Time Jacker by Aaron Crash (nonfiction book recommendations .TXT) 📕

enough to get me going, but then I spent hours eating her sweet Ijjinaya. It was nice to have a body. But I don’t see why I’m talking to you. I’m a fuck demon. I don’t have to tell you a thing, mystery man.”

And yet, she wasn’t disappearing, and there was a dizzy smile on her face.

Jack called her bluff. “I generated a bunch of Kairos, whatever that is. And you were able to have a body and an orgasm of your own. At least that was what you said. I would imagine you came with Mrs. Mundi just like you came with Wanda.”

Bailey’s smile was dirty. “Evelyn was a horny mommy. She’d been stuck for thirty-six years and even longer if you include her marriage to Mr. Mundi. With all of Evelyn’s lesbian fantasies, there was no way she ever should’ve gotten married. But back then, she didn’t have much of a choice.” Bailey sighed. “Sin was so much more fun back in the day.”

“And how old are you?” he asked.

She smacked his arm. Her fingernails were blood red. “You don’t ask a lady that. Nor how much I weigh. Or things I won’t do in bed. Which is nothing. I’ll do anything. As long as you generate that sweet Ijjinaya, and you do, more than most anyone I’ve ever eaten.”

She liked playing with him.

Well, Jack could play her games as well. He shook his head. “This was a mistake. There’s no way I can ever trust you. And you probably don’t know shit anyway. You’re just a big fucking waste of my time.”

He turned and walked out of the church. He walked into the middle of the street, in front of a car, the bearded driver as motionless as the car.

Bailey came charging out. “What are you doing walking away from me? Who are you to call me a waste of time?” All the sexy smokiness was gone, and she looked as pouty and as temperamental as a shunned teenage girl.

Jack shrugged. “I’m not going to deal with you. If you’re around, there must be other demons, or maybe an angel or two I can talk to. Or maybe a Fug, or a Fugit, or an Interim.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Fugs, Fugits, and the Interim are the same thing.”

Fugits had a soft G while Fugs had the hard G. Rhymed with rugs.

Jack rolled his eyes at her, turned, and walked quickly to his car.

She clacked after him. “Don’t turn your back on me, Jack Masterson. I’m a creature of hell. Do you want to know how old I am? I’m five thousand years old. I spent some of that in hell, of course, torturing souls. So you better not fuck with me because I could torture you.”

He about got into his car. But he noticed a squirrel halfway up one of the trees on the street. He went over and touched its fuzzy tail. This was kind of cool.

“Pay attention to me, dammit!” She was huffing mad.

Jack swiveled. “And if I start time now? Do you go bye-bye?”

“No,” she said. “As long as I’m near you at this point, I have the body, but give me a bit, and I’ll be able to go on shopping trips on my own. Like I said, you leak Kairos like a fucking nuclear reactor. While Kairos isn’t my main deal, I still can use it to go all corporeal and shit.” She frowned, brow furrowed. She was the sulkiest demon he’d ever seen. Her cool exterior was gone.

They went back to stand by his car. Jack held up the toy soldier. “You said I didn’t need this?”

She shook her head. “That’s not doing a thing. It’s all you. I don’t know how that works, but there’s no Kairos in that.”

“And what’s Kairos?” he asked.

She scowled. “Temporal energy. One of the seven Septua energies. How can you not fucking know that?”

He turned the soldier’s key to the right, and the cars in the street whipped up their engines and sped away.

“Let’s not talk here,” he said. “Not that I give a shit about people listening because no one is going to believe what I can do. Let’s go to the Big Boy Café. I want Polish sausage.”

“Is that innuendo?” Her smile was devilish.

“No.” He got in and shoved open the door. The sex demon slid in, and he drove off.

In no time, they were in a back booth at the Big Boy Café. While Jack was simply a guy in jeans and boots, Bailey would’ve looked more at home at a midnight cocktail party in New York City. And when the waitress came over, a middle-age, kind woman named Judy, Bailey kicked off her stilettos and flexed her toes. “Fuck, Judy, those shoes hurt my feet. And they make my toes so smelly. Your shoes look very comfortable.”

Judy blushed herself into the color of a freshly picked summer tomato.

“Bailey, come on,” Jack urged.

Judy finally sputtered, “Yes, my shoes are comfortable. I’ll take your order now, Miss Bailey. Hi, Jack.”

“Hey, Judy. I’ll try to keep my friend under control.”

Bailey snorted.

Jack ordered steak and eggs with a Polish sausage on the side. Black coffee. English muffin instead of toast.

Bailey closed the menu and slammed a manicured hand down on top. “Two pots of coffee, Judy. And all of your desserts. All of them.”

Judy gulped. “All of them? All of the pies?”

“Yes, Judy, all the pies, all the cakes. If it’s on the fucking dessert menu, I want it on this table. Don’t go fucking freaking out on me. Just bring me all the desserts. Jack is paying.”

It was probably around seventy-five dollars of desserts.

Well, what else would a sex demon order?

Judy scribbled on her pad and couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

Bailey grinned at Jack. “She has a thing for feet. Did you know out of all the paraphilias that foot fetishes are the most common? She’s rare though. Ninety-nine percent of all paraphilias are men.”

“What are we talking about?”