Read Online Once You Go Demon (Pure Souls) by Killian McRae - Free Book Online
Authors: Killian McRae
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right?”
“No, probably not.”
“Beyond that,” she continued, “nothing I couldn’t really figure out before. Made me think a bit, though.”
“About what, early retirement?”
She gave a little half smile. What a thrill seeing her happy did for him, even if it proved to be temporary. The next moment, the expression evidenced her resentment. Dourly, she held out her hand and opened the door.
“No, inheritances, actually.” Riona’s cryptic comment was made only more strange when she followed it with, “When we were together, you never met my mom.”
He was thoroughly confused. “You said you two really didn’t get along, and I kind of knew our relationship wasn’t really heading toward a let’s-meet-each-other’s-families-and-look-at-baby-pictures milestone. Why?”
“I know you’ve lived in Hell, Jerry. I only hope that’s prepared you for the likes of Molly Dade.”
Chapter 8
Chipper’s standard-issue Ray-Bans measured the width of the cracking door. The glare of the midday sun bounced off the polished lenses and would have made Ramiel wince, if angels’ eyes weren’t immune to the sting of such things. What was solar reflection when your optic capacity could behold Big Boss’s radiance and barely blink? Even though the club had closed hours ago, the faint stench of stale beer, sweat, and smoke emanated from the interior, drifting on the breeze as it mixed with the chilly November air. Add to that the hint of eau d’bouncer , and the taste that landed on Ramiel’s palate was enough to make one wish for a passing skunk to chance by and relieve him of the suffering.
The muscularly-blessed employee of the goddess was just north of the hangover border and the bed sheets. Oily residue slicked over his five-o’clock shadow. His shaved head glistened like salmon eyes at the fish market.
“You live here?”
Chipper smacked his lips a few times and inhaled deeply. “It’s part of the job description.”
“She pay you enough for that?”
“You think my sorry ass would be five-to-ninin’ it in a converted storage room if she didn’t?” His hand rose to his face, pushing his sunglasses up the arch of his nose as he cleared the sleep from his eyes. “What do you want?”
“She in?”
“Yeah. Didn’t say she was expecting anyone this morning, though, or I’d have put on a kettle for tea.”
“Do I of all people need to be penciled in?” Ramiel raised his hand to the door, tapping it with his fingertips. “Now let me in, or I’ll huff and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your whole bar down.”
“A canine reference. Cute. I never hear those.”
Ramiel inhaled deep and quick, puffing his cheeks to their full flesh-limited capacity.
“Whoa, okay.” A shudder passed through the bouncer. Not much rattled Chipper’s cage, but when an archangel connected with the destruction of Jericho did something like that, you gave it more than a few grains of salt. You gave it a whole carton of Morton’s. “I didn’t think you’d actually do something. You’re not going to, are you?”
“I only meant it as a figure of speech, but it depends on your letting me in or not. Pretty please, puppy?”
The Grotto wore the same clothes in the day as it did in the night. The only difference was the body, or bodies, within. While the local frat boys and scholastic betties packed it from beams to barstools after dark, the midday residents only included Chipper and a few other employees, running vacuums or restocking bottles behind the bar.
The bouncer turned his chin back over his shoulder as he guided the pair around tables on which peg-legged chairs rested overturned. “You want anything? Kitchen’s not open yet, but I could see if we got anything left over from last night.”
“You know I don’t need to eat, right?”
“Yeah, but I figured I’d take a stab at being all hospitable and shit.”
“Yeah, you killed it. Just want to see the owner, thanks.”
“Yup.”
At the top of the
“No, probably not.”
“Beyond that,” she continued, “nothing I couldn’t really figure out before. Made me think a bit, though.”
“About what, early retirement?”
She gave a little half smile. What a thrill seeing her happy did for him, even if it proved to be temporary. The next moment, the expression evidenced her resentment. Dourly, she held out her hand and opened the door.
“No, inheritances, actually.” Riona’s cryptic comment was made only more strange when she followed it with, “When we were together, you never met my mom.”
He was thoroughly confused. “You said you two really didn’t get along, and I kind of knew our relationship wasn’t really heading toward a let’s-meet-each-other’s-families-and-look-at-baby-pictures milestone. Why?”
“I know you’ve lived in Hell, Jerry. I only hope that’s prepared you for the likes of Molly Dade.”
Chapter 8
Chipper’s standard-issue Ray-Bans measured the width of the cracking door. The glare of the midday sun bounced off the polished lenses and would have made Ramiel wince, if angels’ eyes weren’t immune to the sting of such things. What was solar reflection when your optic capacity could behold Big Boss’s radiance and barely blink? Even though the club had closed hours ago, the faint stench of stale beer, sweat, and smoke emanated from the interior, drifting on the breeze as it mixed with the chilly November air. Add to that the hint of eau d’bouncer , and the taste that landed on Ramiel’s palate was enough to make one wish for a passing skunk to chance by and relieve him of the suffering.
The muscularly-blessed employee of the goddess was just north of the hangover border and the bed sheets. Oily residue slicked over his five-o’clock shadow. His shaved head glistened like salmon eyes at the fish market.
“You live here?”
Chipper smacked his lips a few times and inhaled deeply. “It’s part of the job description.”
“She pay you enough for that?”
“You think my sorry ass would be five-to-ninin’ it in a converted storage room if she didn’t?” His hand rose to his face, pushing his sunglasses up the arch of his nose as he cleared the sleep from his eyes. “What do you want?”
“She in?”
“Yeah. Didn’t say she was expecting anyone this morning, though, or I’d have put on a kettle for tea.”
“Do I of all people need to be penciled in?” Ramiel raised his hand to the door, tapping it with his fingertips. “Now let me in, or I’ll huff and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your whole bar down.”
“A canine reference. Cute. I never hear those.”
Ramiel inhaled deep and quick, puffing his cheeks to their full flesh-limited capacity.
“Whoa, okay.” A shudder passed through the bouncer. Not much rattled Chipper’s cage, but when an archangel connected with the destruction of Jericho did something like that, you gave it more than a few grains of salt. You gave it a whole carton of Morton’s. “I didn’t think you’d actually do something. You’re not going to, are you?”
“I only meant it as a figure of speech, but it depends on your letting me in or not. Pretty please, puppy?”
The Grotto wore the same clothes in the day as it did in the night. The only difference was the body, or bodies, within. While the local frat boys and scholastic betties packed it from beams to barstools after dark, the midday residents only included Chipper and a few other employees, running vacuums or restocking bottles behind the bar.
The bouncer turned his chin back over his shoulder as he guided the pair around tables on which peg-legged chairs rested overturned. “You want anything? Kitchen’s not open yet, but I could see if we got anything left over from last night.”
“You know I don’t need to eat, right?”
“Yeah, but I figured I’d take a stab at being all hospitable and shit.”
“Yeah, you killed it. Just want to see the owner, thanks.”
“Yup.”
At the top of the
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