Succubus Lord 9 Page 8

  “I can vouch for that,” Todd said excitedly. “This dude’s portrayal of Sam in Green Eggs and Ham never failed to bring a tear to my eye. Oscar-worthy shit, bro.”

  “So, we go for the plea deal,” Raphael conceded. “But what do I say? I lied through my teeth to one of my oldest comrades.”

  “I’ll tell them you had no idea about any of this,” I promised. “Once they hear that, they should let you go with no questions asked.”

  “Thank you, Jacob,” the Archangel said somberly. “I do have one last question for you, though.”

  “What is it, Raph?”

  “What was it like to kill Azazel?” he said as a smile started at the corner of his mouth. “The two of us have been at each other’s throats for millennia. I wish I could have been there to see you put him out of his misery.”

  “It was fucking awesome,” I assured him. “I sapped all of my succubi’s energy into myself and unleashed a God Bomb on the bastard. Then, when he was down on his knees, giving one of his pompous villain speeches, I cut off his head with the Unhallowed Sword.”

  “Yup,” Todd backed me up. “I saw the whole thing. Now Azazel’s noggin is nailed to a pike on the nearest village’s outer wall.”

  “That sounds delightful,” Raphael chuckled. “If I’m ever allowed to venture down there, I hope you’ll take me to see it.”

  “Of course we will,” I promised the Archangel with a grin. “Hell, I could take some photos of it if you want!”

  All four of us began to laugh, but whether it was from the dark scenario or just pure stress, I didn’t know. Then a knock at the door shut us up quickly.

  “Come in,” Todd called out.

  The door of the outdated conference room opened, and in walked a shorter redheaded woman. She had her orangish-red locks tied back into a ponytail, and her face was covered all over with adorable freckles. The woman was wearing a pair of black leggings, with a plain gray tank top that clung to her body like a wet towel and showed off the erect nipples underneath. Her figure was on the smaller side, but her arms and legs looked completely ripped, and I could clearly see the outline of abs underneath the tank top.

  “Can we help you, dear?” Eligor finally asked.

  The woman looked down at the ground bashfully and kicked her foot back and forth in an “aw shucks” manner.

  “I, uh … ” she stammered. “I just wanted to see if what they said was true.”

  “That depends,” I said in a tone probably way more flirty than it needed to be. “What are they saying?”

  The redhead let out a slight giggle and then looked up at me with her dark brown eyes.

  “They said they had a Demon King in their possession,” she explained. “I’ve never actually met one, or any demon, for that matter, before. So, I just wanted to come by and see, that’s all.”

  “Well, for starters,” I corrected her, “they don’t have me in their possession. I volunteered to come up here so I could clear all the slander that’s been going on against me lately. I beat their men twice down on Earth, and I could do it again easily. The only reason I’m here is because I want to be.”

  The woman pursed her lips and looked at me coyly.

  “So you’re the one who gave Metatron that shiner on his eye, huh?” she asked.

  “Damn straight,” I admitted.

  “He’s trying to cover it up with makeup,” the woman giggled, “but we all know it’s there.”

  “Jacob, I don’t see how this is--” Raph started, but then Todd shushed him.

  “Jakey’s trying to add another notch to the belt,” the imp whispered loud enough that everyone in the room could hear it. “Just be cool and try to be a good wingman, okay?”

  “Uh, sure,” Raph whispered back in a fluster.

  Suddenly, the Archangel’s massive, feathered white wings sprouted from his back and stretched out wide enough to fill the width of the room. He gave Todd an awkward thumbs up, and the imp facepalmed.

  “You guys are a lot more fun than I thought you’d be,” the redhead said with a smile. “I’ve always heard Demon Kings were ruthless warlords who wanted nothing more than to put my head in a blender and eat my brains in their morning protein shake.”

  “Yuk,” Todd gagged. “Protein shakes. Who the fuck even drinks those?”

  “I do,” the woman answered with a shrug. “You can’t start your day promptly at six a.m. without a good ‘ol fashioned protein shake.”

  Todd slithered over to my position and leaned in close to my ear.

  “Jakey,” he whispered. “As your legal counsel, I’m gonna have to advise you to pass on this one. When the fuck was the last time either of us even saw six a.m.?”

  “Thanks for the advice,” I answered with an eye roll, “but I think I’m gonna abstain.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, who are you?” Eligor spoke up from the other side of the table. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

  “Oh, probably not,” the redhead admitted. “I’m just a lowly blacksmith in the Divine Army. I spend most of my days hammering away at pieces of enchanted armor and weaponry, and when I’m not doing that I’m usually going for a jog or a swim or hitting the gym.”

  “The red flags are allllll over the place, bro,” Todd warned once again, but I completely ignored him.

  “The name is Ariel,” she finally announced.

  “Jacob Ralston,” I said with a nod. “Technically, ‘King Ralston,’ but everyone I give a shit about just calls me Jacob.”

  Ariel’s face turned red, and she looked down bashfully.

  “Am I somebody you give a shit about?” she cooed.

  “I dunno,” I admitted, “you definitely could be.”

  “That would be nice,” she giggled. “Um, so, I hear you’re going to be on trial?”

  “Unfortunately,” I sighed. “But with any luck, it should all be wrapped up by the end of the day.”

  “I hope so,” Ariel said with a nod. “Well, ‘King Ralston,’ if you’d like to come and find me when all is said and done, I generally hang out in this building’s exercise room down on the first floor.”

  “I’ll do that,” I promised with a wink. “Nice to meet you, Ariel.”

  The redhead gave us a little wave, and then she opened the door and slunk out of the room.

  “She was cute,” Eligor purred. “Definitely got some pep to her.”

  “A little too much, if you ask me,” Todd interjected. “What kind of psychopath wakes up at six a.m. every day?”

  “Literally ninety percent of the working world,” I answered. “You should try it sometime.”

  “Nah,” the imp said as he waved his hand dismissively. “I think I’ll stick to waking up at noon sharp, bro.”

  “How did I do as a ‘wingman?’” Raphael asked, completely oblivious.

  “Ya did good, Raphey,” Todd lied. “But I might need to work with you on the art of subtlety.”

  There was another knock at the door, but this time it was much more heavy-handed.

  “Are we ready to go?” Metatron’s voice asked from the other side of the wall. “Or do you need more time with your clients?”

  “We’re all good in here, bro,” Todd called out.

  The four of us stood up, took a few deep breaths, and then headed toward the door.

  “Hey Todd?” I asked the imp. “Can you promise me you won’t use too many lawyer movie references? This is kind of a major deal.”

  “I’m not ready to make promises I know I can’t keep, bro,” Todd admitted. “But I’ll try. Oh shit, I forgot the finishing touches!”

  The imp stopped in his tracks, closed his eyes, and then his skin began to bubble. Instantly, his bare torso morphed so that it was covered with a small black blazer with a red dress shirt and black tie underneath.

  “Looking snazzy,” I joked as Todd slicked back the nest of blond hair on his head.

  “You can’t go into the courtroom looking like a bum, bro,” he ex
plained. “At least, not when you’re the lawyer.”

  I reached up, grabbed the handle on the door, and then pulled it open.

  The Exalted One V. Jacob Ralston was just about to begin.

  Chapter 6

  Raphael, Eligor, Todd, and I walked out into the hallway and were instantly greeted by a large mob of people. Cameras flashed in our faces, and incomprehensible questions were shouted as Metatron and a pair of white-uniformed SWAT officers led us through the throng of people. The cluster of bodies parted like the Red Sea as we moved through, but then they began to follow us down the hallway.

  “Everybody stay back!” one of the guards announced. “You know the rules, you’ll get your chance for interviews after the trial’s over.”

  “Who the fuck are those guys?” I asked as we followed the Archangel.

  “Reporters,” Metatron sighed. “We tried to keep this whole ordeal under wraps, but when you didn’t show up for your original trial date, people started to talk.”

  “Why does Heaven even need reporters?” Todd pondered aloud. “Aren’t you guys all impotent for the most part?”

  “I think you mean ‘omniscient,’” Raphael whispered.

  “Oh, riiiiggght,” the imp said as he smacked himself on the head. “Immunodeficient. My bad.”

  “You’d be surprised at all the things we have up here,” Metatron explained. “Often, when humans die, they want to spend eternity doing the same things they did when they were alive. It’s quite strange to someone like myself, but I suppose old habits die hard. Believe it or not, Heaven is not just a bunch of people sitting on clouds playing the harp.”

  “Thank God,” the imp whistled. “That sounds like torture.”

  “It is, actually,” the blond Archangel continued. “If you four are found guilty, the Exalted One will have you put away on a large cloud over one of the oceans of Earth Realm with a harp that plays eternally.”

  “Jesus H … ” the imp muttered, and then he turned to me with his eyes wide. “We gotta win this one, bro. If we don’t, we need to form some sort of suicide pact, because I’m not spending eternity listening to a fucking harp.”

  “That’s what you’re here for,” I reminded Todd as we wound our way through the hallways of the office building.

  We continued on with the reporters at our back for a few minutes, and the decor around us began to change as we walked. We soon found ourselves surrounded by pasty white walls with a dark wooden trim that ran halfway up the side. Every now and again there was a logo that read “Department of Divine Justice” in bold letters. Just beneath the writing was the image of a dove holding a “Jesus Fish” symbol in its mouth, with a weight scale behind it.

  “So, I gotta ask,” I blurted out as we continued to walk through the hallways, “is the Exalted One himself going to be our judge? He is the one who summoned us, after all.”

  Meatron stopped in his tracks, turned around to face me, and then burst out laughing.

  “Did you really think the Exalted One was going to come out to the ‘Cabo’ section of Heaven?” he guffawed. “This is just one of the smaller courts, Jacob Ralston. The master of all things only appears when the case is very, very grave. And even then, those cases are heard in the Hall of Justice, not here.”

  “This place is too much,” Todd giggled.

  We pressed on as a group for another five minutes or so, and then we came to a set of massive double doors engraved with the Department’s logo.

  “Now, be on your best behavior,” the Archangel warned. “They take their legal cases very serious here in Heaven.”

  Without further ado, Metatron opened up the door and motioned for us to walk inside.

  My jaw nearly hit the floor as we entered the massive chamber. I’d been inside courtrooms down on Earth, but this one made them all pale in comparison. The ceiling of the room stretched all the way up the four stories of the building and came to a head with a large rotunda.

  Inside the rotunda was a beautiful painting that seemed to depict the biblical account of Joseph confronting his brothers. The entire thing was done in a Renaissance style, with the hyper-realistic human figures and muted colors abound. Yet, something felt off about it. Perhaps it was the fact most Renaissance painters never painted a scene from Ancient Egypt, or maybe it was just because it wasn’t one of the images I’d seen in my history textbooks a million times over. Either way, it was hypnotizing to look at.

  I finally pried my eyes away from the painting and examined the rest of the room. Up at the front was a large, white marble bench with the Department’s logo etched into its front. Immediately to the right of the judge’s bench was the witness stand, made out of the same marble material. All the way against the wall of the room sat a large, lifted square area, filled with people who I assumed to be the jury. Two stone tables were attached to the ground in the center of the room, each one with a hook for handcuffs and a small podium to place notes or documents.

  Most curious of all, however, were the bronze horns that sat in front of each installation. Those couldn’t possibly be the substitute for microphones, could they?

  All the way at the back of the white marble room, there was row after row of audience seating. As we passed between the aisles of the soft leather seats, I observed we were going to be performing in front of a full house of angels and Shades.

  Todd, Raph, and I were led to the large marble table, where we stood patiently as we awaited the proceedings.

  Eligor, as the ‘star witness,’ had to stay in the front row of the audience until she was called upon.

  “Hold on … ” I whispered to my friends. “If we’re the defendants, then who’s the prosecutor?”

  “That would be me, my friends,” Metatron chuckled as he left us and walked over to the second table.

  The Archangel undid his robe and slid it off his shoulders to reveal a pure white suit underneath, complete with a white dress shirt and a gold tie. He placed his robe delicately on the back of his chair, adjusted his suit, and then stood there in waiting.

  “I totally didn’t see that one coming, bro,” Todd sighed.

  “Ah, we’ll be fine,” I joked. “I’m sure that ass-kicking we gave him back in Colorado will have absolutely no repercussions in this trial.”

  “Ass-kicking?” Raphael gulped. “Metatron was the one you beat up when you returned?”

  “Relax, Raph,” I promised the Archangel. “I’ve got a plan.”

  “Oh thank God,” Todd sighed. “Because I was totally just gonna wing it, bro.”

  “You were going to what?” I hissed back at the imp.

  Before he could respond, a man with a trumpet walked out of the back room. He blew into his instrument to get our attention, and then he stood stiff as a rock.

  Just behind him, another man entered the room wearing a flowing white judge’s robe and an old-timey judge’s wig. His face looked like it was powdered beyond belief, and he wore a stern, uncaring expression.

  “All rise!” the man with the trumpet announced, and the entire courtroom stood up. “The Court of the Cabo District is now in session. Judge Elijah will be presiding. You may be seated.”

  “Thank you,” Judge Elijah announced as he sat down behind the podium. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, good afternoon. Calling the case of the Exalted One vs. Jacob Ralston and the Archangel Raphael. Is everyone ready to proceed?”

  “The prosecution is ready, your honor,” Metatron announced.

  “Uh, yeah,” Todd said as he adjusted his miniature tie. “We’re all good to go over here too, your excellency.”

  The next few minutes were spent by having everyone in the courtroom sworn in on a copy of the Bible that looked like it was thousands of years old. First it was the jury, then Metatron, and then us.

  Being a Demon King, I was halfway worried I was going to light on fire the second I touched the thing. Thankfully, my concerns were unfounded.

  Once everyone had been sworn in, the judge cleared his thr
oat loudly.

  “We shall begin with the opening statements,” Judge Elijah announced. “Would the prosecution like to go first?”

  “Actually, your honor,” Metatron explained, “the prosecution would like to defer.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” I whispered to my friends. “What’s this guy trying to pull?”

  “I dunno, Jakey,” Todd admitted, “but your plan is foolproof. We’ll just stick to that.”

  “Granted,” Judge Elijah announced with a nod. “The defense will make their opening statement first.”

  Todd hoisted himself up onto the table, fastened the top button on his blazer, and then rubbed the creases out of his jacket.

  “Your honor,” he began, “ladies and gentlemen of the jury … I’m just gonna be real with you here, okay? Raphael is completely innocent, no “ifs,” “ands,” or “buts.” I can prove he had nothing to do with anything that’s transpired in the last few months and that his hands are totally clean, so he is pleading ‘not guilty.’As far as my other client, Jakey, goes? ‘Not guilty,’ as well. We’ll let the evidence speak for itself, because it’s gonna mindfuck you so hard you’ll drop all charges like a supermodel drops her panties when standing in my presence. Jacob Ralston isn’t the evil, diabolical dude you all seem to think he is, and I can prove it. I’m not sure what exactly you think he’s done, but he’s still the coolest, baddest bro this side of the interdimensional portal. Thank you.”

  Judge Elijah was leaning in to hear, and then he shook his head.

  “Would the defense repeat that?” he asked in a huff. “Perhaps into the microphone?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Todd chuckled.

  The imp leaned into the brass horn at the corner of the table and repeated his speech. Once he was done, he gave the judge and jury another “thank you,” and then he stepped back and sat down.

  “Thank you.” Judge Elijah nodded and then turned to Metatron. “Now, the prosecution.”

  Metatron looked smug as ever as he stood up and walked out onto the floor of the courtroom. Just for good measure, the Archangel slicked back his blond hair and paused for dramatic effect.