Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
DEUS
“You’re my kind of guy, Momo. Every week, I eagerly wait for Sundays and Wednesdays, since I know those are the days I’ll get to see you,” she says. “I used to look forward to the day I would get away from here, but I don’t think that’s going to happen, do you?”
“No.”
Again, here I am speaking to her. Here I am, engaging with her. I know better. I’ve been trained better. So why is it that when I see her, I forget all of that?
“Never?” she asks. There’s pain in her voice. I can hear it; I just can’t do anything about it.
“No.”
“Why?”
Isn’t that the very question? But I’m not allowed to think about the “whys,” I’m only to do what I’m told. “Because that is what the elders say.”
“What did they do to you to make you like this?” she asks.
“How old are you? Twenty-five, maybe? Have you ever been hugged? Have you ever been told that you are loved? Do you know what a hand feels like when there is kindness? The others are husks. Their personalities have been beaten out of them, but there’s something inside of you.
Something that’s still fighting.” She reaches out and cups my face. “I know it. You know it.”
I jerk back from her and grab her throat in my hand. “Do not try to trick me with your lies.”
She watches me closely, her blue eyes bright in the darkness of this room. She leans her cheek into my hand. “When we both get out of here, I want to show you my favorite spot. It’s such a lovely spot. So lovely. But I’m never going to see it, am I, Mo? Because of you, I’m never going to see it.”
Her head is cold in my hand, her flesh gray. There are holes where her eyes once were, and even though she can no longer look up at me, her mouth is smiling.
“Because you took it all, didn’t you, Mo?”
“No, I didn’t. I wasn’t the one who took it from you.”
“Then why do you keep staring at me with those eyes?”
I jerk back, scaring Pocket Lint whose tail poofs out while she jumps.
“What’s wrong?”
Startled, I look over at Ellison as I realize that I must have fallen asleep on the couch. How could I just fall asleep like that?
“What happened?” Ellison asks.
I look up at him. “What happened is that I have failed my forefathers and slumbered on the job.”
“Do you ever sleep?”
“I shall slumber when I’m dead.”
“You were upset about something.”
“Yes… I was… I was upset that I forgot to brush my hair before this quadruple date. It inflicted great horror upon my soul.”
He grabs my head in a headlock and paws through my hair. “There, now it looks like it usually does—unkempt. Is your soul still suffering?”
I grin up at him, pleased by the petting I’ve just received. He seems to be horrified at the realization of what he’s done as he hurriedly extracts his hand.
“Asmodeus, are you going to answer anything I’ve asked honestly?”
“It’s not likely,” I admit, beaming at him. “You’ve been uneasy yourself. Where is your lucky doll?”
“I’m not stabbing a doll with pins. It solves nothing and causes more violence.”
“Every prick soothes the soul. Being pricked every now and then doesn’t soothe your soul? Or do you prefer to do the pricking?” I give him a wink, which results in him thumping my forehead.
“Don’t ask such foolish questions.”
I can’t stop smiling at him as his face turns red from anger. It really is such a good distraction. “Very delectable.”
“What the fuck is?”
“Your face.”
I get a shove for that.
“Get that rodent off my white couch.”
“She’s white, your couch is white. How’d you even see her? Camouflage at its finest.”
Ellison takes a pillow and tries scooting her off the couch with it. She latches on to it with her teeth, so when he picks up the pillow, she’s hanging from it. He glares at the scene before handing me the pillow.
“That thing is feral.”
“She reminds me of you,” I say.
I watch as he glowers at the ferret who is staring angrily back at him. “There is absolutely nothing about that ferret that is even remotely comparable to me.”
“The demons agree with me.”
He scoffs. “Are you wearing that?”
I look down at my jeans and t-shirt. “I’m sorry, is this not fancy enough for a dinner in a prison with a man who thinks cheese is his lord and savior?
Are you wearing a suit? I suppose I do feel underdressed.
You look like you’re heading to a wedding or a funeral…
oh no… is this the end? Will my demons pull me down into their bosoms? ”
Ellison tugs the edge of his suit jacket then heads off without me but returns with a button-up that he thrusts into my arms. I assume this means he wants me to put it on, so I change my shirt as he watches.
Once dressed, I stuff Pocket Lint the Third, Esquire into my sleeve and hurry after him. When I get into the car, I slide into the passenger seat and roll down the window just enough I can aim my gun through it while he drives.
“Who’s out there now?”
“No one, I was just thinking about how punchable the guy you just drove past looked. You ever do that? Like when you’re talking to someone, instead of listening, you think of all the ways you could defeat them.”
“No. I think that’s something a serial killer says.”
“HA. I wouldn’t kill them. Nah… just shut them up… eternally.”
“You’re really not proving your point.”
I run my finger along the top of the open window. “I was told that every person you meet, you should know the best way to end their life before you ever interact with them.”
Ellison is quiet for a moment. “So all of us? You’ve thought about how to kill all of us?”
“I have. Landon… I would toss his book off a cliff. He’d dive off after it in a second. August would dive off to save Landon. Two birds, one book.”
Ellison looks over at me. “I refuse to laugh.”
I smile at him. “You don’t need to. I know I’m hilarious.”
“What about me?”
“Simple. I burn all your suits and leave behind a Speedo. You’d perish on the spot.”
“I can live without my suits.”
“Yeah? Then go to dinner with just your button-up and vest. You look so stuffy and it’s always warm in that place. You’re going to swelter.”
“You leave your guns in the car, and I’ll leave my suit jacket in here to keep them company.”
“We better button that suit up tight,” I say as I reach over and button the top button which must have come undone when he entered the car. “Don’t want you getting cold, now.”
“Do you not see me driving here? Do you want me to wreck this car? Keep your hands on your side of the vehicle.”
“You’re so feisty… it’s sexy.”
“Don’t you have things to do, like think about how to become a serial killer?”
“It’s okay, I’ve just slapped the ‘assassin’ tag on myself so people think it’s cool. You ever wonder why media romanticizes assassins but draws the line at serial killers?”
“Serial killers generally kill innocent people. Why are we having this discussion?”
“So on a scale of sexy, where do I fall?”
“On a scale of stubborn humans who don’t know how to listen, you rank quite high.”
“I like to know that you’re thinking about me,” I say.
“Did I say any of that? I swear you turn my words around, refuse to listen, irritate me, and wear that damn grin on your face like you’re loving it.”
“I am loving it,” I say, grin widening. “Pocket Lint is also loving it. Give Papa a kiss.”
I hold Pocket Lint up to Ellison just as he’s pulling into the parking lot of the center that Nolan is housed in. Instead of the kiss that I really felt like Pocket Lint was going to deliver, she latches on to his earlobe.
“Dammit!” he yelps and because he’d been minorly preoccupied, he doesn’t see a car backing out and slams right into the rear of it. Pocket Lint, realizing the wrongs of her ways, lets go just as the airbag goes off and the seat belts lock in place.
Ellison punches the airbag out of his face before slowly looking over at me. As blood rolls down his nose and drips on his fancy suit, I quickly reach over and adjust his glasses that have gone askew before I turn invisible. I slide Pocket Lint under my shirt so she also can’t be seen.
“Asmodeus.”
“Asmodeus is gone. He has been taken down in a chariot led by hellhounds to the underground,” I whisper.
“Asmodeus.”
“Asmodeus isn’t here but if he was, he’d make sure you knew that it is the fault of the person who backed out when you pulled in.”
Thankfully, the other car wasn’t damaged and Ellison’s rolls into the parking spot just fine… if fine includes the rage he obviously feels.
“Will it make you feel better if your Fructose Daddy bought you a new car? I’ll have it delivered tomorrow.”
Ellison still hasn’t said anything other than my name, and when I get out of the car, I hurry around to face him, dropping the invisibility as he slowly gets out and glares at me.
I see blood has dripped onto his suit jacket, so I reach out and unbutton the jacket while he stares me in the eyes. It’s quite threatening and concerning.
“Your corneas would make a lesser man tremble,” I assure him as I slide the jacket off his shoulders. I even pull out the little pocket square to dab at his bloody nose before tossing both into the car. “Good as new! And I finally got you out of that stuffy jacket.”
He turns on his heel and stomps back to the trunk, which he pops, then unzips a perfectly pressed jacket out of its protective bag and begins sliding it on.
I scowl at it while I try to pull it from him. “Put it back. The angels smile upon you when you don’t have it on!”
Suddenly, he’s trying to cram the hanger on my head and uses it as a distraction to shove me into the trunk.
“This is what you would call a murder,” Landon comments as he walks up in time to witness my demise. “Didn’t I ask if you could murder him on a different day?”
“It is a different day,” August says.
“Oh, right. But I started a new book series, and I don’t want to waste time at a funeral, so like… maybe a different, different day.”
“Hello, my confidants. What ails you on this turning of the axis?” I ask while Ellison gets a good push in there.