High Stakes

King of the Mountain (Noah)

One.

Two.

Three.

And the world sped up again. I used the force of my back to spring to my feet, just as he tossed me the fucking gun. I caught it like it was an extension of my own hand, firing at the two people to our left, right, then the one fucker behind him with throwing stars. Madrick had just turned to face him as the bullet I'd fired flew through our enemy's skull, causing the backsplash of blood to coat over him–shame it was vampire blood, or it would've made a nice dessert.

Madrick stood there, half-dressed, with his white angelic wings folded back. He was nearly as dirty as I was.

Both of us were breathing hard as we turned our guns on each other.

"You're out," I told him. "You also wouldn't shoot me."

His golden eyes glistened as he stared me off and lowered his gun. "Fuck," was all he said at first. He was still breathy as he stared at me, clearly feeling the exhaustion of teleporting so much–or perhaps so far. I looked around, wondering where the fuck we were. My gaze returned to his as he added, "How'd you know I was out?"

"I told you, I can multitask," I replied, also lowering my gun, though I kept it steady in my grip as I approached him. Neither of us blinked as we stared at each other. Then, I flipped the pistol in my hand and smacked him across the face with its handle.

He grunted as his head jerked in the direction of my blow; breathing steady out his nose, he slowly turned back in my direction.

"This is your fault," I told him. "If you were any good at your damn job, this wouldn't have happened. None of this would've–"

"If you were any," he started to say, then wisely bit his tongue.

"What was that?" I asked. I knew what he was about to say, and I dared him to finish that fucking sentence. It was his job to train me, so if I was wrong or made incorrectly...if I was imperfect or fucked up in some way, that was on him. This was all on him. And he fucking knew it.

"Nothing," he said.

"Yeah, you're damn right nothing," I said. "So this is how this is going to go–you're going to teleport these bodies somewhere disposable to hide the evidence. Then, you're going to teleport us to a safe house in the human realm. Somewhere crackhouse-like–and you better hope your pretty angel ass that it's actually a fucking crack house."

Madrick returned a flat look.

"If your dumbassary cost us all those drugs, I'm gonna kill your precious Chad."

"What–why.... What did he do?"

"You're useful for four things," I told him. "Telling the future," I counted the things off on my fingers, "a cosmic Taxi service, being my drug dealer, and sucking dick. Three of those four things just became unless–so either correct some or do the last one right. And if you think I'm being mean, call Bryce and have a fucking cry about it."

"Bryan," he said.

I shot him what might've been the most filthy look known to man.

"Or Bryce," Madrick muttered. "You know, whatever works.... You're the demi-God."

– † –

Madrick had done what I'd asked him to–disposing of the bodies and teleporting us to a safe house in the human realm, though he passed out nearly instantly from the exhaust of over-teleporting. Even angels like him needed time to recharge and recover. I stared at the tanned skin of his bare back, which still had my light nail marks scarred into his flesh–a reminder of the time we'd shared together before everything went to shit. I didn't know why I was so surprised. It was routine for us...brief moments of drug-filled euphoria, jaw-dropping sex, then...the fall.