Mercy for the Wicked (7 page)

Darting another look at him, I saw he watched me intently, his dark eyes locking with mine.  Stopping in my tracks, a ribbon of panic went through me as he came to a standstill as well, and very slowly, his lips curved up into a smile.  I was officially creeped out… A closer look confirmed it, he had no visible aura whatsoever. 

Tall, dark and creepy was definitely a demon.

The restaurant door opened, and a chattering party of four came out, arguing over the benefits and liabilities of cloth napkins over paper ones.  Seizing the distraction, I ran for the door, not caring if I looked like a crazy person as I zipped in behind them.  Throwing the hostess a sheepish grin, I held up two fingers, keeping an eye on the door. 

While she turned around to grab a couple of menus, my tall friend entered the restaurant.  His head tilted to the air as he sniffed the strong cooking smells wafting from the kitchen, but his eyes returned to me as he licked his lips.  “Adamiel…” I breathed, calling him out of habit, but I knew he wouldn’t come. 

“Samael,” I tried again, that time a little louder, and the hostess turned around with an inquiring look on her face.  “I’m sorry, I’m waiting for a friend, Samael.  Can I wait in the bar until he arrives?”  Luckily, it was a normal enough request and she didn’t look twice at me for having suggested it. 

The bar was sparsely populated, and I started to think it was a mistake in going there, but surely the demon wouldn’t attack me in plain sight of others, would he?  “Samael, where are you?” I asked into the air, waving off the bartender who came when I spoke.  The last thing I needed was a drink clouding my thoughts. 

“Why you don’t call Adamiel?” The demon asked, sliding onto the barstool next to me, spinning first one way and then the other, as if he’d never sat on a swiveling barstool before.  His voice was low and gravely, as if he had trouble forming words in English.

“What makes you think I haven’t already?” I challenged, eager to keep him talking, anything to stall him until help arrived.  He laughed, a chortling sound, and I saw the sharp teeth.

“Adamiel already be here if coming.  That one fast.”

“He happens to be busy at the moment,” I replied loftily. “But he’s not the only friend I have.”

“Ubel no afraid of Samael.”  His chest puffed out as his fist thumped against it.

“You should be,” Sam joined in the conversation.  Only he bore very little resemblance to the Sam I had come to know and love.  Gone was the clueless, puppydog expression, his voice full of barely controlled menace.  Dressed in a dark, slim fitting, long sleeved shirt and black pants, he looked absolutely lethal.  Apparently, Ubel thought so too, his eyes widened to the size of saucers.  He nearly broke the barstool in getting to his feet, but his words were full of bravado. 

“Ubel no afraid.  Fight Samael and take Mercy.”  His lips peeled back from the gruesomely sharp teeth to reveal his wicked smile.

“There is no mercy for you here, Imp.  Begone or you will taste the end of my blade.”  Sam’s voice was low and dangerous, but there was no sign of the sword just yet.  I took a quick peek around the bar and noticed a few of the patrons watching us curiously.  Whatever they did, I hoped it didn’t cause a big scene.  I was already keenly aware of the fact I had started to glow faintly, my Grace sensing my fear and readying to protect me.

“Ubel take Mercy for Raum.  Then Ubel feast,” he chortled, and something about the way he said feast made me think he spoke about having me for the main course.  No longer in the least bit interested in dinner, my stomach clenched into a hard knot, but Sam looked cool as a cucumber.  

“Mercy, perhaps you should leave, I can easily handle this miscreant.”

“I think maybe that’s a good idea…” I started to edge towards the exit, but Ubel’s hand snaked out to grab my arm.  His fingers barely brushed against my skin when he was whipped away, picked up and thrown bodily to slam against the top of the bar, Sam’s hand firm against his throat.  All so fast it took no more than the blink of an eye. 

“Hey…” The bartender started our way but stopped in his tracks when Sam looked up and met his gaze.  “Take it easy, buddy,” he added from a safe distance.

Returning his attention to the demon he held easily pinned to the bar, Sam’s expression became serene and without malice, which was almost kinda scarier.  “I gave you a chance to walk away, Imp, but you have been tried by your actions.  I judge thee, unclean thing.  I abjure thee, and cast thee into the cleansing fires of hell.”  His hand started to glow and Ubel’s mouth fell open with a horrible gurgle. 

“Uh, Sam…?” I was almost afraid to interrupt, but everyone was staring.  “Are you sure that’s such a good idea,
right here
?”

“It won’t take but a moment, Mercy.  It must be done.”

Then I did touch his arm, and I could feel my Grace reaching out to his in calm, soothing waves.  “Samael… this isn’t the place and time.  They can
see
you.”  For long seconds I worried I wasn’t getting through to him, but then he looked up and I saw my Sam gazing back at me, traces of guilt in his expression. 

“I’m sorry, I forgot.”  Easing up on his hold, he pulled Ubel down off the bar, but kept one hand clamped tight to his shoulder. 

“Let Ubel go,” the demon whined. “Ubel leave Mercy alone.”  It was pathetic coming from such a big man, but before I could say more, I saw Ben standing in the doorway to the bar entrance.

“Oh no…” I breathed, knowing he’d probably blow a gasket when he saw what was going on.  “Sam, you’d better…”

“I’m right on top of it,” Sam nodded, hauling Ubel towards the back door, just as Ben spotted us and started over. 

For once, I didn’t have to come up with a lame excuse as to what had happened, but I also didn’t exactly feel like sticking around and ordering dinner anymore either. 

“Hey, is everything alright?” Ben asked, his brow already furrowed with worry.

“Yeah, it is now.” I leaned in to kiss his cheek.  “Luckily, Sam was around and took care of it.”  Immediately I saw I’d made a mistake in using those words. 
He
wanted to be the one to save the day.   But what was I supposed to do, let every demon in town have a taste so Ben could act the hero?

“Was that the Azazael guy?”

“No, that was something else.” I had to admit, and it was obvious that wasn’t what he wanted to hear either.    

“You’re killing me…”

“It’s not my fault,” I grumbled.  After all, it wasn’t my idea to be attacked in public. 

Ben softened his tone, rubbing my back soothingly.  “Maybe you’d better tell me what’s going on now?”  I nodded, leading him from the restaurant, to the relief of the management.  I can never go there again, you know.  Not that it’s such a terrible problem in the grand scheme of things, but they had great fajitas, I’m just saying.

On the way back to my apartment, I told him all about the demon lord who wanted to bring me back to his place for a little Grace buffet.  I have to say, Ben absorbed the news fairly well.  I had half expected him to demand I move in with him or get a permanent police escort, but he only nodded, deep in thought. 

“What will Sam do to that guy?” he asked finally, when we were inside my apartment. 

“I’m not sure,” I frowned. “He was going on about damnation and fiery pits of hell and all that jazz.  So, whatever it is, it’s not a vacation.”

“He can do that?”  All I could do was shrug; it wasn’t anything we’d talked about before. I made a mental note to add it to my growing list of questions for Sam.  “I’m just glad you’re alright.” He pressed a kiss to my temple and I gave him a grateful smile for being so understanding.

“Me too.  This wasn’t exactly how I thought our night out would go, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Oh, and how did you think our night would go?”  Ben wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close.  “I thought we might end up somewhere right… about… here.” 

Leaning in to his kiss, I let myself forget about all the ugly things out there after me.  I took solace in the feel of his lips on mine, his familiar scent, the way he made me feel.  Safe and secure… until I realized - that’s exactly what Azazael would want me to feel.  Even though I was about ninety-nine percent positive it was actually Ben I was kissing, that niggling doubt pushed its way deeper into my thoughts, until I pulled my mouth from his, unable to let things go any farther.

“What’s wrong?” He frowned at catching my expression and I scrambled to change the subject.

“Nothing… I’m hungry, aren’t you?” 

“I thought that was pretty obvious,” he grinned, hands still resting on my hips. 

“No, I mean, we skipped dinner.  I could whip us up something pretty quick or we could send out for pizza.  What sounds good to you?”  It was pretty obvious food wasn’t on his mind, but Ben let go of me with a sigh, moving to sit on one of the barstools while I made us a simple meal.  It went like that for the rest of the night.  Ben would make a romantic overture and I’d hesitate or pull away before things got too intimate.

I wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d gone home for the night, but he stuck by me, falling asleep beside me without pressuring for more.  Sleep wouldn’t come for me, no matter what I tried.  The idea that it might not actually be Ben sleeping next to me sent me out to lie on the couch with a book and a soft, fuzzy blanket, hoping to distract my overactive imagination into letting go. 

* * *

It was late when my cell phone rang.  I might not have even noticed if I’d been asleep, my phone automatically went to silent at eleven o’clock.  The number on the screen flashed as ‘restricted’, but I answered it anyway. 

“Hello?”  There was no answer, but the line remained open, and I could tell someone was on the other side.  “Hello,” I repeated softly. “Is anybody there?”  All at once I had the strangest feeling… “Adam?  Is that you?”  With a click, the line went dead, a strong confirmation in my books. 

Maybe it was because I’d called him earlier that night, maybe he wanted to know I was alright.  Maybe I was being a total idiot and it was only a wrong number.  The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became it was Adam reaching out to me.  Deciding it couldn’t hurt to try it, I pulled up the recent call log.  More than likely whoever was on the other side would be annoyed to have me call back at such a late hour, but I still hit the button, holding my breath as I waited to see who would pick up. 

The line clicked on, but no one said anything.  “Adam?” I tried again, “it’s me.”  Still, no one replied, but neither did they hang up, and I took that as a good sign.  I probably should have hung up, but instead I couldn’t help myself.  “I’ll bet you’re wondering why I called for you tonight.  I’m okay,” I began, as though he’d answered me.  For no particular reason, I went on to give a little summary of what went down in the bar at La Hacienda, leaving out any references to angels or demons, trusting he’d know what was going on by the players involved.  I could almost imagine him listening to me, the eye roll that would come from my describing Sam as menacing.  After I was done telling him about that, I talked about how things were going at work, with Matty and Daphne, my visit with Sam; pretty much everything except for Ben and me.  It was probably the strangest wrong number that caller ever got before, but it made me feel closer to Adam, even if it was more imagined than real.  When I talked myself out, I sat there with that open connection, in the darkness of my apartment.  “Are you still there?” I asked at long length, and was greeted with the click of the lost call.  Unwilling to let it go without getting a final goodbye in, I sent a text, *goodnight*.   I needed that little bit of closure.  After several minutes, my phone flashed with an incoming text message. 

*Goodnight Mercy*

Chapter Five

I settled into my new routine without too many wrinkles in the plan.  During the day I was fairly safe as long as I stuck to my apartment or crowded, public places.  Sam apologized for giving me the impression that demons required absolute darkness to move around the earth.  Apparently they preferred the darkness, sticking to shadows whenever possible and direct sunlight made them uncomfortable, but they didn’t turn into a pile of dust like vampires, unfortunately.  My biggest early warning device against them was the lack of an aura, and it became a regular pastime for me to check auras before I even checked faces whenever someone approached. 

Ben stuck to me like glue whenever he was off duty, and Sam took over on nights I had to work.  He became a regular fixture in the late hours at Eden.  It got so that the only place I was guaranteed a little privacy was in the bathtub, but even then I usually had Mimsy as a companion, given her obsession with bubbles. 

I was willing to trade a little bit of privacy in order to keep from being demon food.  Azazael hadn’t made a single move so far that I was aware of.  No more strange dreams and no unusual visitors, until one early evening when Daphne came into the club for a drink, an unfamiliar face following close behind. 

“Hey, Daph,” I smiled in greeting, sliding over her favorite drink, “Who’s your friend?”

“Hi Mercy, this is Mitch.  Mitch, you’d better be nice to Mercy, she’s my best friend.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” he grinned, revealing very even, very white teeth.  Mitch was a good looking guy overall.  His hair was a little long for my tastes, and I liked my men clean shaven (he had a serious case of nine o’clock shadow), but I could see what attracted her. 

“Keep an eye on him for me, I’m gonna hit the ladies room.”

“I can’t make any promises, I am working,” I smiled back at her, but it was slow enough I had time to chat.  The music was loud as usual, and I leaned over a little to make sure he could hear me.  “What can I get you, Mitch?”

“How about a long, slow, comfortable screw?” His smile grew cheesy, like he thought he’d made the funniest joke on the planet.

Oh great, he was one of those
.  We usually got at least one a night, some guy ordering a blow job and then patting his lap when I showed up with the drink.  So far Parker wasn’t too keen on me dumping the drink in their laps, so I put on a tight smile, standing back up straight so he couldn’t see down my top.  Our work uniforms weren’t super revealing, a black vest paired with a black skirt.   Well, it could be revealing, if I left a button or two open or shortened my skirt like some of the waitresses did.  But I had to bend and reach for things a lot as a bartender, so I tried not to push the boundaries of good taste.  “One screw, coming up.”  I had to say I liked Jake better than Mitch, and I wondered what had happened with him?  They’d been getting along great the last I heard.   “So, how do you know Daphne?”