Part 3 in a series of short stories. Can be read separately.
On the run from a prince of hell, Kai the incubus is broke. His protΓ©gΓ© Jamie is hunted by an angel and a psychopath named Noah has taken up residence in their lair.
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The desert was a technicolor nightmare that noon. Kai squinted at the featureless azure sky and bright sand, his eyes burning with the strain. He had always hated daytime, but in the desert the contrast was cranked up high enough to make his eyes water. He looked through the rifle scope. From the roof of the gas station he could see from horizon to horizon and still remain hidden behind the busted neon sign. Someone could, at least.
He lowered the rifle and dropped it into Noah's hands. The boy almost buckled under the weight of it, but he seemed very pleased. Kai couldn't relate. That hideous gun had wiped out what was left of his bank account and he was very sore about it.
"You promise you know how to use it?" he asked, and Noah nodded, eager to play with his new toy. "Don't go crazy. If you see an angel, shoot it."
"What does an angel look like anyway?" Noah asked, shouldering the heavy rifle with remarkable ease and scanning the desert.
"They'd probably just look like a human."
"So just shoot anything that moves then?"
Kai thought about it for a second. Noah looked at him expectantly, and a shot of pure delight went through him when Kai shrugged.
"Sure. Just keep them away from here. I'm sick to death of cleaning up Jamie with a mop. Have you ever killed anyone before?"
"No," he said with a frown, as if he was reluctant to admit it. "But I'd like to."
"Of course you would. Just keep an eye out while I'm away. And don't play with Jamie."
"Yeah, I know, he's in a time-out. I don't know why you bother. The stupid cunt probably likes it anyway."
"You let me handle my business and I'll leave you to yours. Just be good."
Kai had hoped to sound at least a bit authoritative, but as usual Noah didn't care. He'd gone back to playing with the gun. Kai left him with plenty of bottled water and a chair, so he would probably be okay until evening. And he had places to be.
The metal of the ladder at the back of the roof had been baking in the sun all day and almost burned his hands when he climbed down. It wasn't until he was back on the cracked asphalt that he realized he could have just jumped. He'd been around humans for too long. Those boys were starting to rub off on him.
Back inside he went upstairs to the bedroom. Jamie was still hanging by his wrists from the ceiling, his toes barely touching the floor. The fresh tattoos looked angry and red, but the welts had stopped bleeding. He lifted his head when the door opened.
"Can I come down now?" he asked in a tiny voice, and his head drooped again when Kai walked right past him to the nightstand.
"No. This whole angel business is your fault," he said, riffling through the drawer and getting more agitated by the minute. He hated being awake during the day, he hated being broke and he especially hated what he had to do next. He found what he was looking for soon enough. Jamie had managed to snatch a diamond necklace before hell's army kicked down their door. He could probably sell it for a nice chunk of change, but that would just be a band aid on the gaping wound. He needed to get things sorted once and for all. And he knew just the person to do it.
"Where are you going?" Jamie asked, and he yelped when Kai slapped him on the ass in passing.
"I'm going to see Glory," he said, lingering in the doorway, as if talking to Jamie was a better use of his time than just getting it over with already. It annoyed him to no end when the boy sucked the air through his teeth.
"Oh no, she's so mean. I'm sorry master."
"Don't be. I mean it. And be quiet or I'll gag you again. I'll be back before nightfall."
"Okay. But what if the angel comes back?"
"I've got Noah on the roof with a sniper rifle."
"Oh, good for him, he'll like that," Jamie smiled, and he flinched when Kai glared at him. He finally got it through his thick skull that he was supposed to be quiet. And now that he was, Kai had no more excuse to keep dawdling. There was nothing for it. He stepped into the summoning circle and took a deep breath, clutched the diamonds in his fist, and whispered an incantation he had hoped never to use again. While the world shimmered he resolved not to let his pride get the better of him no matter what. It would all be over soon enough. Maybe she had mellowed with time. And maybe while he'd been out, hell had frozen over.
It was evening in Prague. He could see the bright pink sunset when the tall windows of a luxurious hotel penthouse shimmered into view, the curtains billowing in the cool evening breeze. The scent of the old world filled his heart with nostalgia. Visions of nights on the shores of the Vltava played in his mind. The scent reminded him of opera houses and champagne in stately halls, of masked gatherings in ancient basements, and of Glory, beautiful as the dawn. She stood by the window, and she still took his breath away. It looked like she had been ready to head out, her makeup perfect and her red hair spilling out of a messy pile and over her shoulders. The evening light made her silver gown sparkle. He felt like a clumsy boy on prom night when he smiled at her. She smiled back, with blood red lips. Maybe it would all be okay. When she walked over to him he could imagine for a moment that she'd fall into his arms again. The smile never left her face when she punched him on the nose.
"Ow, fuck!" he shouted, blood gushing on the carpet in thick ropes when he doubled over. He could just see her shake her bruised fist loose. But when he opened his mouth, she held up a stern finger.
"Not a word. You deserved that," she said, and he sighed and touched the bridge of his nose. His eyes were watering. She was slight little thing, but she hit like a freight train.
"Okay, that's fair," he nodded, wiping the blood away with the back of his hand. "If you'd let me-"
He screamed when she planted a knife between his shoulders. Howling in pain he whirled around trying to grab it. She laughed like a hyena when he couldn't reach it and twirled through the room like a dog with an itchy ass. He dropped to his knees, giving up on trying to reach it and seeing stars.
"Have some goddamn mercy," he pleaded. Still laughing she planted her high heel on his shoulder, grabbed the knife and yanked it out. It took quite a bit more howling and heavy breathing before he found himself leaning against the wall, trying to get his bearings again. He flinched when she came at him again, but this time she didn't do anything to him. She just crossed her arms.
"Did you get it out of your system?" he snapped, blowing a wad of blood out of his nose, and she shuddered at his barbarism. "Fucking hell woman, I brought you a present and everything."
He held out the necklace, as if he was trying to distract a magpie from pecking his eyes out. It worked too. She snatched it out of his hand and held it up between her fingers.
"You just yanked this out of a drawer somewhere, didn't you?" she said with real disgust in her voice, and he frowned. "Thought so. Word in the very, very deep underground is that Kai the runaway is broke."
"Flat broke," he nodded, because there was no point trying to play games with her. He watched her twirl the necklace around her gloved finger.
"You know what else I heard?" she said with a voice like a knife. "Go on. Ask me what I've heard."
"What have you heard?" he asked, his eyes following the diamonds sparkling in the evening light. With a flick of her wrist, she flung it over her shoulder and out the open window. She laughed again when he groaned.
"I've heard you're holed up in a gas station. And here I was thinking hell was the lowest you could possibly fall."
That laugh was like a switchblade in the ear, but he tried not to react. She wasn't above turning him in and he knew it very well. But the fact that she knew where he was hiding didn't rattle him. For all her faults, Glory was no snitch. She was perfectly at peace with cozying up to the dukes of hell and consorting with it's outcasts on the side. He had to respect anyone who could play such a dangerous game for so many centuries and thrive. Glory had been around in one form or another since hell was just a hateful flicker in the free mind of the Morning Star. And she had enjoyed every second of it.
"Please tell me you've come to beg for money," she grinned, cleaning his blood off the knife with a silk scarf. "Not that this visit hasn't been delightful up until now, but I am rather looking forward to the groveling. You do it so well."
"Thank you."
"Don't get sarcastic with me," she hissed, pointing the knife at his eye. "Why do incubi always have mouths on them? Actually, I have a theory about that. Would you like to hear it?"
"Yes," he said, because he knew for a fact that he couldn't keep the venom out of his voice if he said one more word. She sat on the edge of the desk by the window, playing with the knife.
"It's the humans. You can't help but bond with them. I keep telling you people. Humans are food, not friends, but do you listen? You roll around in their fluids like pigs in shit, soaking up their dirt and disease, and then you have the gall to act indignant when hell treats you like the cocks on legs you are. Too much time away from the hierarchies of hell, no class, no pride, hell's whores, too deep in pussy and ass to properly fear the light of the Morning Star."