Chapter Eight Hell Has Nothing On Dirty Diapers
The longer I’m in the mortal realm, the more I realize just how different it is from Hell.
For example, when someone is mad at you in Hell, you know it.
How? Because they’re either screaming at you or punching you in the face.
Occasionally, there’s a duel to the erasure of existence. Sometimes, you get set on fire.
Which is why I find Ezra’s silence more unnerving than an angel wandering the pit looking for a wayward soul.
The SUV is so quiet I can hear Gideon sucking on his fingers.
I steal a look at Ezra and cringe.
He’s angry.
He must be angry.
Why else would he be gripping the wheel in front of him so hard his hands look more like bone than flesh?
He hasn’t looked at me since we left the store. The air in the car is tenser than the time my succubus friend accidentally crashed a celibacy convention.
As the silence stretches, I learn another important factor about the human realm...human babies can sense tension.
It starts as a little fuss. Just the tiniest little cry of frustration.
“We’re almost home, little guy,” Ezra says soothingly.
Apparently, almost home is not soon enough. What began as a sad little fuss morphs into an ear-piercing wail of distress.
I twist around in my seat, choking myself on this absurd restraint, in an effort to see Gideon. “What’s wrong?” I ask, alarmed and frustrated that the contraption Gideon is being held captive in is blocking my ability to comfort him.
Erza lays a hand on my shoulder, turning me back to the front, effectively ceasing my strangulation.
“He’s probably hungry and needs to be changed.”
I chew my bottom lip and keep glancing over my shoulder as Gideon's cries become sharper. What seemed like a short trip before feels like it takes an eternity as my chest twists with my own distress over Gideon. When we finally arrive at Ezra’s house, I claw at the restraint holding me in.
Ezra reaches down and presses a button at my side, and the contraption disappears back into its holding cell.
Clearly sensing my eagerness to exit his SUV, Ezra practically sprints around the car to let me out before opening the back door and detaching Gideon from the torture chair’s dias.
“It’s okay, Gideon, we’re home now. Let’s get you changed and fed.”
Once we’re in the house, he sets Gideon's chair-seat thing on the couch and looks back to the door, then to me. It’s the first time he’s looked at me since we ran into Bea. I see the uncertainty in his face as he weighs some decision.
“I’ll get him settled and then unload the car,” he says, pulling at strings and clicking buckles before finally releasing a screaming Gideon to be picked up.
I nearly pounce forward, reaching for the small boy. “I’ll change him,” I offer eagerly.
Ezra gives me the same look he gave me this morning when I offered to make Gideon’s bottle.
“I can do this,” I assure him confidently. I watched him very carefully this morning when he changed the baby’s diaper.
He hesitates, indecision dancing across his handsome face. With a sigh, he steps into my space and holds out the crying infant.
I look at Gideon, with his tiny trembling lip, and nearly cry myself.
“Don’t cry, little guy,” I say in a decidedly not badass demoness voice, “It’s gonna be okay.” I sniff, holding him close.
A strange look passes over Ezra’s face before he turns on his heel and heads for the door. I take him over to what Ezra called the changing station and lay him down. Once I’ve got his little outfit unbuttoned, I grab the diaper and moist cloths.
“We got this, don’t we, Gideon?”
Gideon sniffles, and my chest aches.
I give him a quick nod and get to work. “Okay, first thing, we undo the diaper you have on,” I tell him.
This proves to be trickier than I thought. The straps on the side are crinkled, making it hard to grip them and get them to release. After a short struggle, I opt to extend a claw.
“Don’t tell Daddy,” I whisper conspiratorially, clicking my claws over Gideon’s head.
Gideon blows a spit bubble, which I take as a sign that my secret is safe with him.
Once I slice the holdings, I lower the diaper and grab a cloth, preparing to wipe like I saw Ezra do earlier.
As I grab one wiggly leg, there’s a soft noise, like a little squeak.
“What was that?” I wonder aloud as I grab his other leg.
Then, it hits me...the smell.
Like rotten eggs, sour milk, and something dead got together and decided to have a baby with a dumpster behind a fish market during a heat wave.
That’s when Gideon’s butt explodes like the gates of Hell itself opening up to allow legion to escape.
A steady stream of baby poop squirts out like a cannon, spraying the entire surface of the table and running down his back like lava from an exploding volcano.
“Satan save me,” I say, retching.
My eyes start to water as I frantically grab cloths and begin to wipe the mess.
“Fuck little guy, Hell has nothing, and I mean nothing, on dirty diapers,” I say between chokes and dry heaves. “How can someone so adorable produce something that smells so vile and horrid?”
Gideon apparently finds my monologue highly entertaining as he makes a happy coo.
I must use fifty of the cloths before I manage to get the whole mess and Gideon clean.
I wrap the toxic biohazard into the disposal Ezra used earlier and lift Gideon to place the clean diaper underneath him.
Just as I’m about to close and seal, a jet stream of liquid shoots up and hits me in the face.
“Unholy Hell!” I exclaim as Gideon kicks his legs wildly while making cute baby sounds.
“Stop!” I yelp, holding out my hand for cover. “How is there anything left in you after that eruption?”
A bark of laughter has me twisting my head.
Erza stands a short distance behind me, doubled over laughing.
“Something funny, Professor Pookey Bear?” I seethe, turning back to Gideon and tossing the now-soaked diaper. I grab a few more cloths and wipe myself as best I can before cleaning him up.
“Hysterical, actually,” he says, walking to stand beside me.
“Just how long have you been standing there watching this fiasco?” I grumble.
“Long enough to know buying extra baby wipes when I wasn’t close to being out yet was the right call.”
I glare at him, but instead of cowering in fear like a sane human facing a literal demon would, Ezra smiles. It transforms his handsome but tired face into something devastating, momentarily stealing my breath.
“Want me to take over, Princess?” he asks as he continues to laugh.
“I’ve got this,” I mutter, placing a new diaper under Gideon and getting it secured.
“You’re covered in pee,” he notes.
“I know.”
“And baby poop that smells like the bog of eternal stench.”
“I’m painfully aware.”
“And there’s a baby wipe stuck to your shoulder.”
I groan, reach around to retrieve said wipe, and add it to the bin.
He laughs again.
“You know. Most people would have given up after his butt exploded,” he muses.
I tilt my head in his direction as I fasten the buttons of Gideon’s outfit. “I’m not most people. I’m a demoness. A little escaped bodily fluid isn’t going to scare me.”
“Really? I could have sworn five minutes ago you were asking Satan to save you. That irony is not lost on me, by the way,” he chuckles.
I scoff as I lift Gideon up, noting his sweet little smile. “All done, baby bear,” I coo in victory.
When I turn to Ezra, I can still see the trail of tears from his laughter. He still smiles, though it’s softer, with something beneath the amusement. He reaches out, and I hand him his son.
“I’m going to go clean up now,” I state, marching past him.
I hear his chuckle as I climb the stairs. Halfway up, I just barely hear his whisper, “The crazy demoness isn’t so bad, is she, little guy?”
My heart skips several beats before I zap the bitch back into rhythm.
This is a case.
Not a family.
Not my family.
A case.
Even as I enter the bathroom, I can’t shake the ache that now accompanies the steady beat of my heart.
I shower quickly and use my magic to generate a clean set of clothes. When I make my way downstairs, Ezra is in the same spot I found him this morning. Gideon rests on his shoulder as Ezra gently pats his back. I take a seat opposite him on the couch.
Ezra looks at me, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
Ass.
“For reference,” I say, “It’s situations like those that inspire demonic possession theatrics because the fact that someone so precious and cute could make that much noise and produce that putrid smell is nothing short of fear-inducing.”
He laughs, startling Gideon.
“I’m sorry, little guy,” he laughs softly. “Don’t make me laugh. I’m trying to get him to sleep,” he says, but there’s no heat behind it.
“Can I try?”
“You sure? Your last experience seemed to be a bit harrowing.”
I roll my eyes and scoot closer, reaching for the baby.
Ezra leans forward and hands him over.
Gideon wiggles around a moment before settling his head on my shoulder. I let the glamour I wore to the store drop and unfurl my wings. I wrap them around so that they lie on him like a blanket and rock gently, side to side. My eyes close, and I hum softly.
My eyes meet Ezra’s when they open. There’s a vulnerability in his gaze, an unspoken sadness that lurks beneath the surface of the loving, devoted Dad.
The emotions it stirs in me are more frightening than punishment in hell ever could be.
I want to reach out and comfort him, but before I can, he turns away and clears his throat.
“He’s asleep,” I say as I open my wings.
Ezra stands and leans down, gently removing Gideon. “I’m going to lay him down,” he says, straightening.
I nod and watch him head up the stairs. Not knowing what to do with all the feelings swirling in my chest, I get off the couch and head to the kitchen. The various items we bought at the store sit on the counter. I decide to be useful and find homes for everything.
I begin opening cabinets and discover even more types of things.
Chips, cookies, crackers.
So.
Many.
Choices.
I’ve nearly emptied one whole cabinet by the time Ezra joins me in the kitchen.
He takes one look around and shakes his head. “You are like a toddler tornado.”
“I don’t know what that means, but have you seen these cookies? They’re stuffed with chocolate! And these chips are flavored like bacon! Bacon, Ezra. Do you know the atrocities that one has to commit to get bacon in Hell?”
He sighs and begins picking up boxes and placing them into the cabinet.
“It means you are chaos incarnate.” There’s the smallest hint of a smile when he says it that has me smiling too. I stop looking at all the various items and start handing Ezra boxes. We’re quiet long enough that I start to feel the tension from the car all over again.
I keep stealing glances at Ezra, trying to decipher his level of anger.
“What?” he asks when he catches me for the second time.
“Nothing,” I say, quickly busying myself with the items on the counter.
“Syn.”
“Hmm?”
“What?”
“Are you mad?” I blurt when I can’t take it anymore.
He stops with his arm halfway to the cabinet. “What?” he asks, stunned.
I avert my gaze, studying the package of crackers shaped like tiny fish.
“After your friend left, you stopped talking to me,” I say, quietly.
“And you thought I was mad?”
“You were gripping that wheel in your transport device like it had personally offended you.”
When he doesn’t respond immediately, I force myself to look at him.
His cheeks have gone pink and his ears a few shades darker.
Odd.
“Ezra?”
“I wasn’t mad,” he says, placing the box in the cabinet.
He moves to another cabinet and opens it, grabbing a few bags of chips and placing them inside.
“I was... embarrassed.”
Oh.
Oh.
He catches my face and rushes his words, “Not of you. Never of you. You’re, you, and you’re gorgeous. Who would believe a knockout like you would go for a geek like me?”
Ooooh. Is this...flattery?
A warm, fuzzy feeling blossoms in my chest.
“I was just thinking.”
“About Bea?” I ask a little harshly.
Ezra drops the bag of pretzels. “What?! No!” he says firmly, cutting his hand through the air as if that was the end of that line of thinking.
He bends down, grabs the pretzels, and heaves a heavy sigh.
“I haven’t dated anyone since Gideon’s mom.
I was wondering what possessed you to say that you were my girlfriend. ”
“I panicked.”
“You panicked?” he says in utter disbelief.
Yes, I panicked. There was a woman touching your son and then touching you.”
Disbelief morphs into curiosity.
“Hold on,” he says, holding up a hand.
I cock my head, slightly confused. “Yes?”
“That’s what bothered you? The fact that she was touching me?”
My mouth opens, then closes, then opens again before I turn my attention back to the nearest box with an unrealistic drawing of a ghost eating berry-flavored puffed cereal.
“Does that bother you?” he prompts.
“Bother me?” I sputter, shoving chip bags into his arms. “No. It doesn’t bother me. Why would it bother me? Does it bother you?” I rattle on, the pitch of my voice gradually rising with each word. I continue to hand him things at lightning speed until all the purchased items have been put away.
When we’re done, he leans against the counter, arms crossed as if waiting for me to do or say something.
“What do you want?” I blurt.
“For you to tell me why Bea touching me and Gideon bothers you,” he says simply with a shrug.
I feel the tether pulse momentarily.
“True, but not the summoning source.”
“To end this awkward conversation that is going nowhere and watch The Lord of the Rings to relax.”
Again, I feel the tether pulse.
“Also true, but also not the source. However, based upon the plethora of items I've seen with Lord of the Rings on them, I have to admit I’m curious.”
His face twists painfully. “You really do live in Hell if you have never seen the extended trilogy. Come on, Princess, let’s broaden those horizons.”
The tether pulses again, a bit stronger this time. I should be excited. This is a sign I am getting closer. But getting closer to my goal means getting closer to the end of my time here, and I couldn’t find any excitement in that.