Life as a New Hire Ch. 46

She stabbed the dagger at Theddy. I clamped my hand down on her wrist. The claws of her left hand came down on my constraining wrist. My free hand came down on that hand, trying to pry it free. It was a hopeless struggle ... except.

Yes, my old friend 'except'. Except the avatar was holding the dagger. As powerful as Ītzpāpālōtl was, she wasn't pushing against me. She was pushing against Sarrat Irkalli.

Ītzpāpālōtl was a living, breathing terror machine who killed and received sacrifices on a regular basis.

Sarrat Irkalli hadn't been actively worshipped in 3,000 years.

Uneven contest? Oh yeah.

See, Ītzpāpālōtl had spent the past 500 years continuously fighting against the Weave to keep her fingers on this side of reality.

Meanwhile, for the most part, Sarrat Irkalli had sat upon her throne in the Sumerian Underworld with hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of souls toiling under her watchful gaze for ETERNITY. Sure, her version of Hell wasn't getting any fresh deposits, but she knew how to milk the system well.

Even the bad karma for the dagger's creation wasn't hers. She'd stolen it from the foolish Gong Tau sorcerers who had meant to enslave my soul, aka one-third of the Baraqu-Alal-Cáel deal she'd worked out millennia ago. It was the Weave giving her a 'freebie' for playing by the rules ... if you considered the Weave sentient.

And now Ītzpāpālōtl was touching it. Whoops. It wasn't as if Ītzpāpālōtl was stupid. It isn't like there are tons of magic weapons running around, much less soul-munchers like the one I had. Rationally, who would give a novice like me, a weapon like this? I say again, 'whoops'.

Once I'd figured this out, I couldn't stop being me.

"Theddy, do you like girls?"

"What?" she squeaked. Here was this psycho trying to drive a Smilodon incisor into her bosom and I was giving her a sex quiz.

Ītzpāpālōtl was really starting to struggle now.

"I ... ah ... are you okay?" she continued.

"Oh, I'm dandy. I'm serious. You think this chick is hot? I mean, would you do her in a three-way?" I proposed casually.

"Timothy?" Sovann.

"Bro?" Timothy to me.

"It's all good. Sovann, you want to know what my life is like? This lady who came to discuss business with me today is an immortal mass murderer. You give the word, I'll let go and this knife is going to cut her up like a Ginsu blade on market day because just cutting her heart out isn't going to be enough. Worse. Eventually she'll get back up."

"Timothy?" Sovann repeated, this time with more concern. He thought I was nuts. I released my left hand. The blade flipped up, twisting in the avatar's grasp. That was the point her minions figured out something was wrong.

"El Amado?" the priestess-savant called out softly. The three goons began reaching for 'things'.

"Call them off, or I open my other hand," I cautioned the avatar. She spared me a swift, hostile look. My fingers tingled.

"Esten quietos!" she snapped. They stopped.

"Cáel, bad day, or not. This isn't you. Stop it. The girl's in danger," Timothy spoke up. He didn't mean Theddy. He meant the avatar.

"I'm being a real asshole, aren't I?" I sighed.

"Pretty much. You never let the bitches get to you before. Girl pops an attitude, you smile and move on. Life is too short," he reminded me. Too true.

"I'm going to put my hand over the blade," I told Ītzpāpālōtl. "When I do, you can let go."

She didn't say anything for several seconds, even after my left hand covered the semi-serrated edge.

"Why should I trust you?" she sizzled.

"Because 'me' letting anything bad happen to you would make me a total, judgmental jerk. I don't know you. Whatever you did before you showed up today shouldn't matter to me. I acted stupidly. I should have stopped you. I didn't. I didn't even warn you and I could have. I was angry ... and not even at you. Just angry and I apologize. Now, let go."

"Why?"

"Hi. I'm Cáel Nyilas. Can I have my knife back? Please?"

Blink. She released it. For a millisecond, it wanted to do something else because bitches are bitches. It didn't, so my palm wasn't sliced open. My right hand took the hilt. I carefully put the blade away.

"Yes," Theddy gulped.

"Huh?" Sovann shook his head at the sudden evaporation of the life and death tension. Welcome to my life. Theddy meant 'yes' to the 'girl-girl-guy' thing I had proposed earlier. It pays to keep things prioritized.

"What is this movie you were talking about?" Ītzpāpālōtl asked. Had she forgiven me for anything which had transpired? Bwahahaha ... no way. She was taking the initiative and going with Option 1 from my earlier insane diatribe.

"Wait!" Sovann nearly shouted. "You nearly ... I don't know - threatened Cáel's life and tried to stab Theddy and now you think you can go with us to a movie?"

"I told you," Timothy put an arm around his shoulder, "life with Cáel is rarely dull."

"I thought you meant he was fun to party with, or something like that," Sovann looked up at his lover. "I thought his uncle showing up ... and trying to kill him and then being blown the fuck away by those women and federal agents ... and that other girl who pointed a gun at us ... is this the new normal?"

"I love you, Sovann," Timothy grew compassionate. "Cáel is my best friend. He'd never deliberately hurt either of us and normal friends are something he has in short supply. Today being a great case in point."

Ten seconds passed.

"The title is 'As Above, So Below'," Sovann addressed the avatar, "and what do we call you?"

Since 'if you are not a worshiper and addressing me, I normally am about to kill you' would sound really cool in Olmec-ic, but I might be asked to translate,

"How about we go with 'Obsidian', please?" I pleaded with her.

She knew I was currying favor now ~ and behaving like a weather vane caught in the wall of a tornado ~ she gave a gracious bow of her head.

"Obsidian will do for now. Is the Legend of the dagger 'business'?" Translation: it had better not be.

"No," I smiled. "It's pillow talk." Rancor - 'how presumptuous' - followed by 'but that dagger ups the count to THREE Goddess interested in him' - and next to recalling all the trivial babble about me being a sexual dynamo (I prayed my PR was that good) having some relevance. Her chimera emotions allowed me to get a few more crucial words out ... because even women who aren't sleeping with me are jealous.

"Esta mujer fue la primera en ofrecer bienes funerarios tras la muerte de mi padre," I reinserted Theddy back into my close company. For some reason, Obsidian considered me unreliable thus had to verify what I'd just said.

"Did you make funerary offering upon his father's passing?" she asked Theddy. Let's think about this. The wacko chick questioning Theddy had tried to stab a huge freaking blade into her not a minute ago. Fleeing in terror while screaming for the cops? Nope.

"Yes. I baked him some walnut and caramel chip cookies," she nodded. "It is a family recipe." Sovann looked over the three of us, then back to Timothy.

"I told you 'that's impressive dicking like I've never seen before'," he explained.

"She may remain," Obsidian 'permitted'. Theddy wrapped up my right arm with her left and gave it a squeeze. She wanted attention/explanation.

"Obsidian is a Master Vampire, Theddy," I leaned in and whispered. "Before she was turned, she was captured in a raid by the fey, mentally, spiritually and physically raped and made into their sex-slave. Part of her spirit never healed properly. While this imperfection allows her to walk around in daylight, her heart can never hold on to any emotion for long, so she is forced to forever seek passion, no matter how dangerous, from the world around her."

Revealing secrets? Ha. I had noticed Theddy had every work done by Laurel K. Hamilton in her place, including the comic book series.

"You are not supposed to know, so act like I didn't tell you anything, okay?"

'Okay,' she mouthed back at me. I could see it in her eyes. My chaotic life suddenly 'made sense' to her because a best-selling fiction author said so.

[...]

Obsidian thought the movie was ... HILARIOUS. She couldn't stop snickering, giggling and poking at me as horrible shit happened to the various actors. She thought the plot was 'insightful' and wouldn't stop whispering to me throughout the entire thing. During the closing credits, I told her I'd get her the DVD for Christmas ~ she knew the concept behind digital technology, but didn't own any ~ she kissed me.

The first kiss was fierce and joyous with the added benefit of her tongue doing things no normal tongue could do - it stretched. Not sure how I felt about that. The second kiss was more sultry, longer and came with some accompanying body action which ... I'm no virgin. Not even close. She was on my left side, so when she twisted in her seat, her left leg insinuated itself between mine. Her left hand cupped my jaw and held my head in place as her lips played along mine.

A dance of the scorpion perhaps? Tender at first, then suddenly stabbing, dominant and brutal. My lips and tongue battled back, using my superior Kiss-fu to nullify her natural strength and agility. She liked it. By her moaning, she liked it a lot. As the kiss progressed, more and more of her flowed from her seat into my seat, body facing me. Her body rose over mine, forcing my neck back to maintain contact.

"So, Dot Ishara is hovering around somewhere close, isn't she?" I murmured as our lips separated barely a centimeter apart. One chick kissing you to make another one jealous. It's happened to me plenty of times. Obsidian didn't give a damn about Theddy, or any other mortal woman in close proximity so ...

"Yes," she purred. "Do you mate with her?"

"A man does not brag of such things ... but no, unless heavy petting counts?"

"What will she do to you when I steal your seed?"

'When'? Why was I not surprised? Why was I not surprised another concussion was in my immediate future either? Was it possible I was ... learning?

"Chastise me for not fighting harder," I breathed across her lips, "and, in case you forgot, I'm on a date with the girl beside me."

"Who I care nothing for," she sent a cruelly playful look Theddy's way. Wisely, the girl shivered.

"Who I am indebted to and how I honor my debts might matter to you," I hazarded. My words hurt Theddy's feelings. That was on purpose. Obsidian took pleasure in me hurting Theddy because she was basically a vicious monster.

"Yes?" I pressed her gently.

"Yes," Obsidian allowed, easing up slightly both romantically and physically.

"And Theddy, if you believe I'm with you solely because of some sense of obligation, you clearly haven't been listening to your recordings," I shot the human girl a wink.

"Oh."

"Am I, or am I not, a sex-obsessed little monkey?" I teased her. Theddy giggled. I paid for my diversion with four obsidian claws to my ribs outside of Theddy's view. After all, it wasn't like Theddy could possibly compete with her for my attention. Considering Obsidian's legendary ability to rip open her opponent's ribcages and feast upon their hearts ... I slipped my left hand - the one next to her between her legs and stroked her cotton-slacks covered pussy.

Theddy hugged my right arm and put her head against my shoulder. Not to be outdone,

"¿Qué un centenar de hombres se quemaron vivos como el sonido?" Obsidian inquired with sexually sadistic hunger. Ah, memories of burning 7P Commandos.

Whoops. Theddy knew Spanish.

"No lo sé. Tenían respiradores en," I replied casually. "Si lo desea, puedo describir lo que se siente al tirar de una flecha de guerra lanzar mi propio muslo."

"Eep," slipped out of Theddy's lips.

"Why did you do that?" Obsidian looked over us both.

"Well, I was showing a little girl I believed in her ..."

"And she shot you?" Theddy gulped.

"No. She hit the target I was standing next to. A co-worker mistook me for a cardboard cutout of a Jehovah's Witness and let fly. Seems she had issues with organized religion as well as a reaction to the oscillation effect of florescent lighting and ceiling fans."

"But why did you pull the arrow out?" Theddy asked. "Couldn't you wait until you got to the hospital?"

"Mosquito," Obsidian menaced, insinuating Theddy was a pest.

"I wasn't thinking rationally at the moment ... I work in an asylum ... I had a hot date in a few hours ... any of those three will do," I smiled at Theddy.

"Copil such as Cáel don't bother with petty human conventions," Obsidian turned my gaze back her way with her hand on my jaw. 'Copil's were 'god-touched' in her lingo.

"More than one girl?" Theddy mused.

"Four."

"Okay," she sighed happily.

"Theddy, three under-age girls and the police office he was dating acting as their chaperone," Timothy intervened. "He hurried home so he could keep a promise to the children, not for sex." Bastard. He really was my best friend. He didn't mention my post-injury, pre-festivity sex with Odette giving me a few extra, urgently needed Brownie Points to suggest I might be a decent human being.

"You are a wonderful guy," Theddy ran a fingernail over my free hand. Clearly I was 'wonderful' enough to risk Obsidian's anger over. The screen went blank as the last credits scrolled away and the room was plunged into darkness. Five seconds later, the lights snapped on.

PAIN!

"Fuck," I hissed. It wasn't any extra physical trauma causing me discomfort. No, a metaphysical dam had burst within and my stream of conscious thought had been turned into a white-water rapids. The competing cyclones of thoughts in my mind had stopped cooperating and my hypothalamus was letting me know I was in danger.

"Cáel", "Cáel", "Bro", and "Ishara" all came in rapid succession. I needed some space both tangible and social.

"I need to step outside," I eased Obsidian off me and stood up. My sense of my personal danger was ratcheting up. While I had been studying Obsidian - so I could screw her - I had discovered more and more Alal-badness.

The light display had ignited a series of pressing implanted memories which had been clamoring for my attention. Things like not all 'divinities' were stewards of the Weave. Some even wanted its destruction, preferring risking all on a chaotic restructuring of reality over what existed now ~ things like Obsidian. They weren't attempting to do so because they thought they had no chance.

But there was. A real serious chance to unravel reality existed; and it was staring her in the face. It wasn't 'me' as in 'I was the Anti-Christ'. But with the torrent of memories pouring forth, I knew where the peril lay and I was completely responsible for it. Hell, I was a prime ally of Armageddon and hadn't even known it.

'Holy Shit!'

I blinked. Timothy was shaking me. We were out in the lobby.

"Oh my God, Timothy," I nearly wept. "What am I going to do?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about. Is there someone you can talk to about this?" he suggested. Normal folks were around us. Obsidian was at my side. Sovann was behind Timothy with an arm around Theddy's shoulder.

"Theddy," I looked at her. "Can I catch up with you later? I just realized I've screwed up something fierce." I put my best 'really don't want to go but I gotta' face on. Her worried look brightened, she slipped around Timothy and gave me a tingling French kiss.

"I'll hold you to that, Cáel," she murmured when we parted.

"Timothy, go home ... I got shit to deal with," I hoped my grin didn't become as feeble as I felt it to be.

"I ..." he started to say something. "Time not to ask questions?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"Wait." I pulled us to the side and went on to my toes, leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Tell Pamela 'he' sent Ajax to kill the Professor, his family and the sisters. They were the targets all along. It wasn't me, or the other women. Just in case ..."

"Okay," Timothy patted my arm. It was cryptic. It was the best I could do. See ... I wanted to cry so badly.

{2:09 pm Sunday, September 7th ~ Last day}

[WHERE TO BEGIN?]

Every mythology across the globe has some creature, or creatures, which threatens Existence. Usually a God, or a Hero-God, slays the creature and everything is right with the world ... except such a being, being older than Existence itself, can't really die, so they are carved up, buried ~ what have you.

Illuyankamunus was one such manifestation of this underlying cancerous desire to destroy reality. He'd had a far more real child - SzélAnya - and she's never quite given up on her dad. Of far greater critical importance, she was 'part' of Illuyankamunus, somewhat in the way I was part of Alal and Baraqu. And yes, that meant all the offspring of Bolu, the guy I'd praised a few hours earlier, held the seeds of that malignant deity as well.

And Alal knew it. He hadn't been killing off the descendants. He'd left that task up to a group far more capable of the task - the Egyptian Rite, who knew a fucking threat to existence when they saw it. Lest I forget, NO secret society are the 'good guys'. Also lest I forget, I alone decided to go after the Arinniti sons to fulfill Vranus' quest. I had no divine mandate I was aware of nor any real world orders.

Inadvertently, I had rounded up the last five mortal remains of Illuyankamunus in one place for convenient disposal in a remote Transylvanian town. The only problem was: if someone didn't get to them quickly, I was also about to whisk them into the loving (and heavy-armed) protective embrace of the Amazon Host, where the completion of centuries of culling would have suddenly become a cast-iron bitch instead of a simple disposal.

Enter Ajax. Yeah, I bet the Egyptians were trying to figure out how I stopped him as well as Alal. I thought I was being clever by not telling most of the world. In fact, they most likely suspected; and the reality of SzélAnya watching over me was much more terrifying. Ishara had put a serious curse on the Amazons, yet her curse only affected her followers, the Amazons, who were fair game.

SzélAnya had killed someone for me ... and I hadn't been one of her followers. Thus I had committed a blasphemous act only a magician of some significant ability could have managed. I wasn't a sorcerer, but I had a cornucopia of mystic knowledge rolling around in my noggin. Trying to figure all this out was one of my major headaches.

The others?

I even suspected I knew who betrayed me ~ kinda. They didn't do it on purpose. At least I hope they didn't, because my odds-on favorite was my Mother by way of Captain Delilah Faircloth. Realistically, there was only one secret society who might help her against Grandpa and that was the Egyptian Rite ... and they did send three people to Dad's funeral including two 'somebodies'. I'm an idiot.

I'd chatted away in fluent New Kingdom Egyptian and it never occurred to me how odd it was for two of them to also be so fluent in it. Know it - sure, but as fluent as Kimberly had taught me to be? That should have been a Red Flag.

The Earth & Sky had sent Iskender - who should have been the benchmark I judged the other delegations by ... damn it.

Three Condos? They'd killed my Dad and their guys had been flunkies.

The 7 Pillars had been nobodies, which they'd proven by their inaction.

Now I had to question why I had THREE ACTUAL 9 CLANS ASSASSINS at my dad's funeral too. Holy Ishara, I wasn't nearly paranoid enough.

Anyway, why would the Amazons be aiding and abetting the End of All Life on Earth? Normally, they wouldn't be, but 3000 years ago, the majority of Human life did a colossal dump on the Amazons. And when they needed help, they got it in the form of SzélAnya and her dual-sex followers. I seriously doubt they told the Amazons their purpose was to resurrect SzélAnya's daddy. I imagine the Amazons didn't pry too much either.