A Blast from the Past

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A Blast from the Past by JL Merrow

With thanks to Luisa Prieto, for her help and for kindly allowing me to borrow characters from Cooking With Ergot for a brief cameo appearance.

Detective Lars Thornsson of the Paranormal Enforcement Agency shut the file with a snap and leaned back in his chair with a sigh of relief. "I'm all done, C, how about you?" His partner, Chelle Rochelle, looked up and scowled. "I'm nearly through. Jeez, Thornsson, a whole frickin' morning on paperwork! Those demons are out there pissing themselves laughing at us. You know what we should do next time we catch one? Make it fill out the damn reports. The asshole'd be begging us to banish him back to Hell before he was through." Lars gave her a wry smile. "I think that counts as cruel and unusual punishment, C." "Kiss my ass, Thornsson. The Constitution was set up to safeguard human rights. Operative word, human. And I don't give a damn what you were telling yourself while you were banging Hellslut, demons are not human."

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Lars counted to ten very slowly in Norwegian, like his dad had taught him. Rochelle was just blowing off steam. Paperwork made everyone cranky. Not that you could really tell the difference with Rochelle. He looked up again at the sound of Rochelle cracking her knuckles. "Done and dusted," she announced with a satisfied air. "Hey, are you going to old Makler's sendoff tonight?" "Wouldn't miss it, C. Him and me have worked together near on forty years now." "You do know that age thing of yours really creeps me out, Thornsson, don't you?" "Can I help it if my mom's an immortal?" Lars grinned the smug grin of the fifty-seven-year old who looked twentythree. "No, but you could work on getting a few more wrinkles to make the rest of us feel better. Take up smoking, become an alcoholic, hell, whatever works for you. Don't just sit there looking like a poster boy for Oil of fucking Olay." "I'll bear that in mind," Lars assured her, although if he were going to go all-out to get a more lived-in look, he figured he'd rather stay up all night with a hot little sex demon he knew. Lars felt a warmth spread right on through him at the thought of Rael waiting at home. A Blast from the Past - 3

"Hey, Earth to Thornsson. Somebody eat your brain? I said it's lunch time. You coming to get a burger?" Lars felt himself flush slightly. "Uh, thanks, C, but I'm brown-bagging it today." Rochelle snorted. "You? When did you get all Martha Stewart? What you got?" Telling himself firmly that there was absolutely no reason to be embarrassed, Lars brought out the Tupperware container Rael had handed him with a kiss this morning and opened it up. Inside was an artistic arrangement of meat, salad, and rice Lars vaguely recollected having heard described as a bento. The little mound of rice had a smiley face on it and -- Lars winced -- two little horns made out of red pepper. Looked kinda tasty, though. Rochelle looked at the lunch as if she wanted to see it on Death Row -- hell, like she'd cheerfully wave it off on its way to the chair and then start working on the jig she was planning to dance on its grave. "You're still banging him, aren't you, Thornsson?" she said flatly. *** Rael hummed a happy little tune to himself as he sashayed into the kitchen in nothing but a pair of Lars' boxers and switched on the TV with a flick of his tail. Time for the rerun of Midnight Gourmet and a slice of good, old-fashioned A Blast from the Past - 4

kitchen witchery with the hottest male witch this side of Salem. Man, that boy was smokin'. He had a real cute face, hair the color of dark chocolate, and tight little buns Rael would just love to see sprinkled with sesame seeds. Right now he was slicing beef with the wickedest looking knife Rael had ever seen and putting it into a bowl of spicy marinade as careful as if he were laying a baby into a bassinet. "Honey, if I wasn't already spoken for, I'd marinate your meat any time," Rael purred at the TV. This being a re-run, it had to be a trick of the light, but Rael would have sworn the witch's familiar gave him a knowing look. And man, that stuffed tiger was the cutest familiar ever. Kind of made Rael wish he had a familiar of his own. Rael felt a pout coming on and resisted the urge to check it out in the mirror. Oh, he loved living with Lars, and he got a real kick out of cooking for his man -- seemed only fair, feeding his lover when he fed off of him nightly -- but it did get kinda lonesome when his darlin' detective was out at work. Rael couldn't get too mad about Lars' job, seeing as that was how they'd met, after all, but damn, did he miss his man when Lars was gone. And Lars was fixing to be late back tonight -- some department thing or other. Rael sighed. He hated eating late. A Blast from the Past - 5

After all, him being a succubus, it wasn't like he could start without his lover. *** "Thornsson, Rochelle, get your asses in here!" Captain O'Reilly barked at them just as Lars was finishing up his bento, digging into the corners of the box to coax out the last delicious morsel. O'Reilly stomped off into his office, leaving them to follow like a couple of ducklings behind mama duck. He had the waddle down pretty good, too, Lars noted with a grin he kept to himself. Rochelle's eyes lit up like a casino on payday. "What's up, boss? We got a new case?" "Uh-huh. Firestarter. Been targeting a whole bunch of businesses downtown, no damn logic to it I can see." O'Reilly ran a hand over his mostly bald head, smoothing down the comb-over no one had the guts to tell him to get rid of. With the possible exception of Rochelle, who Lars figured probably just didn't give a damn. "How do they know it's one of ours?" Lars asked. O'Reilly barked a laugh. "Figure it's just some kid who never learned not to play with matches? Not a chance, Thornsson. Fires all started in the same way, inside an enclosed space of some kind, no sign of any explosives or A Blast from the Past - 6

flammable liquids being used -- and temperatures that'd make a thermonuclear reactor look like a shady spot on a winter's day. It's gotta be a demon. Either of you two hear anything lately about any illegal immigrants from the demon dimensions?" "Uh, no, boss," Lars said, guiltily aware that there was one hanging around looking decorative in his apartment right now. He kept his fingers crossed Rochelle wasn't about to spill. "I got nothin'," she said shortly. Lars breathed again, feeling suddenly much more inclined to forgive her earlier digs about Rael. "You know, Captain, it'd be kind of helpful if we knew what kind of demon we were dealing with," he said, trying to change the subject. "After all, it could be a fire sprite, a dragon..." "So get on it, then!" O'Reilly snarled, rolling his eyes. "Damn it, Thornsson, you want spoon-feeding?" "Uh, no, sir. We're on it." The captain nodded curtly, then jerked his head toward the door. Lars and Rochelle took the hint. "You owe me, Thornsson," Rochelle muttered under her breath as they left O'Reilly's office. "Thanks, C. I won't forget it." A Blast from the Past - 7

"You're damn right you won't. Now, gimme those files. We got to get an angle on this damn pyro. Hell, screw that, I'm gonna need a coffee before I deal with this shit. You want I should grab you a cup of that fairies' piss you drink?" Lars nodded his thanks and sat back down at his desk. He was still on the first report when Rochelle got back with the coffee. He sipped at his skinny mochaccino gratefully. "You see this?" he commented. "The first attack was a florist's shop on Twenty-Seventh Street. Who the hell would want to burn down a florist?" Rochelle threw back half of her espresso doppio, glared at it briefly, then shrugged. "Hell, what do I know? Someone with a real bad case of hay fever?" She grabbed the next file down. "Now, a furniture shop, that I can understand. The guy probably got screwed into spending three grand on a sofa that wouldn't fit through the fucking door. Fucking asshole salesmen." Lars grinned. "I told you, you should always take a tape measure when you go furniture shopping, C." "Screw you. It was an impulse buy, okay?" After a frustrating half hour spent reading and re-reading the reports, Rochelle threw the last file down in disgust. "Jeez, what the hell's going on with this creep? He hits a florist, a furniture store, a bakery... what the hell kind of a game plan is that?" A Blast from the Past - 8

"Maybe he doesn't have a game plan," Lars replied, thoughtfully. "After all, it could be one of the lower creatures, or maybe some kind of fire sprite -- do they even care what they burn? At any rate, I figure we should start with the bakery." "Why? That fancy demon food not doing it for you?" "Funny. Lunch was delicious, actually. No, I just thought we should start at the place where there was a witness." "Jeez, some kid in diapers sees an imaginary frickin' cat and you figure that's a reliable witness?" Lars shrugged. "Hell, C, you got any other leads?" "Well," Rochelle drawled, lip curling, "we could ask your boyfriend what all his friends have been up to lately, but I guess he's too busy screwing around on you to get to the phone right now..." Lars went cold. "Rochelle, that was uncalled for!" And definitely not true, he told himself firmly. She slammed her hands down on the desk so hard the files jumped. "Damn it, when are you gonna wake up and buy a clue? It's in his nature! He's a frickin' succubus! He blows guys like you eat hot dogs!"

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"How's that?" Lars asked, holding onto his temper with both hands. "With onions and ketchup?" Rochelle snorted. "Thornsson, I do not want to hear what you guys get up to in the bedroom. Or the kitchen, whatever." "What is with you, C? Hell, I know this job doesn't exactly show you demons at their best, but you're acting like this is fucking personal!" Rochelle's jaw set so firmly that Lars figured the apocalypse wouldn't shift it. "You want to go to the bakery? Fine. We'll go to the bakery." She stormed out, leaving Lars no choice but to follow. *** The bakery itself being nothing but a burned-out shell, where they actually went was the baker's apartment three blocks away. Seemed the baker had taken to heart the old adage about never trusting a skinny cook. Lars figured he was probably about as wide around as Lars was tall. The guy was bucking the jolly-fat-man trend at the moment by looking distinctly gloomy, however. Well, Lars could understand that in the circumstances. He introduced himself and Rochelle, and tried to ignore it as the baker gave them a glare that said plainly, "I have lost my livelihood and now I have to deal with this?" A Blast from the Past - 10

"Listen," the baker reeled off in a tired voice, "I already told my story a hundred times. I wasn't there, the bakery was closed, it wasn't an insurance scam, and we don't know how it started, okay?" "Sir, I've read all the reports from the initial investigations, and that's why we're here," Lars told him in a placatory tone. "I understand your daughter was at the bakery when you were closing up on the day of the fire, and saw some sort of cat?" The baker rolled his eyes. "My baby's only two. She calls everything with a tail 'kitty.' " Lars couldn't help wondering what she'd make of Rael. "Can we speak to her, sir? It's important." The guy didn't look happy, but he turned and yelled, "Ruby, honey? The nice detectives want to talk to you!" The child who scuttled in shyly had to be the smallest little girl Lars had ever seen. He hadn't even realized they made them that small. If she stood next to her father's feet, Lars figured he wouldn't be able to see her past his gut. She looked up at Lars with big, wide eyes like he was Godzilla or something. Lars tried to look less threatening but figured he was fighting a losing battle, what with the size differential and all. "Uh, Rochelle..?" he began.

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Rochelle curled her lip. "Way to gender-stereotype, demon lover." She hunkered down anyway and gave a forced smile at the kid, who promptly fled and buried her face in Lars' trouser leg. Lars was uneasily certain he'd be left with a snot-mark just below his knee. "See, she likes you!" The baker beamed at Lars. Rochelle he fixed with a look that seemed to say, "After I hang, draw and quarter you, I will bake you into one of my pies and eat you with mustard and relish." "Uh, Ruby?" Lars said tentatively. Big, dark eyes looked up at him from under lashes almost as long and lush as Rael's. "Sweetie, can you tell us about the kitty you saw before the fire?" Lars asked, keeping his voice soft. She considered. "Pretty." "How pretty, sweetie?" Ruby was clearly well on the way to learning her dad's repertoire of looks. The one she threw Lars said quite plainly what a moron he obviously was. "Pretty," she repeated, loud and clear for the terminally hard-of-thinking. Lars racked his brains. "Uh, was it a pretty color?"

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The kid grabbed him by one finger, which was about all of Lars that she could fit in her doll-sized hand, and pulled him along with a surprisingly strong grasp. She led him to a room that seemed to be entirely carpeted with paper and crayons. "Kitty!" Ruby beamed proudly. Lars looked at the scribbles, all variations on the theme of Early Toddler Abstract, his heart sinking. Then his eyes narrowed. Maybe there was something to be learned from her explosions of color? "Was it all these colors, sweetie?" Ruby smiled at him indulgently. It seemed maybe he wasn't a total imbecile after all, and might one day, given luck and the attention of trained professionals, develop into a functioning member of society. "Pretty kitty!" Squatting down, Lars grabbed a piece of paper that hadn't been totally covered in childish scrawl, and sketched a lizard-shape on it, which he then filled in with a mosaic of colors. "Is this your kitty, sweetie?" "Kitty!" Ruby squealed in delight, hugging Lars' knee. "Gotcha," Lars said in satisfaction. He straightened up carefully so as not to send the witness flying. "Rochelle," he called, "I know what we're dealing with here. Our firestarter's a salamander."

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"Whoop-de-fucking-do," Rochelle muttered under her breath. "You have any idea how frickin' hard it is to catch those overgrown lizards without getting rotisseried?" "Well, it's hardly the worst thing it could have been." Lars reminded her reasonably as they left the apartment. "A couple of the guys had a dragon to deal with back before you joined the department. Warczynski nearly got fried before they figured out some way of getting it to land so they could banish it. You know those charms don't work unless the demon or whatever's in contact with the earth." "Well, duh. So we'd wave something shiny at its scaly ass! Jeez, don't you ever read fairy tales?" Lars frowned. "I wonder if there's something similar for salamanders? It's odd, isn't it, that there doesn't seem to be a lot of research done on them." "Yeah, well, it's kinda hard to write up your notes when you just got your ass barbecued by your frickin' subject. C'mon, Thornsson, we need to get our asses back to the precinct if we're gonna make it in time to Makler's send-off. Unless, of course, you're in a hurry to get home so you can check your boyfriend's knees for carpet burns." Lars took a deep breath. "Hell, C, you don't stop, do you? I trust Rael, okay?"

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She sneered. "Just don't come crying to me when he carves out your heart and serves it up to you on a plate. And you'd better hope like Hell that ain't literal." *** DI Kurt Makler's retirement party was being held in the back room of a bar just a block down from the precinct. It was a popular hang-out for the PEA, most of whose members saw enough weird shit during the day that they didn't want to have to walk too far after they clocked off and risk seeing any more before they'd gotten a couple beers inside them. Lars had been expecting to know pretty much everyone there, but there were a fair number of faces he'd never seen before, both male and female. Dates, he figured. One guy stood out like an orchid in a cornfield -- tall, well-built, fine-featured, and with eyes so green they almost glowed. Contact lenses, had to be. Either that, or he'd been doing some deals with demon organ-traders that Lars really didn't want to know about. Not while he was off-duty, anyhow. Lars turned his face away as those eyes swung around to focus on him. Damn, he was missing Rael so much it was like a knife in his guts. All around him, guys were coupled up, hugging their girlfriends openly. Lars would have given his right arm to be able to sling his left one around his lover right now. He didn't give a damn about anyone knowing he was gay -- but bring a demon to a PEA shindig? He might as well get a witch to curse his career progression and have A Blast from the Past - 15

done with it. Not to mention, all it would take would be one cop to be a little over-eager with the banishment curses they all kept at the ready, and Lars would be sleeping alone at night. At least until he figured out how to summon Rael back from Hell. Automatically, his hand went to his wallet, where he kept the slip of paper with Rael's summoning name written on it. Not for the first time, Lars wondered if that was a safe place to keep it. Hell, maybe he should have it tattooed somewhere, although that'd take some explaining if one of the guys noticed it in the showers. Rochelle pushed past Green-Eyes by the bar and came over to Lars, glass in hand and a scowl on her face. "Jeezus, wouldya look at those guys? All over each other! Someone get them a room already!" Lars gave a forced laugh. "Some of the rookies getting a little frisky for you?" "Not them! Damn Makler and his fucking Stepford wife! Jeez, you'd have thought by their age they'd have gotten over the slushy stuff!" Lars looked. The Maklers were talking to the captain, arms around each other. Married thirty years and still together. Lars wondered how long he and Rael would make it. Hell, who was he kidding? Rochelle was right -- Rael was a frickin' sex demon, and more importantly, a guy. No way was someone that hot keeping it in his pants while Lars A Blast from the Past - 16

worked all the hours and then some. Why the hell couldn't Lars have been born straight? "Another drink?" he asked Rochelle abruptly and stomped off to the bar. There were a couple rookies leaning on it, bitching about something as per frickin' usual. "Man," one of them was whining, "does this party suck ass or does it suck ass? I told you we shoulda blown it off and hit the bars with the girls..." Lars frowned. It was kinda weird, now he thought about it. Nobody seemed to be enjoying themselves. Everyone was too damn busy mouthing off about something or other. His train of thought was broken by Makler leaning on the bar next to him and sighing heavily. "Damn, I'm going to miss this. Nothin' to do now but wait to die." Now that was definitely not right. "Uh, Makler? Didn't you just spend the last five years telling us how much you were looking forward to retiring? How you're going to see all fifty-one states, then move out to the country and teach your grandkids how to fish?" Makler stared at him for a long moment, then blinked. "Damn it, Thornsson, you're right! Hell, I don't know what got into me! Lemme buy you a drink, son!" Lars grinned, his mood suddenly lightening. Maybe it was Makler calling him "son" when there were only three years A Blast from the Past - 17

between them, but he'd gotten used to that over the last twenty years. "Make it a small one. I got someone waiting for me back home." He got a warm, fuzzy feeling just thinking of his Rael. He got an elbow in the ribs and a boozy laugh for his trouble. "Got yourself some cute piece of tail, eh, son?" "Makler, you don't know the half of it," Lars told him, his trousers tightening just at the thought of that wicked tail. Damn, what had he been thinking? Of course his Rael would be waiting for him back home. Rael wasn't the kind of demon who played away. Rochelle was talking out of her ass. It wasn't until he finally made his way out of the door, through groups of cops and their friends all laughing and having fun -- even Rochelle seemed to have a smile on her face -- that Lars realized he hadn't seen Green-Eyes in a while. *** Rael had finished folding the napkins and was flicking through the channels trying to find Hell's Kitchen when the doorbell rang. "Honey, you forget your key again?" he called out fondly as he pulled open the door. A Blast from the Past - 18

It wasn't Lars. "Hey, Rael, long time no see." Lev's smooth voice flowed over Rael like white-hot molasses as he stepped over the threshold and back into Rael's life. Rael felt his heart start dancing a tarantella like it wanted to dance right out of his chest and get the hell out of Dodge. Not that he could blame it. Lev? Here? He took a big ol' step back, but damn, stepping into the next dimension still wouldn't have been far enough for his liking. "Lev? This is not going to happen." "No? Sweet thing, you've missed me. I know you have. Do you really think your human lover can compare?" "Lev, you don't know my Lars," Rael said defiantly, working on getting back his equilibrium. "No? I've just spent the evening with him, Rael. Guess I know what you see in him, lover. The boy's almost as ripped as I am. But these humans, they're all style and no substance." "Lars has plenty of substance. And he doesn't screw around on me like you did," Rael told him with only half his mind on his words. His gut was busy roiling like he'd eaten someone icky at the thought of Lev messing with his Lars.

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Lev was smirking like the cat that seduced the canary and then got it to feed itself to him, one wing at a time. "You sure about that, sweet thing? Boy looked pretty damn tight with that partner of his. Guess deep down, all these humans want is to be like every other sorry little mortal." Rael went rigid. "What did you do to him, Lev?" "Me? I don't do a thing, lover, you know I don't. I just let them get on with doing it to themselves." "How did you even know that was my Lars, anyhow?" Rael demanded, giving Lev a mean old stare that just bounced off of that thick hide like hailstones off of the gates of Hell. "Oh, I've been watching you, sweet thing. Because you know I will always find you, Rael, wherever you go." Lev gave that wicked, wicked smile of his that used to make Rael's knees go weak but now just made him sick to his stomach. "You know, Rael, you might want to close your drapes when you do that thing with your tail. Not that I mind watching, every once in a while." Lev moved forward and caressed Rael's face with one of those damn treacherous hands of his. "Come on, sweet thing, you belong with me, not some dumb-ass mortal lawman. We were good together. Don't you remember how hot we were?"

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Rael jerked his face away. "I remember getting home and finding you getting hot with that damn twiglet, that's what I remember." "Baby, you're jealous of a tree sprite?" Lev's laugh was so damn hard and sharp you could have used it to etch glass. "Lev, you can do the whole damn forest for all I care. We are over. Now, are you gonna get your lyin', cheatin' ass the hell out of my home and away from my lover, or do I have to banish you?" "Sweet thing, I'd like to see you try. Oh, I'm going, but I'll be back, you can bet your tight little ass on that." "You just keep away from me and my man, you hear me?" Rael slammed the door shut behind him and leaned on it, breathing hard. *** "Rael? I'm home, b-mumph!" Lars' words were cut off abruptly as six feet of slender succubus attached itself to him at the mouth. He just had time to notice Rael was shirtless and wearing those leather trousers from back when they'd first met, the ones that never failed to get Lars from zero to rigid in point oh three seconds flat, before his eyes rolled back in their sockets and all the blood in his body flew south for the winter. A Blast from the Past - 21

"Honey? You are late, and I am starving for you," Rael breathed into his mouth, before leaning in again and wrapping his tongue around Lars'. "Guh," Lars managed. "Need to feel you, honey. Need you inside of me. Taking me. Making me yours." "Off. Pants," Lars stuttered out with an impressive display of articulacy under the circumstances. Rael arched his back and licked his full, red lips with that wicked forked tongue of his as he shimmied out of the leather trousers. He wasn't wearing anything underneath. His tail whipped out like it had just been jonesing to be free and waved gently from side to side, like it was waiting for orders. And damn, wasn't that a frickin' turn-on? "You want I should take your clothes off, sugar?" Rael asked demurely. "Yeah," Lars forced out, his mouth almost too dry to form words. Long, slender fingers unbuttoned his shirt and slid inside, searing his skin with their teasing touch. They dropped to Lars' waistband and undid his pants, feathering over his iron-hard cock and gently freeing it from its confines. A Blast from the Past - 22

Rael smiled at him coquettishly. "Honey, now what in the world am I goin' to do with this?" "S-suck it," Lars groaned, as those evil, evil fingers ghosted over his manhood far too gently. Rael dropped gracefully to his knees like he'd been born to suck dick. And that was a train of thought Lars didn't want to follow too far, so he just let his balls do the thinking for him and damn, were they pleased with the way things were going. They got even happier as Rael took each one into his mouth in turn, rolling it around with his tongue and sucking on it like a Tootsie Pop. Lars' cock felt like it was ready to explode so he grabbed Rael's head and gently pulled him off a little. "My cock. Now," he ordered, although he couldn't have said whether it came out more like begging. And then that long, forked tongue was wrapped around his cock and Lars couldn't even think anymore. Rael was sucking away like he'd been starving for a decade, and Lars would have sworn there were stars swirling around that beautiful dark head. Rael wasn't even touching himself; all his attention focused on Lars, and damn, that wasn't right. "Wait," Lars gasped. As Rael pulled off of him for a moment, enough thought returned to Lars' hormone-fogged brain that he could figure out how to tell Rael what he wanted. "Up. Turn around, baby. I want to see that sweet, round ass and that beautiful tail of yours." A Blast from the Past - 23

Rael complied, kissing his way up Lars' body, then turning and leaning both hands against the wall and grinding his pert little ass against Lars' swollen cock. Damn, that felt good, and the view was even better. Rael's sleek, velvety tail slithered lazily up Lars' chest, teasing his nipples. "You ready for me, baby?" Lars asked hoarsely. "Lars, honey, I am always ready for you," Rael replied breathily. That wicked tail snaked out around Lars' back, pulling him in so close Lars would have sworn he could feel Rael's heart beating against his chest like it was knocking on a door and wanting to come in. Lars lined himself up and, with a groan, plunged himself inside his lover so deep he was sure his cockhead had to be bruising Rael's tonsils from the other side this time. "Honey, that is so damn good," Rael moaned. "I've been so hungry for you, Lars. Fill me up, honey. Fill me so damn full I won't want to eat for a week." It took all Lars had not to come right there and then. Wrapping his left arm around those taut, flat abs like an iron bar, Lars reached with his right and grabbed a hold of Rael's cock. Long, slender and beautiful, just like Rael himself, the heat of it making Lars wonder if his love didn't have a bit of salamander in him somewhere. Lars started to stroke it just the way he knew his lover liked, good and hard with a little twist at the end. A Blast from the Past - 24

"Honey... oh, Lars!" There was no rush like this, like making his little sex demon lose control and start gasping and moaning, every sweet little sound going straight to Lars' heart and his balls in equal measure. "Lars!" Rael wailed, that beautiful cock hot as Hellfire and hard as steel in Lars' hand. "Baby, are you close? I'm gonna..." Lost in a haze of lust and love, coherence failed Lars as his climax charged upon him like the armies of the apocalypse. Lars surrendered joyfully, groaning out his completion and getting a little extra jolt as he watched Rael shooting jizz all over the wallpaper. Knees suddenly weak, Lars collapsed to the floor and kissed his demon lover passionately. After a moment, he broke off as a thought struck him. "Uh, Rael, you weren't serious about not needing to eat for a week, were you?" he asked, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. He wasn't sure he could take a week without any demon loving. Rael smiled. "Don't you worry, honey. With you, I have always got room for one more." ***

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Lars barely made it into work on time next day, on account of having a stop to make, and Rael wanting to give him a real big send-off. Not that Lars was complaining about that, but Rochelle gave him a dirty look when he rolled up at last. "Finally, Thornsson. Okay, we got us the flame-retardant suits, the asbestos gloves, and the fire department on speed dial. You got any bright ideas what we're going to do with all this shit?" Lars nodded. "I swung by the baker's on my way over here." "You pick me up a doughnut? I like those ones with the chocolate sprinkles." "Nope, but I did pick up a picture of Kitty by little Ruby." Lars held up a scribble. Even with the best will in the world, it still looked like an explosion in a paint factory. "See that?" He pointed to a smaller, less psychedelic scrawl at the bottom of the page. "She even signed it. Way I figure it, you fire up that scrying bowl of yours, this should be just enough to tip it in our favor." "Jeez, are you out of your frickin'... hell, gimme that. It's gotta be worth a try." A half hour and a whole bunch of incantations later, Lars wasn't feeling so optimistic, and Rochelle looked ready to hurl her scrying bowl at the next asshole who asked if she A Blast from the Past - 26

could get porn on it. Lars took a gulp of coffee and willed his brain into gear. "Okay, let's think about this. If you were a salamander, where would you go?" "Back to frickin' Hell, where I belonged? Jeez, Thornsson, how the hell would I know?" Lars pulled his battered copy of National Geographic's Bestiary of the Infernal Dimensions off of the shelf and flicked through to "S." There were only a few lines on salamanders, together with a short memorial to a halfdozen guys who'd gotten burned in the name of research. "Says here they like warm places... make their nests in rotting wood... Try and concentrate on that kind of stuff." Rochelle's frown grew deeper as she bent over her bowl, nose almost touching the surface. "Okay... I'm gettin' something. Not sure right now what it is... Pizza. I'm getting pizza." "Uh, C? You want we should break for something to eat?" "No, dickwad, I'm saying our lizard's holed up in some pizza parlor. Grab that shit and let's get going." "Where to? You got a name for this place?" Rochelle rolled her eyes. "In your dreams. We're gonna start at the geographic center of the last three attacks and work our way out." A Blast from the Past - 27

Huh. Rochelle was so full of attitude that Lars tended to forget she also had a pretty good handle on good, oldfashioned police work. *** As soon as the door had closed behind his very satisfied lover, Rael had gotten busy. He'd had him a big ol' American breakfast, and now he was ready to face anything, up to and including his rat fink ex-lover Lev. No way was he letting that boy work his evil mojo on Lars again. Maybe he should have warned Lars? Rael paused in his preparations. No, this way was better. If he told Lars there was a mean old envy demon in town, Lars would have to report it officially, and Rael was damn certain his man would be in all kinds of trouble at work if they found out Lars had been giving Rael house room. Besides, they hadn't had a whole lot of time for talking last night. Rael sighed in pleasure at the memory. Rael was kinda wishing he hadn't thrown out all of Lev's stuff after the break-up. He could have done with something that'd help him track the guy. Not that he'd have kept it in Lars' place anyhow, but he could have called his momma up and gotten her to bring it round. Making sure Lars was out first, of course, because while his momma had been bitching about not getting to meet Rael's new guy, Rael figured the longer that meeting was put off, the better. A Blast from the Past - 28

But seeing as how all Rael wanted was to protect his lover, the problem was easily solved. Tracking Lars was gonna be like skipping down the Yellow Brick Road. And Rael figured he was a damn sight smarter than some kid in a gingham frock. He opened up the closet and took out the little compact mirror he'd had prepared just for something like this. Where the powder puff should have gone, there was a lock of Lars' hair. Scrying with a mirror instead of a bowl was kinda tricky, but just like with all magic, the stronger the connection between the seeker and what was sought, the easier it got. If it was his man he was looking for, Rael figured he could manage it just fine. *** Three dozen pizza parlors into the day Lars figured if he never saw another anchovy in his life it'd be too damn soon. He thought longingly of the lunch Rael had prepared for him, stuck in his desk drawer back at the precinct. He'd sneaked a peek on the way in this morning. There were three kinds of meat and sausages cut into little octopus shapes. At least, he thought the little tentacle things were octopuses. For all he knew, they could be a faithful representation of Rael's nearest and dearest back home in A Blast from the Past - 29

Hell. "Okay, Rochelle, what're we up to?" he asked wearily. "Next one's a dive named Death by Mozzarella. Half a block over." They stopped outside a place with the familiar red-whiteand-green paint job and a board advertising their woodburning ovens. Rochelle snorted. "I figure even if it's a bust, we can nail their asses for breaking city smoke regulations." They got the usual worried looks from the customers who were wondering if the place was about to be closed down for Health Code violations, and were shooed into the kitchens by a pissed-looking maitre d' when Lars explained the situation. "Listen, guys, I know you're just doing your jobs -- but seriously, don't you think we'd have noticed if there was a five-foot reptile rooting through the refrigerators?" The maitre d' mopped his brow with a tea towel. "We got fourteen covers out there for lunch and the head chef's off sick -- and no, it ain't a case of food poisoning. Is this going to take long?" "We'll be as quick as we can, sir, but I'm sure you'd rather be safe than sorry," Lars told him, already scanning the area for anywhere a salamander might be hiding. His eyes fell on a couple of chest freezers set a foot or so away from the back wall. It got pretty hot behind freezers, didn't it? A Blast from the Past - 30

"Can you give me a hand shifting these, please?" Lars asked, wearily pulling on the flame retardant headgear and gloves for the nth time that day. *** Rael was feeling kinda droopy. Damn, did police work have to be so hard on the feet? And this whole hunt-thepyro game seemed to be one big old pizza-crawl. He hadn't seen a whisker of Lev, and he was getting real tired of cooling his heels in one cheap coffee shop after another while he watched the latest place Lars and Rochelle were checking out. Maybe he'd had this figured out all wrong? It'd be just like that low-life to make Rael think Lev was going after Lars when he had a whole different ballgame in mind. Messing with people's heads was kinda Lev's specialty. They'd gone into some fancy joint called Death by Mozzarella, and damn, they were taking their time. Rael sighed. Hell, maybe he should just get his ass on home and make sure Lev wasn't planning any nasty surprises back at the apartment. Like maybe turning up buck naked in Lars' bed to make him think Rael was cheating on him. Rael shivered a little at the thought. He didn't think Lars was the type to banish first and ask questions later, but he'd just as soon not put his man to that test. Spirits lifting now he'd come to a decision, Rael laid a few dollars on the table and walked out, wincing a little as his A Blast from the Past - 31

poor feet hit the sidewalk. Man, he was getting a cab home. Rael let his powers trickle on out through the ether, and sure enough, a cab screeched to a halt with a dazed-looking driver at the wheel. Rael flipped the switch, and the guy blinked and then glared at him. "You want a ride or what?" Climbing into the cab, Rael reflected on how his life had changed since meeting Lars. A couple months ago, he'd have been all over that "or what?" *** The maitre d' rolled his eyes and jerked his head at one of the kitchen staff, who made a token show of helping while Lars nearly put his back out shifting the damn freezer. It was in a dark corner, and Lars' eyes took a moment to adjust as he peered round the chest. And then -- there was a flicker of motion, and he saw the salamander. It looked like a Roman mosaic brought to 3D, Technicolor life, all shimmering geometrical patterns. Damn, it was beautiful. The really deadly ones always were, he guessed. "Okay, I want everyone out of here!" Lars ordered, not taking his eyes off of the cute little beast. It glanced up at him, blinked, and flicked its tongue out nervously -- then bolted toward the ovens in a blur of color. As the few A Blast from the Past - 32

restaurant staff lingering in the doorway variously screamed and cursed, Lars dived for the salamander, grabbing hold of that long, thick tail. He cursed as it snapped off in his hands, leaving him holding about two feet of Pretty Kitty he was damn sure he wouldn't be showing to little Ruby. And then the whole frickin' place exploded into flames. *** Lars struggled awake to the sound of a harsh voice making like it was his mom. For a horrible moment, Lars thought it was his mom. "Jeez, Thornsson, you ever do that to me again, I will fry you myself, you got that?" He blinked up at Rochelle's angry face. Maybe it was the whole near-death experience, but Lars felt a rush of warmth as he looked at that familiar scowl. Gradually, his mind cleared, and he looked around a little. He seemed to be lying in a hospital bed. "Am I, uh...?" "You're fine, asshole. Falling beam bounced off of that damn thick skull of yours before the fire department managed to haul your ass outta that place." Lars looked down at himself, relieved to see no sign of any burns. "Guess all the protective clothing worked." He swung his legs gingerly over the side of the bed. Apart from a mild headache, he actually felt pretty good. He A Blast from the Past - 33

figured he had his mom's genes to thank for that. When they made Valkyries, they built them to last. "You okay, C?" he asked, concerned. He couldn't see any sign of singeing or other damage, but after all, she was only human. Even if he did have to remind himself of that from time to time. "I'll live, asshole." Rochelle was repeating insults. Clearly, she'd really been shaken up. "I'm glad to hear that," he told her sincerely. She flushed a little. "Well, you too, dickwad," she admitted grudgingly. "Did you call Rael about this?" Lars asked, not altogether sure what he wanted the answer to be. "No." "No?" She rolled her eyes. "Listen, Thornsson, I'd have called him if you were badly hurt, okay?" "Thanks, C." Hell, it was probably for the best. He didn't want Rael to worry about him unnecessarily. But he sure as hell wanted his lover to know if he did get seriously fucked over. With Rochelle still visibly off balance, Lars figured it was now or never. "Are you going to tell me why you're so damn anti me and him?" A Blast from the Past - 34

Rochelle looked away. Lars waited. He figured she'd break if he was patient enough. It took even less time than he'd thought. "All right, already! So I got my heart broken by one of those damn demon boys back in the day!" Lars stared. That was so not what he'd been expecting. "You?" "What, you think I got a heart of stone in here? Like I wouldn't know love if it jumped up and bit me on the butt?" Not only that, Lars would have laid money on her being a dyke. In fact, come to think of it, he had -- a couple of the guys at the station were running a betting pool on it. It didn't seem like a good time to mention that, however. "So who was he? Or what, even?" Lars asked, boggling a little at the thought of Rochelle with a demon. "He was a vamp," Rochelle ground out. "And yeah, I know, so you can stop looking at me like that. I was just a kid, okay, and there he was, with his damn sparkly eyes and his old-fashioned manners, swearing eternal love and telling me I was the prettiest girl he'd seen in all of his two hundred years. And hell, Thornsson, you ever get bit by a vamp? That demon boy of yours ever sink his pearly whites into you?"

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"Uh, no. Rael's got... other attributes." Lars swallowed, thinking of Rael's tail and the feel of it stabbing inside him and wriggling its way on up... "Lemme tell you, there ain't nothing like it... are you listening?" Rochelle's tone went from dreamy to snappish quicker than a vamp dusting in the sunlight. "Yeah!" Lars adjusted the blankets over his lap hastily. "Sure. So what happened? You two have a fight and you ended up staking him?" Rochelle snorted. "He didn't handle the aging process too well." "Uh, C? Vamps don't age." "That's kinda my point. Damn bastard told me I'd lost my bloom, can you believe it? I was eighteen! Who the fuck loses their frickin' bloom at eighteen?" "You know, vamps are kinda famous for the, uh..." "The whole damn jailbait thing? Yeah, I know already. Now, I know. Then, I just thought we were different -- hell, Thornsson, don't you remember being seventeen?" "Well, it was forty years ago..."

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"Jeez, , do you have to remind me? I feel like I just talked dirty to my grampa." She looked at him distrustfully, like she was already regretting spilling her guts. Lars cleared his throat, feeling she deserved a change of subject. "Listen, C, did anyone get that thing's tail out of there? It came off in my hands when I made a grab for it." "Took 'em ten minutes to pry it out of your mitts. We got it bagged and tagged back at the station. What, you planning on getting it stuffed and mounted?" Lars shrugged. "No, I just figured I'd take it home to Rael, see what he made of it." After all, it couldn't hurt. *** "You pulled its tail off?" It occurred to Lars belatedly, aided by the furious look and the three-octaves-higher tone, that Rael was uniquely placed to take a very dim view of that kind of thing. "It was an accident! I was trying to get a hold of the thing!" "By its tail? So I suppose if I tried to walk out on you, you'd do the same to me?" Rael was practically quivering with rage. Too late, Lars realized it might have been better to introduce the subject some other way than, "Hey, Rael, guess what? I caught a quarter of our firestarter today!" A Blast from the Past - 37

"Baby, that ain't the same! Kitty was, uh, resisting arrest! Come on, Rael, you know I love your tail." Lars allowed his voice to drop an octave, hoping to distract the irate imp. "In fact, I've been just itching to touch it all day. Why don't we just..." He broke off at the look on his lover's face. "Why don't you just go grow your own damn tail!" Rael snarled, flouncing into the spare room and slamming the door behind him. "I am not hungry!" filtered petulantly through the closed door, only slightly muffled. Screw it. Next time, Lars decided, he was definitely telling Rael about the whole damn nearly-burning-to-death thing. *** Rael was still mad at him next day. Oh, he'd made Lars his lunch, but it was pretty darn clear he was still feeling tetchy over the tail issue. Lars looked gloomily at the sandwich that was inside his Tupperware this morning. Stale bread, no butter, and a sad little slice of processed cheese that turned down at the corners. Sighing, Lars walked into the station and slung his jacket over his chair. Maybe the day would get better as it went along. After all, Rael could only go so long without eating, couldn't he? Lars pulled his copy of Daemons: Ye Cayre and Feeding Thereof down from the shelf and flicked to "S." A Blast from the Past - 38

Whylst ye succubus, beeing as it is a creature of insatiable desyre, will sate its lustfull appetite as often as it can, it is yett able in times of dire necessitie to subsist indefinitely without nourishmente of ye carnale kind. A notable case occurred in 1751: having been immured alive by hir lover for a trifling offence, a succubus in New England was fownde to be hayle and heartie seventeen years later. Hir powers however were considerably diminished, according to ye only survivor of ye partie who hadd made ye fateful discoverie. Lars slammed the book shut with a sigh. Seventeen years? He could only hope that Rael wasn't the sort of demon to bear a grudge for long. *** Rael waited to be sure his lover was good and gone -- and that Lars knew damn well he was still in the doghouse -before slipping out of the apartment. Time for Rael to go shopping. No way was he leaving that poor salamander out there waiting for Lars and his coworkers to pull it in piecemeal. Man, was he pissed with Lars. Pulling off that poor creature's tail! Such a pretty tail, too, all the colors of the rainbow. Rael liked his own plain black tail just fine, and he knew his man appreciated it, but he also knew a thing of beauty when he saw it. And it made A Blast from the Past - 39

his blood boil to think of what poor little Kitty was going through right now. It happened all too often, though. Some demon let his kids nag him into getting them a salamander for Samhain, and everything was just peachy until it got big and started singeing the drapes. Then it was, "Sorry, kids, Sally's gone to live in a volcano," and daddy demon opened up a portal and dumped the poor creature into someone else's backyard. Or dimension, as it might be. Well, Rael was going to show poor little Kitty that some demons still cared. He'd always wanted a pet, anyhow. Resolve raising his spirits until they were bobbing in the air in front of him instead of hanging down around his knees, Rael set off toward Eighth Street. He knew just where he needed to go. As he stepped into the delicatessen on the corner with Main Street, Rael beamed at the lady behind the counter. And man, there was plenty of her to beam at. "Angelique, honey, how are you? You're lookin' good, girl." She looked even better wearing the smile that lit up her face at the sound of his voice. "Rael! Hey, where you been, boy? Did your man like that prosciutto I sold you last week?" "Oh, honey, he liked it just fine." Rael kept on smiling. He'd eaten well that night, too, as he recalled. A Blast from the Past - 40

Angelique nodded her head, her earrings doing a happy little dance. "Well, he is going to love the chorizo we just got in. You want to try some?" "Later, honey. It's a date. Right now, I'm looking for somethin' a little more unusual. Would you be able to tell me where I could get hold of some coal?" "Coal! Boy, we don't often get asked for that in here! Well, I guess you could try the hardware store on Main Street -how much would you be needing? You looking for a regular supply?" "No, I just need a handful." Angelique raised both eyebrows so high they almost disappeared into those crazy scarves she always wore wrapped around her head like a turban on acid. "Do I want to know what you're planning on using this for?" Rael laughed. "No, honey, you probably don't." "Well, here's what you do. You get yourself down to the hardware store -- you been there yet? No? Now, don't you go asking old man Weiss himself. You go straight out back where that boy of his works at the tool counter. I seen that boy around plenty, and I figure you ought to be able to persuade him to let you have a little coal." "Him bein' the helpful sort?" A Blast from the Past - 41

"Him being the sort that's amenable to your particular brand of persuasion. And I know you know what I mean." "Honey, you see right through me, don't you?" Rael told her with a smile. "Rael, I see right through everybody," she called after him as he walked out the door, and her deep, throaty laughter followed him down the street like a familiar. Rael strolled on toward the hardware store, whistling a cheerful tune as he went, the sunshine lifting his spirits so high he figured St. Peter would be coming down any second to tell him to take them on home. Man, he loved this plane. The day he left this place of his own accord would be the day his momma started knitting sweaters. Of course, Hell had its good points, too, Rael had to admit. He kinda missed all the fires and the smoke, and being able to roast up some chestnuts whenever he had a fancy. Not that eating them did him a whole lot of good, but damn, did they smell good roasting. The hardware store had a sign above it with the name "Weiss & Son, Est. 1908," and Rael would bet his tail some of the inventory was original. Fork handles were rubbing shoulders with flypaper, and rubber chickens snuggled up tight to rat poison. Rael wasn't sure if it was nature or nurture, but something about all that chaos really sang to the demon in him. The proprietor seemed kinda busy with some old lady who looked like she'd been there for the A Blast from the Past - 42

store's grand opening, so Rael just sashayed straight on into the back room. Sure enough, the kid was there, just like Angelique had told him, flicking through a magazine as he waited for customers. "You got a minute, sugar?" "Uh, yeah, sorry!" He was kinda cute, with hair that flopped over his eyes a little, and as he jumped up from his stool, the magazine slipped to the floor, the open page displaying a real nice pair of pecs underneath a fuck-me smile. Oh, yeah, this boy would be open to Rael's brand of persuasion, right enough. "Shit! I mean, sorry!" Rael felt bad for the kid, face all red, rushing to hide what he'd been gazing at. "Don't worry, honey, we all like to look at beautiful things," Rael told him with a smile. "Oh!" Junior breathed, smiling back with a look of relief. "Uh, can I help you?" "Well, I'm looking for something kinda special. Would you have somewhere a little more private we could go?" Rael let his powers reach out and kiss that boy right where he needed it. Those baby blue eyes went wide as hubcaps. A Blast from the Past - 43

"You, uh, you wanna come out back to the stockroom?" "Lead on, sugar," Rael purred. "Now, a little bird told me you sell bags of coal here, am I right?" "Uh, yeah. You want twenty-five or fifty pounds? Fifty're cheaper, I mean, if you reckon it by the pound." "Actually I was kinda hoping you might be able to open up one of those bags and let me have a couple lumps," Rael murmured. "I'd be real obliged." "Sure. Lumps. That's -- that's uh, this way," Junior told him, his eyes starting to look kinda glazed. Rael just kept on smiling as Junior led the way through a plain wooden door that was marked "Staff Only -Trespassers at Own Risk" and into a stockroom so vast Rael figured they must have had it magically enlarged. He'd heard that kind of thing had been real popular with used bookstores once upon a time. There was rack upon rack of tools and supplies of all kinds, including some marked with a pentagram. Rael stepped up to take a closer look. "Those, uh, those are only for sale to licensed magical practitioners," Junior said breathlessly. "Coal's this way. No -- don't go down that aisle. My gramps went down that way to look for some fire irons in '87 and we haven't seen him A Blast from the Past - 44

since. We sometimes hear his stick tapping at night, though." Rael followed Junior down past shelves that didn't seem inclined to let a little thing like a ceiling stop them from stretching on up to infinity. He noticed the end of the aisle didn't seem to be getting any closer, either. Man, the first Mr. Weiss had clearly done some serious deals in his day to get the place fitted out like this. Rounding a corner, they came to a vast stockpile of sacks. Junior pulled open the nearest one and fumbled out a couple bits of coal. "These okay? 'Cause I can get some more, you only hafta ask..." Rael cut off the babbling, even though it was kind of adorable. "Honey, these'll do just fine," he purred, cranking up his power a notch and then some. "Now, honey, I'm real grateful to you, and ordinarily I'd be only too happy to give you a practical demonstration of that. But seeing as I'm kinda going steady with a guy, I'm thinkin' it wouldn't be right for me to get down and dirty with anyone else." Rael tried to ignore the rumbles of hunger that were reverberating right through his soul. Such a sweet little morsel, and him not having eaten lately, too. But damn, no way was he cheating on his man, even if he was still kinda pissed at Lars.

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"Uh-huh?" The boy's mouth was hanging open, and he was walking kinda funny. Rael figured this would work out just the way he wanted. "So it's kinda sad that I won't be able unbutton that old shirt of yours and squeeze those nipples until they're fit to burst, every pinch sending a jolt right down to your balls and back up through your cock." Junior squeaked, staggered back a few steps, and sat down heavily on the sack of coal he'd just looted. "And I guess I won't be getting down on my knees and breathing in the hot, sweet scent of you while I undo those pants with my teeth." There was an indistinct whimper. Man, monogamy was a bitch. Rael could eat this pretty little thing all up and still have room for dessert. "Lars, honey," he murmured to himself, "I am going to keep you in bed for a week after this." Grabbing hold of his self-control, Rael switched his mojo to the max and moved in for the kill. "And no way will I be kneading those pert round buns of yours while I work your full, thick shaft with my lips and press my tongue right inside that pretty little slit on the head of your cock..." The kid gave a strangled wail and sagged against the wall, panting. A Blast from the Past - 46

"But nevertheless, I'm real grateful, and I hope you understand that," Rael finished. He smiled in satisfaction as Junior waved a hand weakly in the universal sign for "I'm good." Carefully, Rael retraced his steps on out of the stockroom. He had the bait. Now to go get him a salamander. *** Rochelle was smiling grimly when she got to the station that morning, cling-film covered scrying bowl in hand. "Okay, Thornsson, we're in business. I got me a slice of tail in my bowl, and we are gonna nail the rest of that scaly critter." Lars risked a look. It sort of looked pretty much like some weird-ass soup he'd had once on vacation. His stomach gave a gentle heave in not-so-fond reminiscence. "You seeing anything, C?" he asked after she'd been staring at it for a good ten minutes with no visible reaction. "Kinda black... hot damn!" Rochelle thumped the desk in satisfaction. "Elvis has not left the building! That dumb-ass lizard is still hanging out around that damn burned-out pizza parlor." Lars felt like cheering. A bit of action was just what he needed to take his mind of the, uh, total lack of action he A Blast from the Past - 47

was suffering from. "Okay, C, let's get the fire-resistant gear and we're out of here." "Gimme a second, Thornsson." "You want to have another look in that bowl?" Lars asked, surprised. "Hell, no. I just figured I should take a few minutes to get my affairs in order before we go and get fried." *** Rael hopped a cab up to what was left of Death by Mozzarella, figuring that poor lonesome little salamander wouldn't have gotten far, especially seeing as it was hurting. He paid the driver, who was looking kinda bugeyed for some reason, and stood staring at the burned-out building. For the first time, it hit him -- had Lars been in danger here? He was going to have to find out, Rael decided, and then he was going to have words with his man. But right now, Rael realized, there was something he'd neglected to bring. He had the coal -- but no damn way of setting it alight. "Excuse me, but have you got a light?" he asked a passerby politely. "Baby, I got anything you want," the man groaned hoarsely. A Blast from the Past - 48

Damn, Rael had known he'd forgotten something. He cranked his powers back down again hurriedly and accepted the lighter the confused-looking man pressed into his hands. Now he'd gotten everything he needed, Rael set off to explore. There was a dark little alleyway behind the shell of the pizza parlor that was just made for firin' up one of those lumps of coal. Rael flicked the lighter and held it against one of the lumps of coal until it started to smolder. "Come and get it, sugar," he crooned, "there's more where this one came from." Burning coal within half a mile of a salamander was like pouring a gallon of blood into shark-infested waters. Rael figured he wouldn't have to wait too long. *** Lars parked the squad car in front of what used to be Death by Mozzarella. All the paint was blistered, the broken windows staring like the eyeless sockets of a month-old zombie. Lars shivered a little at the thought that he'd almost died in there. A look at his partner revealed that she likely had similar thoughts on her mind. She was glaring at what was left of the building like immolation was too damn good for it. "Rochelle, you got any idea where in this deathtrap the salamander's hanging out?" Lars asked to break the silence. A Blast from the Past - 49

"Jeez, Thornsson, what do you think? Damn thing's got legs, anyhow -- unless you managed to pull those off as well?" "Hell, C, don't you start. You wouldn't believe the asschewing I got from Rael when I told him about the tail." Rochelle gave him a side-long look. "I figured you guys did that kind of thing every night for shits and giggles." Lars grimaced. "I think I liked you better before you developed a sense of humor about me and Rael. C'mon, let's scout round the outside first." They rounded the corner. And stared. The back street behind the pizza parlor was empty save for a couple garbage cans and old burger wrappers blown along listlessly by a half-hearted breeze. And, of course, a four-foot salamander, currently munching on a lump of coal while being petted by Lars' own little demon lover. "Jeezus! Speak of the devil!" Rochelle burst out. "Rael?" Lars could hear his voice cracking slightly. "What are you doing -- shit, Rael, just walk away from the salamander! You don't know what those things can do!" Still hunkered down by the salamander, Rael fixed Lars with a look almost as stern as the ones he'd been handing out the previous evening. "She is not a thing, honey. And A Blast from the Past - 50

the fire thing? That's a defense mechanism. As long as she's happy, she'll be just fine. Poor baby," he crooned to the oversized lizard, "the mean old detective didn't mean to pull your tail off. You eat your coal up, sugar, it'll make you feel a whole lot better." The sight of that scaly firestarter snuggling up to his lover was doing strange things to Lars' brain. He had a whole bunch of questions of varying degrees of urgency, so it figured that the first one that came out was pretty damn irrelevant. "Uh, I thought it was dragons that ate coal?" Rael rolled his eyes. "And like it's only big, blond detectives who eat steak? Coal is one of your basic food groups for fire elementals." "Sorry to interrupt this fascinating discussion of infernal fucking fauna," Rochelle put in sarcastically, "but now we've got the perp, what're we gonna do with it?" Rael beamed. "I figured we could let the little cutie room with us, Lars, honey." His eyes narrowed. "At least until her tail grows back." Lars stared. "With us? Rael, are you nuts? They have regulations about fire hazards in city blocks! Plus, I kind of like my apartment like it is -- you know, not burned to a cinder with a couple of charred corpses inside!" "Oh, honey, all we need is an old-fashioned kitchen range and she'll be just fine. She only went critical 'cause she was A Blast from the Past - 51

scared, didn't you sweetie?" Rael tickled the salamander under the chin. It made a crooning sound and flicked Rael affectionately with its forked tongue. Which just figured, didn't it? They were two of a kind, weren't they? Hell, if it came down to it, Rael would probably choose that damn lizard over him. Lars cursed under his breath. Why the hell couldn't he have gotten himself a human lover, someone like Rochelle... Wait a minute. That was definitely not him thinking that. This was just like at that party. Lars frowned suspiciously. "Hold up, guys. There's something screwy going on around here." That damn green-eyed guy from the party stepped around the corner, giving him a slow hand-clap. "Oh, well done. Rael, lover, it seems your pretty mortal plaything actually has a brain." "That's half mortal, actually," Rael corrected pissily. "Oh? I'm sure I can guess which half." "So who the hell are you, anyway?" Lars demanded, not liking this one bit. "And what the hell do you mean by calling Rael lover?" "Lars, honey, this is Lev. My ex, the envy demon," Rael broke in with a bitter note in his voice. A Blast from the Past - 52

Lars remembered Rael saying it hadn't been an amicable break-up. He was kind of glad of that. Suddenly, depression punched him in the gut. This was Rael's ex? Damn, the guy was hot. How the hell was Lars going to compete with that? He might as well just walk away right now, maybe keep walking until he found a nice tall building to step off of... Lars shook his head angrily. "Watch it, C, this guy likes to mess with your mind." Rochelle pretty much sagged with relief. "Yeah? Well, thank fuck for that! I just scared the crap outta myself, thinking I was jonesing for you and me to get hitched and pop out big, blond babies!" That was a mental picture Lars could have done without. The demon was sneering at them. "Fools. You are worthless. Rael, lover, can't you see that these two deserve each other?" Lars felt like doing some kind of victory dance when he saw the fury in Rael's face. "I see, Lev, that you didn't realize what you had until you threw it away. And there ain't no recyclin' in Hell. You had your chance with me, and you blew it sky high."

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"Listen, guys," Rochelle snarled, "I don't want to be the fourth corner in your freaky little love triangle, but Rael there's cuddling a fucking incendiary device. I got an idea - why don't you just can it until we get the frickin' lizard into containment?" Lev gave a slow smile that showed way too many teeth. "Oh, she'll be no trouble. Rael and I can take her with us. You always wanted a pet, didn't you, lover?" Lars fought against the voices in his head telling him that he should let Rael go, that Lev was the only one who could give him what he really wanted. "Stay out of my fucking head, you asshole!" he roared. Rochelle looked at him with a new kind of respect. "Hell, you tell him, Thornsson!" Lev turned his attention to his ex. "Rael, lover. Can't you see how puny your mere mortal is beside me? He'll never satisfy you like I could." Rael looked so damn adorable standing there, his fists clenched by his sides and a fire in his eyes that Lars reckoned would give even Kitty pause. "Honey, he is so far ahead of you, they ain't even named the unit of measurement yet. We are over, Lev, and if I never see your lying face again, it'll be a lifetime too soon. Now, you get your cheating ass out of here and stop messing with my man!" A Blast from the Past - 54

Lev's face darkened, literally. "I think, lover, you need to learn what it's like to want what you can't have. Oh, I'll stop messing with your feeble excuse for a man -- once I've ripped out his spleen and made him eat it!" Lars stared in horror. The green-eyed demon was changing, growing until he was a foot or more taller than Lars. His arms lengthened, and claws sprouted from his fingers like he was about to do some Thai traditional dance. Or just possibly, slash straight through Lars' jugular. Just when Lars thought things couldn't get any worse, there was a sound like a thunderclap, and suddenly Green-Eyes was sporting a pair of fucking wings, black as sin and twice as ugly. With an ear-splitting screech that had Lars wondering seriously about the precise pitch of that sound that was supposed to make you crap your pants, the demon launched himself into the air. Lars gulped. "Uh, can you do that, Rael?" he asked, starting to feel he might just possibly be a little out of his depth here. Rael raised an eyebrow. "Honey, can you?" "Uh, sorry. Mom's side of the family is more into flying horses. And swans, sometimes they ride on those. But sprouting wings? Not so much. You?" Lars gabbled nervously. A Blast from the Past - 55

Rael shrugged. "I come from a long line of earth elementals." They both looked at Rochelle. She rolled her eyes. "I'm human, assholes!" "Well, you do magic," Lars said reasonably. "There's all that scrying and the banishment charms." "What, so you think I got a broomstick parked up my butt? In your dreams." She stared in angry disbelief at the huge creature circling overhead. "So how the hell are we supposed to banish that creep if he won't stay on terra fucking firma? And what the fuck is he doing up there all this time, anyhow? Some kind of weird-ass demon mating ritual?" "He's an air elemental," Rael told her softly. "He's gathering his strength from the air itself. See how he's getting bigger all the time? He's just building power until he's ready to swoop back down and reenact the St. Valentine's Day massacre." Rael stilled, and Lars was suddenly certain he wasn't going to like what was coming next. "You should go. Both of you. This is between Lev and me." "No way!" Lars shouted, just as Rochelle came out with an angry "Fuck that!" Even Kitty seemed to growl in agreement. "You think I'm leaving you alone to face that?" A Blast from the Past - 56

Rael's face had never looked so damn beautiful. "Lars, honey, the longer he's up there, the worse trouble we're in." They were so screwed, Lars thought despairingly. But if he let this piece of demon shit beat him, it'd be his Rael that fucker would be screwing. No way in Heaven was Lars letting that happen. "He's got to come down sometime if he wants a fight," Lars said firmly. "We wait. And the minute he hits the ground, you hit him with that charm, C." "Honey, when Lev gets his murdering ass back down here, it ain't the ground he's gonna be hitting," Rael said sadly. "Save it, Hellboy, he's coming back in!" Rochelle yelled, drawing her gun and firing off three, four shots as the dark fiend bore down on them with impossible speed. The bullets just seemed to bounce right off of his leathery hide. Knowing it was a waste of ammunition but needing to do something, anything, Lars stood firm and fired off a few rounds of his own -- and felt a slender body slam right into him and knock him to the ground. Rael landed on top of him as curved talons viciously raked the air where Lars' face had been moments ago. The demon screamed in frustration as he soared away once more. "Damn, that was close!" Lars breathed -- and then realized with a jolt like a stab to the gut that Rochelle was down, A Blast from the Past - 57

too, blood drenching her gun arm. "Damn it, C, he got you?" he asked frantically. "I'll live," she muttered shakily, clutching at her arm but not letting go of her gun. She cursed as she staggered back up to her feet. "You got any bright ideas, Hellboy?" she snarled, her eyes fixed on the dark shape circling lazily overhead, occasionally dipping down to taunt them with a screech. Rael didn't answer her, just helped Lars up and stood there with his jaw set, looking more like an avenging angel than a demon. Only the faint drumming of elegant fingers against his pants leg betrayed how nervous he really was. Lars was getting a real bad feeling about this. "Rael, you'd better not be thinking about doing anything stupid..." Rael just stepped up to him and kissed him softly. "I don't do stupid, honey. Now, you take care of little Kitty, you hear me?" Stunned, Lars accepted an armful of squirming salamander. Rael moved away again, stopped to whisper something in Rochelle's ear, and, putting his fingers to his lips, gave a piercing whistle. "Hey, Lev?" he called. "You want me, you better get your mean old ass down here and take me." "No!" Lars shouted hoarsely as a huge black shape plummeted out of the sky, the air seeming to crackle in its passage. There was hardly a vestige left of the demon's A Blast from the Past - 58

human appearance: his chin was now viciously pointed, and his skin had turned a vile emerald green that sparkled with malice. Two small horns sprouted from his forehead, and a foul stench of sulfur polluted the air. He was almost twice Lars' size now. Fumbling with Kitty, who, he remembered, might panic and burst into incandescent flames at any moment, Lars rushed forward impotently. Maybe he could throw the damn lizard at the bastard? He skidded to a halt at the sickening sight of his Rael being enfolded in dirty black leather wings. And then Rochelle sprang forward with her blessed silver cross outstretched, screaming, "Ab insidiis diaboli, LIBERA NOS, motherfucker!" and with that sort of phut sound the TV makes when you switch it off, only magnified ten thousand times, Rael and the demon were gone. "No," Lars repeated brokenly, staring at the empty space where his lover had been. In his arms, Kitty mewled plaintively. Rochelle turned her ashen face toward him. "Thornsson, I'm sorry. He told me to do it, damn it! It was the only way to stop Hellfreak turning you into fricassee." "It's... it's okay, C," Lars said dully, feeling like his heart had been ripped right out of his chest and carried off to Hell with his lover. "C'mon, we gotta get you to a hospital." A Blast from the Past - 59

***

By midnight that night, Rochelle had gotten her arm stitched up and about a gallon of anti-necrotics pumped into her system to counteract the venom on the demon's claws. She sat down on the couch in Lars' apartment and put a hand awkwardly on his right knee, his left already occupied by the head of the droopy little salamander he hadn't had the heart to hand over to Creature Control. He stroked it automatically as it made a sad little crooning sound. Lars guessed he wasn't the only one missing Rael. "Are we gonna do this summoning or what?" Rochelle asked almost gently. Lars looked up at her. "You don't have to do this, C. If the captain finds out about it, we'll both get suspended. You don't deserve that." Rochelle's lip curled so far Lars was surprised it didn't turn her whole face inside out. "Listen, Thornsson, you think I'm leaving you to do this on your own? I don't wanna be scraping your ass off of the ceiling when you summon the wrong frickin' demon, you got that? Now shuddup and sprinkle that damn salt." Lars almost smiled at her getting her bile back. "Do we really need a circle for this? I was kind of planning on letting Rael out to play." If they managed to reach him, that was. A Blast from the Past - 60

Rochelle scowled. "We do the damn circle. You don't take chances with this shit. I got no plans for it to be my ass they're scraping off of the ceiling if this whole thing screws up." Salt shaker in hand, Lars still wavered. "What if he doesn't want to come back? What if he really wants to be with this demon guy?" "Uh, Thornsson? What if we just do the frickin' summoning and ask him?" Lars sighed. "Got it." "Okay. Now, gimme that paper with the name on." Lars handed over the cherished slip of paper. Rochelle looked at it in disgust. "Jeez, you call that a frickin' name? Did his mom have an allergy to vowels or something?" "You're going to be able to say it, right?" Lars asked anxiously. "I'll manage. What's a sprained tongue between friends? But make damn sure you don't say a word while I'm speaking it. Don't even cough. Hell, don't even breathe funny. Last thing we want is a couple extra syllables getting in."

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It took a bit of time getting set up, Rochelle getting real pissy about the precise alignment of the candles and making him go over the salt circle three times before she was happy. As they sat down cross-legged to begin, there was a knock on the door. Lars ignored it. Probably just some door-to-door salesman or the Abaddon's Witnesses again. He concentrated on Rochelle as she recited the summoning in the flickering candlelight. They waited. Rochelle repeated the summoning. They waited some more. Nothing. Lars could have wept. Rochelle patted Lars' knee uncomfortably. "Hey, this ain't the end. We'll try again tomorrow. Maybe the stars'll be better aligned -- yeah, Thornsson, that crap does matter. We'll get him back for you, you hear me?" There was another knock at the door. It sounded kinda pissy this time. "You gonna get that?" "Yeah, fuck, whatever." Lars sighed, trudging up the hall. He opened the door. And stared. "Rael?" A Blast from the Past - 62

"Honey, it's only been a few hours," Rael purred, smiling that sweet smile Lars had been afraid was gone forever. "You forget what I look like already?" "But -- but how the hell did you get here?" Lars stuttered. "I thought you had to be summoned..." Rael stretched out one long, lean arm and pulled Lars close, kissing his mouth shut. "Damn, I have missed you, honey," he breathed. "Baby, I thought I'd never see you again!" Lars clutched his lover, desperate to reassure himself this wasn't some hallucination brought on by too much candle smoke or something. "Are you real?" he whispered, his hands roving over Rael's body like he needed to check all the bits were there. "I'm real, I'm yours, and I am so damn hungry I could eat for a week," Rael breathed. Lars couldn't see any problem with that. There was the harsh sound of Rochelle clearing her throat. "Jeez, guys, there are other people in this apartment. And some of them have delicate stomachs on account of being pumped up with seven different kinds of drugs after nearly getting their damn limbs ripped off by other people's exes." "Rochelle, I am so sorry about that," Rael told her, disentangling himself from Lars' reluctant arms and looking her deep in the eyes. A Blast from the Past - 63

"Yeah, well, whatever," she muttered, flushing a little. "Listen, that thing you did, using yourself as freakbait to save our asses... hell, you know what I'm trying to say." "I do, honey. And thank you." "You're welcome. Now, I'm feeling a sudden urge to go stroke a lizard, which ain't a frickin' euphemism, so why don't you guys just, uh, carry on getting reacquainted?" Lars smiled at her. "C, you're a star, you know that?" "Yeah, whatever. Just keep the noise down, okay? Just 'cause I had a real nice dinner doesn't mean I want to be seeing it again." She stomped off into the living room. Lars grabbed hold of his demon with both hands, pulling him close. "He didn't hurt you, did he, Rael? That bastard ex-lover of yours, I mean?" Rael smiled. "I kinda figured you weren't talking about the Tooth Fairy, honey. No, he didn't lay a claw on me. I'm all yours." Relief pulsed through every cell of Lars' body as he kissed Rael passionately. Damn, he'd missed this, missed that tongue mapping out every corner of his mouth, missed that body as it molded itself to his, missed... Rael. A Blast from the Past - 64

He broke off from the kiss, panting. Rael's tongue took the opportunity to remind itself of the contours of the rest of Lars' body. "How did you get back here without being summoned?" Lars asked once more, his curiosity having gotten the better of his lust for a moment. Rael raised his lips off of Lars' throat long enough to answer. "You remember Talia, honey? Tall, red-headed girl? You used to know her as Hellbitch?" "You mean the ninth-circle demon who killed fourteen people and wanted to eviscerate me? Uh, yeah, Rael, I remember. Kind of hard to forget a girl like that." Plus, if it hadn't been for her and her little killing spree, he and Rael never would have met. "Well, I called her up as soon as we got back to Hell -- she is so much happier now, you wouldn't believe it, got herself a sweet young thing from the eighth circle with horns that are to die for -- and she gave me a ride back. Right after she whupped Lev's skinny green ass for me. We won't be seeing him again in a hurry." "And, uh, Talia?" Happy or not, Lars would really just as soon she stayed firmly in Hell for the rest of his lifetime. "Oh, sugar, she had to run." Rael smiled fondly. "But she said to call her up any time."

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"That's... real nice, Rael." Lars made a mental note to throw all the candles and salt in the garbage at the earliest opportunity. His body had other things to think about right now. Starting with removing all of Rael's clothing. He'd just gotten to the interesting bits when, back in the living room, there was a muffled exclamation of "Oh, crap!" Lars paused. "You think Rochelle's okay in there?" "Sure thing, honey. Kitty's a real sweetheart with people she likes." Rael continued nibbling at his lover's chest, his fingers working at buttons and his tail doing wicked things through the fabric of Lars' clothing. Lars groaned aloud as Rael's sensual fingers undid his pants, then wrapped around him and started stroking... There was another indistinct curse and a sort of whumph noise. Lars wrenched his brain into gear. "Uh, Rael? Did that sound to you like a couch going up in flames?" "Thornsson?" Rochelle yelled. "You get your ass in here with a fire extinguisher right now!"

Fin.

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Characters from "Cooking With Ergot" by Luisa Prieto make a brief cameo appearance by kind permission of the author.

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A Blast from the Past Copyright © 2010 by JL Merrow All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680 Cover illustration copyright Alessia Brio Used with permission ISBN: 978-1-61040-033-6 Printed in the United States of America. Torquere Press, Inc.: High Ball electronic edition / August 2010 Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680

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