Amaryllis Concocts a Plan
“Everyone,” Nick announced calmly, as he addressed the room in a bland voice.
His impassive expression and tone gave them the impression he was about to give a speech on quarterly earnings, rather than bringing a vengeance-driven, bloodthirsty, higher-level Demon into the house.
He gently set the look-alike Chuglet on the ground.
The real Reena hurried forward to sniff behinds and rumble greetings before circling around to sit and watch the proceedings.
Her tiny pink tongue poked from the edge of her muzzle as she wheezed in amusement.
Nick chuckled before raising his eyes to meet Malachi’s terrified gaze, Chuck’s bemused grin, and Luna’s bewildered stare. “So, I know you two”—he pointed at Malachi and Chuck—“have already met our esteemed guest. But Luna, I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of being introduced.”
The faux Reena dissolved into a cloud of crimson smoke.
As it dissipated, it revealed the figure of a voluptuous woman standing before them, with waves of silken hair, gypsy eyes, and carmine lips curved into a sensuous smile.
She dipped her head in greeting, her well-worn, creased battle leathers flexing with the movement, causing dried blood to flake to the floor.
“Amaryllis the Defiler,” Malachi breathed as he dropped to one knee in supplication. “You damn us with your evil presence, Great One.” He waved at Luna to join him on the floor.
Hearing the name of the Knight of Hell before her, Luna quickly copied the pose and prostrated herself as well.
“I beg your unholy mercy for not recognizing you sooner, my Dark Lady,” she moaned.
Her small frame trembled like a high-rise in an earthquake, so great was her fear of the Demon before her.
Amaryllis waved her off with a disarmingly soft smile that made Malachi quiver as he crouched on his own piece of ceramic tile. Behind him, he dimly heard the scrape of chair legs as Chuck rose and made her way to the capital letter D-Demon.
“Amaryllis,” Chuck murmured with only slight deference. “Nice to see you again.” A heavy pause added tension to the situation before she added, “I guess.”
Malachi groaned internally at her words, cursing the woman’s seeming lack of self-preservation.
Antagonizing a Knight of Hell was never a brilliant plan, but doing it to this particular one?
Even less so. He peeked up, with heavy dread churning his stomach, to watch as a slow feline smile curled Amaryllis’ lips with a sickening display of fangs.
Swallowing hard, he opened his mouth to intervene, definitely beg for Chuck’s life, probably offering his own instead if need be, but Amaryllis surprised him by letting out a quiet laugh.
“Hello, Kelly Charles,” the Demon purred.
“Good to see you again as well. I’m elated to assure you that Hyacinth is still rotting and oozing on my front gate.
” She glanced at the two lesser demons still kneeling before her and laughed louder, shaking her head.
“Rise, you two; I’ve no need for your continued feigned pledges. ”
It was on the tip of Malachi’s tongue to deny that his deference was feigned in any way, but a quick negative head shake from Nick shocked him into silence.
Slowly, he eased to his feet and tilted his head in curiosity.
Gone were the overbearing, menacing demeanor and constant miasma of death that usually clung to Amaryllis like a persistent fog. Now she seemed… almost approachable.
Sneaking another furtive glance at Nick, he tried to decipher the cryptic message the angel was trying to convey with his exaggerated facial expressions and flowery gestures.
It looked more like a poorly executed game of drunken frat boy charades.
Nick, he realized, quite frankly, sucked at being covert.
Malachi smirked; he didn’t care about being discreet when it came to the angel.
In fact, he relished an opportunity to get under his skin.
“Just say it, Nicodemus, what are you having an aneurysm about over there?”
Everyone silently turned to face the angel who indeed appeared to be suffering from a ruptured vessel in his brain.
His mouth opened and closed several times like a fish gasping for water as he tried to come up with something to say.
His cheeks slowly darkened from tomato to scarlet red as the others studied him with amusement.
Finally, his shoulders sagged, and he whooshed out a heavy breath at being caught.
“Fine,” he moaned in defeat. “Since you want everyone to know. I was trying to tell you that she’s making an effort to be kinder and gentler, but she doesn’t want anyone to make a big deal out of it. So… maybe let’s move on from this conversation?”
A disbelieving snort slipped from Chuck’s throat before she could stop it, clapping a hand over her lips to quiet the squeal trying to escape her. Unfortunately, the garbled noise resembled that of a strangled howler monkey caught in a monsoon.
Caught off guard by the decidedly unlady-like noise, Malachi also tried—and failed miserably—to contain his own snorting laughter.
Soon, the whole room filled with the sound of boisterous laughter, choked giggles, and wheezing huffs from Reena.
Once the cacophony of amusement and hysteria died down, Malachi wiped his eyes and gestured toward the living room.
“Why don’t we take this in there so we can continue this decidedly absurd conversation in comfort? ”
Spinning on his heels in a maneuver that flared his robes and ruffled his wings, Nick fled to the living room as if a full legion of Hellhounds were on his back.
Amaryllis followed at a much more sedate pace, her gait that of an apex predator slinking across the terrain.
Reena trotted behind them, curly tail waving so hard, her wiggly ass made it difficult for her to walk a straight line.
If she were ever required to complete a sobriety test, she would fail epically unless her tail was taped to her back.
Even then, it would only be a strong maybe.
Glancing at Chuck, Malachi shrugged, then waved Luna after the others before following the ladies into the next room.
There he slid into an armchair and pulled Chuck into his lap.
Wrapping his arms tightly around her waist, he murmured endearments against her spine, wishing the others would leave so he could be alone with her.
He was already over the big reveals for the day, and Nick’s anxiety was putting him on edge as well.
To Chuck, he sent, Hey, do you have any Xanax?
Would it be rude to throw one in Nickelodeon’s mouth?
Do you think it would even work on him? Maybe a horse tranquilizer would be better.
I don’t think even his celestial metabolism could burn through that quickly.
Chuck sputtered out a laugh and elbowed him in the shoulder, then whispered, “Hush!”
Nick cleared his throat with an irritated groan. “If we can move this along?” His arms were crossed tightly across his chest as he glanced around. Having his taboo paramour here was making him extra tense.
Never one to pass up an opportunity to tease Nick, Malachi peeked around Chuck’s shoulders.
“What’s wrong, Saint Nick? It’s almost like you don’t want anyone to know you’re voluntarily in the same room as your girl…
Um… I mean, with her exquisite darkness, Amaryllis.
” He winced as Chuck dug her thumb into his thigh.
“Or maybe just go ahead and tell us what brings you to visit?”
“Ramsilel,” Nick muttered. “Luna said he was involved. You remember I mentioned he used to be Hell’s representative for angel-demon relations?
” At their nods, he continued. “After Malachi mentioned it might be part of a larger plot, I went to ask Amaryllis if she knew anything about the situation. She wanted to meet Luna in person and ask more questions.” His hands disappeared into the sleeves of his robe as he mumbled under his breath about falling from grace and becoming a janitor to make ends meet.
Her lips pouting into a sensuous smile, Amaryllis patted Nick’s knee and winked.
“You know I think those feathers of yours would be dreadfully gorgeous in black. But now, Luna,” she demanded as she faced the young demon, her expression screaming there would be no defiance tolerated, “tell me the whole thing, start to finish.”
With alacrity, Luna leaned forward and began to recount her tale once more, leaving no details out.
As the story unfolded, Amaryllis’ easy smile dissolved into a terrifying slash of anger.
Briefly, Malachi felt a tiny bit sorry for whoever was about to face her wrath, but it quickly dissolved into gratefulness that it wasn’t him.
Nobody wanted to be on the pointy end of her frequently bloody sword.
Hyacinth’s remains were a testament to that, as she only kept him alive enough to greet her visitors and supplicants.
“I see,” she declared quietly when Luna’s story was done. Rubbing her chin with her thumb, she closed her eyes and thinned her lips, concentrating deeply.
An awkward silence followed while the others glanced about, trying to determine who, if anyone, would be brave enough to speak up. The group’s collective gaze nominated Nick, who glared stonily back at them, his eyebrows nearly touching; he was frowning so hard.
Malachi waggled a finger, gesturing between the two and puckered his lips in an exaggerated kiss, which only served to make the angel flush harder. Nick threw himself further back on the sofa and covered his face with his hands, groaning.
Amaryllis stood without warning and drew her sword with a vicious swiftness, the metal ringing like a death knell.
A collective gasp, followed by several whimpers, drew her gaze to them.
She smirked and tapped the point on the floor three times in rapid succession.
As she tapped her foot impatiently, she sheathed the sword again, then crossed her arms, watching the floor with a heated glare.
The wooden surface of the living room floor began to bubble as if it was made of tar; a thick, gooey plopping sound filled the room.
One large bubble burst, filling the air with a horrendous smell.
The stench was worse than decaying roadkill in the height of summer.
The sickly-sweet odor nauseated more than one person in the room, and poor Reena scurried through the doggy door for the fresher air in the backyard.
Horrible retching sounds came from her small muzzle as she fled.
Soon, a figure began to rise from the sticky pit.
Coppery hair capped the handsome face of the demon coming through the floor.
As he continued to rise, the hair fell in a long cloak around his body, draping him in a shimmery cape.
His skin and eyes were the same metallic copper hue, giving him a gleaming monochrome appearance.
He wore a large smirking grin as his leathery wings stretched behind him like an oversized bat.
Chuck found herself falling heavily into the chair as Malachi smoked out from underneath her, his shadows speeding toward the newcomer like a bullet.
The copper-skinned demon crouched, expecting the attack, and growled cheerfully as the shadows plowed into his chest. The impact knocked him flat on the floor, which was now solid again under his back.
Malachi reappeared, straddling the other demon’s chest and drew back a fist, readying it to deliver a solid blow to the man’s skull. Chuck leaped to her feet and drew her weapon, training it right between the demon’s eyes, a ferocious scowl drawing her brows together like thunder clouds.
“Hey, Malachi, I think your girl’s about to shoot me; better introduce us,” drawled the prone demon.
“Good!” Malachi laughed as he lowered his fist and sat back on his heels. “Would serve you right, but she’d make me clean up the resulting mess. Chuck, you can lower the gun. This is my cousin, Flick. He’s harder to kill than a cockroach, and twice as annoying.”