Page 77 of Demons & Damnation

!WARNING!

An elemental witch cannot be threatened, coerced, or forced in any manner to aid any member of the order. All actions must be fully of their own choosing. If a situation arises where an elemental is a part of such a task, ‘A’ will need to be capable of controlling and harnessing the raw, wild power of the elemental. Failure is almost certain. Destruction of the elemental is also a distinct possibility.

Balthazar’s heart stopped dead. The penny dropped as to what exactly Mildred was up to. He ran to Azazel, grabbed his arm, and as Azazel was mid-sentence describing how he would eviscerate the old maid, Balthazar ferried them out of there in a protective layer of ectoplasm.

Travelling them across town to the woods surrounding Sam’s house, Balthazar closed the portal, leaving both of them covered in white goo.

“What the fuck...?” Azazel said, scraping the sticky substance off his face. “You know I hate this stuff!”

Ignoring his brother’s curses, Balthazar smacked him around the back of his head. “Did you want her to track where we went? Shut up and actually pay attention to that damn book you absorbed. Page sixty-six.”

Azazel, with a handful of ectoplasm, flicked it all in his sibling’s face as he raced through the details Balthazar had just realised the complexity of.

“I see,” Azazel said, moments later. “That could be quite problematic.”

Balthazar gave him a withering look. He then raised each hand in the air and rubbed his thumbs over each fingertip several times. Slowly separating his fingers apart, a tennis ball sized hole appeared in front of each hand. Almost immediately, a haze of shimmering blue and yellow colours flooded through each mini portal. The two sparkling masses joined together before moving around Balthazar’s body like a bee hunting for pollen.

“Creepy little mofos,” Azazel said, shuddering. “Still don’t understand how you can have them all around you like that. Urgh.”

As the hundreds of tiny pixies hovered around Balthazar like pea-sized blue and yellow honeybees, they sucked his skin and clothes dry of the disgusting ectoplasm. In less than twenty seconds, he was sparkling clean with the pleasant aroma of peppermint emanating from him.

Balthazar laughed. “Because they absolutely love the stuff, it helps them with their fruit farms, and it creates good allegiances.”

Azazel muttered to himself about spiders and pixies being from the same alien planet as he used his own method of cleaning. He stripped his clothes off and then held his right palm above his head like a shower head. A fine mist of water fell from his hand and as each droplet touched his bronzed skin, it tripled in size. As the water slid down his body, it cut through the goo like a hot knife through butter.

“Some warning might be nice,” Balthazar said, scowling and turning away from his naked brother. “Or maybe just using the pixies, Azazel. For goodness sake.”

Grinning to himself at annoying his brother, Azazel took a second to debate a mid-afternoon ‘treat’ in his handmade shower.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Balthazar said, all but growling at him.

“What?” Azazel replied, looking down to make sure he was clean in the most important place. “It’s been a while. We’ve been here nearly a week already and I’ve had no action. None. That’s a record for me, Balti, and not one that I’m proud of either.”

“Can we perhaps focus on the task in hand please?”

Flicking his hand dry of water, Azazel took his left hand and stroked it over his skin. The warm heat from his palm dried him as if it were a hair dryer. As he debated what clothes to produce, Balthazar threw a pair of dark denim jeans and a white cotton shirt over his shoulder at his naked brother. He couldn’t bear to be this close to Azazel in his birthday suit a second longer.

“The task in hand?” Azazel asked, checking out the clothes his brother threw him. “Oh, you mean going after the elemental witch that could essentially banish us to Hell for all eternity? Or trying to stop the crackpot ghost witch, whatever she is, that’s trying to perform some sort of weird resurrection thing?”

“Both, actually.”

Azazel pulled the clothes on and grumbled. “Why? Aren’t we supposed to enjoy watching catastrophes unfold? We’re demons, remember. Not Batman and Robin.”

“Well,” Balthazar said, daring to open one eye to check on his brother’s state of dress. “Today, we are. Deal with it.”

Jade green eyes lit up with excitement. “Does that mean I get to drive—”

“No.”

“But—”

Balthazar sighed. “Do you not think it’s going to be difficult enough to keep the current goings on under wraps without driving around in the bat-mobile, Azazel?”

“But that’s what compulsion is for.”

“No. Compulsion is only to be used in dire circumstances if our identity is compromised.”

Azazel grinned. “To you, maybe.” When he saw his sibling’s eyes narrow, he sighed and tutted. “Alright, so ‘powers of persuasion’ then.”

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