Hellblazer
Worth His Salt
Chapter Two
Disclaimer: Characters belong to others...I am playing with them, and I will give them back when I am done.
Iris noticed her audience lost some of their bravado with the icy blast. She lifted John's shoulders back onto her lap. The demon would think twice before tormenting him any further. At least she hoped so. In the dark, she relied on her other senses to tell her what the demon was doing. She picked up her athame and drew a circle around herself, including John in the ring of blue sparks. One of John's friends brought in a lantern from another room and its golden glow illuminated the room.
"There y' go, girl. There it is. Knew it was a demon. Get it, Miss."
Iris looked at the orange-haired man. That's right. I am the "bint", when all is well. As soon as some demon appears I am "girl", I am "Miss". Iris gave him a wry smile. "I will. You stay back. And make the boy sit with his mum." She waited until the boy was on his mother's knees before pointed her knife around the room. There was an explosion of sparks under the small window. She followed the sparks with the blade until it paused over the other smaller chalk pentagram.
"Stay back," she said unnecessarily. "I command thee to speak!" she used the Voice on the demon, expecting it to quiver in fear. Instead it glowed, grew larger and took the form of a twisted monkey. "Speak!" she repeated.
"Iris," it said. "Release him. He is mine."
"No." She narrowed her eyes. "I have him now."
"You don't want him," the demon laughed. "He is damaged goods."
"Yeah, but he knows some good tricks..."
The demon laughed again. "I know what you like, too, but I don't see you inviting me over in the wee hours."
Iris frowned. "What do you mean, you 'know what I like'?"
"Oh, I have been there. I heard the pillow talk, the little secrets. The bits about technique, some names were traded about. You give as good as you get. He can't give you any more. Not any new secrets, not any more techniques, and certainly he has exhausted his bag of tricks. Rumpy Bumpy is about to get very dull. Give him to me. I'll make it worth your while."
Iris looked sideways at the monkey, suspicious. She changed the subject. "You shouldn't be there. You shouldn't be in a position to bargain. This salt..."
"What salt?" The demon burst into great peals pf laughter, holding his monkey sides with monkey hands. "He called me, I came. You can't possibly be surprised."
Iris looked down at the blue eyes. "How'd you fuck this up, John?" His eyes closed and she heard a heavy sigh. Iris turned her head to the door as the cabbie came up the stairs into the room, stopping with his paper bag at the threshold. His friends greeted him.
"Chas, the demon's a fuckin' monkey this time."
"Look 'ere, Chas, John's really buggered it up this time. Bloody twit. I've got ten quid on her Ladyship. Rich got 'is money on the chimp."
Iris opened the circle between the cabbie and her hand. The cabbie opened the bag and tossed Iris the box of patches. "There you are." He took his place, sitting down next to the blonde woman. Iris caught the box, closed to the circle behind it, tore open the foil inside and took out a patch. She loosened John's tie and unbuttoned his shirt, then peeled the backing off the patch while the demon chuckled merrily from his own tiny circle.
A mere fraction of an inch separated the adhesive from John's skin. But it was not to be. The patch whipped itself out from between her fingers, flipped up through the air and burst into an explosion of silver and white. Iris could have sworn she heard a whimper from the man in her lap. The monkey rolled on his little pentagram, his little monkey-voice filled the room with hysterical laughter.
"Keep trying, you will never appease him. Waste your time. Go ahead. Every moment makes me stronger." The monkey's dark eyes were not so merry now. The golden glow from the lantern made sinister reflections in their depths. Iris lay John back on his pentacle and examined the demon closer, getting up and approaching him inside his circle. He jumped up and made a show of dancing on the salt circle with his ugly monkey feet.
"How is it that the salt does not stop you?" Iris did not expect an answer, but bought some time with her question. The monkey demon seemed delighted.
"Ha! There is no salt!" He leaped from his circle, high over her head and landed on John's chest, where he danced a jig. "No salt! No salt! No salt!"
Iris touched a finger to the salt circle and put her finger to her tongue. No. Something is wrong. The monkey is right. This isn't salt.
She stepped right over the circle and reached for the box on the bureau. Empty, of course. She read the words, "Iodized Salt." Iris shook the box. A bit was left in the bottom. She turned to the green-haired woman. "Michelle, what was in the salt box?"
"Not bloody salt, that's for certain. Doctor told me Rich's blood pressure is too 'igh. Put 'im on no salt. That's just the bloody box. It's got that substitute in it. If Rich knew, 'e wouldn't touch it. 'e would a gone out and bought more."
Iris tasted the circle again. Potassium Chloride. So. John was blinking up a storm, flat on his back, paralyzed by a minor demon because he didn't have any salt. The monkey demon was still laughing. Iris set the box down. "Can someone get me some salt? Real salt?"
"There's none in this 'ouse. None," said Michelle.
Rich gagged, "So that's why me bangers an' mash taste like utter shit, woman."
"I got a packet wif me fish an' chips," said the fat man.
"Get it." Iris said to him, then approached the demon. "And what is it you want? What was he about to offer you?"
"Some smokes. His comic books. You."
"What?" Iris turned around and shoved John's ribs none-so-gently with the toe of her shoe. "Is that true?"
The blue eyes blinked once.
Right. Can't trust a monkey to tell the truth. Or a demon either. Iris opened her bag and pulled out her wand and her salt. "He may have promised, but he will not deliver." She took a handful of her sea salt and began to walk widdershins around the circle, sprinkling the salt through her fingers as she went. Behind her the fat man returned with his packet from the fish shop.
"'Ere" he said, holding it up over his head.
Iris nodded to him. "Just sprinkle it over the lot of you." She approached the closure of the circle, then paused. She said to the monkey demon, "You know what to do."
The black monkey grimaced, stomped one more time on John's chest, then leaped through the open space of the circle and landed back on his own. Iris closed her circle, then raised her wand.
"Wait!" The demon raised a furry fist. "We can still make a deal."
"For what? His 'mojo'?" Iris laughed and began her incantation.
"No! His Silkies. Give them to me."
Iris stopped, thought a moment, then bent down to pick up the package of cigarettes. She looked inside. Only three left. "What do you want them for?"
"Bragging rights. I can show them around Hell. They are worth a stiff bit of swagger."
"And what do I get?"
"I'll revive him."
"I can do that without you."
"Fine. I'll give him his mojo back."
"No. You can't. You don't have it."
"Cheeky bitch, aren't you," the monkey danced a little on his pentagram. "How about...next week's lottery numbers?"
There was a cheer from the gallery. Iris silenced them with a look. "Don't insult me," she said to the demon. She raised the wand again.
The demon jumped up and down. "Wait! I will tell you the truth. I can tell you what he really thinks about you."
Iris paused, glanced down at John's face. The blue eyes looked worried. Well. She weighed the pack in her hands, eyed the monkey. "Talk."
The demon's monkey face split ear to ear with a grin. "He thinks you have nice legs. He likes the soft mattress cover on your bed. He thinks you give the best blow jobs he's had in a year. He would rather you not talk so much. He hates the pink in the bathroom. He wants you to hurry up and come out with the bit you know about Crowley's testicles, and he is just fucking you for a chance to nick the charged crystals you keep in your top bureau drawer. He was running out of tricks to string you along...lost his mojo. Now toss me the Silkies."
Iris set her teeth, pointed her at the circle between her body and the demon and tossed the cigarettes through the hole, then followed it with a stab of the wand. There was a flash of light, a puff of sulfur and the monkey demon was gone. A cheer rose from the Gallery, she heard one voice complain, "What about the lottery?" And another voice: "I win. Ten quid."
She knelt down by John's side, "So you don't like the pink in the bathroom?" The blue eyes were filled with apprehension. "I see." She showed him the nicotine patches. "I paid for these. And I'm keeping them." She tucked them in her bag. The blue eyes widened with panic. She opened the circle and stepped through. "Take me to my car," she said to the cabbie.
"What about John?"
"The demon is gone. The paralysis will wear off in an hour or so. Maybe two."
"Poor John..."
Iris looked back at the man lying on the floor. "Yes, indeed. Poor John. He surely has a monkey on his back, now, doesn't he? It's a shame, innit?"