Death's Excellent Vacation (22 page)

The Hashmallim remained silent, but it was a mocking kind of silence, the kind that just dared me to try him.

So I did.

It took three days, but eventually, the Hashmallim cried mercy, and opened a rend in the fabric of time and space, shoving Titania and me through it.

“Do not return,” it said in its creepy, wheezy voice, then slammed shut the rend. “And do not ever sing that song again!”

“That was brilliant,” Titania said, her eyes giving me a long, considering look. “I would have never thought that singing the same song for seventy hours straight would be enough to break a Hashmallim, but you did it. What exactly
was
that song?”

“ ‘My Humps.’ Effective, huh?”

“Extremely so. I thought the last time when you wiggled your butt on the Hashmallim and asked him what he was going to do with his junk that he was going to scream. Well done, demon. Very well done.” She rubbed her hands and looked around the busy city street we had been dumped out on. It was Helsinki (per Titania’s request), and although it was close to midnight, there were a surprising number of people wandering around. Several of them gave me an odd look.

“What’s wrong, you never seen a naked demon?” I asked a woman who stopped and stared.

She looked startled and hurried off.

“OK, I fulfilled my part of our bargain—now it’s your turn. You gotta get me to Paris pronto so I can salvage something of my vacation before Aisling gets back.”

“A nymph always honors her promises,” Titania said, grabbing my wrist and hauling me after her down the sidewalk. “But first, revenge!”

IT turns out they have laws in Helsinki about people walking around the city buck naked. Twenty-four hours after I was arrested, Titania bailed me out of jail, and shortly after that we were on a train headed for a small town in the countryside where she assured me her ex would be celebrating.

“He always loved this area for
juhannus
,” she explained as the countryside whizzed past us. It was night, but because of the midnight sun thing that happened in the far north, it wasn’t dark out at all. “We celebrated it here for centuries, so I’m certain he’ll be here. The nymphood is on their way, so we’ll—what’s wrong?”

I squirmed in the seat. “It’s my codpiece. I don’t think it fits.”

She rolled her eyes. “Look, you said you wanted some clothes so you wouldn’t be arrested again, and I got you some clothes. I’m sorry if it’s not what you like, but there’s no time to go shopping for you. We have to get out to the
juhannus
so we can smite Oberon.”

“Did you have to go shopping at a leather fetish store?” I asked, squirming again so I could adjust the leather thong, that, along with a fishnet tank top and the metal studded codpiece, made up what Titania referred to as clothing. “You couldn’t have gotten me something from the Gap? There wasn’t a Polo store around?”

The look she gave me resembled ones Aisling had been known to send my way. “If you have quite finished, demon, I am trying to explain to you what will happen.”

“You don’t have to; I was eavesdropping when you were on the phone in that leather shop. You called up your nymph buddies, and you intend to blow into your ex’s party and beat the crap out of him. It’s not very complicated.”

“Perhaps not, but it will be delicious,” she said, almost purring. Kind of like how a tiger purrs before it pounces.

“So where does the part come in where you get me to Paris?” I asked, trying to adjust the codpiece. “Man, it’s bad enough I have a substandard package. This thing is squashing everything together into one blob. Here, take a look and see if the blood has been cut off to it.”

She held up a hand to stop me from unstrapping the codpiece. “I do not have time to examine your genital blobs. Oberon is a master of manipulation. We must plan our attack down to the smallest detail.”

I sighed and slumped back in the seat, listening with only half my attention as she detailed her plans.

Two hours later we met up in a park with the local nymphs that she had rallied, ready to set off on motorbikes to a campsite located on a small lake in a northern region of Finland.

“Let the world hear of the Nymph Offensive of 2010!” one of them called, donning a pair of brass knuckles.

“Nymphs unite! Together we shall challenge Oberon and his fae followers, and show them that we are a force to be reckoned with!” Titania yelled, standing on a box. “We will have vengeance for all those centuries of abuse! At long last, we shall prove our worth! Let there be no quarter for the faeries! They will know once and for all the true glory that is the nymphood!”

The thirty or so nymphs who had managed to get to Finland on a day’s notice yelled their support, shaking their fists and various weapons they had acquired. Some of the nymphs slapped on wrist guards and knuckle protectors; others brandished heavy-duty walking sticks. One waved what looked like a toilet plunger.

“But . . .” One of the nymphs, the one nearest me, looked at me doubtfully. “But we are not all nymphs.”

All thirty women considered me. If I’d been in my normal form, I would have asked for belly scritches. But somehow, I had a feeling these babes wouldn’t take that request well. I’m perceptive that way.

“Jim is just here because I owe him a boon for my release,” Titania said slowly. “He is not really one of us.”

“The Titster speaks the truth,” I said, nodding. “I’m just here to hang out until she’s creamed her ex, then she’s going to get me to Paris.”

The nymphs frowned at me. I started to edge away. One nymph frowning wasn’t much to think about—thirty of them, armed and annoyed at men in general, were another matter. “Sorry, did I say Titster? I meant her high and gracious nymphness, Titania the Uber.”

“We cannot have a non-nymph in a Nymph Offensive,” one of the chicks said, frowning some more at me.

“Hey, I’m happy to stay back and let you guys kick serious faery butt,” I said, plopping down on the grass. “I’ll just stay here and wait for you guys to get done, ’K?”

“You must come with us,” Titania said in a huffy voice. “We had a deal. You said you would help me seek my revenge on Oberon. You must do that, or I will not aid you in returning to Paris.”

“Yeah, well”—I twanged my codpiece—“I ain’t no nymph, and if you have a rule that only nymphs can go along to whoop-ass, then it’s not gonna happen.”

“We can make him an honorary nymph,” the frowny chick said.

Titania looked thoughtful as all the other women voiced their approval of this plan. “I don’t see why that wouldn’t work. Although he must change his form into that of a female.”

“No way, sister,” I said, backing up. “I don’t even like human form, but there’s no way in Abaddon you’re going to get me to change into a girl.”

“Why not?” Titania asked, narrowing her eyes as she stalked toward me. “Do you have something against women?”

“Like that’s even possible? It’s just not a good idea for me to take on girl form. ’Cause if I did, all I’d do is jump up and down and watch my boobs bounce.”

The nymphs stared at me with accusation in their eyes.

“Not like I’ve ever done that or anything,” I added quickly, then cleared my throat. “So! Men. They’re scum, right? Let’s go beat up Ti-Ti’s boyfriend.”

Titania made me ride on her motorcycle after that, in order, she said, to save the nymphs from my lust. They made me an honorary nymph, however, which I hope Aisling never hears about, because my life will be one long pun if she does.

We got to the campsite where the faeries were celebrating midsummer an hour or so later. I knew it had to be the right place because not only were there a bunch of bonfires, there were also Renaissance-faire-ish chicks wandering around in long, gauzy dresses, with garlands of flowers in their hair. That, and everyone present was a faery.

“Look at them,” snarled Titania from where the Nymph Offensive was hidden behind several trees circling the lakeside camp spot. “Just look at how they fling themselves around the bonfires as if they, and not we, were beings of the earth!”

“They really do bring new meaning to the word
frolic
, don’t they?” I asked, watching the faeries dance like monkeys on crack around the bonfires. “Hey, you can see right through those gauzy dresses when the light is behind them. Hoobah.”

“They think they are chosen because Oberon has had us cast out of grace,” Titania sneered, “but we will not stand for this anymore!”

“We are of the earth! We will take back what is ours!” Frowny Nymph said. “We will rule midsummer as we were meant to rule it!”

“There will be no quarter for faeries!” Titania said, accepting a long, thin sword from one of the other nymphs. She held it aloft as if it were a beacon. “We will take no prisoners! We will have no mercy!”

“Babe, just between you and me, I think you’ve seen
Lord of the Rings
one too many times,” I said, leaning toward her so everyone wouldn’t overhear. “Viggo you ain’t. If you want my advice—”

She didn’t. “This is war, my sisters!” she interrupted me, waving her sword toward the innocent faeries tripping the firelight fantastic. “It is them or us! All I ask is that you leave that lying traitor Oberon for me! Nymphood—arise!”

On that battle cry, the group of women charged forward, causing immediate panic in the frolicking faeries. They ran screaming away from us, hands waving in the air as they raced around like winged Ren-faire-clad chickens, bumping into each other, the air thick with spurts of faery dust.

It was chaos, sheer chaos, and although one of the nymphs shoved a rake in my hand before she charged off, wielding a chunk of garden hose like it was nunchuks, I stayed in the back and tried to keep out of the way of maddened nymphs.

“Nice . . . er . . . wings,” I said as one flower-bedecked faery in a translucent gown ran past me screaming at the top of her lungs, a nymph in hot pursuit. I wandered over to where two other nymphs had a male faery pinned and were taking turns beating him over the head with a bouquet of flowers he’d evidently strapped to his hip (male faeries aren’t, as a rule, the Otherworld’s most manliest men). “Two against one—I like your style,” I told the nymphs, giving them a thumbs-up as I moved past.

It didn’t take long for the nymphs to wreak complete havoc among the fae folk. Ten minutes after they charged in, the whole motley gang of faeries were huddled together in one glittery, gauzy group. Muffled sobs and murmurs of comfort were periodically heard, but they gave the nymphs who stood over them, brandishing their weapons, no further problem.

None of them did except the head faery, that is. Titania had squared off with her ex next to the biggest bonfire. He was a big blond dude with feathered hair and a garland of ivy leaves on his head. “There you are!”

“Titania! My love! My darling! My one true . . . er . . . one! How I have missed you!”

“You lying bastard!” Titania said as she marched around him. Two of the nymphs held his arms while she circled him, the sword pointed right at him. He looked worried. “You missed me? You’re the one who had me banished to the Akasha, just so you could screw some watery naiad!”

“That was all a mistake. It was a glamour! Nothing more! She temporarily deranged my mind, but as soon as I came out of it and realized what she had forced me to do, I moved heaven and earth to get you out and back to my arms, my dearest, loveliest Titania.”

“Which explains why you had all nymphs cast out of the Court, eh?” Titania asked, making another circuit around him. This time she poked him here and there with the tip of the sword. She didn’t actually draw blood, but he jumped each time the point touched him.

“It was the glamour!” he said, starting to sweat. “I swear to you, I would never have done anything to harm you or your girls—”

The sword poked deep enough into his skin to leave a drop of blood glowing on its tip.

Oberon squawked. “Ladies, I mean ladies! I would never do anything to harm you or your ladies! You know that, my dearest darling. I live for you, my love. My heart beats for you, only for you. Take my crown, take my wings, take everything away from me—everything but your love.”

“Aw, man, I feel that chili dog I had for dinner coming back on me,” I said, rubbing my belly. “You don’t think you could lay it on a little more thick, do you, bud? I bet another round of you telling Tittles how much you love her would have me refunding.”

Oberon’s eyes flashed at me for a second before he made puppy-dog eyes at Titania.

“A glamour, you say.” Titania stopped in front of him, her eyes assessing what she saw.

“It had to be that, my darling, my beauteous one. You know I have devoted my whole life to you.”

I didn’t believe it, but evidently Titania fell for it. She lowered her sword and allowed Oberon to scoop her up in his arms, murmuring all sorts of lovey-dovey crap that anyone with half a mind could tell was total bull.

“I think I really may ralph,” I told the nearest nymph, the one who frowned so much. She looked a bit green around the gills, too. “Hey, Ti! You gonna get me to Paris before you and the Obster there go off to the land of Boinksville?”

“Certainly. Cobs, take the demon to the portal in Helsinki and see that it’s sent to Paris. Now, Oberon, about the repeal on the ban of nymphs at the Court . . .”

The pair of them wandered off. “How long do you give that?” I asked the nymph named Cobs as she gestured for me to follow her. The other nymphs were releasing the wad of damp faeries, all of whom twitched whenever one of the nymphs came too close.

“Oberon is a smart man. I doubt if he’ll cross Titania again. Especially after he sees what she’s brought with her,” she said, nodding as another nymph carrying a box ran past us toward Titania.

“Really? Why, what’s in the box?”

She smiled as she swung a leg over her motorcycle. “Wing clippers.”

“PARIS at last!” I said as I got to my feet. Portalling is never easy on the bones, although most portal companies have wised up and put a stack of padding at the recipient portal, so at least you don’t actually break anything when you arrive. “Ow. Think I pulled my spleen or something. Still, Paris at last! Hold on, Cecile, daddy is on his way!”

The chick at the portal company’s desk barely even looked up from her magazine as I gave her a cheery grin before I headed out the door. I stopped on the doorstep, breathing deeply of the diesel-laden, slightly smoggy, damp, and mildew-smelling air of Paris that I knew and loved. “Paris at last,” I repeated happily, then took one step down to the street, and was promptly grabbed by a couple of strong-armed thugs and tossed into the back of an unmarked black van.

“Fires of Abaddon!” I shouted into someone’s armpit. I didn’t see whose until I was rudely shoved backward with a word that the speaker should have been ashamed of. “What the . . . Hey! Don’t I know you?”

“Get off me!” The woman who was on the floor of the van kicked out at me as she got to her feet and took a seat on the bench that ran along one side of the van. “Effrijim! I thought I detected the stench of a demon.”

“Ow! No kicking the codpiece! Until I get put back into my normal form, this package is all I have. Anyen? What in the name of Bael’s ten toes are you doing here? I thought you ghedes only hung out in the Caribbean. What are you doing in Paris?”

“What do you think I am doing?” Anyen answered. She was tall and thin, her skin as black as midnight, dressed in a long black coat and wearing black glasses, and possessing a very cool Haitian accent. “I’m here to collect revenants, of course. We’re building an undead army, and it’s impossible to do that in Haiti anymore. Ever since that damned Internet became popular, everyone knows how to protect themselves from us. It’s almost more than a decent, hardworking soul-stealer can bear, let me tell you!”

She sniffled just like she was going to cry, but everyone knew ghedes couldn’t cry. It had something to do with their origins.

“Yeah, well, life’s tough all over. Take mine, for instance,” I said, pulling myself up to the opposite bench. The van we were in had a solid wall between the cargo and driver’s area, but judging by the motion, I gathered we were en route to somewhere. “One minute I’m on vacation, about to see the love of my life, and the next—whammo. It all goes to Abaddon. Who nabbed us, do you know?”

She spat out a word that I figured wasn’t very nice. “That new Venediger. I heard that she was cleaning up Paris, kidnapping innocent beings just because we have dark origins. She has squads of her minions watching the portal shops, abducting anyone she doesn’t deem fit to be in the mortal world. It is outrageous, a violation of my rights, and I shall most definitely be complaining to the Akashic League about it! Only they have the right to hold a ghede, and they would not be so foolish to do so.”

“Oh, the Venediger,” I said, relaxing. “Jovana. No sweat, then. We’re old buds, we are. My demon lord helped put her in power. I’m sure once she knows it’s me her goon squad picked up, she’ll have me released.”

Anyen made a face like she didn’t believe me at all, and said nothing more till we arrived at a hoppin’ nightclub named Goety and Theurgy.

“Ah, G&T,” I said as the two guys who nabbed me hauled me inside the club. Two others emerged to bring Anyen. “Brings back old memories. Hey, there’s a buffet here now? Can we swing by it? I’m starving.”

The bully boys didn’t stop. They just hauled me past the buffet, past the dance floor, and down a dimly lit flight of stairs to an equally dimly lit basement.

“Guys? The V is an old buddy of mine. You might want to tell her that it’s me you have, so she doesn’t get too pissed with you when she finds out you’re doing this.”

Neither man said anything.

“Name’s Jim. Well, Effrijim, really, but that’s kinda girly, so I just go with Jim. Jovana knows me.”

They still didn’t say anything. They hauled me across the basement and, without one single word, dumped me into a small room, tossed Anyen in after me, and slammed the door shut.

“I will have your heads for this!” she bellowed as they locked the door. She pounded on it, making all sorts of threats, but eventually she stopped and glared at me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked, kicking aside a cardboard box and plopping down on a dirty-looking cot that sat in the corner. “I didn’t lock us in here.”

“The Venediger is your friend. You said she was.”

“Maybe they’re going up to tell her who I am,” I said, rubbing my sore toes. Box-kicking while you’re barefoot isn’t the best of ideas. “Maybe they’ll be back all groveling and with plates of buffet food in an attempt to curry favor with me. Oooh, curry. Devils and demons, am I hungry.”

“That doesn’t help me any,” she said in a rather surly tone. “It is your duty to get me out of here.”

“Sorry, sister, not again. I just went through one big escape scene—I’m not going to do another. Not for a really long time. I don’t think I could stand to sing about my lady lumps one more time.”

Anyen turned her back on me, but only after she lit me up one side and down another. It’s a good thing I’m immortal, or those curses she’d been flinging at me might have done some damage.

“I’m going to die of hunger. I’m going to starve to death. When Aisling finally tracks me down, she’s going to find nothing but a skeleton left,” I complained a good eighteen hours later. “You think this mattress is edible?”

Anyen, who had kicked me off the mattress and claimed it for her own, rolled over just long enough to glare at me. I was about to point out that I would share it with her when the noise of a key in the lock had me leaping to my feet. “Yay, Jovana finally heard I was here, and she’s going to let me out! That or they’re going to bring us some food. Either works for me.”

“The Venediger wishes to see you,” one of the bully boys said as he opened the door.

I blinked in the relatively bright light. “Yeah, I figured she’d want to make her apologies to me in person,” I said, sauntering nonchalantly out of the room. “Can we stop by the buffet first? I’m about to faint with hunger.”

“Effrijim!” Anyen belted out my name so it had the force to send me reeling a few steps. “I will not be left here! You must take me with you!”

I thought for a moment about telling her to suck it up—I am a demon, after all—but I was feeling generous, so I nodded toward her and asked the nearest guard, “Anyen wants to come with. You don’t mind, do you?”

The guard shrugged. “She may come as well, although the Venediger will not be ready for her until tomorrow.”

“Told ya the V was my good friend,” I said to Anyen as she shoved me out of the way, jerking her arm out of the guard’s hand. She stalked in front of me, tossing her head once and saying merely, “We shall see.”

We weren’t led into the bar proper—which was closed, since it was now early morning—but into one of the back rooms. It was some sort of a conference room, with a long table that had been draped with a black cloth, and three people who stood talking quietly in a small clutch.

“Hey, nice to see ya again,” I said, waving at the woman to whom the other two looked the second I stepped in the door. She was small and well dressed and had a pageboy haircut that always made Aisling giggle. “I see you’re still going in for those power suits, huh?”

Jovana, once a mage and now the person in charge of the Otherworld in Europe, aka the Venediger, stared at me as if I had an extra testicle.

“Oh, man, you don’t recognize me, do you? Yeah, the human form is a bit awkward, huh? But it’s really me, Jim. Aisling’s demon. You probably remember me in Newfie form. Big black dog, luxurious coat, package that would do a pony proud. Remember now?”

“Take the sacrifice to the table,” she said, waving toward me before turning her back on me to fuss over something behind her.

“Oooh, breffies?” I said, hurrying forward. “I’m starved . . . Hey!
Sacrifice
?”

The two burly dudes grabbed me by either arm and jerked me up onto the table. When Jovana turned back toward me, she held a wavy-bladed silver dagger in her hand. I had a really awful feeling I knew just what she was planning on doing with it. “Fires of Abaddon! You’re nuts, lady!”

“Silence!” she commanded, and gestured toward one of the flunkies standing against the wall.

A man came forward, pulled out a scroll, and read. “Demon of unknown origins found arriving via portal in the Latin Quarter on Tuesday afternoon.”

“Jim,” I said quickly, eyeing that nasty dagger. “My name is Jim!”

“You are charged with violation of the Roaming Demon Ordinance of 2008.”

“What?” I squawked, trying to squirm out of the two thugs’ grip. “What Roaming Demon Ordinance?”

“In accordance with the laws sanctified by the Venediger, your mortal form will be destroyed, and your being sent back to Abaddon where you belong.”

“You can’t do that!” I yelled, watching as the Venediger nodded and a Guardian came forward, pulling out a gold stick and beginning to scribe a circle around me. “Aisling is going to be really pissed!”

The Guardian paused, looking up. I’d never seen her before, but evidently she’d heard of Ash. “Aisling? Aisling Grey?” she asked.

“Yeah, that’s her. Aisling is my boss.” I craned my neck to glare up at Jovana. “The same person who gave you your job!”

Jovana narrowed her eyes on me for a few seconds. “It is true that Aisling Grey has a demon under her control. But I have heard that the demon’s preferred form is that of a dog.”

“Man alive, doesn’t anyone listen to me?” I complained, trying to pull my arm free.

Jovana nodded to the guard, who let go of me. I yanked my hand free from the other one and sat up, rubbing my wrists. “I just got done telling you that I’m normally in dog form, but another Guardian ordered me into human form because she knew it would tick me off.”

Six pairs of eyes considered me as I slid off the table to my feet. I straightened my codpiece, dusted off my leather thong, and raised an eyebrow while I waited for the apologies to flow.

The Guardian rose from where she’d been kneeling. “If this demon speaks the truth—”

“I may be a lot of things, but I’ve never been a liar,” I said grumpily.

“If it speaks the truth, then I want no part of this,” she continued, putting away her gold stick. “Aisling Grey is one of the most powerful Guardians in the Guardians’ Guild. She is a savant, especially gifted, and someone I do not wish to cross.”

“Anyen will tell you who I am,” I said, waving at the ghede.

She glared back at me.

“Hey, I helped you, now it’s time for you to repay me,” I told her.

“Oh, very well. The demon does not lie. It is Effrijim. I have known it for several centuries,” she said, albeit kinda grudgingly.

“There, see? All’s well,” I said, heading for the door. “I’ll tell Ash you send her love, ’K? See ya round.”

“Halt!” the Venediger said, and instantly the two guards were in front of the door, their eyes narrow little slits as they frowned at me. “I do not accept this foul thing’s statement.”

“Foul thing!” Anyen said, starting forward. I grabbed her before she could jump the Venediger. “I am not a—”

“Hackles down,” I said softly. “Now isn’t the time unless you want to get us both tossed back into that cell in the basement.”

“That is exactly where you are going,” the Venediger said, putting down the dagger. She looked at it regretfully for a moment before pinning me back with a glare that stripped the hair from my toes. “You will remain there until I can speak with the Guardian Aisling Grey to verify your identity.”

“No way!” I protested. “I’ve got . . . Let me count . . . Man, I’ve only got one day left of my vacation. I’m not going to spend it sitting in that room with a pissed-off ghede!”

“Nor will I go back to that squalid little room!” Anyen declared.

“Fine.” Jovana shrugged. “Then we will perform your release ceremony now. There will be no Guardian to object to you being sent back to Abaddon, I trust.”

Anyen’s eyes opened up really wide when the Venediger picked up the dagger again.

“You know what?” I asked Anyen, taking a deep breath and thinking about Cecile’s warm, furry little ears.

“What?” she asked.

“We’re immortal.”

She blinked at me for a second, but that’s all I gave her. I grabbed her arm, lowered my head, and charged the Venediger. She sprang to the side, out of the way, just as I figured she would. Anyen and I kept going through, right past the Venediger, the two others staring at us in surprise, and on through the window that opened onto a small garden.

Anyen was fast on her feet, luckily, and although my chest and arms and legs were cut by the glass as I went through the window, we both landed on our feet and took off running.

The Venediger’s guards, however, were mortal, and they were less than thrilled about leaping into a mass of broken glass. They were slower getting through the window, and by the time they got to the garden, we were racing down the back alley to freedom.

We split up not long after, Anyen making a snarky remark about me slowing her down.

“You’re welcome,” I yelled after her as she disappeared into the Tuilleries. “Hope you don’t get a really nasty case of zombie rot while you’re raising the dead!”

It took me a couple more hours before I finally lost the guard who persisted in following me, so it wasn’t until afternoon that I staggered exhausted, bleeding, and dirty from a fall into the Seine through the door of a familiar shop. “Cecile! Baby! I’m here!”

The woman behind the counter at the shop stared at me in stark surprise. “Jim? Is that you?”

“Hiya, Amelie. Yeah, it’s me. Where’s Cecile?”

“She . . . she . . .” Amelie seemed to be struck speechless, because she simply pointed upstairs.

“Thanks. Mind if I use your shower? I had a run-in with the Venediger, and I’m all ooky with blood and stuff. See you later,” I called as I dashed through the back room, then up the stairs that led to the apartment in which Amelie and Cecile lived.