Page 18 of Kiss of Wrath

“Well, I was thinking that since we lost one of the command council members last year that . . . well, uh, maybe I could familiarize myself with all the duties of a high haakai by studying under you here at Horror and, uh, eventually be appointed to fill that spot.”

Heinrich wanted to replace Dominique Fontaine? Holy Lucifer! She had been one of his seven high commanders until her permanent annihilation last year by the vangels led by those seven loathsome Sigurdsson brothers who comprised the VIK leadership. She’d operated out of a New Orleans mansion named Anguish that housed a five-star restaurant on the first floor and torture chambers that would impress the Marquis de Sade on the upper floors. Creole by birth, she’d been six feet tall with café-au-lait skin. Gorgeous when in human form. Evil to her rotted bones. Not that evil was a bad thing. Heinrich was evil, too, of course. They all were, but the German couldn’t begin to fill her seat.

“So, you think to nominate yourself for council membership?” Jasper asked.

Heinrich nodded enthusiastically. The dumb asswipe!

Over my dead body! “Heinrich, you’re a mung. Council members are commanders of high haakai standing.”

In the Lucipire society, there were a few Seraphim Lucipires, like Jasper, who had been archangels at one time and expelled from Heaven. Next came the high haakai, haakai, mungs, then the imps and hordlings, which were like foot soldiers to the demon vampires. Mungs were usually of large size, as much as eight feet tall, their scales oozing a poisonous mung, and dragging a tail. Well, all the Lucipires had tails, to Jasper’s discomfort. Try sitting on a toilet, for example.

“Couldn’t I be the first mung to serve on the council? After all, I have the ear of Satan. That should be an asset.”

“Did Satan come up with this idea?”

“No, but he might be convinced to favor my appointment if you back me.”

Was Heinrich delusional? Did he not know how much Jasper despised him? His ambition, his ladder climbing, his ass kissing . . . well, tail kissing. With more patience than the lackwit Lucipire deserved, Jasper said, “This is not a discussion for today. Let us revisit the question sometime in the future.” Like the far, far future. Can anyone say eternity? “The most important thing today is the proposal for our new mission.”

“That is another thing,” Heinrich said.

Jasper rolled his eyes. If Heiney did not soon move from the middle of the doorway, Jasper was going to make him a foot taller by putting him on his favorite rack.

Quickly, Heinrich explained, sensing Jasper’s growing impatience. “I do not think targeting casinos is the best thing to do. Not with all the heightened security related to terrorism.”

Ah, now Jasper understood why Heinrich was really here. The proposal up for discussion at this special meeting of the council had been generated by one of his favorite Lucipires, the Hebrew Zebulan. Since Zeb was a Jew, Heinrich, a Nazi, hated him with a passion. Perhaps that was why Jasper liked Zeb so much. Because Heinrich didn’t. How perverse was that? Or maybe it was just a case of: The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

“Enough! Move aside, Heinrich, and take thyself back to Hell. I have no need of you at the moment. Tell Satan I will report to him directly after this meeting.”

Heinrich was about to protest, but Jasper rose to his full seven-foot-two height, his fangs elongated, and raised a clawed hand. With a mighty swipe, he cast the Nazi aside. Not that he had anything against Nazis, mind. Their particular kind of evil had been like chicken soup to a devilish soul.

Before the idiot could respond, Jasper entered the council room where Beltane was holding his chair out for him. Jasper slammed the door behind him, and locked it with a mind transmittal, which came in handy when dealing with bothersome gnats like Heinrich. Jasper could hear his frustrated scream through the thick wood, and smiled.

“Good day, gentlemen,” he greeted the council members warmly, looking around the U-shaped table at the four high haakais waiting for him. Each, garbed in magnificent capes over their demonoid forms, rose and bowed to him. There was enough slime in this room, oozing from porous scales, to lubricate a locomotive. The smell of sulfur, the bane of Lucipires, was rank in their midst. Jasper had grown accustomed to it. In fact, on certain occasions when he coupled with a female Lucipire, it rather turned him on. “Master,” the council members said as one.

Hector, the former Roman soldier, lived in the hidden catacombs beneath the Vatican; his headquarters were called Terror. The Arab Haroun al Rashid, had been a Silk Road merchant who specialized in slave trading; his luxurious tent city in the desert was called Torment. Yakov the Russian lived in Siberia in a dwelling he called Desolation. And Zebulan the Hebrew, his favorite, dwelled in volcanic ruins in Greece that he deemed Gloom. Jasper’s own palace was alternately referred to as Despair or Horror. Same thing.

“Sit, sit,” he said to his comrades. “We have much to accomplish today. But first, have you all been offered a beverage?”

Nubile naked humans, both male and female, who would eventually become Lucipires, stood ready with trays of pure virgin blood in crystal goblets. His council members declined his offer, pointing to drinks already placed in front of each of them. He waved for a young girl to bring one for him and for Beltane, who sat to his right, but back farther from the table. The girl’s nipples were pierced with rings from which hung small silver beaded weights. Through her waxed genitalia, he could see that her labia had also been pierced, the folds stretched apart with a slim bar, the clitoris prominent and always exposed. He’d personally participated in the torture of this woman and patted her rump appreciatively for the pleasure it had given him. She flinched slightly and he licked his lips with anticipation. He looked forward to her further punishment. Although she’d reached the stage of stasis, she’d not yet accepted her fate. She would. Before nightfall.

The other naked humans had vibrating phalluses protruding from their vaginas and anuses that could be turned on or off by remotes sitting in front of his council members. To entertain council members until his arrival and later, if they were so inclined. By the expression on some of the humans, he could tell they’d been well titillated so far. Some still were.

“Shall we have reports first?” Jasper suggested.

One by one, they told of the “kills” in their areas. “Kills” were not really kills in the usual sense whereby a soul went to Heaven or Hell or Purgatory based on their life deeds. No, this was something entirely different. Long, long ago. Satan had put together bands of demon vampires to harvest human souls before their time, before they had a chance to repent.

Lucipires generally only attacked those who had already committed some grave sin or were contemplating such. Everything from bad to truly evil; the Lucipires weren’t particular. They just helped the victims along the path to Lucipiredom by fanging them with a sin taint. If the humans were already advanced on the road to Hell, that’s all it would take to kill them, making their bodies disappear and be transported to whichever headquarters was to handle the torture and change to Lucipires. Many of these victims were referred to as missing persons in the human society. Few humans accepted their new lives as Lucipires, not right off. They needed convincing.

Haroun reported prosperous harvests in his part of the world. Not surprising with the wars that still raged in the Middle East.

Hector was concentrating on sinners who journeyed to Rome hoping to have all their bad deeds absolved. Not if Hector and his Lucipires could fang them first.

Yakov said his job was somewhat easy because the Russians loved their vodka, and everyone knew that liquor was the gatekeeper to Hell. They should call vodka Satan’s Handmaid.

Zeb stood then, and Jasper preened. He didn’t know why he was so fond of the Jew. It wasn’t as if he had more kills than any of the other haakai. In fact, his present assignment to the Naval Air Base in Coronado, California, had been decidedly unsuccessful.

“Have you managed to turn any of the Navy SEALs yet?”