Chapter 9
9
Walki n g o n Eggs h ells
R oughly five thousand kilometers away, in a beautiful oceanfront house nestled between old-growth cedars, Jacqueline Gregory stretched her feet out on the sofa and watched her shirtless husband trudge past her to the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
She smiled to herself. She was a lucky woman. Twenty--seven years of marriage and she still found her partner sexy. And how could she not? Dan was a handsome man who kept himself in peak physical condition. And besides his sweet tooth, he’d always been a health nut, which meant he’d aged remarkably well. So well, in fact, that she sometimes wondered if he’d aged at all.
“What did Eva want?” he asked, pouring coffee into a mug.
Jacqui took a sip of her own coffee and looked out the tall A-frame window. She never got tired of the view. The cedar branches and fern leaves textured the foreground while the gray ocean tossed in the distance. Mossy rocks covered the beachfront. It was raining today, but then, this was the West Coast. It was always raining.
“She met a guy,” Jacqui said.
Dan peeked around the corner of the pantry. “She what?”
She chuckled. This was why Eva had called her mom for advice, not her dad. “She needed some womanly advice.”
“I hope you told her to send him packing.”
“I didn’t! I told her to be strong, set healthy boundaries, and drill him with questions about his past.”
Dan ducked back around the pantry, and she heard the sound of him scooping copious amounts of sugar into his coffee. She made a face. How he could stomach that waste-of-perfectly-good-coffee swill would forever be a mystery to her. She liked hers black and strong.
“Who is this guy?” Dan grumbled, diligently stirring, the spoon clinking against the mug. “What’s his number? I’ll give him a call and drill him with questions myself.”
“That’s not happening. Eva is a grown woman.” Twenty--seven years old she was now, but of course, Dan would see her as his baby forever.
Jacqui had only been twenty when she’d given birth to Eva, and though it had been one of the most stressful periods of her life, she gave thanks every day for her family and was grateful things had turned out the way they had. She’d gotten a loving husband and an amazing daughter out of it, and she’d somehow still managed to make it as an artist.
“I trust her judgment and know she can make good decisions about who she spends time with. She seems really into this guy, and she’s smart enough to decide for herself if he’s good for her.”
Dan sighed, coming around the kitchen with his mug of swill in hand. “I just worry about her and how far away she is. I miss her.”
“I know, hon. I miss her too.”
He smiled as he sank onto the sofa next to her. “She’s passionate, our girl. She had to go off and chase her dreams.”
Leaning against the arm of the sofa, Jacqui lifted her legs and put her feet in her husband’s lap. He curled his free hand around her ankle, and they sat with the ease of a couple who’d been together for years.
“He’s a musician,” she told her husband, smiling.
Dan grunted, unimpressed.
“She said he was an amazing pianist.”
He grunted again. “He could be Mozart reincarnated, and he wouldn’t be good enough for her.”
Jacqui laughed. “He could be a real live heavenly angel and you’d say he wasn’t good enough for her.”
“That’s true,” Dan replied in all seriousness.
She laughed again. “You’re such a caveman.”
He grinned, setting his coffee on the table beside him. “Then you’re my cavewoman.” She knew that look in his eye and quickly set her coffee down too, just in time for him to pounce. He loomed over her, still grinning, pinning her into the sofa and looking far too pleased with himself. She rolled her eyes at him but couldn’t fight her smile.
“Make me a fire while I go out to catch something for us to eat,” her Neanderthal grunted.
Jacqui’s eyes lit up as sudden inspiration struck. “We should do a series themed on modern relationship parallels to primitive ones! Oh, that’s good! We could have scenes of a present-day couple alongside our cave couple and draw comparisons between their expected societal roles.” She seized his strong shoulders in a tight grip and pretended to shake him, not that she could. “I’m a genius!”
Dan grinned. “It’s a great idea, hon.” He climbed off her and leaned back into the cushions. “Draw out some sketches and we can talk more about it later. I’ve got to work on that damned vulture. The head fell off again. I’m this close to scrapping the whole thing.”
“Oh no.” But she laughed. That silly scrap-metal statue had become Dan’s nemesis of late.
Jacqui thought of her conversation with Eva again and wondered how best to go about asking what needed to be asked. She loved her husband, but he was a bit overprotective at times, and she didn’t want Eva to feel stifled. She decided to pick and choose what to tell Dan about her daughter’s interesting challenges of late.
“Have you done any of your occult stuff lately?” she asked, taking a sip of coffee to hide the spark of interest she knew flared in her eyes.
“Not really. I was working on that project about witchcraft in the Middle Ages, but it’s so depressing that I started to wonder why I was bothering.”
“I thought we were going to make a piece about it. Correlations to modern feminism and all that.”
“We are. But like I said, it’s depressing.”
“Do you ever...” She sipped her coffee again. “Have you ever studied demonology?”
“Sure, why?”
“I heard these four demon names recently, and I thought they were interesting. I wondered what the background was on them, since I was considering using them in my writing.”
While visual art was her true passion, she had a bit of a side gig as a fantasy writer. She hated lying to her husband about why she wanted to know about the names, but she wanted to give Eva time to figure things out for herself before she got Dan involved.
“What names?” Dan asked, sipping his sugary coffee. His other arm was flung out along the back of the sofa, and she took a moment to admire him.
While Dan had no living family, Jacqui’s was extensive, and her parents were very old-fashioned. She still remembered the looks on their faces when she’d brought home her blond-haired, silver-eyed husband-to-be for the first time. To this day, she shuddered to think what would’ve happened if they’d found out she was already pregnant. But they’d grown to love Dan, especially after Eva was born. Who wouldn’t love a man who gave them such a perfect granddaughter?
She tried to remember the names Eva had told her. “Asmo--something.”
“Asmodeus?” Dan snorted.
“Yeah, that’s it. What’s funny?”
“I’m just surprised that you haven’t heard that name before. Asmodeus is legendary. There’s a royal ranking system for demons called the Order of Thrones, and Asmodeus is a Prince of Hell. That means he’s of the second-highest level and one of the most powerful demons in the underworld. I think he was a King at some point, but I’m not certain. He was once the most renowned lust demon of all time, but in recent times, he’s faded into obscurity.”
“Really?” Interesting. It lent credibility to the hallucination theory. The odds of a legendary, powerful demon being interested in jamming with Eva seemed slim.
“And what were the others?” Dan asked.
“Belial?”
Dan nearly spit out his coffee.
“What?”
“Belial isn’t just a demon, hon. He’s, like, the demon. It’s basically another name for Satan.”
“So not a minor legend, then.”
“No. He’s a King of Hell, and one of the original angels that fell from Heaven at the start of creation. It’s said that the only other who rivals his power is Lucifer himself.”
“What about Mephis— Meph—”
“Mephistopheles?”
“Yeah, that.”
“He’s a famous one as well, though he’s more elusive, since he’s not mentioned in most grimoires, and he doesn’t have a rank in the Order. He’s originally known from the Faust legend, which is one of the original tales about a man who makes a deal with the devil.”
“Interesting. And what about Raum?”
“Also powerful. An Earl of Hell, I believe, who can take the form of a crow.” Dan looked at her. “When did you get it in your head to study demonology?”
She shrugged. “I just thought they had cool names.”
“I suppose so. But all four of them are very well known. Unless you want to write about demons, I’d suggest picking something different or you’re going to have to explain the correlation.” He eyed her sidelong. “Where’d you come up with those four in particular?”
“Oh, I must have read them somewhere. I’m not sure.”
She winced, hating lying to him. But she was more convinced than ever that Eva had suffered from a stress-induced hallucination. She would have been more suspicious if Dan had told her those four names were random, little-known demons, or if he’d never heard of them at all. The idea that four legendary demons had teamed up and gone to a nightclub was pushing it.
Likely, they just had very strange parents who had picked awful names for their sons—which wasn’t a big stretch of the imagination considering Asmodeus had told Eva he was raised by his brother. She decided there was no point in worrying Dan about it for now.
She also decided that if her daughter was suffering from stress-induced hallucinations, it might be a good idea to get her some help. She would talk to Eva some more and see if she couldn’t convince her to at least speak to a therapist.
Dan stood suddenly, draining the rest of his mug. “Any more questions for me, babe?”
“Nope, that’s it for now. Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Normally their rainy day activities included at least an hour of cuddling and coffee drinking before they did anything productive. It was one of her favorite parts about being self-employed—making time to be with her family.
Dan was already in the kitchen, topping up his blasphemous sugary coffee. “I’m going out to the studio to try and conquer that damned vulture once and for all.”
When they had first bought the property, they’d converted the old barn next to the house into a workshop. The main room was shared for collaborative projects, and they each had a personal, closed office as well. They had an unwritten rule never to disturb each other’s private spaces, which Jacqui appreciated for those times she needed a little solitude.
“I’ll make breakfast and bring you some.”
“You’re an angel.”
“Love you!” she called out as the door shut.
She chuckled, sipping her coffee. He’d sure taken off fast. He hadn’t even taken the time to grab a shirt, and she’d bet her house he’d gone out in bare feet. Luckily, she knew he had a few sweaters discarded around the studio to wear if he got cold.
Dan had been putting off that silly vulture sculpture for weeks and now suddenly he was all fired up about finishing it. She smiled fondly and shook her head. Her husband was a bit of an enigma at times, but she loved him all the more for it.
Ash flung open the door to their shitty apartment, bracing himself for a confrontation. When he’d hung up the phone, Belial had been lost to a full-blown rage attack. If one was concerned about the preservation of one’s life, Bel in a fit of temper was not something one should stick around to see.
So of course, Ash had left Eva’s house with all due haste to rush home for the show.
But it wasn’t like he had a choice. He hadn’t been kidding when he told Raum and Meph to keep Bel from burning the building down. Because he would.
Except, when he stepped inside, he found Bel in the kitchen with his apron on, cooking. Behind him, Meph was sitting at the table, still wearing his workout gear. It was a harmless scene, and yet the tension in the air was so tangible, it crackled like electricity.
Belial looked up. “Asmodeus. Pleased you could join us.” His voice was flat. Calm.
Ash blinked. This was not what he’d expected. “What—?”
Meph caught his eye and shook his head rapidly.
Ash looked back at Bel and studied him closer, and then he saw it. Bel was calm, all right. Too calm.
Damn. This was almost worse than if he’d been fully raging. This eerie eye-of-the-storm calm was liable to blow at the drop of a hat, and when it did, it would be scary. Humans would not survive it.
Ash caught Meph’s eye again and nodded to indicate he got the message. He looked around. “Where’s Ra—”
Meph shook his head frantically again.
Bel turned, lowering the spoon. “I don’t know, Asmodeus.” His tone could freeze an active volcano. “Where is our brother Raum?”
Meph winced in the background.
“I don’t know.” Perhaps a subject change was in order. “So, uh... whatcha cooking?” Ash propped a hip up against the kitchen counter and tried to act cool.
“Risotto.”
“Looks good.”
Bel’s hand clenched around the wooden spoon he held. His nostrils flared like an angry bull about to charge. “It will be good. Everything I cook is delicious because I’m a fucking fantastic chef, and if you don’t agree with that you can get the fuck out of my kitchen before I gut you with this spoon.”
Ash held up his hands. “Nope, no arguments here.”
Damn it, he had no clue what had set Belial off and, thus, no idea how to fix it. He decided his best course of action was to retreat and try again later.
“I’m going to go take a shower.” He spoke like he was talking to a feral animal—slowly and clearly. “I’ll be in the bathroom. Not going anywhere else.”
Bel’s clenched jaw flexed and a vein in his temple bulged, but he said nothing, so Ash slowly backed away, one step at a time. He caught Meph’s eye and jerked his chin toward the bathroom.
Once there, he turned on the shower at full blast. He only had to wait a minute for Meph to slip in behind him and shut the door.
“What the fuck is going on?” Ash hissed, careful to speak quietly so the sound of the running water disguised their voices from Belial.
“He’s fucking livid, man.” Meph shook his head. “I had to dump a full bucket of water on him after you called, and let me tell you, he was not happy about it. He didn’t ignite again after that, but he’s a powder keg about to blow.”
“Why? What set him off?”
Meph dragged his hands through his hair. Of all his brothers, Meph was the only one who would pass for Ash’s blood relation if they defined the word “brother” by human terms. Though he kept his hair short, it was the same midnight color, and their skin was roughly the same shade as well. Except on Meph, that skin was so completely covered in tattoos, it might as well have been solid black. He was bulkier in muscle mass than Asmodeus, but shorter in height. They were demons—they were all naturally attractive and fit—but both Meph and Raum were obsessed with working out.
“It’s the Hunter,” Meph said. “He’s onto us.”
“I don’t believe that. There’s no way they’d send him yet.”
“Well, you’d better learn to believe it fast because it’s true. Bel got word from one of his Hell groupies.”
Though Belial had never given any indication he wanted to rule Hell, he’d never lost the support of a bunch of whack-jobs that worshiped the ground he walked on and wanted him to take down Lucifer—the last thing Belial wanted to do.
Bel’s days as a purely depraved, violently evil bastard were long over, and these days, he was as confused about who he was as Ash was. As all of them were. It was why they’d decided to escape.
“Shit.” Ash dragged a hand down his face. “What did they say?”
“I don’t know.” Meph leaned against the door and crossed his arms, T-shirt straining at the seams around his shoulders. “Bel went homicidal right after he got the message, and I wasn’t going to try talking to him like that. I was too busy disabling the fucking smoke alarms, dumping buckets of water all over the fucking house, and cleaning them up afterward like a fucking maid. Fuck.”
“What a mess,” Ash agreed.
Meph grinned suddenly. “You smell like sex.”
Ash remembered a time when his nose had been sensitive enough to pick up such subtle odors. Ah, the joys of being a demon with properly functioning senses. “Yeah, well, I had a lot of it, so it makes sense.”
He couldn’t help it. He grinned back.
The meathead punched him in the arm. Hard. “About time, bro.”
Ash rolled his eyes. “Yeah.”
“You deserve it. Who gives a fuck what the female thinks after.”
He realized that unless Bel had told him, Meph didn’t know that Eva could see through his curse. He opened his mouth to tell him but shut it again. Strangely, he didn’t feel like talking about Eva with anyone. He figured it was probably because it had been so long since he’d had enjoyable sex, he wanted to avoid the inevitable cross-examination he was going to get when he told his brothers about it.
Meph was still grinning that lopsided smile. “I never understood why you don’t just blindfold them. Or do them from behind. No face, just ass. Problem solved.”
Ash mentally reaffirmed his decision not to talk about Eva. “Maybe I have higher standards than you. Now get out of here because I actually want to shower before all the hot water’s gone.”
“What are we going to do about the Hunter?”
“I don’t know, but we can start by getting Raum back here.”
“I’ll call him again. He slunk out somewhere last night and probably got lucky so he’s taking his time coming back. Like someone else I know, hey, champ?” Meph punched his shoulder again. “How’s it feel to do the walk of shame?”
“It feels like I want to shower without my annoying brother in the room with me.”
“Spoilsport.”
“Get out of here and find Raum.”
“What do we do if Bel loses it again?”
“Same thing as before. Throw water on him. Walk on eggshells.”
“I get seriously sick of his shit sometimes.”
“At least we’re not in Hell. It could be so much worse.”
They exchanged knowing looks, remembering how bad Belial’s rage attacks could get when his powers weren’t dampened as they were on Earth.
“Ain’t that the truth,” Meph said.