Read Holy Socks And Dirtier Demons for Free Online Page B

universe. Yeah,
    I’ve heard it before.”
    “This isn’t a joke.”
    “I never said it was.” I straightened, sucking in a polluted breath of
    city air. “While I appreciate your concern, I don’t need it. What I do need is
    to find the kid, and find him fast. So you either help me with that, or leave
    me the fuck alone.”
    “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
    I smiled. A warning I could live with. Another fist into the gut, and
    she and I would have problems.
    32

    Nine

    Thirty minutes later, the Gremlin pulled to the curb of the Ministry of
    the 2nd Coming Church of Latter Day Southern Baptists, or MCCLDSB for
    short, even though the acronym wasn’t all that short.
    The building looked like any other on the Upper East Side; Madison
    Avenue wealth mixed with 5th Avenue pretension. Decorated in floor to
    ceiling stained-glass, the church resembled a whorehouse, but without the
    fun.
    “Your ex works here?” I shielded my eyes from the intense glare
    reflecting off the brightly colored building. Lilith didn’t strike me as a church
    going gal, and she seemed too young to have been married and divorced. But
    then again, I’d been married three times in my thirty-three years on Earth. So
    what did I know?
    “Yeah. He wasn’t always a saint.” She winked once, and climbed the
    stairs to the double brass church doors.
    I followed behind, watching the hustle and flow of the congregation.
    People smiled serenely at Lilith but didn’t approach, almost as if we had a
    protective bubble of jaded religiosity.
    “Where is he?” She motioned to a smiling poster of a cap-toothed
    minister with bleached blond hair and a plastic grin.
    A woman with the same affected smile answered, “He’s preparing
    for tonight’s sermon on the sins of the flesh. Sex outside the marriage bed is
    a sure path to damnation.”
    I hoped so. What fun would it be otherwise? I tried to get Lilith’s
    attention, but she barreled through the flock. She was a woman on a mission.
    I caught up to her a few seconds later as she opened a heavy wooden
    door and slipped inside. A shout of surprise sounded, followed by a squeak
    of pain.
    Fearing for her safety, I rushed in, only to find the blond minister
    holding his bloody nose, and a girl probably no older than sixteen on her
    knees in front of him.
    Lilith helped the girl to her feet, said something in a sharp voice, and
    punched the reverend again, this time in the nuts. He dropped like a brick,
    33

    eyes rolling back into his head.
    “Jace. Meet the esteemed minister, Adam Just, my sleazy ex-husband
    and all around rat bastard.” She punctuated the statement with a kick to his
    ribs.
    “It’s a pleasure.” I took two steps into the richly decorated room,
    gently closing the door behind the parting teenager. I guess God paid well.
    “So should we ask for his help now or wait until his testes crawl back down
    from his throat?”
    She laughed. “Oh, he’ll help us. Don’t worry about it.” Walking
    around the reverend’s desk, she plopped into his chair and tapped a few keys
    on his computer keyboard.
    I took the time to study Adam. He wasn’t what I had expected. The
    bad-boy, Samuel, from last night’s beat-down seemed much more Lilith’s
    style. This guy looked like every mother’s wet dream, an MBA with good
    genes and a healthy disposable income. He was older than Lilith too, much
    older, maybe mid-forties.
    “How long were you married?” I bent down, and lifted Adam’s
    eyelid. Whiteness stared back.
    “Less than two months,” she responded. “I came home and found
    him fucking a girl five years younger than me, and worse, she was enjoying
    his fumbling a hell of a lot more than I ever did.”
    “Ouch.”
    She shook her head. “You know what I got in the divorce settlement?
    A burial plot in Hebron. That’s it. I get to spend all eternity planted next to
    this asshole.” Her fingers waved to the floor and the man groaning on it.
    “And his trophy