Once You Go Demon (Pure Souls) (31 page)

“Really? Can I put in an application? I recently lost my position”

“You got any references?” A smile flitted across Dee’s face. “Ah, screw it, when can you start?”

A stilted fist bit between them proved they clearly didn’t give a damn if people thought they looked like meatheads.

“Soon as I’m let go from my current position, I’m all yours,” Ramiel joked back.

Something about the way he said it, the tone, made Dee wonder if he was being sincere. “You got reassigned already? That was quick.”

Ramiel’s head shook. “No, still technically your overseer. Wish my replacement would hightail it home so he can be debriefed and take over my shifts. Not that there’s been any demon activity out of the ordinary, low hum to report. Nope, evil seems to have taken the holiday off. Been quiet all up and down the East Coast for a while.”

That hadn’t even occurred to Dee, but now that he looked at it, it was true. In a typical week, there was usually at least some sort of disturbance they considered following up on, but nothing had been on the schedule since the by-chance demon horde field trip crew they’d encountered when Riona had run away. 

“Maybe rumor got around that Michael was back. I understand he was one pretty badass mother once.  Everyone upstairs happy to have the prince back on the throne?”

Finishing off another glass, Ramiel raked the sleeve of a suit that would have cost a human a pretty penny. “Larry’s had the streamers prepped and bubbly on ice since I told them, but Mr. Big Shot must be waiting to make an entry. He still hasn’t checked in.”

“But he told Riona he had to attend to his angelic duties. He’s been gone for two days. He hasn’t appeared in Heaven yet?”

As though starting to realize the tone in Dee’s voice had bumped up three levels, Ramiel kicked into an introspective mask of contemplation. “No, not a peep. Not even a postcard.”

“Postcard?” Dee asked as a flushed Jerry stepped into their circle.

“Yeah, postcard,” Ramiel confirmed. “Big Boss sometimes wants to send messages out, and he uses postcards. Michael thought it was a cute idea, so he followed suit. Wait, you’re telling me that Michael told you he was going to be checking in with Heaven, then didn’t? As in, he lied?”

Dee muttered confusedly, “Archangels can’t tell lies.”

“Not if they’re in good standing,” Jerry confirmed. “But one who is fallen, or more appropriately,
falling
can.” He looked back and forth between the be-muscled men. “Where’s Riona? I have to get her out of here now.”

Ramiel’s eyes carried to the other side of the club, and to a set of stairs that ascended to a white-washed door. “I saw her go up there, about fifteen minutes ago.”

Chapter 35

Never would Jerry have thought losing his connection with hellfire and being completely mortal could be a bad thing. As he willed his feet to carry him up the stairs at a speed a human body could never achieve, he felt intimately just how much that transition had cost him.

The door, of course, was locked, but what was the point of magic if not to open doors? He knew the ruckus of his screams in a lost medieval Scandinavian tongue was drawing the eyes of his guests below. His profanity-laced outburst was the least of their problems. The laymen below were about to get a crash course in the existence of the supernatural world. Right now, Jerry couldn’t care less if a squadron of imps popped in, French kissed all the women, and rode around on the men like camels. He wasn’t going to pull out any stops on getting to Riona ASAP.

“Everyone out!” Dee bellowed behind in a booming tone that left one with no doubts of his superior genes. His voice filled the confines of the club, as spacious as it was. “Someone just phoned in a bomb threat. Evacuate!”

Jerry didn’t know if Dee was aware he wasn’t just whistling Dixie on that. Jerry was that bomb, and if he didn’t get to the bottom of this fast, he was going to go off. He exploded through the office door when at last it yielded to his demands, the demigod and the angel on his tail. Gone was the polished interior he had seen last time he was here. In place of the minimalist but refined furniture that reflected Persephone’s exquisite taste was fog: thick, blinding, and scented with sulfur. 

Undeterred, Jerry threw himself into the thick of it, driven. “Riona!” His voice fell out before him and flattened, as though he was shouting into a wall.

Dee voice rang out behind him. “
Caligo recedere!”
At least one of them had their shit together enough to do something rational. As the fog obeyed and thinned, the figure of a man, broad-shouldered and smug as all get out, arms folded over his chest, solidified before their eyes. 

“Michael!” Jerry spat the name out like a curse. “Where is she, you fallen heathen scum?”

Wagging his finger, Michael clicked his tongue.  “Now, now, pot. You don’t want to go upsetting the kettle, do you? It might boil over.”

Apparently Ramiel still held out the hope that this was all a big misunderstanding. “Sire, what is the meaning of this? Where is Riona?”

A low rumble filled the space, the snickering passing them before echoing back from all directions. “She’s …
occupied.

As he said it, his arm went out, and the fog cleared further. Just a little beyond where they stood, a clearing emerged. In its center, a four-poster bed sat, its intricate carvings and embellishments fit for a king. Jerry’s eyes focused in on the pair of bodies strewn atop it. The couple wasn’t yet engaged, but all indications of their body language said it was only a matter of moments.

“Marc!” Dee called out, though Jerry wasn’t sure if it was as a rebuke or a realization.

“Let’s give my daughter and her lover some privacy, shall we? After all, it would be a shame to waste a perfectly good morgana box.” Gloating through a grin, Michael flicked his fingers, fogging over the portal again. “Face it, boys, now that she’s been reunited with her demon, it’s only a matter of time before she realizes where her place is. With me, her father, and with Marc in Hell.”

“Sire? This doesn’t make any sense.” Ramiel’s hands threaded through his hair. He squeezed, as though trying to keep the truth in. Or perhaps, keep it out. “You aren’t one of the fallen. We would know. The Heavenly would have felt it if you fell.”

“He hasn’t fallen. Yet.” Jerry turned to the other two. “But that’s his intention. He’s committed his sin, he’s exerted his own will over that of Big Boss. He’s in purgatory, between planes. Molly Dade saw to that, didn’t she?”

Michael’s pride beamed. Uncrossing his arms, his hands clapped in mocking approval. “Gaius, nothing escapes you. Yes, the moment I saw Molly, I knew she’d be a perfect vessel for my seed. She dabbled in sin, so full of anger and bitterness. Oh, she hid it well, but not from me. And of course, a witch would ensure our progeny could wield magic. Molly’s self-absolution was something I never could have predicted, or that she would feel enough love for our child to turn my own angelic blade on me.”

“Way to go, Molly Dade,” Dee uttered.

“Indeed.” Michael concurred. “My own kitten turned and scratched me. It’s not often a mortal gets the better of me, and she put me in a difficult position. I was falling, and the moment I set foot in Heaven or Hell, the other angels would know it. I wouldn’t have put it past Gabriel or Larius to induce a miscarriage if they knew the plot I had conceived. Siddhartha could be counted on for having no care what was going on in the world of men. I’ve dwelt in Nirvana, waiting for her. But I needed someone to keep an eye on her, make sure she stayed mortal and pure until I could return.”

“Azazel,” Jerry gasped in realization. “That’s why he told Riona she was off limits. It wasn’t Lucifer’s edict, it was yours.”

“Jerry, you tempt me.” Michael examined him at length, appraising him. “Maybe it’s worth it to try to tempt you to our side again. After all, you fell easily enough the first time. If only there was even more forbidden knowledge I could seduce you to learn. Then again, now that I have your precious girlfriend ...”

“She’s your daughter, and my
wife,
” Jerry growled. “And we’ll both be laughing our asses off when we come for you.”

Ramiel piped up. “But, Sire … I don’t get it. Why?”

“Because this existence is pointless, you simpleton! How many Pure Souls will you watch die in the line of duty, trying to save mankind from its own self-destruction? The Grigori are all too able to corrupt men’s souls, because men are made to be corrupted. We both know it’s only a matter of time before Big Boss realizes this project’s folly and undertakes another rapture, just like he did with the nephilim. We couldn’t save them, and the Pure Souls can’t save men. I’m only hastening the inevitable, and the best way for me to make the world burn is to invoke the power of fire.”

Dee’s voice gurgled. “You’re going to overthrow Hell.”

“Oh, my dear Dionysius, I’m going for more than just a hostile takeover. I’m leveling the field by merging the players. Heaven, Hell, and humanity: all one big, happy family. Riona is the key. I can’t return to Heaven, the rules won’t allow a fallen to bridge. But my half-human, half-angel daughter is uniquely gifted to be able to walk in all three planes. I’ll need her body, her magic, to pull them all together. Oh, I assure you, no little amount of thought has gone into this.”

“It won’t work!” Ramiel rounded Dee and Jerry, standing between him and the traitor. “You forgot one critical thing: Riona
is
human. Half-angel or not, she still has free will. You can’t force her to do anything, and she will
never
do anything that allows Hell to unleash on Earth.”

“Enough!” Jerry screeched as the magic begging to leap forward from him tickled the tips of his fingers. “I’m ripping this fucker down.
Asseema-shahaf atterreru!”

He poured his soul into the effort. White hot and feral, the power leapt from him, consumed his being, filtered his essence into action and sped past Michael, barreling into the barrier between him and his beloved. The magic planed out over the confines which held her, probably without her even knowing, and fizzled to the edges. The box suffered nothing. All he had done was thrown the magical equivalent of a spit ball at a blackboard.

Jerry’s face blanched as he doubled over. Everything he had, he had given to the spell. The wasted effort left him destitute. Hellfire was beyond his reach now, and his remaining magic paled in comparison. Even with Dee’s presence to bolster his standing, it was not enough.

“An A for effort,” Michael mocked. “Why not just sit back and wait, Jerry. I’m sure he’s almost done with her.” At that precise moment, a scream from behind them, an accusatory screech of
Marc! Marc!
met their ears. “Or maybe he’s done with her already, though who’s to say if she isn’t just begging for more.”

Ramiel pulled Jerry from the ground and put him in Dee’s custodianship. “Think your morgana box can stand against my power, Michael? Take it down now, or I’ll bust it away.”

“Ramiel, such bold words for one not permitted by law to have an opinion.” Michael paced forward with all the coolness of a cucumber. “You’re skating on thin ice,
archangelus.
I’ve already taken my side on this, but if you get involved, you know you risk the fall?”

Ramiel’s jaw clenched. “I will not treasure my station over the corruption of the innocent. If it comes down to a choice between my wings and her life, I choose life. Fuck the accords!”

And with that, the archangel’s body burst into a radiant array. Jerry shielded his eyes from the pulse of light. When he was able to open them again, Ramiel, though still human to his eyes, was simultaneously so much more. Wings, bright as the sun and burning just as hot, stretched out from his being. His arms pushed forward, moving more than just muscle, moving air. Jerry could see reality bend before him as the energy the angel wielded hit its target. As though made of glass, the morgana box shattered, its confines falling away to dust. Riona’s eyes went wide; no doubt she suddenly became aware that her betrayal had had an audience, though not quite understanding why Jerry, Dee, Michael, and Ramiel stood at clear odds, and perhaps never before having seen an archangel enveloped in full glory.

Like rams vying for a mate, the angels locked arms. Equals in arms, neither could gain ground or advantage. Their fight led them to wander, leaving the path between the Pure Souls and the newly arisen demon unobstructed.

Riona scrambled off the bed and across the clearing, but Marc was on her tail. She hadn’t made it three steps when he caught her long, flowing red hair in his grasp and yanked her back.

“Now, now, sweet. What about our pillow talk?”

Jerry had never seen Dee move so quickly. The demigod grabbed the demon by the wrist and forced his hand open, though clearly Marc wasn’t putting up much of a fight on that end.

“Go to Jerry!” Dee bellowed as Riona’s exposed body crumpled to the floor. “I’ll take care of this bastard.”

Riona didn’t wait. Her instincts had ousted her heart as chairman of the decision-making board the moment she’d seen the hatred in Marc’s eyes. The moment she’d understood that her lover was not in fact her new spouse.

“What a friend you turned out to be!” she heard Marc bellow as Dee’s fist connected with his jaw.

She threw herself at Jerry. Caged in his arms, they scuttled to the ground before turning to watch the tide turn. Dee, though a mountain of muscle against which few humans would stand an ice cube’s chance in hell, rumpled as Marc’s hellfire-powered force leveled him.

“I thought you were my friend, Dee!” Marc’s voice, both accusatory and overwrought, evidenced his pain. “Yet you stand in witness of this? You give your blessing to my Riona whoring herself out to a demon?”

Dee struggled to his feet. A cracked lip dripped blood. Already, one of his eyes had begun swelling shut. “Yeah, you’re so much a better catch right now. Deceiving her into thinking you’re Jerry so you could screw her. Real upfront and honor-worthy there.”

“Better than blatantly giving herself to that hellspawn!” In a rambunctious swing, Marc backhanded Dee across the jaw, sending the demigod on a make out session with the ground. Dee landed in a heap, motionless.

Marc’s eyes crossed the clearing and the fifteen feet or so between them. His burning gaze met her own, and for a moment his features softened. He looked ever so much the humble priest she had loved. “Come with me and we can be together. You and me, we can have eternity.”

Though her brain knew the truth, her heart and her body swooned. Is this not what she had planned? Isn’t this what she wanted?

As though Jerry could sense her conflict, his hold on her tightened. He leaned down, stroking her cheek. “Don’t listen to him. It’s not possible. A demon can’t love.”

The corner of Marc’s mouth rose. He sneered at them. “If a demon can’t love, then what do you call what you feel for her, Jerry?”

Jerry arched, giving him leverage. “I’m not like you. I was resurrected.”

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