Chapter 8 Astrid #3
Martha let out a belly laugh. “Lady might be fuckin’ pushin’ it, but thank you all the same, Cred.”
“What she said,” Jane agreed, grinning like a fool. “In fact, nice, nice, nice Pussycat… I think from now on, you can call me Lady Jane.”
Pussycat froze and stood as still as a statue.
It was petrifying. Even Cred seemed taken aback.
I wasn’t sure if Uncle Fucker was about to lose it or about to transport back to Hell.
Jane was walking on paper thin ice. If the Devil left, he and I were screwed.
We did not appreciate each other yet. I was beginning to regret bringing Martha, Jane, their boobs, and their big mouths along.
“Nope,” I cut in quickly. “As I recall from high school history, Lady Jane was beheaded for high treason. I’d seriously suggest just sticking with Jane, or you could go with Insert Foot into Mouth and Pull it Out of Your Ass with Flaming Pliers.”
Jane blanched then chuckled. “Got it. Think I’ll stick with Jane!”
“Lovely to meet all of you,” Cred said, patting the goat lovingly. “I’ll be off to snooker now. Take care!”
As she waddled away, I noticed Satan wiggle his fingers and launch a tiny apparatus at her. It attached itself to the fraying hem of her ragged skirt. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I had a good guess.
“Shall we take a stroll?” he inquired. “A brisk walk is what we need.”
“Not so fast,” I told him. “Did you just put a tracking device on Cred?”
He grinned. “Possibly.”
I rolled my eyes. He wanted to mess with Critter Steve and Trapper Rick badly.
It was unclear if he would stick to the deal of refraining from decapitating them.
If he lopped their heads off, we weren’t just screwed, we were fucked.
There was no coming back from ending the lives of people who’d poked fun at his wank.
Respecting him would be impossible. For real.
And I’d be stuck with a dick for the rest of time, and he’d be sporting a vagina.
It was time to waste a little time. It was possible that Cred could walk right out of the area that the device could track. It was doubtful, but I was reaching for straws at this point.
“Tell me about Critter Steve and Trapper Rick,” I said, blocking the path for Uncle Fucker to leave.
His brow arched. “I see what you’re doing.”
I shrugged. “Yep. I’d suggest you play along.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ll leave London and you’ll be the proud owner of a va-jay-jay for eternity,” I replied flatly.
“You wouldn’t,” he hissed.
“You want to test that?” I challenged.
The Devil wasn’t used to not getting his way. He despised it. “Should I remind you that you will forever be the proud owner of an enormous cock if you cut and run?”
He was correct. We were in a no-win situation, but I knew how to get under his skin. “I’ll just castrate myself every morning,” I announced as if I was talking about the weather. “And then I’ll ask Connie Raven Enid Delacroix for some boobs and a makeover. It’ll be fine,” I lied through my teeth.
I was digging a big fucking hole. If I wasn’t careful, I could bury myself alive, or dead if I was being technical.
“You’re an idiot,” Uncle Fucker said with a small smile playing at my lips. “An utter idiot. The backfire of your threat is astronomical.”
I tried not to grin back. I failed. “You got me,” I admitted. “Just promise me that you’re not going to kill Critter Steve and Trapper Rick. And no lying.”
Satan’s head fell back on my shoulders and he groaned dramatically. “What happens if I promise and then I slip on something, well… you know… slippery and in a panic while trying not to fall, I accidentally behead the fuckers?”
“Umm… no.”
“Would hiring someone to decapitate them negate the promise?” he inquired.
“Umm… yes.”
“You’re a tough negotiator,” he said.
I sighed. “This shouldn’t even be a freaking negotiation,” I pointed out. “It’s common decency.”
“And disparaging my cock is decent?” he demanded, shocked.
Shaking my head, I laughed. “It’s not nice,” I conceded. “But let’s give them a chance to explain.”
“I can still electrocute them?” he asked.
“Twice,” I confirmed.
“Each?”
He was making me want to electrocute him. “Yes. Each.”
“Very well then,” he said. “What do you want to know about the cretins?”
I considered my words. Satan was notorious for skirting issues and talking in circles until you forgot what you’d asked. Simple questions were the best.
“Both Critter Steve and Trapper Rick are Demons?”
“They are.”
“When was the last time you saw the Demons?”
He paused and thought. “1815.”
“In Hell?”
“Yessssss. In Hell. And to save you asking more moronic questions, I shall help this conversation along. They were insolent—and were punished. Critter Steve and Trapper Rick were sent to London to do hard labor as night soil men.”
“Night soil men?” I asked, confused.
Satan threw his hands in the air. He was so over me. I didn’t care. I was desperately searching for any reason at all to respect the dick. He was not helping.
“Lizard,” he said. “Can you take over here? I’m getting bored.”
“Yes, my liege,” he replied. “Night soil men operated in London from the medieval times right up to the 19th century.” He nodded and bowed.
“And?” I pressed. “What the heck did they do? What was so bad about being a night soil man that Uncle Fucker thought it was a good punishment?”
“Ahhh,” Lizard said. “Of course. Before there was indoor plumbing, Londoners had cesspits.”
“Nasty,” Jane commented.
“Word,” Martha added.
“Quite,” Lizard agreed. “Night soil men were tasked with collecting and removing the literal shit from the cesspits and slop pots of excrement and urine from homes.”
“Oh my God,” I said with a gag. “That’s awful.”
“They were called night soil men due to the fact they were required to work under the darkness of night. The soil stands for the poo and the men part is self-explanatory. The nights were also chosen because of the extreme stench of the work.”
“Disease,” I said softly. “How many night soil men died from disease?”
Satan turned his back and walked away. I wasn’t sure if the conversation was uncomfortable for him or if he just didn’t give a damn. It was fifty-fifty.
“Many.” Lizard shook his head sorrowfully. “Not Critter Steve or Trapper Rick as they are Immortal.”
I sat down on the edge of an empty cement planter and stared at the cobblestone pebbles embedded in the ground. “So, they were punished and then worked alongside humans, who they probably became friends with and had to watch them die… over and over and over?”
“You don’t know that,” Satan snapped.
“Educated guess,” I snapped back. “You should be very proud of yourself, jackass.”
“Shall we talk about being proud?” he countered. “Your people unnecessarily drained humans for thousands of years… for the Hell of it.”
“Before my time, turd,” I shot back. “And we don’t allow it anymore.”
“Not what I heard,” he replied.
I stood up and went toe to toe with him. “Tell me what you heard.”
He smiled. It wasn’t pretty. “Your Oklahoma Vamps have killed twenty-five humans in the last month alone.”
My stomach dropped. That’s why Ethan had gone there. I’d never liked the Oklahoma Vamps. They were assholes. Now… now I hated them. Hate was a strong word and I rarely used it since it took more energy to despise others than to get along, but killing humans was not going to work for me. Ever.
“Got it,” I ground out. We needed to get Uncle Fucker’s meeting with Critter Steve and Trapper Rick over with.
I had an urgent appointment in Oklahoma that was far more important than a rumor about the Devil’s package size.
Hopefully, Satan and I could respect each other enough to trade bodies before the trip to the armpit of the United States, but if not…
so be it. I’d deal with it even in Uncle Fucker’s skin.
“We’re going to play snooker,” I said, glaring at myself who wasn’t remotely me. “I’m in charge. Not you.”
“I beg your pardon?” Satan was shocked.
“I’m you. You’re me. They made fun of my junk,” I stated flatly. “I’m gonna drop trou, and show them your dick. THEN, I, as you, will apologize for the shitty—PUN INTENDED—punishment you gave them and they’ll apologize to you, or rather me, for making fun of your wank.”
“Can I still electrocute them?” he inquired warily.
It was clear he was a little terrified of me. That was cool. I was a little terrified of him. It balanced out nicely.
“That remains to be determined.” I paused and closed my eyes for a hot sec. “Lizard, I’m gonna need you to handle the wank if it becomes necessary. I’m not touching it.”
“Roger that,” he said with a laugh. “I got you and your wank covered.”
Kinder words had never been said.