Demigod Down (14 page)

In the end, I decided to text him. I didn’t
want to go to voicemail, as I was certain he was still working on
digging up information on how to free his family member.

Had to leave for work, only be gone a day or
two. Had an exciting day with Alfie. I sent over.

The response was surprising and immediate, I
heard. Be safe. Come back to me.

I couldn’t help the stupid grin that split my
face. Always. I answered, contentment filling me.

Leaving cash on my table, I made my way back
out to the SUV under the securement of the brilliant lights that
lit the parking lot. I wanted something to happen, for the second
and unknown potential demigod to make a move sooner rather than
later, but I was disappointed as I made it back to the hotel room
without any interruptions.

Dropping onto the dark comforter, I heaved a
sigh, taking off my boots, exhaustion seeped into my bones as I got
ready for bed.

I was awake when the sun shone through the
curtains. Sleep was illusive but I had managed to get in a few
hours. Rolling over, I checked my watch. It was still too early to
visit the witnesses to the talking snake, but I could look at the
scene of the reported sightings.

The drive was quick to the local park. It had
a playground, running track, and bathroom shack. Taking my coffee
to a bench, I sat on the table, and propped up my feet on the seat
and watched. A few children walked through on their way to school,
backpacks bouncing against their hurrying forms.

Nothing snaked after the kids. There weren’t
any strange voices without bodies nor a damn thing out of the
ordinary except for the cold-blooded killer, drinking her coffee on
the bench. I sighed, having killed enough time to make an
acceptable appearance at the first witness on my list, Rosalyn
Antigua.

As colorful as her name was, she was beyond
all expectations. Squinting up at me from bright blue glasses with
rhinestones glittering from the pointed corners, she belched before
asking, “What the in the seven hells do you want?”

I smiled, trying to sound as unthreatening as
possible, “I’m Olivia. I wanted to ask you a few questions about
the talking snake you reported.”

Giving me the once over, she demanded, “You
from the papers?”

“No,” I answered, unsure where this line of
questioning was going.

She huffed, “What do you want with it?”

“If it is killing people, than I plan to end
it,” I answered easily.

She laughed out right, moving back to let me
in, “I gotta hear how you plan on doing that.”

Waddling away, I followed her neon yellow
tank top and tie dyed cloth shorts through stacks and stacks of
magazines and newspapers. Looking around, I couldn’t see a window,
but only a small path that twisted through the front room until we
made to it the immaculately cleaned kitchen. Not a speck of dust
existed here as it did in the front room.

I took in the pristine 1960’s pearl white
table with a shrug before sliding into a seat, equally impressed,
and slightly unnerved, by the equally white cabinets and tile. The
effect was an overwhelming white out and I blinked to adjust my
eyes I watched Rosalyn putter around the kitchen, pulling down
delicate tea cups.

“So?” Rosalyn asked filling a kettle with
water before placing it on the stove.

I raised an eyebrow, uncertain what she was
asking.

With a huff, she asked, “So how do you plan
on killing a giant talking snake directly from the pages of the
Bible?”

I shrugged, “I feel pretty confident in
beheading.”

Rosalyn raised a cranberry-colored eyebrow at
me. “You do understand the significance of the snake?”

“I do not.” I answered, very uncomfortable
with the way this conversation was headed.

“Do you not read your bible, young lady?”
Rosalind asked hauntingly.

“I do not.” I answered, careful to keep my
voice neutral.

Rosalyn took the tea kettle off the stove
when it began to screech, pouring us both a cup. Her eyes hardly
left me and I began tapping my fingers with irritation.

“Let it seep.” Rosalyn commanded me, setting
the cup in front of me.

Removing my hands from the cup, I went back
to tapping.

“The book of Genesis details how the talking
snake convinced Eve to taste the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge
of Good and Evil,” Rosalyn stated, watching me closely.

“And that is a bad thing?” I guessed by her
tone.

She snorted. “Anything deemed by our Lord and
savior as ‘off limits’ is most certainly a bad thing,” Rosalyn
informed me.

I shifted in the firm seat, losing my
patience quickly. I didn’t need a summary of the bible, I just
wanted to kill the damn thing if it was killing innocents. Hell, at
this point I just wanted to kill something.

“To punish Adam and Eve God cast them out of
the Garden,” Roslyn continued as I watched her, cursing the waste
of my time.

“You saw this Biblical snake at the park a
few miles away?” I asked, trying to get this conversation back on
track.

“I did,” she said, nodding deeply, “It spoke
to me of the glory that existed with him in the world beyond, all
the amazing, wondrous dreams of a better life could be achieved if
I just followed him.”

“What did you do?” I asked, curious.

“I condemned him in the name of the Lord,
back to the Devil from whence he came,” she told me proudly. “But
others have not been as fortunate.” She shook her head sadly. “They
have been tempted away from the path of the Lord and onto Satan’s
path of wickedness.”

“How do you know the snake killed someone?” I
asked.

Lumbering up from her seat, she went into the
front room. I listened as she rustled around, shifting massive
amounts of paper and groaning.

“Well, are you coming in here or what?” she
bellowed at me. I should have seen that one coming - dirty and
pristine don’t mix.

Standing up, I followed her out as she handed
me a dusty stack of newspapers. “Four missing persons in the last
six weeks, no body, no trace evidence, and they all were walking
home past the park at dark,” Rosalyn stated, because everything bad
sneaks out at dark. At least it did in her eyes.

Rosalyn became distracted with the rest of
her mess as I flipped through the articles. She was correct that
each missing person did, according to the most direct route, pass
right by the park. I wondered where they were coming from. The
article listed Detective O’Conner as the officer in charge.

Pulling out my phone, I took a picture of the
article and the list of missing names before returning my attention
back to Roslyn. She was busy muttering to herself, sorting and
organizing. I took a few steps closer to the door, calling out,
“Thank you for your help,” before I turned and booked it.

Humans, they are so damn strange.

…

The police station was twenty minutes from
the park. I made it in ten. It was a squat gray building, with
little character, and an aura that rank of beaten down depression.
Steeling myself and my emotions, I exited the SUV under the light
rain, making my way quickly to the uninviting steel and glass
building.

Puling open the door, I was greeted by an
open office style building with a receptionist sitting behind an
ugly gray counter.

“Can I help you?” she asked from her looming
pile of paper work.

“Is Detective O’Conner here?” I asked leaning
against the drab desk.

Without raising her auburn head, she dialed
on speaker phone. “O’Conner you got another prostitute here to see
you,” before going back to her work.

I looked down at myself. Alright my white
tank might be a little low cut, but my leather pants, matching
jacket, and boots, certainly were not. However, I was getting what
I wanted.

O’Conner turned a corner. I saw a mop of
strawberry blonde hair, disheveled and weary. He stopped dead in
his tracks, as his eyes roved over me. Pulling the tooth pick out
of his mouth, he smiled taking years off his age, a grin filled
with mischief, “If you are a prostitute I’m willing to bet you make
more than me.”

I laughed, the natural assumption, as Hash
had foolishly made, was that since we were exceptionally talented
in the bedroom, we wouldn’t mind charging for it. But sleeping with
another willingly was an open door into our emotions and there
wasn’t enough money in the world for me to make that commitment to
a stranger.

“I’m Olivia, here about the giant talking
snake.” I stated, expecting a disbelieving response.

Instead, O’Conner rubbed his neck internally
debating as his intelligent eyes took in my outfit again. With a
sigh, he responded, “I could use the help, follow me.” He led the
way back to his desk.

Tucked into a dimly lit corner of the
precinct, O’Conner sat heavily at his desk as I took the chair at
the end of his desk, putting the desk on my right as he began
typing onto the computer.

He paused a moment re-organizing the files on
his desk before he looked back at me focused on the case at hand.
“What do you know so far?”

“Not much,” I answered leaning back in the
chair, lacing my hands against my stomach, “a giant talking snake
is rumored to be eating people.”

O’Conner shook his head, flipping open a
file. “I swear I thought this image was doctored,” he muttered
before pushing it over to me.

Tilting my head, I looked into the brilliant
yellow eyes of the snake reflecting the cameras flash as it stood
at least six feet tall. The cream underbelly was smooth against the
dark green scales. The tail pooled behind it and from the mouth
hung large fangs as a forked tongue darted out.

“Was the photo doctored at all?” I asked,
looking back up at him.

“Nothing our tech team could find,” he
answered, leaning back in his chair.

“Who took the photo?” I asked, leafing
through the file.

“Roslyn Antigua,” he answered.

I nodded, “I talked to her earlier.”

“She tell you her theory about Satan sending
the snake to collect the wicked?” he shook his head, chuckling.

“No, but I did get a lesson on the Bible and
the evil snake,” tapping my fingers against the glossy photo.

“Fanatics.” He muttered, looking down at his
vibrating phone, before turning his attention back to me. “So you
want to tag along on the stake out tonight?” he asked, grinning.
“Or should I call it a snake out?”

I couldn’t help the laugh. “I am so in.”

“Wonderful, I’ve never had such an intriguing
stake out partner before.” O’Conner stated, standing up before
sliding his jacket off the back of his chair and onto his
shoulders.

I raised an eyebrow, watching him as I stood,
“Don’t you want to know who I am with?”

“Naw, what will we have to talk about
tonight?” he said, striding away before turning back to yell, “Ten
p.m. back here.”

I nodded, watching him walk away.
Interesting.

Heading back out I made sure to blow a kiss
to the receptionist, charging it with desire before heading back to
my car. I had time to kill before the stake out, I should try and
get some sleep, right after I looked up the evil Biblical
snake.

With a pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream and
a six pack of beer, I sat cross-legged in the hotel bed starring
dejectedly at the search results. They were numerous and
boring.

Clicking on the first one, I had to read the
first paragraph three times. My mind kept wandering. Snakes were
numerous in the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament, not that I had
any idea what the difference was, but I was fairly confident one of
those was the Bible Roslyn had been referring to.

Snakes were an evil symbol - a symbol of
chaos and fertility. According to this website, the snake once
slithered upright but was condemned to slither in the dirt for
seducing Adam and Eve.

Leaning back against the headrest, I scrapped
the bottom of the ice cream container before draining my last beer
and placing them both on the night stand. Something was bothering
me, but sleep was currently more alluring than trying to piece
together the reason my internal warning system was buzzing.

The dead demigod haunted my dreams, smug and
still sleazy, not to mention greasy. He laughed at me. It started
as a simple chuckle, growing into a stomach-holding laugh, and
finally, I jerked awake.

“Mother fucker!” I yelled, sitting upright
sucking down air.

The fucking air demigod had called the other
one the God of chaos. Could it really be that simple? Did I really
just stumble by chance onto the other demigod was that after
me?

It felt too easy and easy always meant
trouble.

I groaned, looking at the clock, I hadn’t
slept long, but I needed to prepare for tonight. I hadn’t cleaned
my guns in a few weeks. While they were not my favorite weapons, I
preferred the up close and personal contact of my knives, guns had
saved my ass more than once. I would be a fool not to use every
weapon in my arsenal.

O’Conner was outside of the precinct, leaned
up against a nondescript blue SUV pulling another drag off his
cigarette gazing up at the sky. Sliding up next to him, I asked,
“The stars whispering secrets to you?”

He snorted, blowing out gray smoke before
turning to me, “I wish.”

“You ready?” He asked giving me a once
over.

Lifting up my jacket, I showed him my dual
40’s secured in the shoulder harnesses, before turning around,
giving him a look at the knives at my back.

“Who did you say you were with again?” he
asked snuffing out his cigarette under his boot, watching me
warily.

I smiled and mock bowed “Olivia, head
Executioner of the Supernatural Council.”

“So your job is to execute people?”