Death's Daughter Part 11

For example, let's say you were a fundamentalist Evangelical pastor who had preached all about the sanct.i.ty of marriage, but in your own life you'd been s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g as many c.o.ked-out man-wh.o.r.es as you could get your mitts on.

When you died, you were judged by Death and (rightly) sent to h.e.l.l for your hypocrisy. But you weren't just let out into the bullpen with all the other sinners; instead, you were sent to your special "Lake of Fire," where you, and the other Evangelical Christian sinners, would spend your days of punishment sewing sequins on all the gaffs for the Devil's favorite cabaret, The Gay Minority Demons' Drag Show. (And for the uninformed, a gaff is an undergarment used to conceal a drag queen's private parts. I didn't know that, but Jarvis did.) Some other tasks you might have the opportunity to enjoy: cleaning three football fields' worth of pagan statuary with your tongue; learning the lyrics and melodies to every Barbra Streisand, Britney Spears, ABBA, and Judy Garland tune ever sang, then performing said songs for the demon in charge of your sector of h.e.l.l; and reading all the Harry Potter books out loud to a roomful of deaf-mutes.

After you were sufficiently punished-and hopefully learned your lesson-you were then recycled back into the soul pool for rea.s.signment. If you were a really stubborn case who wouldn't learn from your mistakes, more often than not you ended up being reborn as a fly. Don't ask me why, but there was something about s.h.i.+t and flies that appealed to the guys in charge of h.e.l.l tremendously-or at least that was what Jarvis said.

After a few reincarnations as a fly, most souls got the idea.

The most interesting thing I learned about h.e.l.l from Jarvis was that as humanity changed, so did the Afterlife. Human beings were forever denouncing their religions, deciding that this G.o.d, or that G.o.ddess, was out of favor, and anyone who believed in them would be killed, or castrated. That didn't mean those G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses ceased to exist when their religions faded. Quite the contrary, in fact. Rather, they became part of the larger framework of the Afterlife, working to maintain the steady flow of souls in and out of Heaven and h.e.l.l. Some of them worked for Death directly, like the Anubis Brothers; others took on a more managerial position in the company, like Wodin and the two G.o.ddesses I'd encountered in Atlantis.

Following the curve of the river, Jarvis listed off a waterfall of facts about h.e.l.l like he was some kind of paid tour guide, and I took my first real look at the place.

Only three weeks before, I'd been in Los Angeles for the weekend visiting a friend from college. Since it was my first trip to the city, we'd done the usual tourist stuff-Venice Beach, the Third Street Promenade, The Grove, Rodeo Drive, Kitson. (Okay, you might might be sensing a pattern of conspicuous consumption here. I be sensing a pattern of conspicuous consumption here. I was was in L.A.-the West Coast shopping Mecca of the nation-and I in L.A.-the West Coast shopping Mecca of the nation-and I was was allowed to window-shop, wasn't I?) allowed to window-shop, wasn't I?) When my brain was stuffed from too much window-shopping, my friend had suggested we go to a local gallery she was doing a piece on for LA Weekly LA Weekly, and check out the Mark Ryden exhibit they were hosting.

Now, I've always been a fan of the deer-eyed little girls that people his work, but the stuff we saw at the gallery was even creepier than usual. There was kind of a "camping with the folks circa 1950s Americana" quality crossed with an "empty forest, bears are gonna eat you" thing. Even the frames that held the artwork had been created with the same theme in mind. I felt strangely unsettled as I walked among the paintings, my skin crawling with the bugs of unease.

It was this very same feeling that settled around me as I walked the path of the River Styx through the Valley of Death. The forest grew thick around us-full of oak, birch, and tall pine-crowding almost right up to the banks of the river in some places. There didn't seem to be anyone else on our path, but every so often I could hear the crunch of someone-or something-in the shadowy underbrush.

The thin stretch of valley we walked through seemed like the only treeless s.p.a.ce of land for miles around. d.a.m.n, the forest really had a way of making me feel small, like I was just an inconspicuous little ant in the grand scheme of things.

I didn't like that feeling at all.

"So, exactly how big a dog are we talking about here, Jarvi?" I asked after the main part of his travelogue had finally petered out.

Since Jarvis was so much smaller than me-did I say I was five-six in socks and maybe still growing?-he almost had to jog to keep up. He was in such good shape, though, that he didn't even break a sweat. It was totally annoying. I mean, I really tried to make myself go to the gym. I yelled, threatened, cajoled . . . even bribed myself to hit the treadmill, but as I mentioned before, by the time I got home from Hy h.e.l.l every day, I was just too d.a.m.ned emotionally exhausted to do anything but potato out in front of the television.

When I first got to New York, I tried to fit in with my "burn it at both ends" coworkers, but the lifestyle is extremely punis.h.i.+ng, and since I'm such a wuss, I decided early on that I needed to keep to a quasinormal schedule if I was going to survive my first job.

I knew lots of other "office girls" who sucked it up, went out every night, partied like it was 1999-and spent every morning in the bathroom throwing up all the "fun" they were having. I admired their tenacity, but found that it was a way of life that just didn't suit me.

". . . gargantuan."

Apparently the whole time I'd been fixating on Jarvis's musculature, he'd been answering my question.

I really should learn to pay more attention to people when they're talking to me, I thought absentmindedly. I thought absentmindedly.

"I'm sorry. Can you say that again?"

Jarvis gave me a nasty look.

"I said that you are not dealing with some canine mongrel. This is a demon that we are referring to. A very large-dare I say 'gargantuan'-demon with three three heads and heads and three three sets of very large, very sharp teeth." sets of very large, very sharp teeth."

"How am I supposed to steal one of something like that's pups?" I wailed miserably.

"Finally, the girl shows a smidgen of interest in her present situation," Jarvis said under his breath. "If you would like to inquire as to what my advice would be, then I would more than happily tell it to you."

I didn't like what Jarvis was saying at all. Somehow, I knew in my gut that asking Jarvis for his advice was tantamount to telling him he was the new boss of me. I realized that I didn't have a choice. I was going to have to give Jarvis the satisfaction he was fis.h.i.+ng for.

"Okay, you win. Tell me, O great sage on high, what do you recommend I do to soothe the savage beast and steal one of its pups?"

Jarvis was silent for a moment-probably internally rejoicing in the conquest of my will-then he spoke, his words measured.

"Take it for a walk."

"Take it for a walk?" I repeated, incredulous. It was so hot, sweat was already starting to soak through the cute tank Clio had loaned me, and my underwear was sticking to my b.u.t.t like a second skin. How the h.e.l.l was I supposed to convince a demon dog to go for a walk in this sauna?

And with this sound sound advice bouncing around in my head, I headed inexorably toward my "walking" date with the three-headed guardian of h.e.l.l. advice bouncing around in my head, I headed inexorably toward my "walking" date with the three-headed guardian of h.e.l.l.

As we went on, I realized that even though I didn't know it at the time, I had been in preparation for this task for the last six months. Now, you say, how could I have possibly prepared myself for a walk with Cerberus, the three-headed guardian of h.e.l.l, without even knowing it?

Well, I had a secret weapon. As it happens, I am an acolyte of the Dog Whisperer Dog Whisperer show on the National Geographic channel. And if you've never heard of Cesar Millan, then you are seriously uninformed. He's a genius with dogs, show on the National Geographic channel. And if you've never heard of Cesar Millan, then you are seriously uninformed. He's a genius with dogs, and and with the people who own them. Let's just say he can soothe even the most savage pet owner . . . I mean, with the people who own them. Let's just say he can soothe even the most savage pet owner . . . I mean, beast beast. It's, like, total psychological entertainment. It's so great . . . I even watch the repeats. I even watch the repeats.

Now I was going to put Cesar's theories to a big test.

On first glimpse, I noted that Cerberus had two cute heads (I use the word "cute" relatively) and one really nasty, Snarly one. The two cute ones spent their time cleaning and licking the monster's black coat and nether regions while the nasty, Snarly one kept watch with its one large yellow eye-kinda like a big, unblinking lamp stuck in the top of a lighthouse.

I had a clear view of my prey from where Jarvis and I sat crouching behind a big, green bush. Cerberus stood guard a few hundred yards away, blocking the entrance to the towering stone gates that led to the North entrance of h.e.l.l.

Under the Snarly one's watchful gaze, a few of the recently departed trooped down the winding dirt path that led to h.e.l.l and disappeared through the gates. It was only a trickle at the moment, so I figured there hadn't been any major earthquakes or tsunamis in the last few hours. (I found out later that the North Gate was where all the Pagans, Satanists, and Atheists entered h.e.l.l, so that was why there wasn't a stampede.) I wasn't sure if I should consider Cerberus as one dog or as a pack pack. I opted for pack pack, since there was more than one slavering mouth that could bite my head off.

I watched my pack, looking for signs of "calm submission"-I didn't think ball licking counted, and Snarly head was anything but calm, the way he twisted his head all around looking for something to snack on.

"Where are the puppies?" I said under my breath at Jarvis. "I'm pretty sure those are dog b.a.l.l.s between its legs, so how does it have kids?"

Jarvis gritted his teeth, and I swear I could almost see him counting to ten in his head before answering.

"The male of its species watches the young, while the female hunts for food."

Jarvis seemed to know an awful lot about the big, ugly dog. I guess I was lucky that Jarvis was a font of useless-unless you're out to take a giant three-headed h.e.l.lhound for a walk-information.

"Nice," I said, wiping away the sweat that had acc.u.mulated above my lip. "When's Momma coming home?"

Jarvis shrugged.

"What good are are you?" I whined, my eyes drawn back to the ma.s.sive dog in the near distance. It was still sitting back on its haunches, its tail rhythmically thumping against the bottom of the gate. you?" I whined, my eyes drawn back to the ma.s.sive dog in the near distance. It was still sitting back on its haunches, its tail rhythmically thumping against the bottom of the gate.

"All right, here goes nothing," I said, standing up from my crouch and starting forward toward my three-headed task.

"No, wait!" Jarvis grabbed my arm and yanked me back down behind the bush.

"What?!" He'd pulled me back with such force I had ended up on my b.u.t.t, and now the seat of my pants was dirt smeared. "Look what you did to my pants," I wailed. "It looks like I had an accident or something!"

Jarvis ignored my complaints.

"You cannot just go out there without a plan."

"I have a plan," I replied, rolling my eyes. "I'm not an idiot."

Total silence.

"I'm not! Whatever . . ."

I stood back up, wiped my backside to get some of the dirt off, and glared at Jarvis. "I have powers, don't I?"

Jarvis nodded.

"If I want something, all I have to do is ask and the ether will supply, right?"

Jarvis nodded again.

"Good. See, I did have a plan," I said smugly. "Do I have to ask out loud?"

Before Jarvis could answer, there was a quick snapping snapping sound, and suddenly I was lying underneath the coil of a humongous dog harness and leash. Jarvis snickered at me as I tried to extract myself from the bright red halter. sound, and suddenly I was lying underneath the coil of a humongous dog harness and leash. Jarvis snickered at me as I tried to extract myself from the bright red halter.

"I guess that answers that," I answered myself, getting to my feet.

Jarvis wiggled an eyebrow at me, his eyes alight with laughter.

"And how do you plan on getting this this harness on harness on that that dog?" he said, pointing at Cerberus, who was vigorously double-licking his crotch. dog?" he said, pointing at Cerberus, who was vigorously double-licking his crotch.

c.r.a.p, I hadn't thought of that.

"Just watch and see, smarty pants," I replied haughtily, grabbing the top of the halter and dragging it behind me as I left the safety of the bush and trudged toward my prey.

Am I insane? I have no plan, I thought, panicking. I thought, panicking.

"I guess I'll just wing it," I said to myself with a cheer-fulness I did not possess. I hoped Jarvis hadn't heard me muttering to myself. No need for the smug-head to know about my little dilemma.

It took me only a few seconds to cross the divide between the bush and Cerberus.

I'm not doing too badly, I thought to myself. I thought to myself. I'm not even really all that scared . . . well, not really. I'm not even really all that scared . . . well, not really.

Suddenly, I heard a crunch crunch . . . and then time slowed down. I mean, like, . . . and then time slowed down. I mean, like, way way down. down.

In slow motion, I could feel the sharp edge of the rock I'd accidentally stepped on trying to dig through the stiff rubber of my Converse All Stars, while a drop of sweat took what seemed like forever to bead up at the back of my neck and then follow a long, tortuous trail down my back and into my pants.

Cerberus turned its Snarly head, and the giant, jaundiced eye unblinkingly trained itself on my frozen form. The dog's eye narrowed, and I knew without anyone saying anything out loud that I was only one slo-mo minute from getting digested.

The other two heads stopped their obsessive licking and raised themselves in line with Snarly head. They didn't look nearly as mean as Snarly, but as I watched, something much worse began to register in their eyes: excitement. The big h.e.l.lhound's tail started thumping more quickly against the gate.

Uh-oh, I thought to myself, I thought to myself, so much for so much for winging winging it it. I was sure Jarvis was totally freaking out back behind the bush. I guess he was right to think I was an idiot. It was obvious from the mess I'd gotten myself into that his unfavorable impression of me was definitely definitely on the money. on the money.

Then, without warning, Snarly head swooped forward, teeth bared, giant eyeball trained in one direction . . . mine mine. Frozen in shock, I could do nothing but stare as Cerberus, the guardian of the North Gate to h.e.l.l, prepared to make me its lunch.

eleven.

Snarly head stopped two inches from my face, its one jaundiced eyeball staring hard at me. I hadn't moved; I hadn't blinked . . . I hadn't even really breathed. I just stood there, minding my own business, trying to feel feel as nonchalant as I hoped I looked. as nonchalant as I hoped I looked.

You see, the most important thing I'd learned from my Dog Whisperer Dog Whisperer training was that you had to ignore the animal until it was in a calm, submissive state-even if you training was that you had to ignore the animal until it was in a calm, submissive state-even if you were were terrified it was going to make you its lunch. Obviously, Cesar Millan didn't deal with giant, three-headed, human meat-munching monsters, but I figured his teachings would still apply, no matter what size the dog. I just had to ignore the mutt until it decided that terrified it was going to make you its lunch. Obviously, Cesar Millan didn't deal with giant, three-headed, human meat-munching monsters, but I figured his teachings would still apply, no matter what size the dog. I just had to ignore the mutt until it decided that I I was the master of the pack, not him-which I hoped was going to be sooner rather than later because my heart was totally beating in triple time, and I so did not want to have a heart attack while I was visiting h.e.l.l. was the master of the pack, not him-which I hoped was going to be sooner rather than later because my heart was totally beating in triple time, and I so did not want to have a heart attack while I was visiting h.e.l.l.

I'd heard the medical response time there was abysmal.

Anyway, while Snarly head stared, the other two heads quickly moved forward, their great heaving nostrils inhaling my scent like it was ambrosia. Up close, they looked like your average twin black Labs-if you didn't count the razor-sharp teeth. They each had a set of burning yellowish green eyes, black heart-shaped noses, and they both stank like wet dog. One of them even went for a crotch sniff (a typical dog move), but I lifted up my knee, blocking its path-and getting s...o...b..r all over myself in the process. I let the two dumb heads do their sniffing, but I was careful to always keep Snarly head in my peripheral vision. Getting Snarly head to submit to me was the key; the dumb heads would do whatever the smart one wanted. Of that I was (hopefully) pretty sure.

Just as I had suspected, after getting their fill of my scent, the two benign heads fell back, deferring to Snarly head. It was gonna be up to him to make the decision if I was friend or foe. I had my fingers crossed it was gonna be friend, but you just never knew with this kinda stuff-I was wholly prepared to make a quick run for it if things headed south in a hurry.

My fingers grasped hard at the rippled bit of canvas I had tucked inside my palm, making sure I still had a firm grip on the halter I'd called up from the ether. I didn't quite know how I was gonna get the thing on Cerberus, but at least I knew it was there and ready the minute I needed it.

Snarly head continued to stare at me, its one eye an unblinking beacon of bad att.i.tude. It hadn't made up its mind to eat me, I thought, but it didn't seem to want me to give it a belly rub, either. I swallowed hard, willing myself the patience to get through this, my first-and quite possibly last if I couldn't get my c.r.a.p together-task.

As the seconds slowly ticked away, I closed my eyes, saying a silent prayer for Cerberus to decide it was nap time and pa.s.s out right there and then. Realizing that this was just wishful thinking-not something to actually pray over-I opened my eyes again, but found that Snarly head had moved away from me. Its head was still trained in my direction, but its eye was staring off at a completely different angle. Suddenly, it made a weird snuffling sound in the back of its throat, which immediately drew my concern, and then its eye started spinning around in its socket like Linda Blair's head in The Exorcist The Exorcist-or at least like one of those little round roulette b.a.l.l.s in Atlantic City.

"That's weird," I heard myself saying as I stood transfixed by the sight.

Before I could get another word out, the three-headed Guardian of h.e.l.l was suddenly barreling toward me-all three of its giant tongues lolling like bright puce slugs in its mouths as its monstrous bulk came nearer and nearer to my delicate, unprotected human form. I started to scream-the extremely large dry-cleaning bill I was gonna have for getting human-remain stains out of my borrowed togs flas.h.i.+ng before my eyes-but instead of making roadkill out of my wussy a.s.s, Cerberus galloped past me and made a sharp right, knocking me onto my b.u.t.t in its wake.

I went down hard-I swear, I could feel a big purple bruise start forming on my left b.u.t.t check-and as I just sat there, letting my brain reboot after its near pocketbook-destroying experience, all I could think was that I was lucky a bruise on my b.u.t.t was all all I got from my Cerberus experience. I got from my Cerberus experience.

From somewhere behind me, I heard a low growling sound. Cerberus must've found heartier prey-maybe a runaway soul that had decided he didn't want to enter the gates of h.e.l.l after all. after all. Yet, as I listened for the tell-tale signs of someone being torn limb from limb, all I heard was a whole lot of nothing. Then, out of nowhere, I heard a man's voice. Yet, as I listened for the tell-tale signs of someone being torn limb from limb, all I heard was a whole lot of nothing. Then, out of nowhere, I heard a man's voice.

"Good boy, get down now."

The voice was familiar, so familiar in fact that I knew exactly whom it belonged to. Something weird was going on, and I was going to have to pick myself up off the ground and find out what it was.

I stood, brus.h.i.+ng the dirt off my b.u.t.t, and turned around, hands on hips, ready to let my anger rip.

"Stop following me!" I screamed at the top of my lungs as I stared at Daniel, the Devil's protege, frolicking in the dirt with Cerberus, the three-headed Guardian of the North Gate of h.e.l.l. They were doing this whole "rolling around together, mock fighting/boy-dog cavorting" thing that just made me want to spit.

This is so not not fair! fair! I thought miserably as I picked up the halter and started walking toward them. I thought miserably as I picked up the halter and started walking toward them.

"This is my task, you jerk!" I snarled. "So stop trying to show me up!"

Daniel looked up, and my heart lurched.

"I'm sorry," he drawled. "Is this your your task? I didn't know. By all means, be my guest." He gestured for me to get down on my knees in the dirt with him and rub the big three-headed dog's stomach. task? I didn't know. By all means, be my guest." He gestured for me to get down on my knees in the dirt with him and rub the big three-headed dog's stomach.

"You want to calm the savage beast? I recommend a belly rub every time."

I could just imagine what that dog smelled like, and I was not not gonna walk around-for G.o.d knows how long-smelling like wet fur and dog breath. gonna walk around-for G.o.d knows how long-smelling like wet fur and dog breath. But Daniel, on the other hand . . . I'd give But Daniel, on the other hand . . . I'd give that that savage beast a belly rub anytime he wanted. savage beast a belly rub anytime he wanted.

"Screw you!" I grumbled, hating myself for even thinking thinking something like that. I dropped the halter on the ground, wanting to cry- something like that. I dropped the halter on the ground, wanting to cry-no, wanting to rut wildly in the dirt with the Devil's protege!

Ugh! I said to myself. I said to myself. This has got to stop! This has got to stop!