Puck stared down at the gift he had gotten for her. The flawless ruby glittered in the sunlight, complemented by the smaller diamonds that sat at either side of it in an elegant design. By human standards, it was a very impressive gift for a man to give a woman. Even by fae standards, it was still quite a nice piece of bling, and he turned it this way and that, seeing the flashes of color as the flawless diamonds refracted the sun's rays.
It was a magnificent gift, for the most magnificent woman he'd ever known. He slid the gold band onto his pinky and lifted his finger, wiggling it as he imagined how it would look on Koshka's ring finger. It was not hard to visualize how he would present it to her. He would dress himself in a fine black suit, with a red silk tie, and put on a dab of the cologne he knew she liked. He would sink to one knee in front of her, and lift the little velvet box in one hand before opening it and letting her see the ring as he asked her the question...
But that was Malcolm. If he proposed marriage to her, their union would be based off a sham. Koshka certainly was happy with Malcolm, and Puck was confident that he could keep up the charade for years. He'd grown into the role of Malcolm... or had it grown onto him? Being so faithful to the guise he had created offered Puck certain challenges that he'd responded to and learned from. In that respect, was Malcolm such a lie? Was his human guise simply that, a guise, or had Malcolm become a part of himself, a part that he'd seen no real reason to nurture or develop in the past? Such a quandary...
Puck sighed as he slipped the ring off his finger and put it back in its case.
o0o
Koshka walked up the stairs and quickly knocked, calling out before she let herself into the living room of Pam, who had called upon her for vengeance after the murder of her grandson, Jason. She set the brown paper bag on the scuffed but clean dining table. Pam rose from her seat, going to the kitchen to fetch some silverware and dishes for their meal.
The demon was silent as she watched the old woman shuffle across the floor. Mrs. Voorhees had had a difficult life. Born just before the Great Depression, she'd married young to a man who had become alcoholic and abusive. Of her children, little remained. One was in jail for life, another had caused his own death in a drunk driving accident, and the third died from an overdose. The fourth was missing.
Her daughter had been known for being... popular with the men, and ended up pregnant one day. She was quick to abandon her son with her mother, so Pam had been left to raise Jason. Despite his mild mental disability, Jason had turned out better than his mother or aunts and uncles. He gave his grandmother solace, working part-time in the grocery store and reading his comics and building model planes in his room. He was an affable fellow around the neighborhood - there was not one reason to dislike him.
After all she'd suffered in her life, the murder of her grandson unleashed something in her. And Koshka had helped her to channel that into vengeance fitting of those who would kill a hapless victim for pleasure.
The woman whose actions had rocked the community was dying of cancer. She'd been undergoing chemotherapy, but her advanced age and the toll of Jason's death weighed heavily upon her. She was ready to move on, and had stopped doing chemo, living out the remainder of her days in quiet. On the walls were several pictures of Jason and his mother and other family members in various stages of their lives.
Koshka pulled several items out of the bag, including a large container of matzo ball soup, made to order with smaller balls to make it easier for Pam to eat. She'd picked up several things from the Jewish deli, and knowing who it was for, they had made the order special.
The old woman had the table set in several minutes, meticulously placing the dishes while Koshka waited patiently. Pam insisted on receiving guests the proper way, eating at the dining table instead of from a TV tray.
"Have have tings been going with Malcolm?" Pam asked after she delicately spooned some matzo broth into her mouth, savoring the heat.
"Tonight is our one-year anniversary."
"How lovely." The old woman smiled wistfully. Koshka looked around again, taking in the images of Pam's family. There was just one of her husband, taken on their wedding day. He was not a bad-looking guy, and he and Pam did make for a lovely couple, but Koshka knew very well how malice could lurk under a friendly smile. From what she knew, he had been an alcoholic who liked to come home and slap around his wife and children. Fine example he set for his two sons, who had both grown up to be men of no account. His daughters had fared no better. After nearly two decades of marriage, he'd passed from a heart attack, leaving her with a brood of children that ranged from a school-age child to a couple of surly teenagers. She'd done her best. But bad luck seemed to hound her.
Her youngest daughter had run off, abandoning Pam with a mentally disabled grandson. Fortunately, Jason had turned out decently. He was obedient to his grandmother, helpful around the house, friendly as so many simple-minded people were, and was known around the local grocery store as a hard and honest worker.
He'd been the light of his grandmother's life, showing that despite the trials she'd endured, some good had come of them. Then one night, he'd been harassed by members of a gang, resulting in his careless murder.
Now Pam was alone, and dying. She had decided to be done with chemotherapy, and let her time run out on its own. Her thirst for vengeance satisfied, she was ready to move on. It was a little sad for Koshka to see, but she understood.
They chatted a bit as Koshka made some tea, before the old woman went to her bedroom and came back with a velvet ring box. The demon glanced up at her as Pam sat back down with a gentle smile. "I know you sold this to Jason. He wanted to buy me something special, so he went to you."
Koshka nodded slowly. Jason had come to the nearest person he knew who sold jewelry, and all the better for it. She offered him a sapphire ring - Jason said that his grandmother had always loved them - at a prince considerably cheaper than what she normally would have marked it for. Then she'd offered him a simple plan where he would have the ring paid off with six easy installments. He'd paid off the fourth month before his murder, and Koshka had made no attempts to claim the remainder of the balance from his grieving grandmother.
"He told me what you liked, and I offered him a fair deal."
"Take it back, please. I know he did not finish paying it off, and I would like to return it to you as a token of appreciation for what you have done for me."
"Your family?" she asked. Pam slowly shook her head.
"They've done nothing to earn it. If they're still around, they'd just pawn the ring for more drugs or something. I'm leaving my savings to the local animal shelter."
Koshka looked down at the ring. "That ring could make someone else happy. Please make it happen," she heard Pam ask.
"As long as you don't tell anyone, of course. I have a reputation to maintain." If it got out that the big, bad vengeance demon had a bit of a soft spot for humans, who knew what that would do to her reputation. She might need to make sure her next spree was especially bloody, if circumstances called for it.
Pam had only an inkling of that. Her memories of the night she called out for vengeance were a bit hazy, but enough to console her and keep her content for the remainder of her days.
