Chapter 9 #2
Seymour skidded around a rack, stopping short when he saw Sariel standing over a suited monster who looked like a distant cousin of Bigfoot except he was bright orange with blue spots.
Sariel was a fearsome sight, gold light bursting out from every pore and his countless flaming eyes, and he stepped on Bigfoot’s neck. “Stay… down.”
Fuck, it was probably not normal to think that was hot.
Whatever.
“Sariel!” Seymour hurried up to join him, though he stayed at a distance he hoped was out of Bigfoot’s reach.
Sariel turned toward Seymour, his voice rumbling low as he said, “You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine!” Seymour shook his head. “You guys get the—”
Bigfoot’s tongue popped out of his mouth like a frog, wrapping around Seymour’s ankle.
“Fuckin’ hell!” Seymour hit the ground, kicking and swinging the dildo frantically as Bigfoot’s tongue pulled him in.
“Seymour!” Day cried out.
Crunch.
Sariel had twisted his foot, snapping Bigfoot’s neck. He swept Seymour off the floor and into his arms, his army of eyes fluttering away. “Are you all right?”
“Are you hurt?” Day mewled worriedly.
Seymour’s brain shut off because Sariel was very firm, very warm, and the mysterious things wiggling under Sariel’s skin weren’t so weird now. Maybe he was just getting used to it. He managed to nod, croaking, “Yeah, uh, I’m fine.”
“Your arm.” Sariel morphed back into his human self, but he still held Seymour close. “What happened?”
“Got blown through a wall or whatever.” Seymour shook his head. “Kinda hard to move it. Hurts like a bitch, but I’m okay.”
“Can you wiggle your fingers?” Day pouted. “Is there numbness or tingling?”
“I’m all right, kitty girl.” Seymour forced a smile. “Hey, how ’bout we go get that damn head and get the fuck outta here?” He glanced at the dead Bigfoot and grimaced. “Since I’m thinkin’ there ain’t anybody left alive to question?”
“That may be correct.” Sariel cradled Seymour against his chest, walking to another doorway. “I believe most have either been killed or fled.”
“Yeah, Pod Lou turned into a big batch of slime and oozed off. Like Hexus, but not sexy.”
Sariel and Day stared blankly.
“Okay, definitely watchin’ Fern Gully later.” Seymour coughed. “Anyway.”
“I suspect the creature may be a squonk, though I have never heard of one being able to change their appearance,” Sariel said, humming thoughtfully. “They could have gained such magic from another.”
“A squonk?”
“Yes.”
“You fuckin’ made that up.”
Sariel blinked. “I did not.”
“Really? Because it sounds made up.”
“Technically, all words are made up if you think about it.”
A few more doorways and another hallway brought them to another storage room packed full of boxes, statues, and an assortment of fancy paintings. In the middle of the clutter was a large wooden chest.
Day ran up to the chest. “This is it!”
“All right. Awesome!” Seymour patted Sariel. “You can put me down now.”
Sariel frowned, but he gently let go of Seymour. “We should move quickly.”
“Why? The monster police gonna show up?”
“No, but the owner of this establishment may not be pleased with the damage we caused.”
“Technically, it was the rebel assholes who did that.”
“I do not think Mr. Kalt will care.” Sariel picked up the chest and then tucked it under his arm. “We should leave now.”
Seymour reached for Day, herding her up on his shoulder. “Okay, back out the way we came?”
“No.” Sariel gently wrapped his free arm around Seymour, and his eyes glowed brightly. “Hold on, please.”
Seymour was immediately blinded by a bright light, and he squeezed his eyes shut. When the light faded, he slowly peeked to discover they were back at Sariel’s house. “Oh, here again, huh?”
“Yes.” Sariel set the chest on his kitchen counter before turning his attention to Seymour. “You are injured.”
“It’s fine!” Seymour groaned. “Look, we gotta get that thing back to the twins, yeah?”
“After I have seen to your injury.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Day hopped down, peering around the house. “Is this your home?”
“Yes. Please make yourself comfortable while I tend to Seymour.” Sariel nodded as he urged Seymour into a bedroom.
It was furnished much like the rest of the house, with gray linens for the bed, an equally drab rug, and plain curtains. The bathroom was white on white with a big tub, a standing shower, and two sinks. The only hint of personality here was a ceramic toothbrush holder covered in constellations.
There were no toothbrushes though.
Maybe angels didn’t have to brush.
Sariel helped Seymour sit down on the toilet, saying firmly, “I will help you remove your shirt.”
“Tryin’ to get me naked?” Seymour teased, hissing softly as Sariel eased the shirt up and over his head.
“No, I am trying to assess your injury,” Sariel said, setting the shirt aside.
“Assess away.” Seymour looked at his shoulder and grimaced. It was swollen, and a bright purple bruise had already blossomed across it. “Don’t look too bad.”
“Are you in pain?” Sariel frowned as he lightly ran his hands around the bruise.
“I’ve had worse.” Seymour smiled. “Definitely the first time I ever got thrown through a fuckin’ wall though.”
Light glowed beneath Sariel’s fingers, oddly warm and soft, and he continued to gently caress Seymour. “Hold still.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Sariel’s lips twitched up in a small smile.
The pain faded, and the bruise was almost gone. Seymour could now raise his arm and flex it. “Damn! That’s amazing.”
“I told you to hold still,” Sariel scolded. “It is more difficult to heal you when you wiggle.”
“My bad.” Seymour grinned sheepishly. “So, uh, do we need to tell Lou that some squonky thing is wearin’ his face?”
“Yes. I imagine the mostri ribelli are seeking to create chaos within the family. But seeing as how it is well-known that such monsters exist who can change their shape, it should not be difficult to exonerate Lou from whatever they are planning.”
“What do we do now then? Take the head to the twins?”
“Yes, we should—”
“Oh, are we interrupting something?” Absolis purred.
“It looks as if we are,” crooned Vilanos.
The pair were poised at the doorway, one on either side. Vilanos wore a long structured gown made out of studded leather, and Absolis had an outfit consisting of the same material as a vest, waist cincher, and pants. Black roses with sprigs of tiny white flowers accentuated their outfits.
As usual, they both looked absolutely gorgeous.
They were also staring at Seymour as if they wanted to peel off his skin.
Fuckers.
“Damn! Don’t y’all knock?” Seymour groaned. “Come on now.”
Absolis smiled sweetly. “We saw that you were successful. Perhaps not as subtle as we would have liked.”
“Not subtle at all,” Vilanos chimed in.
“But we do so appreciate a man who delivers.” Absolis snapped his fingers, and the chest appeared at his feet.
“It is warded.” Sariel turned so he was standing between the twins and Seymour. “Be careful.”
Absolis and Vilanos rolled their eyes.
“We’ll be fine,” Vilanos drawled.
“Just fine,” said Absolis.
“Hey, does this mean I’m done now?” Seymour asked, peeking around Sariel. “You guys got the head thing, so you’ll give Mr. Heiss whatever it is he wants?”
“Soon,” Vilanos replied. “We must wait for the king to finish his dance before requesting an audience.”
“Oh, how he loves to dance,” Absolis gushed. “He and Talos will dance for days and days on end.”
“It is quite a sight.”
“Yes, quite a sight indeed.”
“And we must not interrupt.”
“No, never.”
“Uh, was pretty sure this was, like, super important?” Seymour frowned. “They can’t take a lil’ break?”
“No,” the twins replied flatly.
“Okie dokie then. When exactly are you gonna do the thing?”
“Soon,” they said with a smile.
“Fuck, can you not… Never mind.” Seymour rubbed his shoulder. “How long are they gonna be dancin’ for exactly? You said days? ’Cause that ain’t gonna work for me. I gotta get back home. I gotta go to work. I got shit to do.”
Sariel glanced back at Seymour, frowning.
Right.
Shit.
Absolis and Vilanos exchanged a bored stare, but Vilanos said, “I suppose we can make an exception for such a handsome mortal.”
Absolis winked. “So very handsome.”
“We’ll see what we can do. But no promises.”
“No promises.” Absolis leaned over at the same time as Vilanos, grabbing one side of the chest while he grabbed the other. They both grinned, their teeth suddenly sharp and pointed, their eyes black, and then they vanished.
“Fuck!” Seymour grabbed his chest. “I really hate that poofin’ shit.”
“Poofing?” Sariel tilted his head.
“Yeah! Ya’ know. Everybody ’round here just vanishes and goes poof.”
“Ah.” Sariel fidgeted. “I suppose you will too, yes? Poof?”
“You mean… Well.” Seymour scratched the back of his head, his insides crinkling up. “I don’t live here. I…”
“I understand.” Sariel’s tone was brisk, his expression blank. “If your shoulder is feeling better, perhaps we should rest. It has been a long day, and—”
“Hey, hey, wait a sec.” Seymour reached for Sariel. “Can’t we talk—”
“Seymour?” Day meowed as she padded into the bathroom. “Sariel?”
“Oh, hi, kitty girl.” Seymour forced a smile. “What’s up?”
“I… I wanted to rest somewhere, but I didn’t know where to go.” Day’s long tail twitched. “I don’t want to go back inside the Inro, so…”
“The couch is yours if you would like it.” Sariel’s smile was equally strained. “I can get you some blankets and a pillow.”
“Thank you.” Day purred happily.
Seymour watched Sariel leave, and his heart was in his throat as he pulled his shirt back on. He reached for Day, almost out of habit now, gathering her into his arms. “So, you, uh… You sleep?”
“Yes!” Day giggled. “Even though I am a spirit, my energy still needs to be recharged. I exerted myself quite a lot earlier.”
“You mean you ate a lotta bad guys?”
“Sure did.”
“All right, c’mon. Let’s go get you tucked in, my fierce lil’ kitty girl.”
“Are you all right?” Day pouted a bit.
“Huh? Yeah.” Seymour tried to give her a more sincere smile. “Just tired too, I reckon.”