Head throbbing, Kyle finally awoke close to noon the next day. Ryka and Chris had been up chatting most of the night, and had finished off the case of beer. Well, Ryka had done most of the drinking, and now Kyle was suffering for it. But at least Ryka had managed to control himself, and hadn’t done anything worse than call Chris “handsome” in lieu of his real name. 

“You’re done for a few days, though, got it?”

Whatever. 

“I mean it. Not until Chris is gone.”

Ryka grumbled an agreement, and Kyle felt that was the best answer he was going to get. Too tired to argue, he put on his glasses and robe, and headed out to the kitchen. Chris was already up, and rummaging through the fridge, looking for breakfast. “What a trip,” he said, grabbing a carton of eggs and turning to face Kyle. 

“I guess you could say that.”

“You look like shit. Are you okay?”

“Hungover,” Kyle mumbled. His own voice was too much for him to bear. 

“You’re hungover?”

“He does all the drinking, and I get this,” he explained, massaging his temples. “Pain in my ass.”

Chris laughed. “I don’t think he does it to be vindictive.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.”

He had expected Ryka to butt in, but when he listened closely, he could hear the demon quietly snoring. Really, it was more like talking in his sleep, but whatever language he was using sounded mostly like growling, so snoring was a less disturbing way to think of it. Because he really didn’t want to know what Ryka was saying. 

Carefully shaking the thought – the room was spinning around him - Kyle sat down at the kitchen table and rested his forehead on the cool surface. The demon really was out if he could feel that. Normally, Kyle was impervious to hot and cold; since his possession, Ryka ensured his host was nothing but comfortable temperature-wise. The only times Kyle felt anything but were when Ryka purposely gave up control, or when he was too exhausted to maintain it, as he was now.  But Kyle was grateful; the chill took the edge off his headache. 

“Sorry I told him all that stuff about you.”

“What stuff?” Kyle asked, lifting his head. Although he had known that Ryka and Chris were talking, Ryka had blocked him, and Kyle hadn’t been able to hear what either of them were actually saying. And he wasn’t any good at reading lips. Without answering, Chris turned to the stove and started on making breakfast. “Don’t worry about it. He can see all my memories anyways.”

“It’s just strange. I didn’t think a demon would be like that.” In Ryka’s more relaxed moods, it was almost possible to forget what he was. He just hoped Chris didn’t get too comfortable. “Do you know why he’s not in Hell?”

It wasn’t something Kyle had really thought about. Not since that first night. “He was told he couldn’t be there anymore. Not now, anyhow. But at some point, we’re both getting called back.” No need to divulge the other reason for Ryka’s reassignment: gathering souls.

“Both of you?”

“Yeah, well, hosting a demon is pretty high up there on the list of major sins. No matter how nice they may seem.” 

“You don’t sound very concerned.”

“A little late for me to be worrying about that now.” Hoping to avoid talking any more about Ryka or his own impending damnation, Kyle rested his head back down. He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until he found himself staring across his bed at a strangely cute little demon with over-sized wings and huge, sad eyes. 

The clinking of a plate on the table startled him awake, and he stared dumbly at the scrambled eggs and toast Chris had set before him. “Maybe you should go back to bed,” Chris suggested.

Kyle shook his head, an act which made him feel even woozier. Once he was sure he wasn’t going to be sick, he explained, “It’s not like this is the first time he’s done this to me. I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure. Because I’d like to drink with you tonight.”

“Maybe you guys should have left some beer, then, huh?”

***

In anticipation of putting his body through another night of hard drinking, Kyle spent most of the afternoon in front of the TV. He felt bad ignoring his cousin, but only until he looked over to find the other man fast asleep in an armchair. It really was college all over again.

It was Ryka who finally woke him around dinnertime. I think I might cry, I’m so fucking bored. Please, get out of the house. Even for a few minutes. Mustering what little energy he had, Kyle got up off the couch, roused Chris, and suggested they walk to the nearest convenience store to restock their alcohol supply.

Although the cold no longer bothered Kyle, he was still glad there was a gas station with a convenience store only a few blocks from his house. Because although the brisk winter air had no effect on him, Chris’s teeth were chattering by the end of their ten-minute stroll.

“You go ahead. I’ll be right there.” It wasn’t his compulsion, he knew, to hang back, and also not his will to look to the far end of the parking lot. He didn’t like that at all.

Too cold to even open his mouth to answer, or to question Kyle, Chris nodded and did as his cousin suggested. Kyle walked toward the corner of the mostly empty lot, where two teenage boys appeared to be desperately waiting for someone to arrive. “Hey, mister, we’ve got the money, can you buy us some beer?”

Before Kyle even realized he recognized that voice, Ryka growled. Kyle put his hands to his throat as if that would stop it. It didn’t, and the sound seemed to echo on forever in the still night. 

“Oh, shit, Mr. S.,” Nick managed, his voice trembling. Kyle knew it wasn’t the frigid air that was making him shake. Next to him, Tommy stood staring stupidly at their teacher with his jaw hanging open. 

Kyle was just as helpless. He could feel his will bending to Ryka’s. It wasn’t just the demon’s body that was strong. When Kyle opened his mouth to speak, it wasn’t by his own volition. Nor was it his voice that came rumbling out. “What are you worthless little shits doing? How badly do you want to go to Hell?”

Hearing Ryka pulled them from their stupor. Clinging to each other, they turned and fled into the dark. As soon as they were out of sight, Kyle felt Ryka retreat. “That wasn’t really necessary.”

Sure it was. You’re on break. You don’t need to see them.

He couldn’t argue with the truth. Glad it had only been a minor incident, he headed into the store. Chris was planted in front of the beer case. “What do you think, Kyle? Sam Adams? Bud? We could get some Corona and try to pretend it’s not ten degrees outside.”

“That last one sounds good.”

And I need butts. Just get a couple packs.

They each grabbed a twelve-pack of Corona and headed for the counter. Later, Kyle would be extremely grateful that Chris had decided to make a detour to the snack aisle. He was too busy deciding what kind of chips he wanted to hear the door slide open, but the sound of a gun being cocked was almost deafening. It was immediately followed by a gruff “Empty the register.” 

He doesn’t know you’re here. The only car in the lot belongs to the guy who’s about to get shot.

“What?” Kyle breathed, unable to stop himself. In the sudden silence, he was sure the robber heard him. And he was right.

“Someone else here?” the man shouted. “Shit!” From what Kyle could tell, it sounded like the store clerk was trying to fight the gun out of the robber’s hands. Kyle winced as the first shot was fired. A second followed only seconds later. Bile rose in his throat when he realized the gurgling, rasping sounds he heard were being made by the store clerk, who was rapidly bleeding to death behind the counter. 

I suggest you take off your shirt, Master. Unless you want me to destroy another one. 

With his hands trembling, it seemed to take forever to undo the buttons. He had only just managed to shrug off his top when the robber rounded the corner into the snack aisle. Chris, who had been watching him with wide eyes, immediately dropped the twelve-pack and threw his hands up in front of him. The bottles shattered, spraying glass and beer out in all directions.

“On the ground,” the man ordered, aiming the gun first at Chris, then at Kyle. 

He’s scared, Ryka remarked. It bothered Kyle how aroused the demon sounded. He knows he fucked up. He just doesn’t know how bad yet.

“I said get down!” Only when he looked to find Chris huddled on the floor did Kyle realize that the robber was talking to him. He slowly got to his hands and knees and dropped his gaze to the tile, letting his glasses slide off. 

“Why’d you take your shirt off?” Even Kyle could hear the panic in the man’s voice now. Things weren’t going according to plan, and he was getting anxious. “What the fuck are you doing? What’s going on?”

The only answer was an unholy growl. Next to him, Chris gave a quiet gasp as the floor began to quake. 

The transformation wasn’t as quick as Kyle would have hoped. Though he had a feeling Ryka was going slowly on purpose, trying to keep the man’s attention. Kyle/Ryka could feel the horns pushing through the skin above his temples, and it was difficult not to be fascinated as he watched his nails grow out into wicked, pointed claws. 

And then Kyle was looking out through Ryka’s eyes, and feeling the demon’s huge wings open toward the ceiling. Somehow, they only emptied half the shelves in the aisle. While bags of potato chips rained down around him, Ryka raked his nails through the tile, as though testing to make sure they were sharp enough.

Throughout the entire process, the robber had stared in wonder as the man in front of him turned into some kind of monster. But when it lifted its head and stared at him with glowing red eyes, his body finally responded to the commands his mind had been screaming right from the start. He turned and sprinted for the exit, but only made it back to the front counter. The door locked while he was still a few paces away, forcing him to skid to a stop.

“Where do you think you’re going, sinner?”

“Huh? Sinner?” the man replied, spinning to face whoever had spoken. To his horror, it was the monster. 

Ryka’s lips curled back to better show off his pointed teeth. “That would be you.” Tail lashing behind him, he took a step forward, one hand outstretched toward the robber. “You pointed that thing at the wrong guy,” Ryka informed him with a nod toward the gun.

The man glanced down at the weapon, held in a white-knuckled grip, then back up at the creature slowly stalking toward him, and panicked. Eyes squeezed shut, he lifted the gun and fired off one round after another, until he’d emptied the magazine. Praying that he’d killed whatever it was, he risked opening his eyes. And immediately regretted it.

There was no doubt the demon was still very much alive, and now even angrier. Ryka curled one wing in front of himself, and glared at his prey through one of the smoking holes a bullet had left there. “That was a big fucking mistake, mortal.” He snapped his wings shut and advanced on the robber, who dropped the gun and raised his hands, as though they’d provide some sort of protection. 

Hissing, Ryka wrapped one hand around the man’s throat. It was only seconds before he was turning blue, gasping for air and feeling the constriction grow tighter with every attempted inhale. Blood spurted from the places where Ryka’s claws were sunk deep into his neck, and vessels were bursting in his eyes. 

He smelled like fear. And adrenaline. The last bit of which inspired his prey to try and struggle free. Scoffing, Ryka squeezed tighter, putting a quick end to the man’s efforts. “I was going to drag this out and make you really suffer, but I’m way too pissed now.”

Ryka, don’t kill him!

“Sorry, Master. Tonight’s his night. It’s this or let him wrap his car around a tree running from the cops. This is much more satisfying.” Very much more so. This was a heady new drug, the fear of imminent death. And of knowing what was going to come after it. This would be far too easy to get addicted to, Ryka thought, his heart pounding harder even than his victim’s. 

While he crushed the robber’s windpipe, Ryka put his free hand over the man’s mouth. As his victim took his last breath, Ryla clenched his fist and pulled his hand away. What looked like gray smoke writhed between his fingers and enveloped his hand, but seemed unable to escape from his grasp. Dropping the now soulless and lifeless body, Ryka turned to the far wall, where his shadow was watching the proceedings with hungry eyes. “I know you’ve been waiting for this. Open wide.”

Until now, Kyle had only ever seen the shadow act as intimidation. In theory, he understood it was a portal, but had hoped never to see it in action. The shadow had obviously been hoping otherwise. Its glowing eyes narrowed to slits as it opened its mouth.  

Flames danced behind jagged teeth, and Kyle swore he heard the tormented screaming of the damned. He could see the heat billowing out of the shadow’s suddenly cavernous maw, and he could feel Ryka basking in the familiar warmth. But to Chris, who had crawled out of the aisle to see what was going on, he was sure it felt like someone had just opened the door to a blast furnace. 

“Tell Satan that Ryka says ‘hi,’ okay?” the demon taunted as he released his grip on the soul. The gray smoke that had been the man’s life force was sucked toward the shadow’s mouth. As soon as it was through, the doorway to Hell was closed, and Ryka’s shadow receded. 

But that still left two bodies and security footage. There was one simple way to erase the evidence: incinerate it. A fire would make the news, but there would be no one to tie it to. The punks from Kyle’s class probably had enough brainpower to be able to put two and two together, but they’d suffer worse fates if they ever came forward. And if they weren’t clever enough to know that, Ryka would gladly dispose of them, too.

Still elated from his kill, Ryka’s fire sprang to life on his wings with an audible “whoosh.” The magazine rack near the counter made much the same noise as Ryka dipped his wings to touch that morning’s newspapers. The Hellfire spread faster than should have been possible, but Ryka didn’t take the time to admire the sight. 

With a nod to Adam, now scooting toward the exit on his belly to avoid the smoke, Ryka sank to his knees and retreated.