Chapter 18
The ants go marching
It was only a few minutes after finishing his dinner that Drew began to feel .
. . funny. The potato-like vegetable had been delicious and filling, and immediately after eating he had felt a little sleepy, which wasn’t unusual for him after a big meal.
But now, he felt a thrum of energy beneath his skin, almost like there were ants crawling there. But . . . not in a bad way.
Was there a good way to feel ants under your skin?
He didn’t think there should be, but since he was feeling exactly that in this very moment, there obviously was.
Drew rubbed at his arms, which made the ants dance and leap beneath his skin, tickling his nerves.
He stared at his arm, watching for any movement, but there was none.
He moved his face even closer so he could see better, and the soft hair on his forearm brushed against his nose.
“Drew?” Andras asked, sounding a mix of confused and amused. “What are you doing?”
“Ants,” Drew said, still staring at his arm.
“Ants?”
“Mmhmm. Under my skin,” he whispered, like he was sharing a secret.
Maybe it was a secret, though, since Andras didn’t know about the ants.
Maybe the ants didn’t like Andras, and that’s why they’d left him alone?
Did that make Andras sad? Would he be upset the ants didn’t like him?
Drew’s eyes welled up in sympathy, and he jerked upwards in order to console Andras.
Who had been leaning down over Drew to look for the ants.
“Mudder flukka,” Andras cried, clutching at his nose. Bright red blood was streaming over his hand already and dripping onto the top of the table.
“Ow,” Drew whined, rubbing the back of his head. “Why did your nose hit my head? I was trying to be nice to you!”
“You heb-budded me!” Andras protested, pulling a folded handkerchief from his pocket and trying to stem the bleeding.
“Heb-budded?” Drew repeated slowly. “Heeeeeeeeeeb budddddddddded,” he said again, drawing the sounds out. He giggled suddenly. “That’s a funny word! What’s it mean?”
Andras glared at him. “Head-butted,” he said slowly and carefully, though it was still nasally.
“What does your butt have to do with your head? And why are you bleeding? Did the ants bite you?” Drew stared at Andras, becoming a little lost in the way the crimson blood contrasted with the paleness of his skin and his almost white-blond curls. “So pretty,” he whispered.
“I mean this in the nicest possible way,” Andras said, wiping another trickle of blood off his upper lip where it had pooled in his cupid’s bow. “But what the actual fuck is wrong with you?”
“With me?” Drew exclaimed. “Nothing’s wrong with me! It’s you the ants don’t like, so there’s clearly something wrong with you!” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “The ants always know.”
“There aren’t any damn ants!” Andras snapped.
“You can’t see them because they’re under my skin,” Drew said slowly, wondering why Andras was being so daft right now.
“Jesus fucking Christ almighty,” Andras muttered to himself.
Drew gasped and darted a look around the room before turning back to Andras. He leaned in close to hiss, “Are you allowed to say that? Cos, like, it’s the other dude?”
“The other dude?” Andras asked blankly.
“You know,” Drew continued, pointing upwards. “The opposition.”
Andras tilted his head back to look at the ceiling. “The opposition? Are the Shadow Blades here? Did you see them go upstairs? Why didn’t you say anything?”
Why was Andras being so obtuse? Drew giggled again. Obtuse was a funny word too. “No, silly,” he said. “Jesus.”
“There’s a guy called Jesus on the upper floor?”
“Noooo,” Drew cried in exasperation. “Not upstairs. Up in Heaven.”
“Why would Heaven be upstairs?” Andras asked.
“The same reason Hell is underground,” Drew whined. “Ugh, why aren’t you getting this?”
“Because you’re talking utter nonsense. What is wrong with you? And where is Leila?”
Drew looked around, but couldn’t see his familiar. Panic gripped him. “The ants have taken her!”
Andras leaned over and looked under the table. “Or, she’s right here.” He disappeared for a moment and then sat back up, holding Leila in his hands. He looked at her closely, then peered at Drew. “Okay, I’m starting to put some things together,” he announced.
“’M not helping,” Drew told him. “I suck at Ikea furniture.”
Andras carried on like Drew hadn’t spoken at all. Rude!
“Your familiar seems to be off her face.” Andras plonked Leila down on the table.
She raised her head an inch, then fell forward and rolled onto her side, bokking quietly.
Her irises were black, but not as black as her pupils, but her pupils were so dilated at the moment that very little of her irises could be seen.
“You also appear to be drugged,” Andras told Drew. “Have you taken something?”
“Is she going to be okay?” Drew asked, poking Leila gently and ignoring the question.
“I don’t think there’s much that can cause lasting harm to a familiar. She’ll be fine. I’m more worried about you. What did you take, Drew? You’re high.”
“I’m high?” He frowned, trying to figure out how that had happened. “I’ve never been high before. How did that happen?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Andras said. “I’m guessing you took nothing, then, if you don’t normally do drugs?”
Drew shook his head and then stopped, since it made the ants much more active, and that was starting to make him feel sick. “I didn’t take anything. Though if I took a drug test, I might fail.” He giggled at that. “I probably shouldn’t operate heavy machinery either.”
“Kill me now,” Andras muttered. He let out a long breath, then froze. “Oh, shit. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Think of what?”
Andras pointed at their empty plates. “I think you’ve had a reaction to the traanllylln. The leaves of that vegetable are used for medicinal purposes here.”
“Traaaaaaanalalalalanalalayn?” Drew sounded out.
“Traanllylln,” Andras corrected. “I thought the root vegetable part would be safe for you, but I think it’s drugged you.”
“So, it’s not the ants who did it?”
“No, precious. It’s not the ants.”
“I knew they liked me,” Drew said happily. He leaned his head on the top of the table right next to Leila. “Hear that, girl? The ants looooooove me.”
She tilted her head to the side and nudged his nose with her beak. Bok!
“I’m sure they love you too,” he assured her.
Bok!
“Mmm, I’m hungry again too,” Drew told her. He looked up at Andras. “Can we order some more potato-like stuff?”
“Jesus fucking Christ almighty.”
“Is upstairs!” Drew yelled.
“Okay, and then you put your hands on your hips . . .”
The crowd of demons in front of Drew all put their hands, claws, or talons on their hips, except for one, who just looked confused.
“Maybe you could put your appendages on the part between your thorax and your abdomen?” Drew suggested.
This demon didn’t seem able to talk, or whatever crazy translation thing was going on here didn’t translate to English, but they chirped happily and their pincers moved to that area.
“Awesome! Now we shake our hips and yell Heyyyyyy! Macarena!”
“Drew, come on. It’s time to go and get some sleep,” Andras said, taking his elbow and trying to guide him towards the stairs.
“Sorry, can’t!” Drew pulled free of his grasp and skipped away. “Imdugud is gonna show me his new pin feathers!”
“Fuck!”
“She didn’t!” Drew gasped, clutching at his chest as the old demon opposite him wiped tears from his eyes. His tears were kind of gummy and a colour that Drew hadn’t seen on Earth before, but they were definitely tears.
“Aye, she did,” the demon confirmed. “With my own mother.”
“I am so sorry, Paimon, that you went through that,” Drew said earnestly. “Do you need a hug? We can hug it out.”
More tears leaked from Paimon’s eyes, and he nodded before reaching out with his six arms and hugging Drew fiercely.
Andras slammed back the last of his liquor and held up his glass. “Another! And keep them coming!”
“So everyone thought you were just friends?” a tiny demon asked, all three eyes wide as she looked at Drew with rapt attention.
He nodded emphatically. “Yep. And at that point, we were. In fact, we’d only met a couple of days before then.”
“But you wanted him?” Furcas asked, stroking his long white beard.
“Fuck yeah,” Drew exclaimed. He sighed dreamily. “He’s so hot.”
The three eyed demon—who had refused to give Drew her name—bounced in her seat. “So, what happened? Did you get together?”
“Yep! That night. He danced dirty with me until I came in my pants and then he licked me clean.”
Furcas covered his mouth. “Oh!” he gasped. “That’s so romantic!”
“Can’t you keep him under control?” Andras moaned to Leila as he watched Drew happily stand against the wall while a drunk demon demonstrated his knife-throwing skills.
Leila rolled over onto her back, showing off her fluffy belly. Bok.
Andras threw his hands in the air. “Ugh, what use are you?”
Bok.
His brow furrowed as he stared at the familiar. “You didn’t even eat any of Drew’s meal. How the fuck are you drugged when you didn’t ingest it?”
Bok!
“I’m guessing what happens to Drew reflects onto you?” Andras mused.
Leila started to rub her feathers over the tabletop as she did when taking a dust bath.
Unfortunately, there was no dust on the table, just spilled beer.
Andras picked her up, her feathers soggy against his palm.
From across the room came a shout of glee as a knife landed between Drew’s legs.
He sighed. “Zachariel is really going to kill me,” he muttered.
“Do any of you know about the ants?” Drew had joined several older demons in a circle in front of the fire, and he thought they looked like they might know of them.
One demon raised his talons and scratched at his head before shaking it. “Can’t say that I do.”
“What are ants?” another asked.
“They’re like tiny insect things,” Drew said, holding up his thumb and pointer finger so they almost touched. “Tricksy things.”
“What do they do?” the first demon asked.
“They dance under my skin,” Drew told them solemnly.
“Hmmm. Can you show us this dance?”
Andras raised his head as he heard a commotion and saw Drew marching on the spot.
“The ants go marching one by one, hoorah! Hoorah!” he sang at the top of his lungs. “The ants go marching one by one, hoorah! Hoorah!”
“For fuck’s sake,” Andras whispered, and thunked his head down on the table.
“And there’s a green monster who lives in a trashcan,” Drew explained.
The front doors of the inn burst open, and several figures stormed inside. At the same time, the door to the kitchen was flung open, and a tall, imposing figure entered. The light from the fire reflected off the silver hoops in his ears and eyebrow.
“By order of Lucifer Morningstar, Prince of Hell,” Orias said into the sudden silence that had fallen over the inn.
“This tavern is now closed.” He gestured at Andras and Drew, and several Shadow Blades moved in to grab them and drag them before him.
Orias looked down at them on their knees before him and shook his head.
“You should have known you couldn’t run forever. You’re under arrest.”