Holy Socks And Dirtier Demons (30 page)

BOOK: Holy Socks And Dirtier Demons
9.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

passenger on JetBlue airplane. Metal clanged as Sid tried to pull his sword

from the wall. I scanned the hallway for my own sword, but something else

caught my eye. Or lack of something, I should say. Mary was gone. The

ropes that bound her laid useless on the floor.

Fuck. Idiot.

I straightened at the whistling sound of Tyrfing slicing through the

air. The sword, as it had in the past, struck straight and true, embedding itself

in the target of my rage. Lucky for me, I wasn’t in a killing rage, merely

annoyed with myself at Mary’s escape.

The blade impaled itself in my lower back, puncturing a vital organ

or two. I dropped to my knees and let out a shriek of pain. Silver spots dotted

my vision, but I shook them away. Do not pass out, I ordered. My stomach

rolled threatening to spill its contents onto ground.

On the other side of the room, Sid stopped yanking on the ninja

sword plastered to the wall. He took a few tentative steps toward me. “A man

who lives by the sword….”

That was it. No more stupid sayings or Zen bullshit. With blood-

soaked hands, I twisted around and grabbed the hilt of Tyrfing pulling with

all my might.

182

Laughter, deep and rich, echoed inside my pain-fogged brain. Sid

was fucking laughing at me. My rage intensified. Come on, I thought as I

tugged at Tyrfing. Give me a freaking break.

By this time, tears streamed down both my and Sid’s face. Mine were

tears of frustrated anger. The story of my life. Sid’s, on the other hand, were

of malicious humor. A humor deeply ingrained in the psyche of America, but

unheard of in Buddhist circles.

He laughed and laughed, hands clutching his fat sides. He laughed so

hard that he dropped to the ground and began rolling from side-to-side.

Suffice it to say, I pulled on Tyrfing that much harder. Killing Sid

had moved from unavoidable to my one and only goal. Rage kept me alive

and focused. The pain softened, turning to a cold burn. With one final tug,

Tyrfing popped free of my right kidney, and clattered to the floor. A sound

drowned out by Sid’s giggles and rapid floor rolling.

Using the sword for support, I struggled to my feet, blood showering

my boots. Once upright, I raised Tyrfing with my last shred of strength.

Crash.

Sid disappeared before my eyes.

183

Fifty Eight

Twerp.

I blinked, trying to make sense of what was in front of me. Blood

loss had clearly affected my higher mental functions. If I wasn’t

hallucinating, a ten-foot high statue of Buddha had just crushed Sid.

Twerp.

I took a step closer to the mountain of smashed Buddha, and a much

flatter version of my archenemy. Laughter hadn’t been the best medicine for

good, old Sid. He’d laughed so hard he’d knocked the iconic statue of

Buddha onto his fat head. A bit of irony there, but I was too exhausted to

figure it out.

Twerp.

I recognized the sound of my cell phone, pulled it out, and checked

the caller ID. Shit. “Hey, Mom. I can’t talk right now,” I answered seconds

before crashing face first to the floor, unconscious.

~ * ~

“Jerk.” Lilith slapped my cheek.

I cracked an eyelid, quickly closing it again. The glare of hospital

light, stench of disinfectant, and blinding pain in my back told me all I

needed to know.

I was alive.

Sid wasn’t.

Score one for Jace.

“Hey.” Lilith shook my shoulder. “Don’t you dare go back to sleep

on me.”

“Water,” I croaked through dry, cracked lips. My limbs felt weak,

unused, muscles atrophied. How long was I out? The smooth plastic of a

straw touched my lips, and all thoughts of time slipped away. Greedily, I

sucked up the cold water until the slurp of an empty cup echoed in the

hospital room.

Opening my eyes the second time proved a little easier. Lilith sat in a

high-backed chair next to my hospital bed, the whirl of machines and air

184

compressors surrounding her. Her hair was longer. Her face fuller. She

looked more beautiful than ever.

I swallowed. “I asked for Jack Daniels and water.”

She laughed, relief flooding the exhaustion in her eyes. “I’ll get it

right the next time.” She paused, brushing my hair from my forehead. “You

had me worried.”

“I’m sorry.”

She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“For a lot of things.” I licked my lips. The drugging for one thing.

Fucking Mary for another. The list went on and on, but now didn’t seem like

the time to bring up past sins.

Her smile slipped. “The doctors swore you wouldn’t make it. That I

should say goodbye, but I knew you’d come back.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because there is no place you’d be safe. Heaven or hell, I’d find you

and kick your ass.”

And she would too. That was one of the things I loved about Lilith.

She’d walk through the fires of hell for revenge, and for me. There wasn’t

another person alive willing to sacrifice themselves for me. Speaking of

sacrifices….

“The kid’s safe, right? I did my job.” I glanced around the room

searching for telltale signs of the Messiah. A scribbled coloring book of

messy crayon art hung on the wall, and a box of cat chow sat in the corner.

But no sign of the actual kid.

“He’s fine.” She grinned. “He had a slight reaction to the medication,

but the doctor promised his hair will grow back. He looks like a bowling ball,

bald-headed and round.”

“Medicine? For what?” I scratched my beard. Beard? When had I

grown a beard? “Did the kid get hurt when the statue fell?”

“Oh, baby,” Lilith whispered, caressing my cheek. “You don’t

remember anything, do you?”

I shook my head. The last thing I remembered was a much flatter

version of Sid and a bloody Tyrfing in my hands.

“When I found you, you’d lost so much blood,” Lilith said, tears

sparkling on her lashes. “Jesus was sitting in a pool of red next to you, a river

of tears streaming down his cheeks, trying again and again to heal you. But

he couldn’t.” Her voice hitched and a small choked cry burst from her throat.

“At first I thought you were dead...”

I wiped the tears from her face. “It’s okay.”

“The doctors told us you needed a kidney. Tyrfing had severed your

right one, and your other kidney was damaged in the war.”

“Yeah, I took some shrapnel in the side, but the medics were much

more concerned with my head wound.” I laughed. “I guess I really do have

nine lives. So they found a donor? One of my brothers?”

185

“Not exactly.” She squeezed my hand. “You have an extremely rare

blood type. The hospital had never treated a patient with it before. Some of

the doctors had never even heard of it.”

“I’m a marvel of modern science.” I grinned. “Can’t say I’m glad

about that. Too much pressure.”

“They searched for months to find a donor kidney, keeping you on

dialysis and in a coma until two weeks ago when they found a perfect

match.”

Months? I’d been in a coma for MONTHS? That explained the

beard, and my need to pee. What had I missed? Had the Rangers won the

Stanley Cup? Had world peace been declared? Had Lilith found another

man? A better man?

I sighed. For better or worse, I’d find it out soon enough. “Don’t

keep me in suspense. Whose kidney do I have? Is it someone rich and

famous? Incredibly handsome maybe?”

She rolled her eyes. “Jesus.”

“Come on, tell me.”

She shook her head. “I just did. You are the proud owner of Jesus’s

kidney. His right kidney to be more precise.”

186

Fifty Nine

My head dropped onto my pillow and I closed my eyes. The kid had

sacrificed his kidney for me, to save me. I owed him my life. I shook my

head. Everything I hadn’t wanted for him I’d forced upon him. As grateful as

I was to be alive, I hated knowing he’d suffered for me.

Lilith shot me a crooked smile. “If it makes you feel any better God

was against it. He even threatened to ground Jesus, but the kid was adamant.

He really looks up to you.”

“Yeah, I’m a great role model.” I pushed myself up. The stitches in

my back pulled tight, but the pain was manageable. “Listen, I need to tell you

something. I should’ve said it months ago...”


Jace!
” My mom threw open the hospital room door. It bounced off

the wall, but Joe, my stepfather, caught it before it slammed back in her face.

“Oh honey, I’m so glad to see you up.” Mom pushed her way to my

side. She wore jeans and a white sweater, a fuzzy black cat decorating it. Her

gray hair was cut short, motherly, but the sparkle in her amber eyes told

stories of a naughty past. “My poor little guy. Poor sweet ba—”

“Stop fussing.” I added to soften the order, “Whether you believe it

or not, I’m not two anymore. I can take care of myself.” To prove it, I fluffed

my pillow grimacing in pain the whole time, but stubbornly refused to admit

it.

Joe, looking more like a gangster than a farmer in a polyester suit and

wing-tipped shoes, took the opportunity to slap me on the shoulder while

shoving a cigar in my hand. “Congratulations, son. Your mother and I are

thrilled.”

Congratulations? Thrilled? Oh shit, had Lilith told them about

Mary’s love child? “I… ah…” I stammered.

My mom beamed, her eyes filled with happiness. “Do you know that

this sweet girl,” she pointed at Lilith, who had never described herself as

sweet nor a girl, “stayed at your side this whole time. We had to beg her to

take care of herself. For the baby’s sake.”

Baby? What the fuck was going on? “Yeah, Lilith’s a gem.” I nodded

my head in her direction. “Can I talk to you in private?”

187

Mom and Joe exchanged a knowing glance. “Sure, honey. We’ll be

right outside.”

After the door closed behind them, I faced Lilith. “Is there anything

you wanna tell me? Like how my parents know about Mary?”

“No.”

I ran a hand over my beard. “Tell me anyway.”

“Fine.” She blew out a breath. “But you’re not going to like it.”

My eyes followed the rise and fall of her significantly larger than I

remembered breasts. The blood, once filling my brain, slipped south.

“They aren’t talking about—” she began, licking her full, red lips.

“Never mind. Come over here.” I crooked my finger at her. Fantasies

of hospital bed sex and sponge baths swirled in my head, replacing any

thoughts of Mary, my parents, or my Jesus kidney. I wanted Lilith. Had to

have her, right here, and right now, or I’d lose my mind. Maybe I’d already

lost it.

Her smile warmed, turning seductive. She stretched, her shirt pulling

tight across puckered nipples, and she rose from the chair. My eyes caressed

her bare shoulders, the tight fabric crushing her breasts, and slipped lower, to

the enormous beach ball growing out of her middle.

Fuck. All my nasty thoughts vanished, and for a second or two, I

stopped breathing. The heart monitor next to me screeched in warning.

“Jesus,” I yelled. “Cupid wasn’t lying. The son of Satan knocked you

up...” Bile climbed into my throat when I thought about the night of

debasement and debauchery Lilith and I had shared. I’d fucked a pregnant

woman, and in such degrading ways. What kind of low-life did that?

Smack. A red, stinging handprint formed on my naked chest. Lilith

pulled her hand back, preparing for a punch. I grabbed her fist seconds before

contact.

“Stop it.” I uncurled her hand with my fingers. “You’re going to hurt

yourself or the baby. Mothers-to-be should stay calm.” The advice sounded

right, but what did I know?

Lilith pulled her hand away and let out a scream. “You make me

crazy, you know that? One minute you’re such an asshole I want to strangle

you, and the next, you’re Prince Fucking Charming.”

“Like you’re a picnic to live with,” I mumbled. “When’s the baby

due?”

If she heard my first comment, she decided to let it go. Instead, she

said, “Early November.”

“Good.” I blinked and rubbed my forehead. “What month is it now?”

She shook her head. “October.”

Right. That explained the zombie decorations. I thought the doctors

were just being dicks, seeing as I was in the coma ward. “Does Samuel

know?”

“Probably.” Her brow furrowed. “He does own a calendar.”

188

Bitch. “I meant does he know about the pregnancy?”

This time her confusion appeared genuine. “Why would I tell

BOOK: Holy Socks And Dirtier Demons
9.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Emerald Prince by Brit Darby
IMMORTAL MATCHMAKERS, INC. by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
Starfields by Carolyn Marsden
Primal Cravings by Susan Sizemore
Hit for Six by David Warner
The Cryo Killer by Jason Werbeloff
Vengeance by Shara Azod