9
SATAN
“How in theHell do you women walk in heels?” I hissed after the third mile of tracking Cred.
Even though Astrid had been gracious enough to give me low heeled sandals with my Prada frock, my fucking feet were killing me.
“Fashion is pain, dude,” she replied in a clipped tone, walking a good two feet in front of me.
My niece was ignoring me for the most part. I didn’t like that. I was fabulous company. She was definitely missing out.
“You gotta suffer for your fuckin’ fashion, Hottie McSnackBuns,” Martha informed me.
“True that,” Jane said, checking her watch. “Speakin’ of being miserable for your dang style, I’m gettin’ me some impressive steps in today, but my hooters are kinda weighin’ me down.”
“Like I said, heifer,” Martha told her, adjusting her own unsightly boulders. “Suffer for your fashion. Ginormo boobies are all the rage!”
“While that is absolutelynotthe case,” I snapped, “at least your mammoth melons aren’t slicing your heel tendons.”
“Oh my God,” Astrid grumbled, coming to an abrupt stop.
She didn’t say a word as she wiggled her fingers and replaced the stunning sandals with sleek black mesh Prada sneakers. My look was now classy yet hip, and a lot less painful. I was tempted to thank her, but she walked away quickly. Whatever. Gratitude was for pussies like her. I was Satan. And just to be clear, I was no longer fucking Satan. I was just Satan.
We walked a good ten miles in uneasy silence before we found the correct location. I was honestly surprised that Cred could walk so far. From the transmitter I’d conjured up, it was clear the woman had travelled fast. How odd. Maybe she rode the fucking goat. That had to be it. There was no way the waddling old nut could sprint so quickly.
“Is this the place?” Lizard asked, glancing around.
“Yes,” I replied. “This is the place.”
The snooker parlor was in a sketchy area. The asphalt parking lot was pitted and uneven. A few gutted cars missing tires had been abandoned along the road. The street lights flickered and several appeared to be riddled with bullet holes. The parlor was sandwiched between deserted warehouses. I wasn’t worried for our safety. We were seriously difficult to kill. However, I found it peculiar that Cred would choose such a shady place to play snooker.
Normally, I enjoyed the dirty underbellies of cities, but I wasn’t working with my own fucking body at the moment. If Critter Steve and Trapper Rick were indeed in the establishment, a punishment coming from Astrid’s body would not hold the same weight as an electrocution coming from my body. Fuck.
Astrid was being a colossal jackass. She had barely acknowledged my presence. I did not enjoy being ignored. Whatever. She’d speak if I spoke to her.
“I’d suggest a game plan,” I said as we stood about a hundred feet from the rusty door to enter the place.
“Such as?” she asked.
I paced the uneven pavement and tried to figure out how I could make her say what I wanted her to say. The fact that I had no idea what I was going to say didn’t help. I enjoyed winging it under normal circumstances. The circumstances were anything but normal. A solution escaped me. It was rare for me to be at a loss. However, it was even rarer for me to have lady bits.
“I do not believe you will handle the situation as well as I would,” I said flatly. “Since you’re me and I’m you, this is a problem.
She rolled her eyes. “Ya think?”
She wasn’t helping. She was being a dick. If the situation wasn’t so dire, I’d be impressed with her shitty attitude. But the integrity of my cock was on the line. Dire was an understatement.
Lizard decided to add his two cents. If I had any breath to hold, I would have.
“How about you call Astrid’s cell phone?” he said, taking a bow.
“That’s it?” I asked. Surely not. Lizard was bizarre but not stupid.
“Oh right!” he said with a laugh as he chomped on his gum. “Astrid can pretend that she lost her voice and has to use the cell phone to communicate,” he explained. “She can put you on speaker phone.”
“Go on,” I said, intrigued. It was strange, but Lizard was a baffling man.
“You won’t have to worry about Astrid talking for you since you’ll be talking for yourself. You can handle it exactly the way you would handle it if you had your own wanker in your pants.”
