Page 44 of Demon Loved
Of course, the murder ruin the moment by stomping back in seconds later. “I’m hungry,” Raz announces as he collapses onto one side of the leather couch. Kastros sits down on the other side. Van wanders in, phone already open. “Who wants sub sandwiches?”
We all put in orders, and Van goes to hunt down requests from Adam and Akor. When we hear Adam yell, “Peanut butter and jelly!” we all immediately put our hands on our foreheads.
“Not it!” I shout at the same time as Raz and Akor.
Katrina throws her head back and laughs. “Fine. I’ll make his sandwich.”
She’s raised that boy to be a prima donna about his sandwiches. No crust, absolutely perfect balance of jelly to bread with zero spillage, and only precise triangles will do. I swear, the other day, I had to give Jason five sandwiches because King Adam rejected them all.
But even with this quirky annoyance, I can’t help the idea taking shape in my mind that Katrina and Adam are transforming our murder from a demonic force of evil into a family.
And there’s something about that word family that’s infinitely more satisfying than any soul I’ve ever converted. Perhaps because I feel like my soul’s changing as well. Not becoming good (ew, disgusting), but realizing the value of all the things Lucillania’s ever said.
I give Katrina another little squeeze, and she yelps. I’m tempted to tickle her, but I don’t think my sore torso is quite ready for that.
Raz ruins the mood, like he always does, by saying, “We need to talk about how we’re going to get into Heaven.”
I sigh. Family moment over. Back to demon business. Though, in truth, I am fully aware we need to take care of these angelic assholes who’re attacking us. And quickly, too.
Raz glances around at us. “I’m gonna throw up an illusion, okay? So we can kind of get the lay of the land.”
Kastros and I nod. Katrina just waits patiently as Raz raises his hands. A miniature, three-dimensional map unrolls in the room at waist height. Below it is our normal room, but above the map, clouds spring up and a field full of tiny suns that bloom like glowing sunflowers appears.
Katrina gasps in delight. “Oh, I’ve never seen this.”
“Good thing, too,” Raz says. “Some halo humper would have spotted you. This is far closer to God’s house than the other gardens.”
Raz moves his hands, and the image swivels away from the glowing field of “sun” flowers and towards a castle made of pale lavender clouds. The clouds swirl up and around into towers and turrets. Stairs circle the towers in perfectly geometric white steps. Window panes aren’t made of glass, but of glistening, suspended raindrops that don’t quite touch and that glitter and sparkle like diamonds. The roof of each tower is colored gold, like clouds kissed by dawn. It looks like a fairytale castle, even I can admit that.
Katrina gasps and grabs my hand. “It’s so pretty!” she exclaims.
“Don’t be fooled by appearances, love,” I tell her. “It’s the dullest place in all of the universes.” Her lip juts out in a pout, and I sneak a quick kiss, nipping that lip before saying, “No pouting, we need to focus.”
We turn our attention back to the illusion that Raz rotates again. He chews his lip as we look over the back of the castle, where there are at least twenty doors on the bottom floor and angels flow in and out in orderly lines, entering only on the left and exiting only on the right. Beyond the doors and steps is an orderly hedge of perfectly symmetrical asteroids hovering three inches above the cloud floor. From above, it looks as if a Japanese Zen garden and a formal hedge garden had an intergalactic baby. The floating rocks line pathways that lead to asteroids shaped like rings.
“I’ve never been inside, but I know that’s where a lot of their official business takes place,” Raz comments. “Anyone else ever been in the castle?”
Kastros shakes his head, as do I.
Katrina leans forward a little, giving me a great view of her ass and distracting me for a moment as she says, “I see people walking in and out, as well as angels. Who are they?”
I force myself to focus and answer, glancing back over at the map to see the tiny, wingless forms flitting in and out of the doors unobtrusively. “Those are souls of the departed. They get to go in there for super fun assignments like listening to prayers, making candles flicker, ensuring that a grilled cheese looks like a holy appearance of blah blah blah for some Karen out there…” I pull Katrina back down on my lap, relishing the feel of her ass. “In short, nothing you’d be interested in, love.”
She damn well better not be interested in it.
Katrina laughs lightly, and I swear I think all three of us demons get mooney-eyed over that sound. “I don’t want to go there for real. But if we need someone to sneak in…” She trails off and raises a shoulder.
My quiet, shy girl is willing to risk breaking into Heaven for us? I swear it feels like I just won Plinko on the Price is Right.
Shut up, I’ve been stuck at home with nothing but a dozen animals and daytime television for days.
Raz, of course, immediately shuts her down. “No.”
“But why?” Katrina asks, the bastion of innocence.
“Because we’d never risk losing you, love,” I tell her, bopping her nose. Our sweet, silly dove has yet to realize she’s the reason for all things.
“Well, it’s not exactly like you guys can sneak in there,” she counters.
