Damarion
I sat silent on the floor, my legs crossed beneath me. My shaved head was covered in tattoos that took the form of flames licking at my skull. I demanded we remain motionless in the darkened room. The few windows in the basement of my home had been blacked out. I was trying to feel the bantling that was supposed to emerge at noon.
“Pivane. Do you feel it yet?” I whispered.
“No, Yahweh. I cannot.”
I looked at Pivane with his hair tight to his head. The sharp nose and small features suited his name of weasel.
The seven in my charge attempted to locate other demons in their bantling stage, all while playing like a happy, little middle-class-Brady-fucking-bunch while those who dwelled in this village went on cheering for the local teams and shopping at Wally World, oblivious to the fact that every day demons emerged from the Hell’s Mouth, a place tucked safely beneath their chemically treated lawns.
But right now, I needed to focus. Looking around the circle, it consisted of Pivane, Nemesio, Cailean, Keir, and myself—the five of us focusing on the demon, helping it enter the world.
Nemesio was a vixen. Her black hair was always slicked back and kept short at the jaw line. Her piercing blue eyes had destroyed more than one male. The muscular cuts in her body were usually only seen between the pages of Maxim.
Cailean was just as bad. She was only five foot but her body was definitely made for sin. Her double-D chest, which was always clad in leather, crumpled men left and right.
Keir was the scariest. I had yet to figure out why.
Focus! Noon retrievals were supposed to be the easiest. This shouldn’t be an issue. Keir’s body jerked and fell forward. Shit.
I looked at Keir passed out on the floor and groaned. My hands pressed against the cracked foundation of the basement as I began to lumber up the unfinished wooden stairs in disgust. Shoving open the door, I wandered down the taupe-colored hall.
How the hell had the Frozen pulled this shit off? It was bad enough they'd gotten the last three midnight risers, but to get a noon one? I knew I was going to be paying for this one.
Crossing into the kitchen, I looked for something, anything that could serve as food. Ramen. Fuck. One of these days I was going to get a thick, juicy steak. I missed those.
My punishment could have been worse. Being caught in bed with a member of the royal family hadn’t been the best way to get ahead. Luckily I was saved, if being stuck in the formulaic kitchen of another suburban home in this shithole town could be called salvation. But I was going to have to answer for the latest losses.
A light glowed from the white microwave and inside, a Styrofoam cup spun slowly. The humming from the molecules being bombarded allowed me to zone out. It was as if my brain was rotating in the small box.
“Is there another?” Pivane asked as he came into the kitchen.
“Did you call them back in?”
“Done. Zuma saw the Dark One cut off the head.”
“What?”
“The back road off 34. Zuma almost had the bantling when the Dark One killed him.”
“Why the hell didn’t she attack?” I raged.
“A normal was on the road. The Big Female shot her.”
A triple beep brought me back from my anger.
Yanking the door for the microwave almost completely off, I gulped the salty juice. I hated my dependence on the overly MSGed mixture. Being on earth was turning me into a damn diabetic but instead of sugar, it was salt. With each failure, I felt a loss to my body strong enough to make my head spin in weakness, something I couldn’t display to the jackasses with me in the house. They'd turn on me in a second. I guess that’s the price one paid to be in charge.
I stormed off to my office only to find Nemesio. Pushing past her, I fell into my faux leather chair, the poly-blend fabric crackling as I sat. I was much too much of a man to be sitting in such a small chair.
“Tell me Yahweh, how can I service you today?” Nemesio slithered while her hands slid down my chest as I sat back in my chair. “It's been so long. Have you forgotten how I’ve helped you in the past?”
“Yes,” I said, not wanting to remember the alcohol induced error.
“You appear to be in a precarious position. I see frustration has you weakened. Yahweh, I’d hate to have another in your place. May I ease you?”
“Nemesio, take out your needs on another in the house or destroy a normal’s love, but leave me to my work.”
I examined the map in front of me. The repeated use of the same holes had to be the problem. All the Frozen had to do was keep watching those places. Did the Prince not know he was the cause of all this carnage and not me? It wouldn’t matter; I'd be the one to blame. My brain was becoming mush and the streets on the map started to cross each other as my vision doubled. Throwing my head back, I brought my hands to my eyes, hoping to rub away the film that seemed to be growing over them.
It hadn’t always been this way. Only a few years ago we’d averaged eight to ten bantlings per week. They’d been easier to locate too.
Nemesio straddled me. I opened my eyes only to see her piercing blue eyes staring back at me, melting my reserve to tell her to fuck off. She was evil. Her body oozed sex, but her mind…her mind was a minefield.
“If I didn’t know you better, I’d assume you were trying to take my position.”
“I’ll take whatever position you want,” her tongue licked my ear and continued up to my horns. For the proper angle, she stood up, which caused her perfect rack to land on my lips. She sucked the small horns on my head and they grew.
“You want to know what position I want you in?”
“Yes,” she purred.
“The-get-the-fuck-out-of-my-office-position.”
She pulled back and looked at me. Her hand slid down my face.
“I thought you preferred the bent-over-your-desk-your-dick-in-my-ass position,” she growled with a desire that made me want to wretch at the thought of any sexual congress involving her hollow body.
“You suck your brother with that mouth?” I snipped.
“That depends. Who’s your mother?”
“Get out!” I ordered, shoving her back.
Falling back, she caught my waistband and tugged. My cock popped up like a damn Jack-in-the-box.
“Hmm…looks like you need a release. I could just…” dropping to her knees her lips came close, but I lifted her back up.
She turned herself around and straddled me once again. This time she bent over and hiked up her skirt, which could only be described as a belt for her thong. As she shoved her perfect ass in my face I knew there was only so much more I could take. Forty-nine years and only one slip…no, the Princess could never forgive me.
“Are you sure?” she teased, wagging herself in front of me.
That’s it. I slammed her down hard against the desk, my hand firmly locked between her shoulder blades. Her back crackled under the pressure.
“You want to fuck me in the mood I’m in?” I pushed harder on her back to get my point across. “You sure about that? Pain is the only feeling you’ll receive.”
“My pain is your pleasure, Yahweh,” she said, her voice ragged as it tried to escape her lungs.
“Who sent you?”
“Your scent drew me to your office. Your body excites me. Let me…” she gasped for air, then with a flick of her wrist locked the door from across the room. “Pleasure you. My body was put here for you.”
As a damn temptation. Fuck you, Lucifer the Fifth…I will not…my cock strained in the air, the head mighty with a drip of cum. It begged for a release. Released into what? Nemesio’s…I looked down and only saw her openings warm and wet.
Closing my eyes I slammed myself hard into her core, the source of all evil in my world. My hand moved to her head, forcing it into the wood of the desk. I didn’t want to hear another word come from those venomous lips. The soft flesh between her legs tensed, grabbing hold of me. It was always open and warm, but today it was as if it wanted me, needed me, inside.
“If you speak one word during this, I'll kill you.”
Her ass was like an apple, round and hard, just the way I liked it. Any of the Deumos, Nemesio's kind, were tens on the human scale. Any human would want his dick wrapped by one like Nemesio. Her kind really knew how to suck and pull on a cock.
I grabbed her hips and pounded harder, my eyes trained ahead on the door. I focused on the Princess. Trying to envision her underneath me. Fuck that. I wanted this to be painful. I'd already had a shitty morning. If I thought of the Princess, I’d ease up the assault of Nemesio’s body.
The Prince. That was enough to make me pound her. My fingers dug into her skin. Yeah. Fucking him in the ass would make me feel better. That cocksucker deserved it. Sticking me in this stink hole just because his sister liked the taste of my cum. Not. My. Fault.
A tail was starting to emerge from Nemesio, a sign she was actually enjoying this. I didn’t want that. Pounding harder, I arched my back and let out a roar as her tail whipped behind me and the barbed end pierced the skin on the back of my neck. To demon men, it was a sign of conquest, but to me it was a brand of dishonor. Sexually gratifying Nemesio wasn’t high on my priority list.
Now Nemesio was moaning.
“I said be quiet!”
I rammed myself into her harder and the desk almost moved to the wall from the force. Looking down, there were deep scratch marks on the desk from where her fingernails had turned into claws.
Three hard slams, two more barbs from Nemesio’s tail and the desk hit the door as I finished. I pulsed in her, my hands pulling her hips as close to me as I could get. Still stuck deep inside her, she rocked her pelvis causing a shiver to run along my spine. She was right. I did need what she offered. I could actually feel strength sweep over my muscles. The film was removed from my eyes and I could focus again. If it's true that a man’s brain is in his dick, I'd just cleared my mind.
I pulled out to see bruising on her ass and hips.
“Clean yourself up and get the fuck out!” I pushed her to the floor as she cowered into a ball. “What? I warned you. Next time, it will be in the ass so think before you open that door.”
I pushed my desk back in place as she started to stand. Her gait, like a newborn colt, was sloppy and falling. I hated to see her go out like that. She wouldn’t make it till morning if others smelled her weakened.
“Wait. I may need to wet your lips with my cum. Sit on the couch until I demand it.”
She cowered to the edge of the couch and sat there, still shocked. Yes, we'd played tit-for-tat before. A few claw marks were the worst of it. She was jockeying to be by my side. A helper wasn’t what I needed, especially one whose only use was a hole to release my frustration in, but then again…
A helper. If I trained the bantlings that were about to go out into the world to help with the emersions, maybe I could reduce the numbers that were dying.
I looked at the map with last month’s risings. I still had two hundred thirty seven days until the closing of this shit hole. That meant I had over four hundred demons I'd be accountable for. Four hundred chances to fuck up and receive a visit from his-royal-pain-in-my-ass. I could feel another headache coming on.
* * * *
Kiriana
The landmarks were flying by me. Each car we passed, I prayed for someone to be looking so I could try to show them I was in danger. Maybe they could call in the plate before I got too far away, but no one even glanced in my direction. I wondered if this was how all those women felt when they were with my dad.
The large, black man driving the truck had striking features. If fear wasn't my main emotion, I'd still be staring at him. The line of his jaw and the way his muscles were flexed, poised for action, were mesmerizing. He had to be at least six-six and his skin was almost obsidian it was so black.
When his head turned so he could jump in and out of traffic, the large muscles in his neck and back flexed then released. And his voice had a simple tone to it. Although it was deep, the way his dialect rolled off his tongue made me think he wasn’t from some hard motorcycle gang, but instead, a simple, pastoral life. Then again, I doubted there was a real street gang within four hours of here. Chicago and St. Louis, sure, but the Quad Cities, nah. Whatever the hell that girl and he were, I couldn’t imagine Mt. Pleasant was fraught with gang violence…then again I doubted it had much violence at all.
My body slammed up against the passenger door as he turned a hard left into what I could only assume was his barn. I saw a flash of a trailer set up outside, mint green and white swirling in my mind. It was little more than a rusty metal building.
Calculating which was greater, the pain in my leg versus the approximate distance back to civilization, I knew I only had a few seconds to decide what to do.
As soon as the truck shifted into park, I reached for the door handle and jumped out, only to realize the cold in my leg was more than numbing. It rendered me completely useless. I crumpled to the ground and screamed out in pain. My leg felt as if a hot poker was stuck in my femur causing a burning to tear through my skin, and the bone felt shattered with the pieces trying to splinter their way through my flesh. Through my held-back tears I looked up and saw him towering over me. Even if I somehow got out of this, what the hell was I going to do without a leg?
“If you wanna die, town is that way, ‘k? If you want to live, you’re gonna have to come with me.”
The pain in my leg caused me to tear up, bite my lip, close my eyes, and nod yes.
Leaning down, the large man scooped me up like a fallen animal. He was gentle, trying to maneuver so my leg wouldn't have to move too much, but he was quick in his execution. He walked to the back of the barn and as he reached his hand out to a wood board, I heard what sounded like a copy machine or scanner, then a click. The back barn doors slid open to show a huge entryway, as if the barn was just a large foyer. The cherry wood floor had an accent pattern with a lighter wood creating a box design. Blond wood interchanged with the reddish cherry, each forming a smaller and smaller square. To the left was a staircase with paintings of the man that was carrying me, the woman with the arrow, and a dozen other people in different states of repose. In his portrait, he was dressed as a gentleman from the eighteen hundreds sitting on a porch.
A loud bang came from behind us and I peered around his bicep to see the woman, the one I thought he called Dee, coming through the door, her face full of rage.
“You’re cleaning my fuckin’ truck, Nye. And I swear to God if there's one dent from a rock, I’m killin’ you myself.”
I detected an eastern European accent.
“D, language,” he barked. “Get the arrivals chamber set up. The less she sees of us the better. I’ll meet you in the healing allowance.”
“You’re responsible. I’m not. Do it yourself. Listen, just let her die. No offense. She’s dying anyway.”
Nye looked at me and I was stunned. How did this random woman know my status?
“You’re a bitch.”
“Nye, language,” she mocked, then crossed her arms. “I’m a realist. You know the implications if Gabriel finds out.”
Dee stormed off. I felt a low growl come from the warm chest holding me tight. Nye’s jaw clenched and a feeling of foreboding came over me. It was almost as if his skin was turning to ice starting from his heart. The clean, fresh smell that came off him disappeared as the cold crept in.
Nye walked me into a room with carvings along the crown molding. The angels circling the room reminded me of when I'd go to church with my mother. In the center was a table with a large, gray marble slab for a top. Along the walls were shelves with books, jars of miscellaneous items I couldn’t identify, and shiny objects that appeared to be surgical in nature.
He set me on the table and I finally looked at my right leg which now had black streaks below my knee. I had no idea when the shaking started, but I was trying my best to get it to stop.
Nye removed a strange knife from a sheath on his chest and placed it on the counter. I'd never seen anything like it. The knife was about seven inches long and had six sides to the blade that came to a point. The knife would make a star-like pattern if it was inserted and removed.
The handle appeared to be made of crystal, laced with deep etches and a small, glowing object bounced around inside the handle. Unfortunately, it was just outside my reach and I was sure Nye was aware of where it was at all times anyway.
“Nye? That’s your name?”
The man nodded as the glowing object seemed to press against the crystal. If I hadn’t known better, I would have said it was looking at me. All of the sudden it bounced to the opposite side and back and the knife moved a little causing Nye’s right hand to immediately wrap around the handle. His whole body seemed to freeze in place as his head rose and he stared straight ahead. He seemed scared.
Only one woman had ever survived my father. I struggled to remember how she said she gained his trust.
“I’m Kiriana. KK. KK because of my last name…”
“Stop,” Nye placed the knife in front of him, blocking it from my view. “I told you I won’t hurt you. I know you’re human. I know you’re scared and I know you think if you connect with me in some way, I won’t kill you. Kiri, I won’t hurt you. Right now I need to focus.”
Nye started pulling down jars from the shelf to his right. He was flipping through the yellowed pages of a large book as if he were searching for something. His index finger traced fluidly down the page.
“It’s just…”
“Focus,” he barked, then turned to me. “No, let’s do it your way. Keep talkin’, I’ll get some tea and biscuits. I’ll know all about you. Well, what you can tell me before you start screaming in pain. See those streaks? They’re just the beginning. I give it an hour before it spreads farther. You know what happens when it hits the middle of your chest?”
I shook my head no, too afraid to speak.
“First, you’ll feel like you’re breathing through a pillow, then your heart will start to burn and cramp. You know what most people call it when your heart cramps?”
“Heart attack.”
“Yep. Now, I don’t keep the antidote on hand because, well, normal people don’t usually get in our way. I can make it, but you know how medicine has the power to kill as well as heal?”
I nodded. His condescending tone was getting on my nerves. Since I’d probably die if he didn’t save me, I bit my tongue that wanted to snap at him.
“It’s a thin line with normal medicine. With this, you need an electron microscope to see the line. Ya got me? I swear I’m not trying to kill you, but I need silence.”
His voice was strained but not with annoyance.
“Can we have tea after I’ve healed?” I eked.
His head cocked to the side and I swore the left side of his lip curled up. He turned back around and started measuring powders. He needed to put on his shirt if I was ever going to focus and be on guard.
With his back turned to me, I noticed large welts, as if he'd been beaten. The obsidian skin was somehow darker over these scars that crisscrossed his back. The longest was from his right shoulder all the way to his left hip.
Nye walked to a wall and depressed a panel and as the wall rose, I had to cover my eyes from the intense light. Heat lamps were hanging over a dozen terrariums containing a myriad of snakes. The low hissing sent a chill down my spine as Nye reached his hand in to take out a red snake with golden rings on its skin.
My hands gripped hard to the marble slab as I tried to pull myself back, only to feel the edge of the tabletop and remembered I couldn’t walk.
Holding the snake over a small jar, Nye pierced a rubber skin lid with the snake’s fangs and white liquid dripped into the vessel. When Nye removed the snake’s fangs, he looked it in the eyes and whispered.
“Dankie vir jou diens en mag jou lewe vir ewig geseënd wees.”
He gently placed the serpent back into its cage and returned to the table. Nye poured the milk into a mortar, added some plant leaves and seeds, and used a pestle to crush it all together.
I was mesmerized by the way he moved, the focus and care he was taking. I was in pain, but fear was stopping my brain from registering it. I looked at my leg and touched it lightly with my index finger. The cold coming off my thigh was like nothing I'd ever felt.
“Stop,” Nye snapped. “Just lay still. How is your pain?”
I was afraid to respond.
“Do you want a pain killer?”
“I…I-I…don’t know what…What's happening?”
“The less you know the better.”
“Why? If you tell me, will you have to kill me?”
“Not in this case. Um…yeah, I shouldn’t have to.”
Nye tore at the vacusealed wrapping of a syringe and snapped off the plastic tip and placed a needle on the end and drew up the thick, orange liquid carefully into the syringe before his finger flicked the syringe lightly to get the bubbles to the end so he could push excess air out of the solution through the needle.
I suddenly felt a stabbing pain on my right side. I curled into it and screamed. Nye yanked up my shirt. The black streaks were creeping up the side of my body.
“What’s happening?” I screamed, shaking as I lost control of my body. Nye pushed me down and tried to hold me still.
“Damn it,” Nye said. “I’m sorry about this.”
With lightning-fast hands, he stabbed the syringe into my stomach. The pain was worse than anything I had ever known. The mixture burned like a hot poker going through my stomach, straight to my back.
* * * *
Nye
I'd never been so scared in my life. I didn’t know why I wanted to protect this woman, but something primordial was causing a desire to save her no matter the cost. Stabbing her in the stomach was the last thing I wanted to do, but I knew the poison had to be stopped. Luckily we had another snake that could give me another dose to apply directly to the wound, but the poison had ripped through this woman’s system as if she had nothing to stop it.
The screams from her pouty lips tore through me like she was using a machete. I could feel myself wanting to take her place. My stomach pulled in on itself in disgust. Maybe D was right. I should have let her die on the side of the road. The poison would have coursed through her blood quickly and ended her suffering in less than an hour.
“Oh my God!” Kiri screamed and I watched as her back arched and her abdomen jutted in the air as the back of her head smashed into the marble. The shrieking was more than I could bear. My need to take away her pain and take it on myself had me seconds from calling on Gabriel for help. She’d live and I’d be…oh hell no, I could save her myself. Save her and get her out of here as quickly as possible.
“It will pass soon.” My hand went under her back so I could catch her as her body fell back. “I have to give you another shot. I’m sorry.”
“Fuck you,” she spat at me.
Her body twisted and turned. The pain had to be immense. She clawed and grabbed hard at my chin.
“What did you do?” she cried.
“I’m sorry, Kiri. I’m so sorry.”
What else could I say? Her breath caught then her eyes rolled back.
“Stay with me, Kiri. Please don’t go.”
The thought she wouldn't be in the world seemed like a loss I couldn't live with. White foam came out of the side of her mouth.
“Kiri. Kiri,” I yelped, but her body went limp in my arms. “No. Come on, Kiri. Don’t die. Please don’t die.” My finger went to her throat. Her pulse was weak.