Gone With The Minion: Chapter 6
When the floor creaks, the spirits speak....
Clapping the book shut, Olivia dropped it back into the carved box and shut the lid. "Let's take this stuff upstairs and get some fresh air. Besides, this day is begging for a stiff drink." Her eyes darted toward the serpentine-like alcohol in the cup on the desk, and she shook her head. "But not that rot-gut. Let's go back up for the good stuff."
Tristan laughed. "Good idea. This stuff will put a hole in your stomach."
"Or worse," she agreed. She couldn't die of natural causes, but David's old pint of whiskey might be a magic bullet.
Olivia grabbed the box containing David's journal, the photo, and her only reason for coming, Moloch's precious book. She led the way this time as they ascented the staircase. The third step creaked as she put her weight on the center. "I can't believe he never fixed that step," she muttered.
"When the floor creaks, the spirits speak," Tristan replied.
Olivia stopped and turned to look at him. "That's what David always said."
The man shrugged. "Is it?"
Her brow arched. "It is."
"I must've heard him say it then."
"But you said you weren't close."
"I lied." Tristan's eyes danced with humor. "I spent a lot of time with the old man."
Olivia winced. Hearing David referred to as "the old man" felt wildly wrong. "Why not tell me that to begin with?"
He chuckled. "I like to keep my cards close to the vest." He made a shooing motion. "We can discuss it more over some of that grade-A bourbon you brought with you."
"All right." She smiled then gave a quick roll of her eyes. "Maybe some Kentucky nectar will pry some of those cards loose."
He chuckled as she turned away. "Maybe."
When they got back to the kitchen, Olivia took a seat at the kitchen table and thumbed through the demon book. Her fervent wish was that her ex-partner would've included a copy of "Demon Translation for Dummies," enabling her to unravel the intricate story inscribed on the pages and understand why Moloch coveted it so intensely.
"Anything interesting," Tristan mused as he sat across from her. "Can you read it?"
"Not hardly," Olivia told him. "It has a few Hebrew words, but mostly it gibberish."
"Not another dead language like Aramic?"
"No," she answered. "I'm pretty sure it's in code."
He sipped the whiskey and set down his glass. He leaned forward. "Code? What kind of code?"
"A code that needs a cypher key." She closed the book and slid it to the center of the table, then emptied the bourbon down her throat. "Even if I had a clue, I'm not sure I'd have a clue."
Tristan picked up the bottle and poured another two fingers into her glass. "You can stay here while you figure it out," he offered. "I'll set up one of the guest rooms."
Uncertain, Olivia hesitated. "I don't think that's a good idea."
“Oh, yeah.” Tristan looked around. “Too many ghosts?”
“My sisters aren’t here right now.” But oh God, she thought, would David’s ghost show up? She never thought she'd see my sisters again after they died—but that hadn't been the case. No. She had to believe David was in heaven. He deserved peace. “I need an outlet to charge my phone before I get on the road? And what’s the password for your Wi-Fi?”
“You can charge your phone, but there’s no cell reception here. No internet either.”
No television? That was strange. "He used to have a TV," Olivia said.
His wife Clarissa had never missed an episode of I Love Lucy or The Ed Sullivan Show. Even if he'd gotten rid of the boob tube, she couldn’t believe David would knowingly cut himself off from the information highway. He could work his way through a stack of medieval manuscripts faster than she could throw her stiletto at a demon’s head. Why would he give up the ability to access global information about the supernatural?
"Not anymore," Tristan responded. "It has to do with the magical wards he placed around the farm's boundary. Nothing gets in and nothing gets out."
"Well, crap." Olivia sighed as she slumped in her seat. “I’d like to research some of the phrases that I could make out in the demon book. Where’s the closest connection?”
“In town.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s nearly five o’clock. Why don’t we drive in for dinner? The Burger Bar in Sanctum has free Wi-Fi and the best apple pie in Missouri.”
"You had me at pie," Olivia responded, attempting to lighten the mood.
“I think someone has courtin’ on his mind,” Eliza said as she, Elise, and Charlotte appeared in the kitchen.
"Uh-hum," Char agreed, but not with the same kind of enthusiasm.
“Did you know the kitchen sponge has more bacteria than a toilet?” asked Elise. She floated to the sink and studied the chrome. “When’s the last time he cleaned this?”
Olivia groaned at her sister's observations.
Tristan gave her a look and asked, “Sisters?”
“Elise thinks your sink needs cleaning, and Eliza thinks you’re asking me out on a date.”
“Would that be so awful?” Tristan asked. “The date. Not the sink cleaning.”
“I knew it!” Eliza clapped her hands and spun around, her skirt billowing out. “Well, tell the man you’ll let him take you to dinner, Liv.”
“I already did.” Olivia glared at her. “Now, get lost. All of you.”
“Well, I never,” said Eliza, every ounce the offended Southern Belle.
“We can’t leave you un-chaperoned,” added Charlotte, smirking.
Tristan leaned over the table, his shirt gaping open so that Olivia could see the soft brown hair smattering his chest. The corner of his mouth crooked up in a half-smile.
“Let’s get dinner, strictly platonic,” Olivia said, suddenly feeling hot and bothered, “and then we can find a good connection.”
Tristan’s eyes held a glint of promise that warmed her to her toes. “I think we’re well on our way to a great connection,” he said.
“I can see you inherited your charm from David. Sometimes you say things that remind me so much of him.” Then Olivia gave him what she hoped was a serious look. “I’m not interested in anything happening between us.”
He looked taken aback. “Why not? I'm unattached. You're unattached.” His tone was teasing, but his expression belied a seriousness she hadn't expected.
“I have only ever loved one man.” Olivia blinked up at Tristan, trying hard not to think about how much he looked like that man.
He stared back, and she swore she saw hurt in his gaze. “Why aren’t you with him then?”
“Because my heart's desire, my dreamboat, is a thing of the past, and he'll never come home,” Olivia said, echoing the sentiment from another Patsy Cline song that David used to play for her. “And anyway, it’s really none of your business.”
Tristan gave her a look she couldn’t interpret. The storm in his eyes churned, but he didn’t press her further. “I’ll shower up and get changed for dinner.”
The idea of the man naked made Olivia's mouth dry. He stripped his dirty t-shirt and gave her a full preview of what she was missing. So she wouldn't say something stupid, Olivia settled on nodding as she squeaked out a barely coherent, “Uh huh.”
After Tristan left the kitchen, Char said, “That was so eloquent, Olivia.”
“Yes, sister,” agreed Eliza. “You certainly have impeccable communication skills.”
“Hush up,” Olivia told them. She looked at Elise. “Where’s your two cents?”
“I feel strange,” Elise whispered. "It feels like something is pushing on me." Her image wavered.
“What’s happening?” Olivia's pulse quickened when Elise’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. She looked at Charlotte and Eliza. Her other sisters had paled, and not from blanching. Their forms began to waver as well. “Char? Eliza?” She jumped up to her feet as panic made her light-headed.
“We can’t…stay,” Char said, her voice as quiet as Elise’s had been. “Something is forcing us to leave.”
“Help us,” Eliza said, her diaphanous body rippling like a stone skipping water.
“Olivia,” cried Elise.
They looked so stricken, so helpless.
And then they were gone.
“No!” Olivia shouted to the space now empty of her siblings. “Get back here right now!” She spun around, yelling out her sisters’ names. She felt tears crowd her eyes. Only one asshole was brazen enough to kidnap her siblings. “Moloch!”
“You called, m’dear?” The demon lord suddenly stood in the center of the kitchen. He looked more surprised than Olivia felt. “Hmm. I hadn’t realized I could breach the parameters. It seems I didn’t need you, after all, dearest Olivia.”
Olivia lunged at the cocky jerk, and he easily side-stepped her attack. “That is no way to treat your master.”
“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Tristan ran into the kitchen, sliding a little on wet feet, and wearing nothing but a pair of hastily donned jeans. The buttons were still undone.
Olivia whipped her head over her shoulder and shouted, “Get out of here, Tristan!”
Moloch’s gaze pivoted, landing on David’s grandson. “And who is this gentleman? A new lover, perhaps?”
“No!” Olivia said with a little too much force.
Tristan put himself between Moloch and her. “I knew you couldn’t resist coming.”
“Stay back,” Olivia ordered. "He's dangerous."
"So am I." Tristan reached into his back pocket and produced the unholy lock. The one she'd left on the desk in the basement. When had he taken it, and why hadn't she noticed?
Olivia raised her hand as if she could stop whatever foolish notion Tristan had in his head. “What...what are you doing? How did you...”
Too late, he threw the lock down onto the floor. Some of Olivia's blood spilled out of Eve’s mouth as it skidded across the linoleum toward Moloch’s feet. The second the lock touched him, Moloch’s red eyes widened with disbelief then shifted to terror as a blinding light shot from the floor to the ceiling, bathing the demon in a golden glow.
“Got you!” Tristan crowed triumphantly.
Olivia fixed her gaze on Tristan, observing as the gray hue drained from his eyes, leaving behind a hazel color reminiscent of David's. Moloch, in a display of agony, threw his arms wide, his features contorted in pain. Was this happening? Had David somehow managed to capture the demon lord?
A surge of golden light dissipated as Moloch commanded, "Enough!" The lock went flying across the room, disappearing beneath the refrigerator. Annoyance replaced Moloch's fear as he addressed the defiant Tristan.
"Oh, David. Very, very good," Moloch sneered.
"David?" Olivia murmured. "What?" Her whole body warmed as she looked back and forth between the two of them. "It's not possible."
"It appears it's quite possible." Moloch frowned, his brows pinching together. "And I must say, David, you're looking quite well for a dead man. Did you really think you could trap me?" The demon lord clucked his tongue against his sharp, white teeth. "Though, I am intrigued. How did you find the angel grace?"
"David." Olivia's voiced sounded like it was underwater in her head as blood pounded in her ears. "It can't..." He knees buckled, and she staggered before bracing herself against the counter.
"I'm sorry, Liv," Tristan, or David or whoever the man was, said. "I thought it would work."
"There's no time for that now." She waved off his apology. "How did Moloch get past the wards?"
"I shut them down."
"A trap?" Moloch asked. "I'm a king of Hell, you insolent mortal." The demon lord kicked the lock away, freezing David in place. "Whatever made you think you could best me?"
"He might not, but I will," Olivia said defiantly. "I won't let you hurt him. I won't let you hurt anyone I love." She was panicked about David, but she was also afraid for her sisters. Their disappearance before the demon lord's arrival couldn't be a coincidence.
"You won't let me?" Moloch's booming voice echoed, shaking the kitchen. "YOU WON'T LET ME? Who in Hell do you think you are, little minion. You walk this earth by my will, not your own."
Olivia, undeterred, faced Moloch's arrogance. "I'm going to kick your ass, red eyes."
“Brave and foolish Olivia. You really think you can move against me?” Moloch asked, amused.
“I’m willing to try.” Terror forced bile up her throat and she grimaced at the sour taste. “How about you hold still while I shove my heel into your forehead.”
“Even if you managed to do that, it wouldn’t work. Just like David’s stupid little trap didn’t work,” Moloch retorted.
Gritting her teeth, Olivia demanded, “Where are my sisters? What did you do with them?”
“They’re safe. For now,” Moloch replied, circling David. He turned David's face toward Olivia and remarked, “He’s remarkably well-preserved for a man in his eighties. I admit he fooled me. I’d really believed he’d died.” Moloch licked David’s face, prompting Olivia's disgusted response.
Gross. "Stop that," she demanded.
“David has the distinctive taste of sanctimonious bullshit. An angel’s bargain,” said Moloch, slobbering on David’s cheek again. “That explains how he got hold of the angel grace.” Moloch paused, then added, “And not just any angel.”
“Stop licking him. He’s not a Tootsie Pop.”
“Don’t worry, Olivia. I’m not interested in his juicy center.” Moloch pursed his lips, muttering, “So clever. He was always a clever boy.” Olivia questioned Moloch's words. Did their history go back further than she thought?
“Yes,” Moloch nodded. “This changes things.” He walked paced back and forth, lost in thought.
David’s cheek glistened with Moloch’s saliva, leaving Olivia repulsed. She wanted to douse the man in sanitizer and then confront him for lying. But first, she had to deal with Moloch and rescue her family. “You release my sisters right now!”
Moloch, his patience thin, crossed his arms crossed over his chest, challenged, "Or what?"
Cold fear gripped Olivia. “You can’t do anything to my sisters, or you’ll nullify our bargain.”
"Re-locating ghosts to a different plane of existence doesn’t break the deal,” Moloch declared. “I haven’t hurt them or tried to take their souls.”
"The book," Olivia said, her eyes wide with desperation. She sprinted to the table, her action fueled by urgency, and snatched the book up. She almost tripped over her own feet as she hurried back to the demon lord with his prize. "Here," she said, her voice trembling as she offered the book to Moloch. "Now, release my sisters and leave David alone."
As the demon lord reached out, the Sefer HaShedim suddenly burst into flames.
Olivia screamed and dropped the blazing book as the heat singed her hand. It fell to the ground, not with the expected thud but with a brittle crackling. Her mouth went agape as the pages disintegrated into delicate flakes of ash. The glowing embers danced like fireflies as the once tangible relic of Moloch's victory was now reduced to remnants.
Astonishment colored Moloch's face as his fingers, still poised mid-air, trembled with the shock that reverberated through his entire being. His red eyes had turned burnt umber, and his lips pulled back as he bared his teeth at her.
Oh, shit. Olivia took a couple of steps back, putting a few feet of distance between them.
The muscles in Moloch's jaw clenched so tight that it seemed as though they might crack under the pressure. “What have you done, Olivia?” His voice, once measured, now resonated with a low, guttural growl.
“I...I...Nothing. I didn’t do anything.” Olivia had seen Moloch irritated plenty of times, but she’d never seen him so furious. His rage frightened her. “Don’t punish my sisters, please. I promise I didn’t try to trick you.” Why had the Sefer HaShedim burst into flames?
As he turned to face David, his scowl deepened, carving lines of wrath across his face. “Clever boy, indeed." He spat the words like venom. "Handing out angel grace like it’s candy and then placing an infernal curse on my book.” His brow dipped. “I will rip him to shreds.” The promise of retribution, delivered through gritted teeth, carried a tangible weight.
“Don’t hurt David!”
The air vibrated with the raw, unbridled anger that surged through Moloch. “I’m not talking about lover boy.” Moloch's words sliced through the air with a chilling edge, dismissing David as though he were an inconsequential detail in the larger, more sinister narrative.
Olivia's breath caught, her eyes widening in realization that the threat loomed larger and more ominous than she had ever imagined. “Then who?”
“Since the book no longer exists, you still owe me a soul.” Moloch declared, his voice carrying a weight that settled heavily in the room.
The walls felt as if they were closing in on every side. “But, I gave you the book.” Panic etched lines on Olivia's face, and her hands shook as she grappled with a solution.
“And I could not take possession of it." His eyes flashed with a sly gleam, betraying the amusement he derived from Olivia's distress. "Therefore, it does not meet the conditions of our deal." A dismissive wave of his hand punctuated his words, as if casually discarding anything that dared to challenge his Hell-scorned logic. "But don’t worry, Olivia. I have another offer that will satisfy your minion’s bargain and will get you your sisters back immediately."
"Whatever it takes," Olivia said.
His gaze locked onto her with an intensity that bordered on predatory. “I want David’s soul.”
"No," she snapped. "Name something else."
Moloch rolled his hands in a flourish. "I want what I want."
“Yeah, well, I want to chop you into pieces and drop all those pieces into an acid bath, but hey, I guess neither one of us are getting what we want.” Fear for David made her insolent—that, and knowing Moloch couldn’t actually force her to bargain with David’s soul. Instead, she opted for her own logic. “I still have three and a half days to get you a soul, any soul of my choosing. That’s our original bargain. The same one where you promised my sisters would never come to harm as long as I did my job.”
With a condescending tilt of his head, he looked down at Olivia, his eyes narrowing with a hint of irritation. "Yes," he began, his voice dripping with exasperation, "and they are protected." He rubbed the bridge of his nose then continued, his tone becoming more clipped. "No harm will come to your sisters." His smugness returned as he defined the exact terms of their bargain. "As long as you get me a soul for this decade and finish the rest of your fifty years as my minion."
He splayed his hands as if offering her a concession, but Olivia knew he wouldn't give up this easily on his ultimate goal. "However…," she said.
A derisive smirk played on his lips as he dropped the bomb. "However," he held up his finger, "getting to keep your sisters with you was never part of the deal."
"No," she gasped. "You wouldn't..."
"Wouldn't I?" Moloch countered. "I thought having them with you would be a good reminder for you of what you have to lose," he explained, his tone almost mocking in its delivery. "But now I think having them with you has made you petulant and rebellious." The disdain in his voice was palpable.
A fine sheen of sweat beaded her forehead, as she warred between rage and terror. "Please don’t take them from me. I won’t hunt demons anymore," she promised, the vow carrying the weight of a last-ditch effort to appease manipulative demon lord. "I’ll do my job. I won’t cause any more problems.”
“They are safe as kittens in a box, Olivia, but I can make their holding spaces unpleasant." The fiery red of his irises burned with otherworldly intensity. "Fifty years is a long time to live isolated from everyone you love. And I’m afraid the twins aren’t doing well without each other.”
Olivia lost her self for a moment and approached Moloch. She stopped just short of actually touching him. “You’re not keeping them together?” She hated the desperation in her tone.
“I promised safety, not happiness," Moloch explained.
“Please, Mol—” She steeled her will. “Master.” The word tasted like ash on her tongue, but she’d shed every ounce of her pride for her sisters. “What do I have to do to get them back?”
“I already told you. Get me David’s soul.”
“No. Please. Anything else but that,” Olivia said, frustrated.
“Only that,” he said resolutely. He tapped his imaginary watch. “Tick tock. This offer ends when your decade is up. I’d hate to see it be the end of you and your family.”
Tears wet Olivia's eyes. “I hate you.”
“You can hate me all you want.” He actually looked proud as the words came out of his mouth. “As long as you obey me.” He cupped Olivia's chin and kissed her forehead. The soft brush of his lips made revulsion ripple through her. He chuckled. “Now be a good girl and get me what I want. The sooner, the better. Being stuck in Limbo for three and a half days can feel like three and a half centuries. Those little Southern Belles are wilting as we speak.”
Without fanfare, Moloch disappeared from the room.
David inhaled noisily as the freeze spell Moloch cast on him went away with the demon. “Where’d he go?”
“I don’t know.” The numbness she’d felt left her body and anger replaced it.
She crossed the kitchen to the fridge, got onto her hands and knees, and retrieved the unholy lock from underneath. She stood and tossed the bloody disc onto the table before turning on David.
She jabbed her finger into his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He was alive. David was alive. And he was young. Even with an angel bargain, whatever that was, how in the hell could he be alive? This revelation complicated her already complicated life. It wasn’t possible. At least it shouldn’t be.
David caught Olivia's hand as she directed a slap at his face. “I did it for you, Liv. I can’t save you, but I thought I could save your sisters. I thought I could help you stop making bargains for souls.” His expression softened. “I know how much it hurt you to make those bargains.”
Olivia went numb again, blinking through the tears. Moloch wanted David’s soul. He wanted it in exchange for her sisters. He’d outsmarted her. Outsmarted them both. She couldn’t do it. Could she? Could she trade David for her sisters?
“Do you even have a grandson?”
“Yes,” David said. “Tristan really is a lawyer in Chicago. After Thomas died, his wife took my grandson and moved away. I figured it was for the best given my dealings with the supernatural.”
Olivia shook her head. “So, Thomas really died when Tristan was two? That wasn't a lie."
"I've kept track of my grandson, but we're not in touch." His eyes searched hers for understanding. A gentle intensity colored his features. "I've accepted my choices. I've dealt with my losses. All but one. You," he confessed, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging in the air.
A delicate sob caught in Olivia's throat. In that vulnerable moment, David wrapped her in his arms. His embrace was a refuge, a sanctuary where pain and solace intermingled.
"It's okay, sweetheart." The warmth of his voice was a soothing balm. "We'll figure this out. We'll get your sisters back."
As he spoke, his wet hair brushed against her cheek. In that instance, Olivia became hyper-aware of the physical contact between them.
"Uhm, David?" she hesitated, her voice a soft murmur.
"Yes," he responded, his lips near her ear.
The warmth of his breath sent a shiver across her skin. "Maybe you should put some more clothes on," she suggested.
He leaned back, his heated gaze meeting hers. "Or not." The playful suggestion hung like an invitation.
A nervous laugh bubbled up from her throat. "You're awful. When did you become awful?"
He pushed a strand of her hair back from her face, his touch gentle as he cupped her cheek. "When you left me, Liv. That's when."
She sighed, a mixture of exasperation and fondness. "How about you get dressed, we go to the Burger Bar, and you tell me all about you and this angel deal you made? Then we can try and figure out just how screwed we are."
David raised his brow.
She smacked his chest and stepped back, unable to keep her gaze from wandering down the length of his naked torso and to those deliciously unbuttoned jeans. "You know what I mean." Her gaze snapped back to his face. “Go. Get. Dressed.”
“Fine. I’m going.” He picked up the unholy lock. “But first, I need to turn the wards back on and put this useless piece of crap away.” He stared at the bloody mouth of Eve. “I thought it would work,” he repeated. “I thought you’d be free.”
“I’ll never be free,” Olivia said sadly. “Never.”