Thorne sighed in bliss as the vinegary stench of heroin filled his nostrils. He wanted this. No. He needed this. Thorne flexed his twitching hand, feeling the cool metal of the syringe in the other. One sharp scratch later, waves of euphoria washed over him. Letting his eyes flutter closed in the dark serenity of his hotel room, Thorne breathed deep. The twitching in Thorne's hand was now a dull ache, a welcome change. What he needed was a pillow, plump and fluffy. Perfect for…
Tap, tap, tap
The feline demon groaned, rose from his chair and went to the door. There were only two demons who would knock on his door like that, Charlie or…
"Angel." Thorne smiled, forcing his eyes open. As his boyfriend stood all aglow in the hall-light, wearing his usual "Nap-Sack" shirt. A gentle wisp of strawberry tickling Thorne's nose making his mouth water.
"Heya, babe", Angel winked. Placing an un-gloved hand to Thorne's face. "Want my goodnight kiss."
"You can definitely have one of those." Thorne purred, planting a smooch on the spider's cobalt-coloured lips.
"You look like a sleepy kitty, Thorne." Angel murmured. "Wanna spend the night snuggling into my floof? I promise to keep my hands to myself… unless of course you don't want me to."
"Hmmmm." Thorne yawned, fighting unconsciousness. "Gimmie a few minutes and I'm all yours."
"Don't keep me waitin' beautiful." Angel winked again, striking a sultry pose before propelling himself from the door. His hips swaying as he made his way to his room. Shutting the door with a soft click.
Thorne smiled, turning to his desk. Stretching and contorting his body as he shed his suit jacket. Soon he'd be in a warm, strawberry, fluffy…
"Thorne?" A voice grunted from the doorway.
"Husk." Thorne smiled, turning back to the door and the swaying bartender. A step towards his ex, showed that Husk was attempting to hide an empty gin bottle.
Deciding against confrontation. Thorne let his tired smile widen.
"Gonna be a bad one?"
"They're always bad." Husk muttered, eyes falling to the floor.
"But…" Thorne interrupted, offering his jacket. Which Husk snatched and scrunched in his hands. "You need it tonight. That's fine. Give it back, clean and wrinkle free in the morning."
Husk nodded, before shuffling his way back to his room, ensuring Thorne's jacket didn't trail on the floor.
Thorne sighed, before making his way, down the other end of the corridor, to his awaiting spider.
"Aint that better pussy cat?" Angel smiled. Drawing his fingers in small circles on Thorne's darker fur.
Thorne responded with a blissful groan; his face buried in Angel's chest fur. Both the nap-sack and Thorne's shirt laying discarded on the floor. The entire room had a gentle strawberry scent, this was the closest Thorne would get to heaven.
"Y'know hun." Angel murmured, continuing to stroke Thorne's fur. "Those ears look like they need nibbling."
Thorne gave a slight nod, Angel's fur tickling his face. The spider demon, taking Thorne's face in his hands, bit the tips of the cat-doctor's ears.
Thorne gasped as Angel bit him. Both pairs of the spider's arms caressing his cat's sensitive back.
"What sorta noise was that?" Angel whispered, "A gasp or a snarl?"
"Can't it be both?" Thorne replied, Angel's thumb running over his lips, parting them.
"Tonight, gonna be the night?" Angel asked, rolling the pair of the over, straddling his soon to be lover.
"Please."
"Think ya could perform, shot-up?"
Thorne raised an eye-brow, Angel chuckled.
"Not m'first tootsie-roller babe.", Angel smiled laying his head on Thorne's chest. "Ya know that if ya not rising to the occasion, there's plenty other stuff we can do."
"Trust me." Thorne exhaled, "I'm plenty ready."
"Good." Angel smiled, pulling Thorne's head into his floof for a second time. Reaching down for Thorne's belt.
Thorne shut his eyes…
Tap, tap, tap
"DO YA MIND?" Angel complained. "WE'RE GETTING FREAKY IN HERE!"
"Come in Charlotte." Thorne sighed, knowing it couldn't be anyone else. Angel dismounted him, went to the end of the bed, pouting.
The princess of Hell, teased the door open, holding something in her hand.
"Husk gave me your phone, it's ringing." She spoke.
Thorne huffed in annoyance, his eyes flashing red. Then taking the phone from Charlotte.
"What do you want Corvus?"
"IT'S HIS FAULT MY DAUGHTER IS LIKE THIS!" Stella screamed, as she, Stolas and Octavia sat in Thorne's office. Her screams echoing around the office. Thorne thought that a higher pitch would shatter the windows.
It was taking all Thorne's considerable will to stay awake. And having "the biggest Karen in Hell" shouting at you helped. Yet Thorne wasn't taking in any of what the entitled owl was screeching. His head remained propped up by his hands, and had to prick himself with his claws to keep his eyes open.
He didn't believe the premise anyway; Octavia was not suicidal. No previous history of suicidal ideation or attempts. And great care taken in her appearance. Thorne could spot trauma and pain in others. While Stella kept enforcing that her "precious little owlet" was upset, it wasn't as bad as she was making out. The successor to Stolas' crown sat, headphones in, knitted brow, knees up to her chin. Trying to block out what was going on around her. While her mother squawked and her father sat dejected.
"ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME? YOU KNOW I HAVE HEARD YOUR NAME BEFORE!" Stella shouted, slamming her hands onto Thorne's desk. Her face inches away from his.
Thorne had dealt with many patients and relatives like Stella, and would treat them all the same way. Rising from his chair, he met her gaze.
"Most people have." He growled, "I'm often found on flowers. And I want to hear from Stolas." He asserted. Not raising his voice.
Stolas lent forward in his chair.
"YOU DON'T GET TO SPEAK AFTER WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO MY FAMILY!" Stella exploded at her husband.
"I think…" Thorne began.
"NO!" Stella spat in rage, shaking her head. Her feathers trembling with her anger. "I'M NOT PAYING YOU TO THINK, I'M PAYING YOU TO TELL THIS IMP-FUCKER HOW HE HAS RUINED MY DAUGHTER AND EMBARASSED ME!"
Thorne kept his face professional, but swore to himself. He finally realised what a Karen was.
Stella continued her tirade at Stolas. They were getting nowhere, neither Stolas nor the doctor able to get a word in. Thorne kept an eye on Octavia, who had remained silent and on her phone. A single tear leaked from the corner of her eyes, giving Thorne all the permission, he needed.
Rising from his chair as Stella continued her assault on Stolas, Thorne made his way to Octavia. He tapped her shoulder and mouthed, "Come with me."
With a sniff, the princess moved from her chair and followed Thorne to the door. Stella remaining oblivious.
Stolas, turned to Octavia's now vacant chair and in a panic looked around for his daughter. Catching the sight of her with Thorne, he mouthed two words as the doctor locked him in with his aberrant wife.
"Thank You"
"What's that you're listening to?" Thorne inquired, as he and Octavia made their way down the hall. They hadn't passed anyone but no one had any reason to go this way.
"Fuk Q Dad, it's a band I like."
"Oh, that explains this." Thorne smiled, retrieving the piece of paper Stella handed to him at the start of the session.
"Pain is all that flows within me,
Even death brings no release,
Why will nothing cut the shouting,
And bring me finally some measure of peace."
"Not my greatest." Octavia huffed, "Wait, how does that explain anything?"
"Well, you're not so vain to think hastily written lyrics would impress them. The fact that they're hastily written means, written to a deadline, that is fast approaching. So… this is an entry to a writing competition where the prize is tickets to a live concert. Since I don't think you'd be after anything else."
"Yep." The young princess pouted, her hands plunging back into her pockets.
"Didn't win?"
"Nope, Damien did, the smug dick." She snarled.
"That's the son of Satan, isn't it?" Thorne asked, as they turned a corner continuing down the black granite hallway.
"Yer." Octavia scorned, "I'm Damien." She continued, lowering her voice to a mocking growl. "I'm the son of Satan, and I'm so cool. Just turned 18, and my dad's so proud of me. I have a huge mop of hair and I sing all the time, and I play the Banjo, and I have chiselled abs and a nice six pack and…".
Octavia stopped to look at Thorne, as he stood there with a wry smile.
"Fine." The young owl huffed, "He's hot."
"So's his father."
"What?", Octavia's mouth falling open in disbelief.
"I think his dad's hot."
"Wait, so did MY dad and you…"
"Oh, Hell no!" Thorne grimaced, "He's far too tall and his mouth's all weird."
"Right." Octavia replied, rolling her eyes, as the two of them approached a large ornate brass door.
Thorne rooted through his pockets, while Octavia read the sign.
Nursery.
"Not into babies, or anything like that.", Octavia snorted folding her arms.
"What about baby flowers?" Thorne inquired, retrieving a brass key and fitting it to its lock. "This is my greenhouse."
The door creaked open, and a sickly-sweet perfume bombarded the demonic pair.
"Let it breathe for a minute." Thorne chuckled, before ushering Octavia inside, shutting the door behind them.
The air was warm, summer-heat. Pristine windows sparkled in their wrought iron filigree castings. Leaves and petals danced in a conjured breeze. Looser elements sent fluttering to the floor to be crunched under foot and claw. The sweet aroma had gone from overpowering to delicate, and delighted the nose.
Octavia sighed, and did something that she hadn't in a long time. Smiled.
"It has that effect on everyone." Thorne remarked. Going to the nearest bench, rooting through the weeds.
"Huh?"
"Relaxed shoulders, soft smile… happiness."
"Meh, I'm alright."
"Hold this for me." Thorne said, handing the owl a cutting of a sunflower.
Octavia took the bloom and stared at it.
"Wait… these aren't all from the living world, are they?" She asked.
"Hmmmm", Thorne nodded.
"You'd be in so much shit, if you were caught."
"So would your father." Thorne grinned, "He's the one who got them for me."
"So why am I holding this? Octavia mumbled, twirling the flower in her hands.
"Thought you'd like it."
The young owl chuckled, leant back on a nearby desk, tucking the sunflower behind her ear.
BANG
"Sir, we have a problem." Corvus cried, as the doors slammed shut behind him. Both the doctor and the goetia staring at him.
"Yes, we do." Thorne growled; his eyes glowing. "The problem is that you don't knock."
"But sir." Corvus continued mid pant, "The problem is pretty… pretty…". The young demon trailed off as he locked eyes with Octavia.
"Big?", Thorne continued, feigning interest.
"Yes, there's been a murder."
"We're in Hell Corvus, be more specific."
"It's one of Selene's guards."
"We're they killed in the hospital?"
"No, but…"
"Then why am I getting involved?" Thorne interjected, frowning at his receptionist.
"Selene's cashing this in." The teen replied, handing a small black card, embossed with a blue rose.
"Oh." Thorne muttered, dropping his shoulders. He noticed Octavia's confusion. "I hand these out to certain members of staff, and friends. One use only, they can have the full use of my abilities and faculties to fix any problem they want."
"Your gonna fix death?" Octavia asked her frown deepening.
"Doubt it." He chuckled. "I can only guess that she wants me to solve the murder."
"Shall we be off?" Thorne smiled at the avian pair, straightening his back and making his way to the door.
"We?" asked the young woman, sliding off her perch.
"Can't imagine you want to stay here on your own."
"Nope."
"Well then…" Thorne continued, clasping his hands behind his back. "Let us go catch ourselves a murderer."
"What's that yellow stuff coming out of his chest?" Octavia asked, staring at the decedent hell-hound lying on the floor.
"Fat." Thorne mused, casting his gaze over the open-chested cadaver. His nose crinkling at the smell of death and cheap whiskey.
"Cool."
"Don't wanna see any of this Corvus?" Thorne jeered at his assistant who stood far back from the scene, trying not to lose his dinner.
"Thorne!" A man bellowed, heavy uneven stomps on the stairs.
"Razzy" Thorne turned to Corvus, beaming.
"Who?" Octavia asked.
Thorne giggled, "Wait for it… 3… 2… 1"
A mammoth of a bull demon, stormed through the door and lumbered his way to Thorne.
"How'd ya get here before the rest of us?" The bull snarled.
"I didn't stop for a drink." Thorne winked, tapping the bull's chest. "Octavia, this is Razzy…"
"Detective Rasputin." The officer boomed, "And you're contaminating my crime scene."
"And you contaminate my after-life Razzy." Thorne mocked with a smile. He turned to Octavia, "He's always following me around."
"You and that goat, caused more headaches for me, than the rest of the precinct combined. Eventually you'll slip up and I'll…"
"It keeps you off the streets." Thorne interjected proudly, "Wait, actually it keeps you on the streets in the pursuit of criminals. Bit pointless really, isn't it?"
Rasputin growled menacingly. As Thorne peered over the bull's shoulder.
"Well, have fun dear." Thorne smiled, moving to the door. "The three of us are off, gonna have ourselves smoothies and talk about… jazz. Laters."
Thorne shut the door, leaving the detective alone and confused.
"What was that about sir?" Corvus asked, dumbfounded.
"Yer, my feathers were cringing." Octavia queried, as Thorne ushered them to the other side of the corridor.
"Didn't want him seeing this." Thorne proclaimed triumphantly, pointing to the doorhandle of the office opposite.
"What about it?" Corvus asked.
"Look closer."
The owl pair leaned in.
"You mean the scratches?" asked Via.
"Correct, what does that mean to you?"
The owls both shrugged.
"This was the thief's intended target." Thorne stated. "The hellhound just got in the way. They picked this lock, killed the guard when he caught them, moved his body into the unlocked office opposite and proceeded to ransack…"
Turning the handle, the doctor opened the door and the demonic trio walked into…
"An architect's office."
"So, what's the H.C.C.R.C?" Corvus asked. They had gone through the office for a few minutes before finding an empty draw marked with the aforementioned letters.
"Hell's Currency Circulation and Recycling Centre." Octavia muttered, as the taxi took them to the edge of the Pentagram.
Thorne looked at her, puzzled at her insight.
"Had to learn about it in school."
"I have the digital plans here sir." Corvus called out, "What would they be looking for in a recycling centre."
"They recycle Hell's currency, Corvus." Thorne replied. "Any worn or damaged bills, go there to… be… shredded."
"What?" Octavia asked.
"Imagine all that money, neatly stacked, counted and bound. Just sitting there, all you would have to do would be to walk in and take it."
Octavia went to reply, "You can't just walk in…"
"You can if you pick the right moment." Thorne retorted, "The right circumstances and right story will get you in anywhere."
"So how are we gonna do it?" Corvus asked. "What if there are like, 700 commandos shooting up the place?"
"Don't worry." Thorne smirked, tapping his holsters. "I'm packing, and if all else fails I'll just use you as a shield."
Corvus opened his mouth in protest.
"Look, I don't know what we'll find. But we have to do something." Thorne continued, "And something tells me that Octavia already has a plan."
"Didn't know there were an inspection." The obese imp guard huffed.
"You really think I would come to this shit-heap on whim?" Octavia spat, "My father sent me as he was far too busy to deal with the likes of you. I am Octavia Goetia and you will open this door. Now."
The guard gulped, unlocked the gate and let it swing open. Allowing the trio entry.
Thorne waited till being out of earshot before speaking.
"You did good back there. Something tells me you like ordering people around."
"Yeah, I think I understand why mum treats the staff at home the way she does."
"It was hot." Corvus blurted out. Thorne gave him a questioning glance. Octavia in stunned silence, eyes wide.
"I mean like… it was hot… like a vortex of… coolness and… stuff."
Octavia groaned, rolled her eyes and the three of them continued to the main building.
"There aren't enough Os in smooth, to describe you right now." Thorne chuckled at his assistant.
"So, what are we looking for exactly?" Corvus inquired, as the three of them stood in an empty warehouse.
"Nothing." Thorne huffed. "It's already gone."
"So, we did all this for nothing?" Octavia groaned.
"What could they do with shredded money?" Corvus pondered.
"This is the stage before shredding." Thorne theorized, "So they must have taken it before it could be processed.
"Hey", the guard from earlier called out, running towards them with a clipboard. Jowls and belly swaying from the effort. "There… ain't no… inspection, I… checked." He panted, lifting up his clipboard. "You're all… under… arrest, for theft of… money."
"Excellent reasoning cupcake." Thorne chortled. "We've managed to steal $2.6 billion, and we're all hiding it in our pants."
"How'd ya know it's 2.6…" The guard stammered, as his heart-rate returned to normal.
"Says so on your clipboard. It also says that you've let a vehicle in, but not out. Which means our would-be thieves are still here."
"I'll call the police." Via called excitedly.
"I wouldn't." Thorne mused, "There are no scheduled visits today, so only an emergency vehicle could gain immediate access, and since I own all the ambulances, that leaves fire-department or police. You call one, the other would hear about it. And since we don't know how many thieves we're dealing with, it leaves us with one option." Thorne frowned retrieving his phone.
"Just hope Alastor is still awake."
Thorne had returned to the hotel, letting Corvus release a very irate Stella and very grateful Stolas out of his office. He sat in the dimly lit bar, with Alastor in his usual chair by the fireplace. Everyone else had gone to bed.
It didn't take much getting Alastor to help. One hasty deal later, and the radio-demon had turned up at the centre and made literal mincemeat of the would-be thieves. Thorne made a mental note to tell the rest of the hotel residents not to eat the burgers in the fridge.
"You're very lucky I'm a light sleeper." Alastor grinned. Rising from his chair, shoes clicking on the wooden panelled floor.
"Right." Thorne nodded, "And you just want me for one broadcasting of your show?"
"For now."
Thorne sighed, one little radio broadcast with the radio-demon. How bad could that be?
"Are you sure that I won't get in trouble?" Persephone muttered nervously. Grasping the aconite vial in her hand.
"Course not, sweet thing." Velvet cooed from the window of her limousine, "I promise."
"Because, Thorne would have a fit if he knew."
"Nah." Velvet scoffed, "He and daddy Val are friends again. It's all cool."
"Oh." The alligator demoness smiled. "In that case.", she handed over the glass tube, it's liquid content swirling around.
Velvet giggled as the car pulled away, playing with the poison in her hands. She called to the driver.
"Take me to Halentine."