdering bitch have him.”

“I swear on my life.”

She nodded, releasing her hold on us. Her eyes fluttered closed, and

she smiled.

“No.” I tapped her cheeks. “You can’t die on me.”

The angel appeared over my shoulder. “Death is not a punishment. It

is a final reward.”

“Shut the fuck up and do something. Save her.” I put the kid down on

the ground, and pulled Lilith’s body into my arms. Her heart beat under my

fingers, its rhythm fading like my belief in goodness ultimately defeating

evil.

“I cannot affect her timeline.” The angel shook his head.

For a second Lilith’s eyes opened. “I…”

“It’s okay.” I brushed a piece of dirt from her cheek. “Take easy

breaths. The angel will fix you up.”

Her hand reached up to touch my face. The soft caress of her fingers

brought tears to my eyes. I would kill Mary. Hunt her down and destroy her.

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“Jace. I… I….” She coughed, and blood trickled from her lips.

“I’m here, baby. Everything’s going to be all right.”

She shook her head and swallowed. “I…
idiot!
” Her palm slapped

my cheek, and she grinned. “Be careful, and don’t fuck this up.”

With those final words, Lilith, the mother of all succubae, Adam’s

first wife, and the woman I’d fallen for, died in my arms, killed by my

mythical sword, her palm print burned into my skin.

122

Thirty Six

“Bring her back,” I ordered the angel. The warmth of Lilith’s body

started to fade. I was losing her. Forever. No way in hell was I about to let

that happen. She would not get the last word.

Rage killed the grief inside me, turning my mind from sadness to

revenge. I wanted to run after Mary, to choke the life out of her.

“I cannot bring her back.” The angel gazed into my crazed-eyes,

plucked the baby Jesus from the concrete, and held him as one would a

shield. A small, doll-like shield.

“Do it now.” I stumbled to my feet, the pain around my heart

intensifying.

“The mean one is dead. Her time has come.”

“No.” I smacked him in the shoulder, and the kid gave a squeal of

delight.

I pulled back my fist to beat the feathers out of the angel. I’d kill him

if I had to. Lilith couldn’t die. He had to fix her. She’d saved his worthless

ass, and mine. We owed her.

The angel cried, “You wouldn’t hit a man wearing God’s only child.”

“If you don’t bring her back, I’ll...” I dropped my arm, the fight

leaving me as suddenly as it had appeared. I had nothing left. No threats. No

prayers. Nothing that could make this right. I’d fucked up, and it had cost

Lilith’s life. Her sacrifice to my stupidity.

Sacrifice.

The kid.

I smiled and ripped the kid from the angel’s arms. Holding him

tightly, I bent over Lilith’s corpse. “Bring her back. Like you do to the

fossils, or the cockroaches.”

The kid smiled at me, and stuck a finger against Lilith’s nose.

“Mine’s.”

I waited, watching close for a sign.

Nothing.

“Try again. Make her all better,” I said.

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“Mine’s.” Again, he touched her nose, and again, not a damn thing

happened.

“The mean one’s soul has departed.” The angel tilted his head toward

Hell’s Gate. “You cannot save her, Nemamiah.”

“You’re right.” I shoved the kid at the angel, and picked up the big-

ass gun tucked in Lilith’s boot. It felt warm in my hand, like the last of her

life force was centered in its steel. “I can’t save her but I can sure as hell

bring her back.”

“Do not be stupid.” For once, the angel looked uncertain and even a

little scared.

“Cover his eyes.” I pointed to the kid.

The angel did as I ordered, but appeared extremely unhappy about it.

“God will be angry.”

“Then we’re even.” I aimed the gun at my skull and pulled the

trigger.

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Thirty Seven

I blinked a few times, my eyes adjusting to the reddish light

surrounding me. Not that there was anything to see. A few digital numbers.

136. 135. 134…

The numbers whizzed by at warp speed, descending much like me. I

was in an elevator heading to hell and my eternal punishment. Suicide, a

mortal sin, had secured my ticket. Now I just had to locate Lilith, and wait

until the moronic angel dragged me back to the land of the living.

Okay, it wasn’t the best plan, or even a good plan, but I refused to let

Lilith go without a fight. She’d sacrificed her life for the kid, and it was my

destiny to return the favor. God and His grand plan be damned.

I glanced around the elevator. If not for
The Song That Never Ends

sung by Celine Dion, in a high, Canadian whine, and the aroma of closed-in

elevator farts, it had the same homey feeling as any other elevator in New

York. On second thought, it was exactly like any other elevator in the city.

After an eternity or maybe two minutes, the elevator lurched to stop.

I jumped when the doors opened, knocked back by a flash of heat that shirred

my skin.

A giant demon stood waiting for the elevator, his flat head at odds

with his huge, rounded stomach. He was also purple and smelled like spoiled

garbage, so he probably didn’t get much action outside of hell.