Her name was Desire, and she had a body that put
God's own truth into that one word. She was singing in one of them demons
infested dives that thrive in these parts -- she had a voice that wound
around a man; made him think of hard sex and the kinds of things best not
looked at in the light of day. She had eyes that pulled a man in, and left
him reeling and looking for a smoke when they let 'im go.
But I wasn't there to take in the sights. Any
other night I would have flapped gums with the skirt, but I was on the
job. A pretty little thing, went by the name of Red, had hired me to find
the lug who ran out on her. Damned it I understand it -- the doll has class.
Desire slinks on over to me, the sway of them
curves drawing the eyes of every hot blooded man in the place -- and a
few cold blooded ones, too. She leans on over, her top framing an area
that seems made to be looked at. Her voice is a husky purr when she talks
around the cigarette hanging from painted red lips. "I hear you're looking
for a Spike," she says, real casual-like.
She's an old flame of mine -- as likely to screw
a guy over as screw 'im. But her info ain't let me down yet. "That's right,
doll," I says. We barter for a bit, her holding her cards close to that
eye catching chest of hers, and me doin' my best to ferret out what she's
holding back. It doesn't take all that long. Like I said, she's an old
flame, and I've got a way with the ladies.
He's in the back, an' I can see he's lousy with
angst even before I pull up across from him. He looks like the kind that
all the skirts love -- easy on the eyes, and a streak of danger that no
sister I've yet to meet would have been able to pass up on trying to fix
on up. He's down in his cups, the fact that his glare is a shade to my
left diminishing the impact to nil.
"You Spike?" I ask.
"Was' it ta you?" he slurs at me. He takes a swig,
tries to anyhow, and glares down at the bottle when nothin' comes on out.
I got a feeling that this guy is going to be a blast to deal with. Red's
a sweet kid, but you gotta wonder at her taste in men.
You've been in this business long enough an' you
learn that there's two ways t' deal with people. There's you're sweet talkin',
and when that don't get results, you can always count on busting a few
heads to get things goin' in yer direction. When yer dealin' with demons,
strike the sweet talk.
So I lean back inta my seat, outta the way of
the drunken lug's fangs -- nasty overbite, none too attractive, and pun
intended, a real pain in the neck. "I'm here on account of a pretty little
thing, goin' by the name of Red."
He's clutchin' at his empty bottle, as if it's
the only thing standin' between him an' oblivion. "Don' know no Red," he
slurs at me.
"Sure. Sure ya don't, buddy," I tell him. He nods.
I'm thinkin' Red's guy hasn't got a full grasp on the idea of sarcasm.
So I says "look here, you look like a straight-dealing kind o' demon. So
what do you say we cut the chatter? Yer comin' with me."
"I'm not goin' anywhere," he growls at me. "I'm
good here, booze and bitches and... booze, yeah. An' you don' got what
it takes to get me t' move, you two bit demon dick."
"Ouch. That hurt." If it wouldn't break the little
lady's heart, I just might have been tempted to leave the guy to his misery.
But Red made it clear enough that I'm her last hope, and I ain't looking
forward to seeing those pretty green eyes fill with despair if she don't
get her man back.
He bats at me when I head around the table to
grab him. He's drunk enough that all that supernatural strength don't mean
squat, seein' as his eyes must be swimmin' so damned bad he can't tell
fer sure where I am. I ain't no slouch when it comes t' drinkin' myself,
but even my eyes water when I prop the lug against me, the scent of cheap
booze is so strong around him.
Desire winks them smokey eyes at me 'fore we leave.
I'm too busy tryin' to hold Spike up to be able to flap gums with the bird.
'Cause wouldn't you know it, the vamp went an' passed out on me.
Rememberin' the look in Red's eyes when she talked
about what gettin' him back, I'm thinkin' that this here demon is in for
quite the experience when he sobers up. And damned if I didn't suddenly
wish I was him.