payphone.
~ * ~
After my conversation with Mary, an annoyed Lilith and I cruised the
Lower East Side searching for the perfect weapon to defeat an army of
unknown kidnappers. We stopped at gun shops, aromatherapy boutiques, and
an odd strip club or two. Don’t ask me why. This was Lilith’s show. I merely
provided morality support.
An hour after our search began, we entered The Divine Comedy
Pawnshop & Bass emporium. Sadly, the place resembled neither a wharf nor
hell. It did however stink of marijuana, and beer battered onions.
From floor to ceiling worthless crap teetered like drunken children. A
greasy, dark-skinned mobster armed with a steak knife and a chicken wing
slouched behind the counter.
“Here? Really?” I gestured inside. “We’re more likely to find Jimmy
Hoffa then a supernatural weapon.”
Lilith grinned, but sauntered to the register. “Hey, Dante. How’s
business?”
“Can’t complain, doll.” The doll sounded affected, as did the rest of
his accent. I listened closer, trying to pinpoint his nationality. East Indian, I
guessed.
He sucked on a chicken wing, and smacked his large lips. “Are you
looking for something special? Or did you come around to show off your
new man?”
“A little of both.” Her eyes met mine. “Twirl for the nice man,
Jacey.” I cracked my knuckles but did a three-sixty as she asked.
“What is he?” Dante stroked his chin, weighing me like cattle.
“Human,” Lilith snapped out. “A shame really, but what can you
do?”
“He doesn’t look human.”
Now wait a minute, I looked plenty human, and in fact I was human.
What did a fake mobster from the third circle of hell know about it?
“Trust me, Dante. Jace is as fallibly human as man gets.” Lilith
laughed, clicking her fingers in front of Dante’s face. “Stop ogling my man,
and help me find the perfect weapon.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What type of game are you hunting?”
Lilith leaned in and whispered in his ear. Dante’s face whitened. He
shook his head, and Lilith nodded, gesturing wildly. I titled my head, hoping
73
to catch a word or two of their conversation. I did, but they might as well
have been talking Swahili. Hell for all I knew it was Swahili. Clicks, grunts,
and groans spewed from Lilith’s mouth, but somehow sounded sexy.
Dante glanced around Lilith to glare at me. “I have just the thing,” he
said to her. He disappeared behind a stack of junk, hard to do for a fat man
but he managed. In his wake, a rumble reverberated through the room,
sending up clouds of dust mites.
I waved away the toxic air. “Lilith, what aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing that changes the outcome.” She gave me a sad smile, as if
fate sealed our destiny. “We must find J.C., and slay the dragon. If that
means one of us dies, so be it.”
So be it? I didn’t fucking think so. I had important things to
accomplish before my time ran out, not that I could name a damn one at the
moment. I rubbed my chin. “Care to give me a hint about which one of us
bites the bullet?”
“Would you believe me either way?”
She had a point. Before I could respond, Dante crawled from the
trash pile, a cloth wrapped sword clutched in his pudgy hands. He unwound
the cloth, careful not to touch the weapon. The hilt of the weapon gleamed
with gold, and its sheath shined like fire.
Lilith raised an eyebrow. “Tyrfing? You can’t be serious.”
Dante frowned. “It is the perfect weapon. One, even a mortal,” he
sneered at me, “cannot miss with. Besides, it is the only weapon that can kill
angels, devils and mortals alike.”
“Of that I have no doubt, but…”
“Pish. You don’t believe that old legend?” He waved a flabby fist.
“I’ve used it plenty of times and I’m still alive.”
She smiled. “Pick it up then.”
“Is that my phone?” Dante disappeared into the back of the shop to
answer his non-existent phone.
I moved to stand next to Lilith
~ * ~
After my conversation with Mary, an annoyed Lilith and I cruised the
Lower East Side searching for the perfect weapon to defeat an army of
unknown kidnappers. We stopped at gun shops, aromatherapy boutiques, and
an odd strip club or two. Don’t ask me why. This was Lilith’s show. I merely
provided morality support.
An hour after our search began, we entered The Divine Comedy
Pawnshop & Bass emporium. Sadly, the place resembled neither a wharf nor
hell. It did however stink of marijuana, and beer battered onions.
From floor to ceiling worthless crap teetered like drunken children. A
greasy, dark-skinned mobster armed with a steak knife and a chicken wing
slouched behind the counter.
“Here? Really?” I gestured inside. “We’re more likely to find Jimmy
Hoffa then a supernatural weapon.”
Lilith grinned, but sauntered to the register. “Hey, Dante. How’s
business?”
“Can’t complain, doll.” The doll sounded affected, as did the rest of
his accent. I listened closer, trying to pinpoint his nationality. East Indian, I
guessed.
He sucked on a chicken wing, and smacked his large lips. “Are you
looking for something special? Or did you come around to show off your
new man?”
“A little of both.” Her eyes met mine. “Twirl for the nice man,
Jacey.” I cracked my knuckles but did a three-sixty as she asked.
“What is he?” Dante stroked his chin, weighing me like cattle.
“Human,” Lilith snapped out. “A shame really, but what can you
do?”
“He doesn’t look human.”
Now wait a minute, I looked plenty human, and in fact I was human.
What did a fake mobster from the third circle of hell know about it?
“Trust me, Dante. Jace is as fallibly human as man gets.” Lilith
laughed, clicking her fingers in front of Dante’s face. “Stop ogling my man,
and help me find the perfect weapon.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What type of game are you hunting?”
Lilith leaned in and whispered in his ear. Dante’s face whitened. He
shook his head, and Lilith nodded, gesturing wildly. I titled my head, hoping
73
to catch a word or two of their conversation. I did, but they might as well
have been talking Swahili. Hell for all I knew it was Swahili. Clicks, grunts,
and groans spewed from Lilith’s mouth, but somehow sounded sexy.
Dante glanced around Lilith to glare at me. “I have just the thing,” he
said to her. He disappeared behind a stack of junk, hard to do for a fat man
but he managed. In his wake, a rumble reverberated through the room,
sending up clouds of dust mites.
I waved away the toxic air. “Lilith, what aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing that changes the outcome.” She gave me a sad smile, as if
fate sealed our destiny. “We must find J.C., and slay the dragon. If that
means one of us dies, so be it.”
So be it? I didn’t fucking think so. I had important things to
accomplish before my time ran out, not that I could name a damn one at the
moment. I rubbed my chin. “Care to give me a hint about which one of us
bites the bullet?”
“Would you believe me either way?”
She had a point. Before I could respond, Dante crawled from the
trash pile, a cloth wrapped sword clutched in his pudgy hands. He unwound
the cloth, careful not to touch the weapon. The hilt of the weapon gleamed
with gold, and its sheath shined like fire.
Lilith raised an eyebrow. “Tyrfing? You can’t be serious.”
Dante frowned. “It is the perfect weapon. One, even a mortal,” he
sneered at me, “cannot miss with. Besides, it is the only weapon that can kill
angels, devils and mortals alike.”
“Of that I have no doubt, but…”
“Pish. You don’t believe that old legend?” He waved a flabby fist.
“I’ve used it plenty of times and I’m still alive.”
She smiled. “Pick it up then.”
“Is that my phone?” Dante disappeared into the back of the shop to
answer his non-existent phone.
I moved to stand next to Lilith
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