Chapter Twenty-three
Nerves stretched taut and his kitty snapping and snarling in his head, Felipe paced the ancient stone dock jutting from the first circle into the Styx.
Not so long ago, he’d stood in this very same spot, a feline getting its paw slapped by his boss. He’d returned a different man. Now, instead of looking for an excuse to flee Lucifer’s machinations, he wanted to be a part of them. He needed his Lord’s help in going to the rescue of the one person who’d come to mean more to him than even his own lives; someone he loved. Ack. Damned hairballs.
Choking on the admission or not, it was time for him to embrace the truth. He loved Jenny, and if it meant readjusting some of his views and practicing monogamy and coming home to the same place and woman every night, he would because he’d found something worth the collar and leash. A woman who engaged him on all levels—and made him fucking purr.
Despite tardiness being a sin, Felipe didn’t have to wait for long. His Lord stepped from a temporary portal onto the dock, dressed in black combat gear from head to toe, which would have proven much more impressive if not for the yellow rain slicker he wore overtop.
At Felipe’s arched brow, Lucifer said, “It takes a confident demon to pull this off. I thought the rubber duckies added a playful touch.”
Playful or insane? Not a debate he’d verbalize given Felipe preferred to keep his head.
“So how are we getting to Jenny, boss? Military sub? Special forces scuba team? Going to part the waters and choke the bitches? Take a direct portal to their hideout and wipe them out with your army?”
“We are going by boat, of course. Damned portals won’t work over water.”
“Boat?” Felipe was about to ask what boat since there was nothing anchored when, from the mists of the Styx, appeared a familiar shape. A robed Charon poled his flatbed vessel to the dock.
A smart kitty would have held his tongue. Apparently, he’d lost some of his intelligence with his last life. “You aren’t fucking serious, are you? We’ll never catch them in that rickety old thing.”
“Rickety?” Charon drew himself to his full height, which was remarkably impressive. “I’ll have you know this vessel is extremely reliable. I’ve ferried millions of souls with it. Fought off beasts. Engaged in battles.”
“Took the animals two by two,” Felipe added sarcastically. “We get it. The thing’s a relic.”
“Shut it,” Lucifer commanded, stepping onto the deck. “If you want to save your lady and your skin, I suggest you get your furry ass on board.” Lucifer took a place in the prow and tucked his hands behind his back.
Trusting his boss had a plan, Felipe followed, resisting an urge to body check Charon, who oozed smugness and amusement.
Using his long pole for propulsion, Charon pushed off, the only sound the slapping of the water against the dock. No fanfare. No announcement. No media. How strange. Lucifer was usually more of the grandstanding type.
Gray mist encircled them almost immediately, a pea soup that didn’t allow for any visibility. Felipe didn’t like it at all, the moisture clinging to his skin especially irritating his inner feline, which couldn’t help but remind him that the last time they’d trusted a vessel to take them on water they’d ended up in the drink.
He didn’t let his fear send him swimming back to shore. Jenny needed him. Thankfully, they didn’t have to go too far.
Charon muttered, “We’re here,” and rapped his pole against the side of a large shape which suddenly appeared on their starboard side. A reply came from the fog, the low trumpeting of a horn. As if a signal, the heavy mist parted, and Felipe stared up, then up some more at the gigantic metal monster floating on the Styx.
This is more like it!
The massive military ship, outfitted with a machine gun turret, old style cannons, several harpoons and more, was painted a flat black, except for the prow where red flames zigzagged from bloodshot eyeballs. Its name? The S.S. SushiMaker.
“Big enough for you, cat?” Lucifer asked, flinging his yellow slicker over one shoulder as they came alongside.
“It’ll do,” was his nonchalant reply. He scrambled up the ladder after his boss, who, despite his age, proved more agile than expected.
Swinging himself onto the deck, Felipe did a double take at the robed figure already waiting there. “How did—” Felipe halted himself as he stared down at the empty waves slapping against the ship. Welcome to Hell, where strange shit happened.
And fashion sense was skewed. In the seconds it took Felipe to realize Charon was indeed on deck before him, he’d acquired an admiral’s cap, black of course, with gold braid across it. It should have looked odd sitting on Charon’s head given he still wore his hooded robe—which now bore admiral’s stripes on the sleeves—and yet, it didn’t.
With a floating gait—did the guy not have feet?—Charon led Felipe and their boss to the upper deck into the command center. Demons manned the controls, a distant thump and hum making the whole vessel rumble. Hell’s navy about to go kick some mermaid ass.
“Hold on tight, kitty,” Lucifer advised, “because this suped-up warship is about to go seriously nautical.”
Felipe would have laughed, except the ship lurched, threw him off balance, and then he was scrambling to find something to hold on to as the S.S. SushiMaker didn’t just ride the waves, it sliced them, diced them, and moved at a ridiculous speed.
When he did finally gather a breath, he shouted, “What kind of engine does this thing have?”
“Engine? You know that shit can’t be relied on in Hell. This sucker is powered old school, with oars,” Lucifer boasted. He tapped at a button, and the sonar screen flashed to a scene below deck.
Gaping, Felipe stared at the hundreds of rowers, a good number of them Vikings. And happy as shit. The sound he’d taken for an engine hum? The rowers chanting while a drummer kept the beat.
“Row, row, row the boat, toward the Darkling Sea.
And there we’ll find some fucking fish, and have a killing spree.”
Each time they sang a verse, they cheered. A berserker army on its way to glory.
Felipe began to feel a little more optimistic, especially since he doubted the mermaids had access to such speed. Perhaps there was hope they’d catch them in time. In time for what though, no one seemed to know.