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“Damien, you can’t do this to me.” Her brown eyes, outlined with heavy eyeliner, filled with tears. “I need this job.”
“Don’t play the needy-woman card with me. For fuck’s sake, you call yourself Motherfucker. Doesn’t sound so helpless. Or have I got it all wrong? Are you a weak, powerless woman who needs my store because she cannot make her own way in the world?”
Ha! That should get her to leave,he thought.
MF stomped her foot. “My family was murdered by the vampire who turned me. Did you know that? Did you know I’ve been living on the streets ever since? Do you know what that’s like? No home. No family. No friends. And a thirst for blood. I was a goddamned vegetarian before all this! And then I turned human again, but no one would give me a chance. So now I’m here, working harder for you than I ever have in my entire life, and you want to shut this down?”
She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. At least she’d spared her clothes. “I’m not helpless. I’mdesperate. And, for the record, my name isn’t Motherfucker. My parents were hippies. It’s Mountain Flower!” MF turned and stormed out the front door. “Asshole!” she yelled from the street.
A loud snicker erupted from the little bed near the window.
“Shut up, Bonbon.” He bet the little furball was enjoying this drama. “And before you say another word, I found you a mate. You’ll meet her tonight at my place. And then you and she will fuck off and get the hell out of my life.” Damien turned to leave out the back. “And lock the doors.”
“Hey! How am I getting to your house? And what’s her name?” Bonbon bellowed as Damien pushed his way outside.
“Take the damned bus. And her name is…just as ridiculous as yours.”
Who names a demon after cheese, anyway?
After all that drama, Damien drove around to cool off before heading to meet the gods at some building downtown. He didn’t know what to expect, but he was prepared for their wrath.
In the space of three days, Damien had not found even a shred of worthwhile information; however, he had managed to murder an innocent woman, become haunted by her ghost, get blown up, die, return, be spied on while he masturbated in his sleep, have his store taken over by a nipple-flashing ex-vampire, have his guilty pleasure for sewing Victorian-era dresses exposed to the world, and, to boot, his home had been invaded by unwelcome guests.
Oh. And how could anyone forget? His “Dexter” was back. The sad part was, Damien actually missed the bugger. Or maybe it was more of a feeling of relief? The energy it took, year in, year out, day after day, to suppress the dark soul residing within him was exhausting as hell.
But what would Willamina say if she were still alive? Maybe:“Damien, you can’t give in to him. You know how this ends.”She would tell him not to give up hope, that someday Damien would separate himself from the beast inside.
But he was tired of trying to convince himself that Jekyll could rid himself of Hyde. Damien wanted to be free of the struggle, which meant coming to terms with the facts. He could not change who and what he was. Nor could he go on like this.
Fuck, I need to sew. Maybe some red potholders. Or a shiny black cummerbund. Simple acts calmed his mind and the dark beast. But there was no time.
He parked in the basement of the office building and took the elevator to the fourteenth floor, preparing to explain to fourteen angry deities why he had nothing to show.
Let’s hope this goes less horribly than I imagine.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Damien stepped out of the elevator and was greeted by a dark empty office with gray carpet. No gods. No people. Nothing except two very dusty desks in the middle of the wide-open floor.
Where is everyone?Perhaps he was early? Or late? Did he have the wrong address?
Damien pulled his phone from his pants pocket and checked the message from Cimil. This was the place and the correct time.
He was about to text her when he noticed a bright pink envelope with his name written in black crayon, sitting on top of one of the desks.
Damien picked it up and read the note.
D-Dog,
Sorry we couldn’t be here to meet you, but I must care for Roberto, who broke his leg, back, and five ribs during family checkers night. Our evil spawn can be challenging. And, unfortunately, the other gods have all retired, except K’ak, who is occupied with a minor uprising of evil Mayan priests.
The gods have retired? Can they do that?
Yes, we can do that. I will pop in and check on you in a few weeks. So, my saucy suit-man, looks like you are on your own for a tad. Remember, the entire immortal world is counting on you to bring them back.
Sincerely,
Cimil
