Shadowglass

Oh, but she’s an unexpected delight. Her fruity scent still burns his sinuses. The glorious salty taste of her orgasm still sparkles in his mouth. He can still feel her under him, her skin fresh under his tongue, her body pressing into his, seeking him out, finding his pleasure, teasing it out until he didn’t know where to begin with her.

She’s thrashing around in there, thumping at the walls, and his needy flesh screams at him to go back inside, crush her naked body under his, push his cock inside her and finish what he started. First he’d wanted her blood, her bright life flowing over his hands. But that fleeting connection wasn’t enough. His eyes wouldn’t leave her body alone, his lips itched to drape themselves on her skin and pleasure her, his hungry tongue kept sweeping the soaked air for her scent.

He can still smell her delicious woman-smell, strawberries and ash, and as he forces himself to walk stiffly away, a nasty metal ache brewing in his balls, he wonders if that scent will ever go away.

He wonders if he wants it to. The delight of her chaos floods his blood with desperate calm he’s not felt since . . . well, since Andy dropped his beautiful, treacherous lover in a spiky pit and blacked out for the first time. Accident or not, Dennis was born that day, and Andy’s never been the same, so closed off and cold, he can’t connect with anyone, let alone fall in love. Since then, Dennis' wandered the earth, searching, yearning for something he can’t find. Maybe now, he’s found it. Empathy. Acceptance. A twin spirit, reveling in her own madness.

Andy never accepted him, never understood. But she’s got her own itches, this fruity liquor girl. She’ll understand blood’s rich lure, the anticipation, but also the disappointment, the delight that lasts only for a second or two before it’s false. She’ll know why he does what he does, over and over again.

Affection, yes. Love, yes. She’ll surrender to him. Only a matter of time.

Crazy, wonderful, precious girl. Andy mustn’t have her, mustn’t prune her spirit off like a weed.

She thinks she wants that. She thinks she wants him. She doesn’t understand.

If Dennis must, he’ll save her from herself.

Shunning the elevator, he pushes the weighted fire door open and skips down the concrete stairs, his body still a rampant jungle of lust and yearning blood. The rough galvanized railing glows, the salty zinc spoiling his Ice-drenched palate.

He needs that mirror, before Andy comes back and ruins everything. Already the whispers scratch in his head, the hammering, the horrid sense of his wits leaching away. He grits his teeth, savoring her taste on his tongue, using it to bolster his strength. This is for her. But he’ll need help.

The iron skull necklace is one thing. Finding its previous owner is another, and he doesn’t have time for his usual thief tricks, the questions, the bribes, the kisses and sweet promises.

He’s leading Andy straight to the prize, of course.

Can’t be helped. Just keep the prick at bay for a little longer.

He leans hard on the door at the bottom, the steel handle sparking under impatient palms. The door scrapes open, and he ducks between underground car park traffic into the street, his glamour zapping fresh and deceptive in ozone-laden air. The sky burns orange, gathering clouds reflecting the sparkling rainbow lights of the city. It’s still raining, the warm drops splatting on his wings, and in the distance, lightning flashes, ever closer. Trees rustle in wire cages on the black-tarred verge between glassy towers that clutch toward heaven, and summer-dead leaves dance at his feet in the warm night breeze.

The city in the summer rain. There’s no sweeter place, no place tasting more like his heart. If Andy wants to go to Colombo, he can go alone.

In an inspired flash, Dennis wonders if the mirror can sunder what it splits, and the crafty seed of a plan worms to life in his rust-black heart.

Skipping toward the city, he slips out his little silver phone and dials.

Three rings, and Jinxx picks up. Dennis swallows, straining not to spit out the foulness sliming his gums. Jinxx made love to Appolonnia. Dennis and Jinxx have an unpleasant connection. It doesn’t taste nice, that jealousy.

As always, the demon’s voice is pleasant, calm. "Dennis. I wondered when you’d call.”

Somehow, Jinxx always knows whether it’s Andy or Dennis. Some hellmagic trick? Or recognizing his own?

No matter. Hell can’t be worse than this. Your mind eaten from within. Your happy heart crushed by your own weakness. The girl you love diluted, washed away like a watercolor in the rain.

Dennis licks eager metal teeth, anticipation working a sensual shiver up his spine. “About your little shiny. I think I know where it is. But now I need to find someone.”

In a grimy backstreet, Jinxx listens, and his claws crunch splinters into the handset. “I know this filthy thing. Jake. I sent it away.”


***

Beside him, Simon motions for silence and bends to scent around the corner, nose twitching. Angry sparks rainbow from Jinxx’s hair onto spray-painted brick. He doesn’t have time to deal with Jake now. Simon’s about to pull off a juicy triple hit on some Parente maggots. Their boss is dead. Crunch their bones to juice while they’re down. Fun.

Dennis giggles, fairy-light. “Whatever you say. But he’s still here, and he’s got your shiny. Any clues?”

Wrath springs Jinxx’s teeth an inch longer, and with a vicious blink he spears his winged shade skyward like a bat. Swoop on warm upcurrents over jeweled city lights, rain and dust and thunder, and under it all the spreading wet stink of flowers. Zoom closer, homing on the stench, a warehouse in Carlton with a rusted iron rooftop and jagged windows.

His shade hovers, quivering. Jake. Still there. It disobeyed. Nasty, horrid thing, spreading petty dissent through his city like a cancer. It won’t do. This city belongs to Jinxx. If the liars upstairs wanted it, they shouldn’t have let it fester alone in the dark for a century and a half. Fucking hypocrites.

Jinxx sucks his shade back in with a nasty crunch of leathery wings and jerks away from the wall to pace. Frost crackles the concrete under his feet. He gave the foolish thing its chance. Once Simon’s done, he’ll cut out this festering wound and munch on the stinking flesh.

But for the moment, he has Dennis.

Steamy flames hiss from his needle grin. “Oh, yes. I’ll tell you exactly where it is. And you’ll find out what the worm is up to. Bring my mirror back to me, Dennis. Now.”

Notes

Hey my Beautiful Bats, hope you enjoy this one, sorry i didn't update yesterday but I've been trynna deal with a really bad migraine....(these ones normally last around 2 days to a week or two :( And i felt bad so I've gotten up and i got this one written out for you guys.

Stay Weird
- Grimm