Drunken Irish Sorrows

My surroundings blurred. I landed in Arlington Cemetery, in the Civil War section. The graveyard was empty. I collapsed to the ground. Icy stone froze my cheek. My mouth opened wide, and black smoke spewed from my throat. Samael materialized, splayed on the ground beside me, a skeleton in black robes.

"Where's your skin?" I struggled to say.

He wheezed. "Too weak. Can't hold that form."

I rolled onto my stomach, blood pooling beneath me. "Crap, it hurts."

He crawled over to me. Samael put his hand on my back and choked out demonic words. I felt the bullet rise from my flesh. It exited the wound and fell to the ground. The hole in my back healed.

"Better?" Samael said, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah." I sat up, dazed. "Why the graveyard?"

Samael lay on his back, eye-hollows looking at the stars. "I'm more powerful here." He clutched at his chest. "You're good at dissecting things, right?" he rasped. "There's a bullet, behind my sternum."

I flinched at the thought of touching him.

"Please."

"Okay." I crawled over to him and opened the neck of his robe. His rib cage rose and fell in a semblance of breathing. He smelled like autumn leaves. I flinched, touching his collarbone. "This is so gross."

Samael grunted. "Thanks."

The bullet was lodged beneath his sternum. I pried it loose and tossed it aside. Samael hacked up gore onto the sleeve of my jacket.

"How are you bleeding?" I said. "You don't even have any organs."

Samael sat up slowly, shaking. "You never shut up."

"You're the one that rants. Are you okay?"

"I feel like crap, but I'll be fine. I don't have enough energy to summon a portal back to Hell, and you don't have your petersword."

I reached for the charm at my neck, only to find it gone. "Damn. I left it with the Watchers. Can't you text someone?"

Samael shook his head. "My phone runs on ether, remember? It doesn't get service here."

"Can I text Damien?"

Samael leaned against a gravestone. "No. There's no coverage."

I sat next to him, breath heavy. "Then how can I text you?"

"Your heart is mine. Our life forces are bound. I use that as the network conductor."

"What the actual heck." I looked up at the moon. Gog and Magog flew past.

"Strange how things work, isn't it?"

I toyed with a stick. "That's not scientific at all."

Samael shrugged. "You're the scientist, not me."

"Why are you always so annoying?"

Samael wiped blood from his teeth. "To bring out the best in you. Did you like your present?"

I sighed. "You snuck into my grandparent's house like Krampus. Was that really necessary?"

Samael smiled. "We take peculiar measures for the ones we hold close."

Anger flushed my cheeks. I scooted away from him. "We're not close. You barely know me."

Samael scraped his finger bones along the ground. "It's been five months. Almost half a year." There was longing in his voice. "Of course I know you."

I looked away, uncomfortable. "Can we talk about something else? Like how I'm going to get back?"

Samael tapped on the monument. "You can't leave the graveyard. It's holy ground. The Watcher's hellhounds can't enter it. You'll have to stay here for the night."

I broke the stick in half. "In a graveyard? Isn't crashing at a national cemetery like burning the American flag?"

Samael lowered the hood of his robe. "I'll be strong enough in the morning to take you home. Please. I need you safe."

I shook my head. "I hate graveyards. They creep me out. You creep me out. I'm talking to a corpse, for chrissakes."

Samael frowned. "I'm a skeleton, not rotting. I'm much more sanitary."

"Same thing." I threw the stick pieces into the remnants of Christmas snow. "Ugh, this sucks. I'm freezing, and the only company I have is the Crypt Keeper."

Samael crushed a leaf in his hand. "I look nothing like the Crypt Keeper. Just like you were a crappy Elvira on Halloween. You're not busty enough."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Ho boy, don't even start."

He toyed with the fabric of his robe. "I'm not complaining. All you need's a handful."

"Bastard!" I punched his skull, but only ended up hurting my fist.

"Now your ass. That's your crowning glory." Samael lit a cigarette he'd pulled from his pocket and took a drag.

I rose from the ground, ready to storm off.

Samael didn't take the hint. "It's so round. Like two apples. I could bite it-"

I kicked him in the pelvis, to no avail. "My toes!" I said, hopping on one foot.

Samael laughed. "You're so easy to get a rise out of."

"You think this is funny?"

He hugged his legs to him. "Yes, I do. The adamant may also be clouding my judgment. It's a bit like drinking a bowl of absinthe."

"I hate you."

Samael exhaled smoke in my face. "You didn't seem to when we kissed."

I broiled. "You kissed me. I didn't want it!"

Samael whistled low. "Harsh, maggot."

Gog and Magog responded to his whistle and landed on his collarbone. He stroked Gog's wings. Magog tried to feed him a worm.

"Those are my crows. Stop corrupting them," I said.

"They were mine first." He plucked the worm from Magog's beak and offered it to me. "Hungry? Lots of protein. Very tasty."

"Eat it yourself it it's so good."

Samael coaxed the worm into Gog's mouth. He waved the crows away and rose from the ground. "You liked it when I kissed you. There was a dopamine rush in your brain." He dusted off his robe.

I put my hands on my hips and squared off against Samael. "Are you trying to use biology against me? Because trust me, I'll win."

Samael tucked his hands into his pockets. "There was serotonin too. Infatuation."

I glared into his eye sockets. "What, are you a mind reader now?"

"No, but I can guess."

"Fine. Maybe I like you, sort of. But that pales in comparison to how much you piss me off. Happy now, Satan?"

He grinned. "Yes. Now, will you finally hold my hand?"

I drew back. "No. I'm not touching you. You're disgusting."

"Hold my hand."

"No!"

"Please?"

Irritation constricted my throat. "Will you shut up if I do?"

"I swear on your undug grave."

I cursed and held his hand-bones.

"There. Is that really so bad?"

I grimaced. "Yes, it is." I let go of his hand and wiped my palm off on my skirt. "Ew. Ew ew ew."

He smiled.

"I can't believe I'm stuck here with you until sunrise," I said. "This is going to be so boring."

Samael scratched his chin. "I know several ways we can pass the time."

"Don't you dare say anything sexual. You're a bag of bones."

"I was going to suggest charades. But sexual – sexual I can do. Thought it might be difficult without a tongue."

"I'm going to barf."

"Charades it is."

The hours passed slowly. There was no cell phone reception on my dinosaur of a phone, so I couldn't text my family and tell them I was okay. I worried about the consequences.

"I spy something red," Samael said.

"Is it my hair again?" I asked, bored.

Samael feigned surprise. "How did you know?"

I sighed. "You're really bad at this game."

I yawned, then checked my phone. It was 3 in the morning. "I'm so tired…"

"Then rest," Samael said. "I have enough strength now to lull you to sleep."

"But I'll freeze. Aren't you supposed to stay awake if you're lost and cold? Not that I'm really lost. We're right near the Metro."

Samael slipped out of his robe, which was a sight I so did not need to see. He tossed the garment at me.

I caught it. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Wear it."

"Won't you freeze?"

He shook his head. "I'm fine."

The robe hung on me loosely, but it had an insulating effect. I thumbed the material. It felt like liquid. "What is this made of?" I asked.

"The Abyss."

"That's really weird." I snuggled into the robe. "Can we find a park bench and make like bums so I can sleep?"

Samael chuckled. "Sure."

I woke to Samael poking me.

"The park's about to open. I need my robe back, unless you want to see me commando."

I wiped sleep-grit from my eyes. "Wha?"

"Robe."

"Oh, right."

I eased out of it. Samael put it on and shifted back to his human form.

"Aren't you afraid someone's going to see you looking like a punk monk?" I asked.

Samael stretched, his snakebite piercings lit by the dawn. "Remember? Mortals can't see immortals under normal circumstances. That effect extends to my associates, like you."

Confusion knotted my brain. "Then how could I see the Watchers?"

"Because you're not fully human. When I gave Eve my heart, she became like the seraphim. That allows you to see immortals."

We walked to the park entrance and on to the Metro station. My cell phone finally got reception. I dialed my dad and held my breath.

"Kiddo? Where are you? We were about to go to the police!"

I spun a lie. "I drank something bad, dad. I think someone roofied me."

I could hear his heart stop. "Jesus Christ. Did anything happen? Can you remember anything?"

Guilt cinched my gut. "Yeah, dad, my memory's hazy, but it's there. The person who drugged me must have lost me. All I did was wander around and go to sleep in, um, in an alley. I just woke up. I'm fine. I took a cab to the Metro and I'm about to get on. Can you pick me up after I get to the Vienna stop?"

"No, Shannon. Stay where you are. I'm coming to get you. We're going to a doctor right away for-" he choked back tears, "-for testing. Then we're going to the police."

My marrow froze. "No, dad. Really, I'm fine."

"You're a biology student. You know how dangerous drugs can be. Don't move. I'm driving there now. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"No, like I said, I'm fine. You're really overreacting."

"I'm not overreacting. We thought you were gone. If that happened, I couldn't – I couldn't live with myself. You're my little girl."

"Dad, stop it! You're making me feel horrible."

"I'm sorry. Are you sure you don't want me to stay on the phone?"

"Nope, I'm good. See you soon." I hung up before he could protest.

I looked at Samael and made a cutting motion across my throat. "My head on a platter. That's what's going to happen, all because of those stupid Watchers. Ugh, why couldn't they just leave me alone? What do they want from me?"

Samael's face darkened. "There could be many reasons, none of which are pleasant. Are you alright?"

I smoothed my skirt. "My dad's a wreck, which means my mom is too, and I don't even know how bad Mo feels after losing me at the concert like that."

My father picked me up, in tears, and we went to the emergency room for testing. The doctors didn't find a trace of drugs, even though they made me pee in a cup. My arms were red from blood draws and I grew to hate the smell of waxed linoleum floors. Next was the police station. I couldn't give a clear description of the suspect, and claimed I didn't remember what the drink was, so my family filed a mostly useless report. I dealt with a shaken household for the rest of break and a mirthless New Year's.