Happily Ever Awkward (The H.E.A. Files, #1)(45)
A second briefcase plopped down beside the first. This one was opened by a thuggish man wearing a stocking cap, and his case contained stacks of hundred-dollar bills.
The two men exchanged the briefcases and carefully checked their respective contents. Behind them, each man was accompanied by his own group of dangerous-looking associates who watched the other man’s group of dangerous-looking associates very carefully.
Apparently, the dangerous-looking associates would not need to become involved in the negotiations, because the two men closed the briefcases and started to leave.
That was when the wind began to pick up.
Papers swirled about the alley and tin cans clattered against the walls.
Jagged fingers of electric light cracked and popped about the area.
The air above the alley twisted open and a very large pair of demonic feet dropped through the swirling portal. They landed on top of the car and crushed it, blasting its windows outward in sprays of glass.
Worrt the Demon, slightly dazed, surveyed the scene around him then fumbled out his map in confusion. “Is this Earth?”
The two men, armed with their briefcases and their groups of dangerous-looking associates, stared in disbelief at the unexpected newcomer, but they did not stare for long. As one, they pulled an array of weapons from their belts and opened fire, blasting Worrt off the car.
“The cops!” they said.
“Waste him!” they yelled.
“Get outta here!” they shouted.
“It’s a Terminator!” they cried.
Worrt ran for cover as the bullets continued to ricochet off his demonic hide. The men ran for the street, only to find a bunch of police cars screeching to a stop, blocking their escape.
Bullets flew in every direction.
Worrt crouched in the crossfire, frantically consulting his map.
“This can’t be right!” he said.
Ripping open a trans-dimensional doorway in the opposite wall of the alley, Worrt dodged the hail of bullets and lunged through. The portal winked shut behind him.
There were some places in the omniverse even Demons feared to tread.
32
HERO TIME
Jack’s limp body floated through the air. Four of the Fierce Flitterling gang carried him, one flying at the end of each limb. They allowed his head to loll backward, drooling saliva across his unconscious face.
Jack was no longer under the influence of flitter nectar, but following the previous evening’s binge, his body would be spending the next several hours trying to reassemble his personality, like a cocoon reassembles a caterpillar.
As they passed through the mushroom town on their way to the beach, Sheriff Levondyth waved at Paul from a distance, but when Flicker waved back, he hastily inchwormed away. Flicker seemed to be enjoying the wide berth the local Flitterlings gave her and her gang.
Laura guided Jack’s hungover body aboard the Sargasso Sphinx and helped the Flitterlings settle him in his cabin. Back on the deck, Blink the Poxie circled Paul in ceaseless orbit while the prince bid farewell to Flicker.
“Take care of yourself, my lord,” the Flitterling warlord said. “We do have our interests to protect. And a world to topple.”
It did not take long to launch the ship. The pier dove under the sea the moment they removed the mooring line, and soon they were sailing away from the dancing island with its smiling sun.
In their haste to depart, no one noticed the mysterious figure watching from the shadows of a giant mushroom, nor did they see the red carnation in his lapel.
Once the Sphinx had sailed beyond the magical influence of Saraan-Vishta and the ocean no longer resembled pink lemonade, Paul took Demog’s strap from his pocket and presented it to Blink. The little Poxie sniffed the strip of leather, tested the air with her finger, and then knifed ahead of the ship like a tiny star.
Paul spun the wheel to follow his gleaming green and purple guide. He remained at the wheel for hours, never taking his eyes from Blink, never allowing himself to deviate from his course, never thinking about what would happen when he reached his destination. The merest inkling of a hint of a thought about what might shortly happen turned his stomach into a raging cauldron, so Paul didn’t think about it. He watched the Poxie and nothing more.
Laura approached him with uncharacteristic shyness. When he didn’t acknowledge her, she hesitated then retreated to the stern of the ship and pretended to find something very important to do there.
Blink streaked ever onward.
The sea gradually shifted from a brilliant blue to a grungy green.
The Sphinx passed a seedy island outpost known as Vanguard, little more than a rock just big enough to hold a shabby tavern called The End of the World.
Laura helped Jack up to the helm. He draped himself over the rail and stared longingly at the receding silhouette of the island. “Great,” he said, his voice hoarse. “We’ve passed The End of the World, and I needed a drink.”
Paul ignored him, just like he was trying to ignore everything else, but his body became more and more tense as the Curse began to smell blood.
And then it was time. The Sphinx finally plowed through a wall of mist and the imposing shaft of the Shadowkeep loomed before them, the hovering Shadowship still tethered to the platform high above.
Blink darted back to Paul’s shoulder, shivering uncontrollably. Apparently she was not as tough as she looked. When Paul pulled alongside a rotting dock and a monstrous roar echoed from the cave below the Shadowkeep, poor Blink could take no more. With a little squeal, she arrowed back into the mist.