Free 'Tween Heaven and Hell by Sam Cheever Page A

wagging his tongue suggestively while I gifted him with my
best repertoire of swear words, which he couldn’t hear but which made me feel
infinitely better for having delivered them.
    Oh for the early days of flight, when it had pretty much
just been me and a few confused looking birds up there.
    The Viper touched down in a part of Angel City that had lost
the war between modernization and decay when the wrong element had moved in
several years ago. Because of its innate goodness, with its scores of small,
tidy family homes, neatly mown and tended postage stamp yards and churches on
every corner, Ashland in the northern section of the city had been a perfect
target for demonic inhabitance. Nothing draws a demon in like goodness. There
is no sweeter thrill to a demon than destroying that which is good.
    I realized with a start that the nightclub I was about to
enter was Demonica, the heart and soul of Demondom, a truly trendy nightclub, a
really dangerous place to visit and the demon king’s main source of
questionable income. I hadn’t recognized the address when my client had given
it to me.
    King Abrine was even known to be around the place on most
nights. Rumor was he liked to scope out the clientele for future pleasure, or
pain, or both, depending on what the involved parties were into on any
particular night.
    I scowled at the gnarly-faced demon at the door and flashed
him my business card when he asked me to cough up a truly evil cover charge. He
screwed up his purplish-black face and curled an overly wide mouth at me when
he saw the name of my company, a trickle of drool rolled down his leathery
chin. “You here to vanquish one of my people, Phelps?”
    I smiled back with what I hoped was a much prettier smile
than he had offered me, with his chipped, gray teeth and scabby lips. I covered
the business card with my Strange Crimes badge, which was only sort of official
but which usually had the intended effect. “You know the law, drool boy, I’m
here on official business and you gotta let me in, minus that ridiculous cover
charge.”
    “They ain’t nothin’ on that badge about waivin’ no cover
charge, bitch girl.”
    I just shrugged and stood my ground, smiling benignly at
him.
    The pretty young lady standing behind me in line frowned and
glared at me before tossing her heavy, brunette hair and turning to the demon
to give him a flirtatious smile. The creature that grinned back at her probably
looked like Prince Charming or his brother Fred Charming to her. Demons never
let humans see their true likeness. If they did they’d never get any of them to
come around, which would be ruinously bad for business.
    I grinned at her and then turned back to the gnarly-faced
badass sitting on the tall stool beside the door. Before we could exchange any
more knife-edged repartee, the buzzer on the wall beside him sounded and he
turned away from me to punch something into the televisual on the wall.
    The unit was screened on three sides and, although I leaned
forward and squinted really hard, I couldn’t see the face on the screen. Whoever
it was, though, drooly boy reluctantly let me pass. Though the look on his face
told me that he’d rather have ripped me into bite sized-pieces and had me with
tartar sauce.
    “You can go in,” he said in his wobbly, razorlike demon
voice, “but you better behave or you’ll be dealin’ with me.”
    I pretended to quiver in my tall, leather boots and turned
away from him. As I opened the door, however, I closed my eyes briefly and said
a silent prayer. It always unnerves me a little to walk into evil’s abode. And,
fiery though I may be, I have a deep dislike of being outnumbered.
    And outnumbered I was. Entering the pitch black of the front
entranceway, I thought immediately of those haunted houses and spook walks I
used to love as a child. The feeling of complete blackness was meant to terrify
and titillate and for me, it definitely did more of the former than it did of
the