Once away from the street, the first thing Jeff noticed was the scent of food. He could almost identify what was cooking, but the sheer number of scents filling the air, combining and mingling, was too overwhelming. Deep breath, followed quickly by another and Jeff followed his nose to the outdoor cafeteria.
The first brightly colored booth, striking with its brick red and bold blue stripes, boasted a red and white banner proclaiming them the best Chinese food in the area. The next booth, clashing horribly with its neighbor, glittered orange in the morning light. Slowly Jeff circled the small square until he’d seen every food booth there. Smiling slightly, he stopped at one that sold home made French fries and fresh squeezed strawberry lemonade. A few minutes later, he carried his bounty to the tables lining the middle of the square.
Plopping into the first empty chair, Jeff dug into his food, a huge goofy grin splitting his face.
* * *
Jasmine crept closer to the exposed back of the booth. This one was almost completely enclosed. One large, white tarp was fastened to the front top edge. It made up the roof and draped down the back. Another was tossed across the top to hang down the sides. The whole thing was tied down; Jasmine could see the cinder blocks peeking under the bottom of the tarps.
Slowly, she inched forward until she could just see around the edge of the booth. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. That was not what she expected.
Shelves lined the walls, floor to ceiling, and every inch was covered with a puppet. She saw hand puppets leaning against plastic stands and miniature mannequins in almost every conceivable pose. The ceiling was a mishmash of hooks and strings holding up marinates.
Trying to make herself as small as a little cat can, Jasmine snuck through the front and started to wander around the shelves. Gazing in awe at the detail, she meandered between displays; sometimes craning her neck to see the high displays and sometimes crouching to look at those below eye-level.
She rounded a corner and came face to face with another Fury. She jumped back and arched her back, hissing with all her fury. No one else was supposed to be here. It was beyond intolerable to be on a working Fury’s turf. She jumped sideways and stalked toward the other. She’d gotten into striking range before she noticed the other hadn’t moved, not even to blink.
Letting her fur slick back down, she swallowed her rumble and minced forward. Stretching out her neck, she touched the other with her nose. All she could smell was furniture polish and shaved wood.
Snickering, Jasmine sat down and stared at the doll hanging from a hook screwed into the shelf’s roof. It’s amazingly life-like. Between the blonde hair and the blue eyes, I thought it was Cassy. It even has a “Cassy-esk” outfit. She’s the only one I can think of that would be caught dead in a pink, frilly tutu. I bet if the doll could stand up, the skirt would stick out as far as its arm. Snickering again, Jasmine continued on, checking out the other dolls on the shelf.
By the end of the shelf, her snickers had disappeared and alarm was rapidly filling her. Beside the doll that looked like Cassy, there was a blue-skinned Efrit, a red-skinned Retrieval and a black-skinned Bezel.
Retreating to the floor, she glanced back up at the shelving unit only to see three more shelves filled with demon-like puppets. She was beginning to think that the doll of Cassy might really be the other Fury. Before she could take this news home, she had to do two things. First, she had to know for sure if the dolls were the devils and demons she’d grownup with and two, she had to finish her assignment.
Tapping the Alexandrite gem on her color, she watched with growing dismay as each and every demon doll started to glow red, as if backlit by the fires of hell. The doll displayed in isolated glory on the top of the shelving unit, glowed the brightest, but Jasmine dismissed this as a trick of the glass case surrounding it. She studied the glow from each doll, but something was off. She glanced at the Fury doll and compared the doll’s glow to her own power level. Even taking into account the fact that she was a better – translated: more powerful – Fury, there wasn’t enough magic surrounding each doll to be the actual demon. Could this be something like a tourist’s idea of Voodoo? Are the dolls the actual demons or are they just a remote control? Does it really matter? Maybe the owner just likes demon dolls. Do I really have the time or the inclination to deal with this? Is it my problem? Wait, what if…
Thinking there was a slight possibility that the culprit and her assignment were one and the same, she snarled silently as she rose to her feet. Stiff-legged, she stalked to the back of the booth, intending to confront this so called Puppet Master.
“What do have we here?”
The loud voice sent chills racing along her spine, but the hands that closed around her middle scared her more. She was sure she’d just landed in the hands of her enemy. She squealed with alarm and started squirming.
“Aren’t you just full of piss and vinegar? Oh, you’re a fighter. I like that.”
The words were doing nothing to calm her. And now she could feel a dark, evil magic beginning to beat at her. Her magic wasn’t the nicest tool in the toolshed, but compared to this, she might as well be fighting with flowers. Frantically, she punched at the Garnet and the Ruby, hoping one or the other could make a dent in the evil cloud.
“Calm down, kitty. I’m not going to hurt you. Ow…” The last slipped out on a howl as Jasmine turned enough to sink her fangs into the flesh between his thumb and first finger.
Wiggling out of the hands, she shot across the floor and slipped behind a shelf. Shivering, she huddled against a clown as she waited for the hand’s owner to be distracted so she could make her escape. This assignment was going to be too much to do alone.
* * *
Jeff pushed his plate to the center of the table and leaned back with a belch. Now’s a good time to have some fun. I wonder, how many can I annoy? Grinning at the dismayed looks being shot toward him, he slid his chair back and rose. Deliberately leaving his dirty dishes on the table, he turned his back and started to push his way through the crowd. Ignoring the loud voices rising behind him – as if he cared that the rest of the crowd thought he was a disgusting pig- he made his way back to the street. He’d just stepped off the concrete sidewalk when a commotion rose from the other side. Thinking it was something he was doing, or about to do, his grin spread and he darted toward the yellow lines painted down the middle of the black top.
He reached the little island in the middle of the road and looked around. No one was pointing at him and gasping. No one was even glancing in his direction. Confused and a little upset, he stuck his lip out in a classic pout and crossed the other half of the street without causing an incident.
One, two, three steps and then..? Jeff glanced at his booth and seeing that the imps had it under control decided to go see what all the commotion was about. Threading through the crowd was oddly reminiscent of his treks through his high school, he decided as he made his way to the booth that was attracting all the attention.
The booth was set up differently than all its neighbors. It had a roof made of tarps and it was almost completely enclosed. What he could see of the inside seemed to be lined with shelves. Lots of shelves. And every inch was occupied with a doll. Some had strings and some had no feet, but Jeff thought they were kind of creepy. Except for the red skinned Demon doll near the door.
He pushed through all the gawkers and reached the front of the booth just in time to see a man kneel down in front of one of the displays. He seemed to be reaching for something either fallen or hiding behind it.
Oh, it seems to be a cat. It wasn’t until he saw the flash of a white paw and the glint of blue eyes that he thought of Jasmine. Biting back a curse, he leaned over, trying to see the cat better. He saw the blue eyes widen and groaned. It was the Fury.
He turned his attention back to the man. “Excuse me.”
A loud bang and a bit off exclamation and the man rose. Rubbing his head where a bump was starting to form, he
turned. “Yes?”
“Have you seen my cat?” Jeff let the last word drift off and pretended to scan the room. “I thought I saw her run in here.”
“Your cat? Yes, she’s behind the case.” He beckoned Jeff over to the display and pointed out the cat. “You should put a leash on her. She’s pretty enough someone might just snatch her up.”
“I usually do,” Jeff replied. He suppressed a shiver as he felt the black magic radiating off the man. He crouched down and held his arms out to Jasmine. “The hook on it broke and she spooked.” He gathered the shivering Fury in his arms and rose, determined to leave. “Thank you for finding her.”
Jeff headed for the exit. His back tensed and his limbs stiff, he expected the man or his magic to stop them. He had an uneasy feeling that the man knew what Jeff and Jasmine were.
Reaching the sunlight, Jeff heaved a sigh of relief and hustled off into the crowd.
* * *
“What were you thinking, Fury Girl?” Jeff dropped Jasmine at the entrance to his booth before stalking toward the back. One glare was more than enough to clear a path. People couldn’t move fast enough. “That guy is too dangerous for one demon.”
Jasmine followed closely behind; for once she had nothing sarcastic to say. The retrieval demon was right- but there was no way she was going to tell him. “As if I had a choice,” she muttered under her breath.
Jeff pushed through the curtain before continuing, “I can’t believe you were stupid enough to try collecting him in his stronghold.”
Jasmine watched the demon pacing and she was starting to get dizzy. She’d drifted into the back corner, trying to stay out of the demon’s way, while trying very hard to pay as little attention as possible to what he was spouting. Eventually, parts of it sank in and her depression about being rescued lifted, to be replaced with anger. How dare he! Who does he think he is? I am Fury, one of Daddy Dearest’s chosen warriors and he’s only a lower class retrieval demon. Jasmine started to see red. She arched her back and hissed at the retrieval demon, stunning him to silence.
“How dare you,” Jasmine thundered. She paced forward, growing with every step. “You, a low class soul collector, dare to lecture ME on my job!”
Jeff’s eye widened and he shrank into a ball. In his worry he’d forgotten his place. He could only hope that what ever the Fury decided to do to him would appease her. Closing his eyes against her wrath, he huddled into a tight ball hugging his knees against his chest. The fear he’d felt in the Puppet Master’s booth paled in comparison to what he faced now. Absently – and through the ‘Oh Shits!' repeating in his mind – he wondered how much taller she was going to get and if she was going to demon-out.
Jasmine extended her claws. Clenching her fingers closed, she snagged Jeff’s shirt and dragged him up to her eyelevel. “Well?”
Jeff felt like a cartoon character blowing from the giant’s breath. He was almost sure she’d asked him a question, but he couldn’t quite comprehend what it was. “Y-yes?” he quavered, hoping it was correct.
“Good,” Jasmine hissed. Satisfied the demon was properly cowed, she began shrinking. She didn’t like to grow so large normally, but once in a while, she found it useful. Getting back to her normal size was a bother. It itched to resize her skin. She always felt like she’d embraced an ant hill when she was through shrinking. “So glad you agree. Now, time to start planning.” Can’t do it here, too many people. She turned on her heel and started for the exit.
Jeff wasn’t sure what he’d just agreed to, but he had a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t going to like it. Not sure how he should be feeling right now – relief that Jasmine’s temper had blown over and trepidation that he’d volunteered for something unknown were at the top of his list – he uncurled and followed the slowly waving tail through the curtain.
* * *
Jasmine smirked as she looked back at the demon. He’d been prepared to chastise her, but he was the one brought down a rung or two. It was just as well. She knew the demon was up for his bi-annual review and he was getting too uppity. Besides, who would she pick on if he failed his review and was promoted?
Her smirk faded as she emerged on the sidewalk in front of the demon’s booth. She had an assignment, but no clue how she was going to complete it. She felt her heart sink into her feet. What would happen if she didn’t collect the soul?
Visions flashed through her mind: being thrown into the lake of fire, being thrown into the pit of eternal depression, being thrown on the mountain of rotting flesh. One image stood out from all the others: The Black Door. No one knew where it led because no one has ever returned who went through.
Jasmine started shaking. There had to be a way to get through this assignment. She didn’t want to discover where The Black Door went.
“Jasmine,” Jeff snapped, “stop your babbling, girl. You’re still in public.”
Jasmine blinked as the world came back into focus. She glanced from the people passing her on the sidewalk to the demon looming over her. Her last “no” was still echoing off the walls of the buildings. At least no one was looking at her weird. Or worse, pointing at her and screaming, “Talking cat!”
Jeff nudged the Fury with his foot, sending her scooting off the sidewalk. With a hiss and a glare, she took off again. Bobbing and weaving between the market goers, Jeff once again did his best to keep up. He was nearly on her tail when she shifted gear mid-step. Darting sideways, she raced across the busy street and dashed into the nearest alley.
Stopping in the center of the alley, Jasmine sat and curled her tail around her feet. She needed answers and she was almost sure the demon had them. How could she get them without actually asking? After all, Furies don’t ask. “Talk, demon,” she growled when Jeff finally caught up.
Jeff leaned against the building and crossed his arms. He wasn’t going to tell the little spoiled Fury anything- at least not before he caught his breath. She kept dragging him into her messes and he always got the short end of the stick. He glared right back at the unblinking cat until his eyes watered. Her stare was making him nervous. He fidgeted under her relentless gaze.
When he started pacing, Jasmine knew she had him. He was going to spill. Inside she rubbed her hands with glee and tried very hard not to cackle.
“Fine,” Jeff finally exploded. “It was just a standard contract: Power for Soul. There shouldn’t have been anything to it.”
“How long ago was the contract signed?”
“1654.”
“What?! How is he still alive? Standard contracts have a time clause built in.”
“They do now and he’s the reason. It used to be that a demon could grant a contract holder the stuff of their desires one day and then run them over with a carriage the next.”
Jasmine snorted. She didn’t want to take a trip down memory lane with the retrieval demon. “Why wasn’t he wacked?”
“Wacked? Really, Fury Girl? Besides, don’t you think we’ve tried? The first attempt was the run-away horse, followed closely by a carriage. Then fire, flood and plague. Nothing worked. It was almost as if he knew what was coming and avoided it.” Jeff knocked his head against the brick wall; once, twice, three times before he continued. “At first, the demons didn’t think anything of it. They figured they’d let the contract run for a bit and when it was fulfilled, they’d claim him and ‘poof’ problem solved.”
“What changed?”
“The contract never was fulfilled,” Jeff growled.
Jasmine could feel the frustration leaking off the Retrieval Demon. He might have had nothing to do with this contract but he took his job seriously enough that an unfulfilled contract really got under his skin. But still… “What do you mean ‘never fulfilled’?”
“We’ve managed to complete every part of that contract except one. But everyone who has tried has just disappeared.”
“How can a demon just disappear?” Jasmine scoffed. Jeff’s pacing was starting to get on her nerves.
 
; “They don’t come back. He has all the powers we’ve granted him, but he still has his soul. Black as it is…” The last Jeff had grumbled so the Fury ignored it as if she’d never heard it.
“What hasn’t been granted? What was in that contract that was so bad it can’t be finished?”
Jeff mumbled something to the wall.
“What?”
“We couldn’t find him a bride.”
Jasmine was fascinated. She hadn’t known Jeff could turn that color outside of his demon form. How far will it go? she thought as the red crept down his neck. Shaking her head to dislodge the thought, she tried to focus on what he’d said. Did he say bride? As in ‘Holy’ matrimony? What dunderhead added that to the contract?
Jeff sighed and nodded. “Yes, Fury Girl. Bride. His contract states that he would sell his soul in exchange for magic and a bride.”
“So basically, we just have to get some sucker of a girl to say ‘I do’ to him and we can collect?”
“Tried that. We even sent in another Fury.”
An image of her fellow Fury popped into her mind’s eye. Something was gnawing on the back of her mind. “Cassy, by chance?”
Jeff’s eyebrows lowered in confusion. “How did you know that?”
“I saw a doll that looked like her.” Jasmine sucked in a deep breath. A plan was starting to form in her mind. “Does the contract specifically state a ‘Bride’?”
“I think … wait, I have a copy. It’s here somewhere.” The demon started to pat down his pants. He checked the two pockets at his hips and the two at either knee. He was reaching for the ankle pockets before he remembered he always put the important – otherwise forgettable – stuff in his back pockets.
Jasmine tried not to gag at Jeff’s macabre dance. She didn’t know how deep his pockets were, but she was afraid to get close. She might get swallowed up by one. Paper, a yo-yo, broken pieces of pencil, bits of fluff, string, gum – Jasmine shuddered again when she realized it had already been chewed – some kind of slime, a frog, a toy block or two, half a pair of scissors, and a pocket knife later, Jeff pulled a rolled paper out of his pocket and brandished it in a ‘ta-dah’ manner. “Here it is.”