Sonja Blue - Paint It Black Part 4

I crawl headfirst down the side of the building, moving like a lizard on a garden wall. Once I reach the bottom I routinely pat-check my jacket and pockets to make sure nothing has fallen out during my descent.

There is a sudden hissing sound in my head, as if someone has abruptly pumped up the volume on a radio tuned to a dead channel, and something heavy catches me between the shoulder blades, lifting me off my feet and knocking me into a row of garbage cans. I barely have time to roll out of the way before something big and silvery smashes down where my head was a second before. I cough and black blood flies from my lips; a rib has broken off and pierced my lungs-again.

Kitty stands over me, clutching a three-foot-long silver crucifix like a baseball bat. Although her madness gives her strength, it is obvious the d.a.m.n thing is still heavy. I wonder which church she managed to steal it from.

The dead-channel crackling in my head grows louder. It is the sound of homicidal rage. Shrieking incoherently, Kitty swings at me a third time. While crosses and crucifixes have no effect on me - or on any vampire, for that matter - if Kitty succeeds in landing a lucky blow and snaps my spine or cracks open my skull, I'm dead no matter what.

I roll clear and get to my feet in one swift, fluid motion. Kitty swings at me again, but this time I step inside her reach and grab the crucifix, wresting it from her. The crucifix is at least three inches thick, the cross beams as wide as a man's hand. At its center hangs a miniature Christ fas.h.i.+oned of gold and platinum.

Kitty staggers back, staring in disbelief as I heft the heavy silver cross. She is waiting for my hands to burst into flames.

' What the h.e.l.l did you think you were going to solve, clobbering me with this piece of junk?' I snarl.

Kitty's eyes are huge, the pupils swimming in madness. 'You can't have him! I won't let you take his soul!'

'Who said anything about me stealing--'

'Monster!' Kitty launches herself at me, her fingers clawing at my face. 'Monster!'

I hit her with the crucifix.

Kitty drops to the alley floor, the top of her skull resting on her left shoulder. The only things still holding her head onto her body are the muscles of her neck Way to go, kiddo! You just killed lover boy's bug-s.h.i.+t ex-girlfriend! You're batting a thousand!

'd.a.m.n.'

I toss the crucifix aside and squat next to the body. No need to check for vital signs. The girl is dead.

What to do? I can't just toss the corpse in a dumpster.

Someone is bound to find it, and once the body is identified, New Orleans Homicide will no doubt bring Judd in for questioning.

Which means they'd be looking for me, sooner or later. And I can't have that.

I've got an idea, croons the Other. Just let me handle it Stealing the car is easy. It's a 76 Ford Ltd with a m.u.f.fler held in place with baling wire, and a Duke for Governor sticker on the sagging rear b.u.mper. Just the thing to un.o.btrusively dispose of a murder victim in the swamps surrounding New Orleans during the dead of night.

I take an exit off the Interstate leading out of New Orleans East Originally it was to have connected a cookie-cutter housing development built on the very fringes of the marshlands to the rest of the world. The contractors got as far as pouring the concrete slab foundations before the recession hit. The condos were never built but the access road remains, although there is nothing at its end but an overgrown tangle of briars and vines that has become a breeding ground for snakes and alligators.

I drive without lights. Not that I need them. I can see just fine in the dark. Having reached my destination, I cut the engine and roll to a stop. Except for the croaking of frogs and the grunting of gators, everything is quiet.

I climb out of the car and open the trunk with a length of bent coat hanger. I stand for a second, silently inventorying the collection of plastic trash bags. There are six: one for the head, one for the torso, and one apiece for each limb. I've already burned Kitty's clothing in the warehouse's furnace and disposed of her jewelry and teeth by tossing them into the river.

I gather up the bags and leave the road, heading in the direction of the bayou. I can hear things splas.h.i.+ng in the water, some of them quite large. I pause for a second on the bank of the bayou. Something nearby hisses. I toss the bag containing Kitty's head into the murky water.

'Come and get it!'

The a.s.sembled gators splash and wrestle amongst themselves for the tender morsels like ducks fighting for sc.r.a.ps of stale bread.

I am tired. Very tired. After this is over I still have to drive the car I stole to a suitably disreputable urban area and set it on fire. I look down at my hands. They are streaked with blood. I absently lick them clean.

When I am finished, the Other looks through my eyes and smiles.

The Other isn't tired. Not in the least.

From the diaries ofSonja Blue.

It hadn't been a very good night, as far as Judd was concerned.

He'd been chewed out concerning his att.i.tude at work, Arlo and the others treated him like he had a champions.h.i.+p case of halitosis, and, to cap the evening, Sonja pulled a no-show.

Time to pack it in.

It was four in the morning by the time he got home. He was in such a p.i.s.s-poor mood he didn't even bother to turn on the lights. His answering machine, for once, didn't have one of Kitty's bizarre messages on it. Nothing from Sonja, either.

He grunted as he removed his s.h.i.+rt. Was she mad at him? Did he say or do something the last time they were together that ticked her off? It was hard to figure out her moods, since she refused to take off those d.a.m.n mirrored sungla.s.ses.

Judd wondered, not for the first time, how she could navigate in the dark so well while wearing those f.u.c.kers.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw something move. It was the curtain covering the window that faced the alley.

Judd frowned as he went to close the window. Funny, he didn't remember leaving the window open ...

She stepped out of the shadows, greeting him with a smile that displayed teeth that were too sharp. She could smell the adrenaline coursing through him as his system jerked itself into overdrive. He was about to yell for help, then he recognized her. Or thought he did.

'SSonja?'

'Did I scare you?" She sounded like pain given voice. She sniffed the air and her smile grew even sharper. 'Yes. Yes, I did scare you, didn't I?' She moved toward him, her hands making slow, hypnotic pa.s.ses as she spoke. 'I love the smell of fear in the morning.'

'Sonja, what's wrong with your voice?'

'Wrong?' She chuckled as she unzipped her leather jacket.

'I always sound like this!'

She was on him so fast he didn't even see her move, lifting him by his belt buckle and flinging him onto the bed so hard he bounced. She grabbed his jaw in one hand, angling it back so the jugular was exposed. Judd heard the snikt! of a switchblade and felt a cold, sharp pressure against his throat.

'Sonja?'

'Do not struggle. Do not cry out Do as I command, and maybe I'll let you live. Maybe.'

'What do you want?"

'Why, my dear, I just want to get to know you better.' She removed the sungla.s.ses protecting her eyes, 'And vice versa.'

Judd had often begged Sonja to let him look at her eyes.

Were they almond-shaped or round? Blue or brown or green? No doubt he'd always imagined them as looking human, though. Certainly he hadn't pictured them as blood-red with pupils so hugely dilated they resembled shoe b.u.t.tons.

She smirked, savoring the look of disgust on Judd's face. She pressed her lips against his, thrusting his teeth apart with her tongue, and penetrated his will with one quick shove of her mind.

Judd's limbs twitched convulsively as she took control of his nervous system, then went still. She disengaged, physically, and stared down at him. He did not move. She had made sure of that. His body was locked into partial paralysis. Satisfied her control was secure, she moved the switchblade away from Judd's throat.

'I can see why she finds you attractive. You're a pretty thing . . . very pretty.' She reached out and pinched one of his nipples. Judd didn't flinch. Of course not. She did not give him permission to.

'But she's much too old-fas.h.i.+oned when it comes to s.e.x, don't you agree? She's afraid to let herself go and walk on the wild side. She's so repressed.' She shrugged out of her leather jacket, allowing it to fall to the floor.

'I will explain this to you once, and once only. I own you.

If you do as I tell you, and you please me, then you shall be rewarded. Like this.'

She reached into his cortex and tweaked its pleasure center.

Judd shuddered as the wave of ecstasy swept over him, his hips involuntarily humping empty air.

'But if you fight me, or displease me in any way, then I will punish you. Like so.'

Judd emitted a strangled cry of pain as he was speared through the pain receptor in his head. It was as if the top of his skull had been removed and someone had dumped the contents of an ant farm on his exposed brain. His back arched until the muscles creaked. Then the pain stopped as if it had never been there at all.

'Hold me.'

Judd did as he was told, dragging himself upright and wrapping his arms around her waist. She knotted her fingers in his hair, pulling his head back so she could look into his eyes. There was fear there. Fear - and something more. She liked that.

'Am I hurting you? Say yes.'

'Yes.'

She smiled, exposing her fangs, and he realized then that it was just beginning. The fear in Judd's eyes gave way to terror. And she liked that even more.

They f.u.c.ked for three solid hours. She skillfully manipulated Judd's pleasure centers so he remained perpetually erect, despite exhaustion. She randomly induced o.r.g.a.s.ms, often one right after another, until they numbered in the dozens.

After the seventh or eighth o.r.g.a.s.m, Judd was shooting air.

She enjoyed how he wailed in pain each time he spasmed.

As dawn began to make its way into the room, she severed her control of Judd's body. He fell away from her in mid-thrust, his eyes rolled back behind flickering lids. She dressed quickly, her attention fixed on the rising sun. Judd lay curled in a fetal position on the soiled and tangled bedclothes, his naked body shuddering and jerking as his nervous system rea.s.serted its control.

'Parting is such sweet sorrow,' she purred, caressing his s.h.i.+vering flank. Judd gasped at her touch but did not pull away.

'You pleased me This time So I will let you live This time.'

She lowered her head, brus.h.i.+ng his jugular lightly with her lips. Judd squeezed his eyes shut in antic.i.p.ation of the bite But all she did was whisper: 'Get used to it, lover boy.'

When he opened his eyes again, she was gone For the time being.

The Other takes a great deal of pleasure in telling me what itdid to Judd, making sure not to leave out a single, nasty detail as it reruns the morning's exploits inside my skull.

My response to the news is to scream and run headfirst into the nearest wall. Then to continue pounding my skull against the floorboards until my gla.s.ses shatter and blood streams down my face and mats my hair. I succeed in breaking my nose and shattering both cheekbones before collapsing.

It's not enough.

'Girly-girl! Long time no see! What brings you into my little den of iniquity this time?'

The demon Malfeis sports the exterior of a flabby white male in late middle age, dressed in a loud plaid polyester leisure suit with white buck loafers. A collection of gold medallions dangle under his chins, and he holds a racing form in one hand.

I slide into the booth opposite the demon. 'I need magic Mal.'

'Don't we all? Say, what's with the face? You can reconstruct better than that!'

I shrug, one hand straying to my swollen left cheek. The bone squelches under my fingertips and slides slightly askew.

Heavy-duty facial reconstruction requires feeding for it to be done right, and I deliberately skipped my waking meal.

'You tangle with an ogre? One of those vorgr punks?'

'Leave it be, Mal.'

Malfeis shrugs. 'Just trying to be friendly, that's all. Now, what kind of magic are you in the market for?'

'Binding and containment'

The demon grunts and fishes out a pocket calculator. 'What are you looking to bind? Ghost? Elemental? Demon? Muse? There's a difference in the prices, you know.'

'Myself.'

'Huh?' Mal halts in mid-computation, his exterior flickering for a moment to reveal a hulking creature that resembles an orangutan with a boar's snout 'You heard me. I wish to have myself bound and contained.'

'Sonja--'

'Name your price, d.a.m.n you.'

'Don't be redundant, girlchick.'

I sigh and heft a knapsack onto the tabletop. 'I brought some of my finest acquisitions. I've got hair shaved from Ted Bundy's head just before he went to the chair, dried blood sc.r.a.ped from the walls of the l.a.b.i.anco home, a spent rifle casing from the gra.s.sy knoll, and a cedar cigar box with what's left of Rasputin's p.e.n.i.s in it. Quality s.h.i.+t I swear by its authenticity.

And it's all yours, if you do this for me.'

Malfeis fidgets, drumming his talons against the table. Such close proximity to so much human suffering and evil is bringing on a Jones. 'Okay. I'll do it. But I'm not going to take responsibility for anything that happens to you.'

'Did I ask you to?'

'Are you sure you want to go through with this, Sonja?'

'Your concern touches me, Mal. It really does.'

The demon shakes his head in disbelief. 'You really mean to go through with this, don't you?'

'I've already said so, haven't I?'

'Sonja, you realize once you're in there, there's no way you'll be able to get out, unless someone breaks the seal.'