Pure & Sinful (Pure Souls) - By Killian McRae Page 0,6
the click-clack of Riona’s heels. The priest doubled over, breathless, and looked up to take in her blood-stained visage.
“What happened to you?” he gasped.
She looked down at herself in observation. “Jerry always did like a big finish,” she said. “Father, maybe a word or two…”
The priest looked up at her in confusion. She motioned with her hands at the piles of dust surrounding them.
“Oh, right,” he answered as he straightened up, grabbing a whiskey bottle from one of the amazingly undisturbed tables nearby and taking a quick swig. “Heavenly Father, we thank you for overseeing our acts today and keeping up safe. May they all burn in Hell.”
“Amen,” Dee added, taking the bottle from Marc’s hand.
He laughed, only seeing afterwards the remaining hurt evident on Riona’s face.
“Hey, kiddo,” Dee cooed. Crossing to her, he put an arm around her shoulders before pulling back. The sleeve of his jacket covered in something. Or was it, someone? “You did good. That was hard. It’s what they do; play with your emotions that way. Don’t let anything he said get to you.”
“I wanted to give in for a moment,” she answered shamefully, eyes downcast. “For a moment, I thought about how good it would feel not to vanquish him.”
“But you did it. Riona, it’s not about what you want, it’s about what you decide to do despite that. The Council is going to be very happy with what you pulled off here today.”
“What we pulled off,” she corrected. “Though I have to say, you all could have been a little more proactive in the ass-kicking.”
Marc shook his head. “No, we couldn’t. Direct orders. You had to sink or swim on your own.”
“You mean, this was the plan all along? Me against twenty-four demons, one of which could read my mind?” Riona gasped.
Though it made sense. After all, she had unknowingly spent months having conjugal visits (and re-visits (and re-re-visits)) with a pretty high-profile demon. True, his service to Old Nick hadn’t exactly been part of their pillow talk, but sure as sunshine, her loyalty had to be tested at the get-go.
“As it turned out, twenty-four demons and an imp,” the priest corrected.
Riona shot him daggers with her eyes. She half-contemplated picking up one of the leftover beer bottles and chucking it to complement.
Marc pointed to the bar. “He was hiding behind it. Lucky for us you used the right hex that works on both. Beginner’s luck.”
Dee could see trouble brewing; his eyes focused in on the witch’s fist clenching and the priest gave her a “get-over-it” glare. Quickly, he moved to turn things towards the positive. “But, hey, you got the job done. Seriously, Riona, we wouldn’t have gone along for the ride if we didn’t trust you at the wheel. Marc and I have been near death too many times to rush into something that’s over our heads. Or, I guess in this case, over your head.”
Riona smiled warmly, knowing Dee wasn’t the type to deceive. And frankly, yeah, she had been pretty damned awesome.
“Fucking great. Can we eat now?”
And in the end, Marc was still Marc, and still didn’t seem like a man who had any speck of good will for her personally. Riona nodded in response to his rude inquiry, and hooked elbows with him, making him squirm in discomfort at the familiarity. “But this time, it better be something more than cheap wine and vanilla wafers. I am so not crashing another first communion.”
Dee fell in line behind them as they left Dante’s Inferno. “How about Greek? I know someone who’d cut us a good deal.”
“The last time you said you knew someone, you gave my dry cleaning to a centaur.”
“And did he not return it sparkly white and crisp?”
She grimaced. “Yes, yes he did,” she admitted, before bitterly adding, “and that was my favorite black silk shirt. Pizza, Dee, let’s just do pizza.”
They made their way down the wet street, passing through the September night, not even turning back once to see the dark eyes following them from the shadows of the alley next to the bar.
Chapter 2
The sound of falling water ceased and the Dour Power of the Hour himself stepped out of the bathroom and a bank of steam. “Your water pressure is amazing.” He wrapped a terry cloth towel around his netherworld region. “Thought that whole thing at Dante’s Inferno went pretty well, didn’t you?”
Yes, Jerry had played his role perfectly. Now that the other two Pure Soul ninnies had gotten a chance to train