sees me coming and the athame spins her rotund body about, the pointaimed at my face this time, as she recites spells of protection. She draws a six-pointed star in the air, the moon flashing off the edge of the knife and leaving an after-image behind it. "Come no farther, Black Shuck. I stand at the right hand of Michael, he who is Machen, and Gabriel, he who is Shamain, and Cameol, he who is Machon."
"You point that at me one more time, fatso," I say, "and I'm going to have to stick it in your eye."
Mercy tries to get to her feet but was having a hard time of it, still tapped out from the delirious dancing, a confused expression on her face.
With a sickly war cry, the White Queen rears and lunges at me. She has a lot of horsepower behind her and nearly bowls me over. The athame slashes again leaving a silver moonlit trail behind in my eyes as I feel a sting in my chest. She's nicked me.
She lashes out again and I punch her in the stomach. My fist sinks in six inches. She lets out a sickly, "Ooof!" and drops onto her face. I snatch up the dagger and kick her in her fat ass. The rage is more powerful than the tide, washing over me, drowning me, commanding me.
"Go on back home, lady. You can start looking for new members tomorrow."
She turns over and glares at me. "The spirits dwell inside you."
"If your husband shows up with any of his guns, I'm going to have to kill him. You understand that?"
"Satanus infernus, you're an empty shell animated with disease and malfeasance. Black Shuck. Black Shuck. Do you even realize it? You're inhabited. You're possessed. You're dead. You're long dead."
I've been dead so many times I can't count them anymore. I was killed by my father over and over when I was a boy. On the ward they murdered us by inches with electricity and water. My first night in prison I pulled a seven man train and was left deader than hell. Of course I am as dead as Gary, as dead as Ricky, as dead as Linda. Isn't everybody?
"You're getting on my nerves, lady."
I draw my arm back and smack her in the forehead with the pommel of the blade. It makes a sickening thud but I don't feel her skull fracture beneath the blow. She would probably live.
Then I am finally alone with Mercy.
The grin is still there on her pouty lips, murdering me. It is as much a part of her as anything else. The raven glowers. I want to catch its neck in my teeth.
"How are you feeling?" I ask her.
"Starting to come down a little."
"That's too bad."
"What's happened?" She stares at the White Queen. "What's happening?"
"Just a little mischief."
Her eyes unfocus again, that harlequin smile beginning to flatten out some. I shake her hard and she looks at me, and a subtle snake of fear begins to slither into her expression.
"Only five hundred, huh?" I ask. "You sure you're not selling yourself short?" I open my wallet and toss bills at her. Tens, twenties, singles. I snap my credit cards against her face. "Visa okay?"
"Don't, please–"
Don't, please. I beg the rage to release me. I call for my mother to find the strength to help form beyond the veil. I feel Baphomet at my left hand, Ricky at my right. I call on Gary Lowers to aid me in this time of need, and he refuses. He asks why I never buried him. He asks why I didn't call the police. He asks for his mother as I ask for mine.
I put a hand to the pulse in her neck and say, "Your heart's racing."
"I'm scared. You...you..."
"Don't be afraid, Mercy."
I reach into her wild curls and get my hands around the razor wire. My fingers begin to bleed immediately. I unwind the wreath of barbs and pull it free. She squeals in pain and a pulse of blood arcs against my cheek.
"What are you?" she asks. "Are you...are you Nephilim? Askiel, Uthrick...?
"...Pommerance, Tico-Tico...Bathal, Bathei, Winter's Leg..."
"Are you
"You point that at me one more time, fatso," I say, "and I'm going to have to stick it in your eye."
Mercy tries to get to her feet but was having a hard time of it, still tapped out from the delirious dancing, a confused expression on her face.
With a sickly war cry, the White Queen rears and lunges at me. She has a lot of horsepower behind her and nearly bowls me over. The athame slashes again leaving a silver moonlit trail behind in my eyes as I feel a sting in my chest. She's nicked me.
She lashes out again and I punch her in the stomach. My fist sinks in six inches. She lets out a sickly, "Ooof!" and drops onto her face. I snatch up the dagger and kick her in her fat ass. The rage is more powerful than the tide, washing over me, drowning me, commanding me.
"Go on back home, lady. You can start looking for new members tomorrow."
She turns over and glares at me. "The spirits dwell inside you."
"If your husband shows up with any of his guns, I'm going to have to kill him. You understand that?"
"Satanus infernus, you're an empty shell animated with disease and malfeasance. Black Shuck. Black Shuck. Do you even realize it? You're inhabited. You're possessed. You're dead. You're long dead."
I've been dead so many times I can't count them anymore. I was killed by my father over and over when I was a boy. On the ward they murdered us by inches with electricity and water. My first night in prison I pulled a seven man train and was left deader than hell. Of course I am as dead as Gary, as dead as Ricky, as dead as Linda. Isn't everybody?
"You're getting on my nerves, lady."
I draw my arm back and smack her in the forehead with the pommel of the blade. It makes a sickening thud but I don't feel her skull fracture beneath the blow. She would probably live.
Then I am finally alone with Mercy.
The grin is still there on her pouty lips, murdering me. It is as much a part of her as anything else. The raven glowers. I want to catch its neck in my teeth.
"How are you feeling?" I ask her.
"Starting to come down a little."
"That's too bad."
"What's happened?" She stares at the White Queen. "What's happening?"
"Just a little mischief."
Her eyes unfocus again, that harlequin smile beginning to flatten out some. I shake her hard and she looks at me, and a subtle snake of fear begins to slither into her expression.
"Only five hundred, huh?" I ask. "You sure you're not selling yourself short?" I open my wallet and toss bills at her. Tens, twenties, singles. I snap my credit cards against her face. "Visa okay?"
"Don't, please–"
Don't, please. I beg the rage to release me. I call for my mother to find the strength to help form beyond the veil. I feel Baphomet at my left hand, Ricky at my right. I call on Gary Lowers to aid me in this time of need, and he refuses. He asks why I never buried him. He asks why I didn't call the police. He asks for his mother as I ask for mine.
I put a hand to the pulse in her neck and say, "Your heart's racing."
"I'm scared. You...you..."
"Don't be afraid, Mercy."
I reach into her wild curls and get my hands around the razor wire. My fingers begin to bleed immediately. I unwind the wreath of barbs and pull it free. She squeals in pain and a pulse of blood arcs against my cheek.
"What are you?" she asks. "Are you...are you Nephilim? Askiel, Uthrick...?
"...Pommerance, Tico-Tico...Bathal, Bathei, Winter's Leg..."
"Are you
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