Chapter Nine
The hotel was a cut above cockroach but several notches below respectable. I had argued for a decent hotel with room service and a fully stocked mini bar. Mercy insisted we keep a low profile as her foster parents might have reported her missing, not for the first time I suspect. I couldn't be bothered to argue, I needed sleep, Shiree needed to sleep. If I got overtired she got ratty like a squalling fractious child and she was a toddler at the best of times.
Mercy threw her reeking bag on her bed. I inspected the sheets for bodily fluids and fleas. I had insisted on buying clean underwear and a toothbrush and toothpaste at an all night store on the corner near the hotel. She had been surprised that a demon should be interested in dental hygiene or been appalled at going two days in the same underwear.
"You turn them inside out they'll be fine," she had suggested. It was my turn to do the grossed out face.
I looked at my Cartier watch.
"Its 6.33am and I need to sleep as do you. This contract is not going to be done if we are worn out and working on overdrive."
I suggested six hours sleep and then we'd investigate the church. I'd phoned a few acquaintance who were going to put out a few feelers, literally in the case of one of them. Mercy had rolled her eyes and complained but she wasn't tired. It's not every day you meet a crossroad demon and kill a nest of vampires all before your sixteenth birthday.
I hadn't lived for centuries in various humans without knowing that the human brain requires time to process and without that things get a little fragile. Shiree had hung on in there for five years because she seemed to process things very very slowly and for some reason she didn't seem too freaked out by the whole demon possession business. Of course I wasn't one of those who abused their host, drove it beyond mending and then just moved onto the next one. I kept her body out of harm's way whenever possible and she hadn't experienced too much gore and horror and when there was she was quite good at going to her happy place which was as far as I could ascertain a spa in Virginia with an infinity pool that she liked to float in and look out over the mountains.
I even try and follow her cleanse, tone moisturizing routine for fucks sake, greater love hath no demon for his meat suit Crowley once said when I told him about this after two or twenty tequilas.
Mercy insisted she definitely wasn't tired then fell asleep the minute she lay her head on the pillow. I watched her sleep and was fascinated that she seemed so peaceful. She had imploded nine vampires, burnt to death a few more and here she was fast asleep. I stood over her and stretched out a hand wondering if her particular skill set operated why she slept. I could put a pillow over her mouth and let her sleep permanently but the contract had to be kept.
She turned over and hugged the spare pillow close to her chest as if it were something precious she didn't want to let go. I padded into the bathroom and brushed my teeth. Shiree would spare me the beauty routine tonight. I stared into the mirror, I was one of those that magnified every little flaw and the harsh florescent light didn't do a girl any favors. I was going to have to work harder to maintain my allure or rather hers.
"Mirror , mirror on the wall who is the fairest of them all, you aren't, you sorry excuse for a fucking demon." In the mirror I saw Crowley standing behind me. His face was I would say inscrutable but his inscrutable was some people's very pissed off.
I turned round wishing I had better underwear on, a visit from Crowley usually demanded top of the line lingerie or maybe just Chanel perfume a trick I had learned from Marilyn Munroe.
"Shhh…" I snuck round him and closed the bathroom door and leaned against it.
"Are you shushing me, are you fucking shushing me." I could tell he wasn't happy.
"Just thought it best not to wake her, might be a tad awkward." I smiled at him hoping this might be helpful, it wasn't.
"That little madam in there has us, no not us, me, fucking me, tied into a contract that potentially might end with my demise !" He was a little puce around the gills, not a good sign.
"It seemed so easy sweetie, a poor little orphan Annie wants to meet her momma and poppa, have a little chat and then ten years of relative happiness and then home to you to do with as you wish. It was so simple." I was playing the naïve ingénue, I didn't see the pitfalls but you the great one, the great King of Hell, the super brain was the only one capable of spotting a tiny flaw in the contract. Flattery was the way to any king's heart it had stood me in good stead for centuries.
I edged closer and wound my arms around his neck, I tentatively kissed him. He didn't get to be King of Hell by falling for a little kiss and make up sex but it was worth a try.
"Simple, don't you know by now, simple is always bloody suspect. This is Lee Harvey Oswald all over again." He grabbed my wrists and extricated himself from my embrace, he was squeezing just a little too hard for comfort.
Everyone in hell knew not to mention the Oswald thing, it was a sore point.
"I have been reliably informed that not only have you allowed this little bitch to tie me personally into the outcome of her contract but she seems to be a raving psycho who can decimate a whole nest of vampires singlehanded with you trailing behind holding her handbag." He was working himself up into one of his rages, this wasn't going to be a pretty sight. Poor Shiree was in for a bit of a battering, I'd be needing concealer tomorrow to hide the bruises.
"She doesn't have a handbag, she's really not the handbag sort, in fact I don't know what sort she is but to be fair I didn't know that until the contract was signed and sealed.
Suddenly he pushed me against the door and looked me up and down, I hoped the contract might have faded a little by now but no such luck. I wondered if Crowley's body might be on the verge of a heart attack
"What the fuck is this, the contract is meant to be on her, not you, you dipshit. What is this all about, you were one of my best. Is it Alzheimer's, alcoholism , general stupidity…you've been doing this long enough to know how this all works." He was giving me the full on Crowley glare. I didn't like the way he was using the past tense, it made me feel a little insecure.
"She's unusual, boss, how was I to know she was a bit flaky." I tried to keep my voice down, in fact I was whispering. It's a strange thing when someone whispers you tend to whisper back, it's a scientific fact or so it said in a magazine I picked up in the beauty shop a while back.
"Flaky, fucking flaky, she's way beyond flaky. Grayson is dead , his whole bloody family or whatever he called them is dead and the point is he was useful to me. You don't kill off useful people unless they pose a threat and behold he is annihilated and tiny bits of him are probably still floating over Milwaukee and drifting into people's hot dogs and fish-ponds." He was whispering but somehow with him it felt even more menacing.
He straightened up, and pulled down his jacket, Saville Row, you had to admire his sartorial taste.
"Wake her up, wake the little bitch up, now!" He had stopped whispering, I expected someone to start hammering on the wall any minute.
"I really don't think that's wise boss, she may not respond well to shouting. Perhaps I could have a word with her in the morning about her behavior." I was pressed up again the door hoping to keep him out of the bedroom.
"This is not some teenager who's been caught smoking behind the gym, this is about business. Contract or no contract she has to behave." With one well timed blow he sent me flying into the bath tub and blew the door off its hinges.
"Get up you little whore I'd like a word in your shell like." He was roaring like a mad bull, his blood pressure must be off the scale.
I clambered out of the bath, catching sight of my already swelling cheek bone in the mirror. Shiree was going to be really pissed off with me. I ran into the bedroom hoping to perhaps be the voice of reason , the still small voice of calm and if not that at least save Mercy from something painful. The contract didn't stipulate she couldn't have a good hiding from the King of Hell but then I caught myself laughing, why was I worrying about her, the kid who'd fallen off a roof and walked away without a scratch but maybe gravity and Crowley weren't in the same league.
Mercy was kneeling up on the bed and rubbing her eyes.
"Oh for fuck sake you dickwad put a sock in it, some of us are trying to sleep."
I held my breath, calling Crowley a dickwad was something only a very few could maybe survive and none of those were in the room at present.
It was not a good start if we were going to build some bridges here.
