2. CHAPTER #3
“Can you not speak?”
The leshy pouted. “Grow.”
It was the single saddest grow Indy had ever heard in his entire life.
“No big deal! It’s all right. Okay, so, uh. Let’s not worry about growing right now, and uh, let’s come up with a name.” Indy hummed. “How about Jolly? Or Vlasic?”
The leshy pouted harder, his shoulders sagging.
“Sorry, babe, but we’ve gotta call you something. Mount Olive? Ollie? Grillo? Hmm.” Indy sighed. “Running out of pickle brands...”
“What about Dill?” King suggested cheerfully. “Is that a brand?”
“I don’t think so but close enough.” Indy laughed. “How about it, babe? How’s Dill sound?”
The leshy perked right back up and nodded.
“Perfect. There we go. Nice to meet you, Dill.” Indy wiggled his fingers in a little wave. “Don’t suppose you can tell me how to get this ring off by any chance, can you?”
Dill shuffled his feet and went back to looking at the books.
“Guess that’s a no.” Indy sighed and flopped across the couch. “Go on and take five, Dill. I am going to have a nice little stress nap.” He looked up to see if Dill would give any reaction, but Dill had already vanished. “Huh. Okay. That was fast.”
“Maybe he needed a nap too,” King suggested.
“Maybe. So, what’s your deal?” Indy smirked. “Other than the most epic case of giving head?”
“Eh?”
“You’re a talking skull. Are you, like, magical or something?”
“Sure am. I used to be the star of me very own act!” King beamed. “Me and this eejit, Pink Charlie. I’d tell jokes, have ’em all eating out of the palm of me hand… Well, more like out of me eye socket? Because I don’t have hands. Or eyes. But I do have eye sockets.”
“Okay. Cool. Is talking all you do?”
“Talking? Talking! Why, I can speak the language of the stars and read the tiny fibers that hold the universe together! I can see the future, sure!” King’s eyes glowed brighter. “It’s how I knew fuck face was gonna find the ring and that the two of you will commit sins of the flesh—”
“You mean fuck?”
“Sure, that.”
Indy shrugged.
Sex felt inevitable with most of the men he met, so it didn’t seem too out of place with Mr. Heiss. The heat that rolled down Indy’s spine at the thought, however, was new.
Whatever.
“Is there a Mrs. Heiss?” Indy asked innocently. “Or, hmm, another Mr. Heiss? Not sure how that would work with the names…”
“What? Do yeh mean is there, like, somebody around to fuck him?” King cackled. “Not since I’ve known him. Which hasn’t been that long, in fairness. Definitely long enough to hate him, but that was instant, sure.”
“Real.”
“There was this one witch fella who kept tryin’. Like mad. Shiloh something or other. Absolutely gaspin’ for the cock. But Mr. Heiss never even let him smell it.”
“Wow. Thanks for that.” Indy snorted out a small laugh and then sighed.
He’d been in crazy situations before, but being kidnapped by a big boss demon was a first. The ball of dread rolling around his stomach was new too.
He’d always been able to get himself out of trouble thanks to a combination of steel balls, unflinching wit, and unique magic.
On the rare occasion that it was something more than he could handle, he’d always had Mr. Kalt there to call for help.
But there was no Mr. Kalt here.
Indy reached up to his throat, feeling the edge of the invisible collar that bound him to his master. He’d specifically requested that it remain unseen so as to not clash with any of his outfits, though the weight of it was always there.
It was particularly heavy at the moment, though he couldn’t quite say why.
Maybe it was because his current predicament was a stark reminder that his life was no longer his own. He was a pawn in someone else’s game and what little control he thought he had was an illusion because a fuck face demon could simply snatch him up whenever they wanted.
Yes, he was alive, but the quality of said life was forever at another’s discretion.
Like the aforementioned fuck face demon who had dumped him here in this lame house with no drugs, no alcohol, and a talking skull who didn’t shut up.
King had been prattling on the entire time Indy was lost in his thoughts, but Indy only just tuned back in.
“—and then the pretty lads gave me to fuckin’ fuck face, the angel got to shift the other fucker after pissing off fuck face, and I think the big fae king ponce made some poor lad into flowers, but I can’t be sure ’cause I was inside fuck face’s coat—”
“Well.” Indy coughed. “That’s a great story that I cannot wait to hear the rest of, but I’m gonna take that nap now, so—”
“There will be no nap.” King’s eyes glowed brighter now, his voice dropping into a flat tone as he said, “There will be six men comin’ to the door. It is locked, sure, but they’ll bust it in. They’re going to drag you off. There will be blood. Gallons of blood...”
“Wait, what?” Indy bolted up. “Right now?”
King’s gaze dimmed and then he seemed confused. “Eh?”
“When is this happening? Do we need to leave, like, right now or what?”
“Oh! How the fuck should I know?”
“You are complete ass at telling the future.”