Happily Ever Awkward (The H.E.A. Files, #1)(50)

He was a little drunk, and as everyone knows, when one is operating a Demon, one should not drink alcohol.

“In fact, I will tell you stories!” he slurred. “It ain’t easy bein’ a Demon, you know — bedevilin’ human souls, comin’ up with new, more efficient methods of torment all the time… but I don’t wanna just be a Hell spawn all my life! I got dreams too, you know! Fall in lust with a succubus… live in my own private hell… picket fence of bleached spinal columns — but no!”

Worrt crushed the pewter mug in his paw, squirting a geyser of ale into the air.

“Some evil wizard tricks me into givin’ him immortality. Th’ next thing I know, I’m in a thousand pieces and he’s tossed me all over bleedin’ time and space! But I’m patient, I am. Put myself back together. Took an eternity. Had to crawl through the Netherhells on my lips till I found my limbs, I did. That’s right, on my lips.”

He pounded the bar with his fist and split it in half.

“On my lips! So don’t talk to me about bad days! But I did it anyway, and I found my way back to Earth so I could finally take my terrible, bloody, gooey, messy, sloppy, sticky revenge on this Seeboth guy and… NOW I CAN’T FIND HIM!”

He wheeled to face his captive audience and bellowed, “He’s moved! Can you believe it? Of all the stinkin’ luck!”

A drunk passed out near the bar jumped up in his seat, jolted awake by Worrt’s tirade. Through bleary eyes, he looked at the massive shape before him and the even more-massive pile of empty mugs behind it. Outraged, he rose unsteadily to his feet and staggered toward the bar.

“’Ey, lubber, save some o’ that ale fer us—”

Worrt swallowed him in a single gulp.

Everyone else in the tavern gulped as well, though their gulps did not involve swallowing a human being.

The barkeep flinched as Worrt reached over the counter, but the big Demon simply grabbed a keg with one paw before shambling off to a dark corner, the drunk thrashing inside his huge jowls the whole way.

“I deed to bwood,” Worrt said around his feisty mouthful. “And don’ bodder me while I’b didesting.”

None of the tavern’s patrons had any intention of bothering the Demon. They may have been the scum of the earth, but they weren’t fools.

The door slammed open.

Jack Bravado lurched inside. “Hey, what’s a sailor hafta do around here to get a drink?”

All eyes snapped to Jack, then they snapped to the darkest corner of the tavern. Worrt the Demon glowered at the intrusion.

Jack staggered to the bar. When the barkeep made no move to assist him, Jack began to feel a bit self-conscious, which was always his cue to begin blustering. “Oh, I get it, you think I look like I’ve had enough. Well, that’s no concern of yours! Jack Bravado knows when he’s had enough! Besides, you don’t know what I’ve just been through. Daring escapes, fighting pirates, partying with Flitterlings — and just now, I dropped a prince off to get slaughtered by some ‘Seeboth, Lord of Shadows’ guy…”

That got Worrt’s attention. He craned forward to listen. When the drunk in his mouth continued to thrash, Worrt punched his jowls to stun him a bit.

Jack continued his sob story for the barkeep. “I think I’m entitled to all the inebriation I can afford. Do you hear me? I would like a drink!” Still the barkeep refused to move. “Yeah, okay, okay, I do feel a little guilty for leaving him — but after the way he told me to… ah, never mind. Just get me good and drunk, I’ll forget all about it.”

Worrt disappeared from the corner in a puff of sulfur, leaving the drunk lying there confused and covered in Demon spit.

Worrt reappeared only a few inches tall, perched on Jack’s left shoulder. Leaning in toward the captain’s ear, he whispered, “You should go back to help your friend. Back to Seeboth…”

Although Jack clearly heard the words in his ear, he remained completely oblivious to the physical Devil sitting on his shoulder.

“All right, I know,” he said. He wasn’t sure who he was talking to — perhaps his conscience? — but it seemed to make perfect sense to him that he carry on a conversation with a strange, disembodied voice. “I suppose I should go back, but gods, what could I do? I can barely walk. I’m in no condition—”

Worrt punched his fist into Jack’s ear. The captain’s head slammed down against the bar and he shuddered, but when he leaned back up, his eyes cleared, the glaze left his face, and he stood straighter and cockier than ever.

“A mighty adventurer such as you could turn the tide of battle,” Worrt crooned.

Making an incredibly poor attempt at modesty, Jack sniffed and said, “On the other hand, I have been known to assume fairly epic proportions.”

“Mighty…” the Demon hissed.

“And I’ve wreaked as much havoc as the next hero — probably more.”

“Brave…”

“So I don’t like sea serpents — who does?”

“Leaving…”

“Yup, I think it’s time to go.” Jack stepped away from the bar and headed to the door. “Sorry I can’t stay, boys, but I got a siege to attend.”

“Seeboth…” Worrt chuckled.