Demon Coil - 1. Chapter 1

Arno flicked the lighter and inhaled, the cigarette a point of orange brightness in the otherwise gloomy garage. It was raining outside, oppressive clouds darkening the sky and raindrops falling only to sizzle on the pavement. He leaned a greasy hand against a work surface and took a long drag, staring out through the large, open bay doors. Even in a storm, they couldn’t be closed, or the air would easily reach one hundred degrees inside.

“Those are bad for you,” a voice said, and Arno spun around, his hand dropping so the cigarette was out of sight, even though it was clear that the customer had already seen it. The person in question looked out of place on the other side of the front counter, staring at a display of tires like he had no idea which kind of vehicle they belonged to.

The man, or boy, really, couldn’t have been older than eighteen. He was dressed in an assortment of clothing that Arno was sure people found stylish on the internet, but he just thought it looked confused. Despite the questionable fashion sense, Arno’s attention was caught by the expressive face underneath a contrived mess of green streaked brunet hair. Tan skin, gray eyes, no horns, he mused that the person before him was probably as close to human as they came. He fingered the red horns jutting from the shaved sides of his floppy black mohawk as he considered, not for the first time, that he simply looked like a cliché.

“What can I do for you?” Arno asked, putting on his best salesperson voice and a smile to match the customer’s as he walked towards the front and stubbed the cigarette out against the back side of a display. He didn’t find his customer service act as difficult as he usually did, surprising himself.

The smile he had matched faltered, and hesitation plagued the young man’s face. “I was just,” he paused, looking desperately around the small waiting area. “Never mind,” he said, and turned to leave. Arno took two hasty steps forward, almost grabbing an artfully ripped sleeve before remembering how filthy his hands were.

“It’s cool, okay?” he said, and the guy turned to face him again. “Whatever broke down vehicle you’ve got, I can fix it. Doesn’t matter what it is. I learned from the best.” He pointed at the display that proclaimed affiliation to the most respected trade school in their territory. “I’m Arno,” he added, miming a handshake that would have been ill-advised.

“Sygny,” came the reply, with a mimed handshake in return. He continued to look hesitant, taking the time to step out of Arno’s personal space before he continued. A dimple appeared in one of his cheeks as he scrunched his face in frustration. “Okay, so, my father gave me this hoverbike to get to school, and I think it’s toast. I stalled it out and it fell into a lava puddle.” He threw his hands in the air, trying to encompass the magnitude of the problem.

Arno looked him up and down from his significantly taller position, tucking his thumbs into the belt loops of his cargo pants. He watched for a moment as Sygny’s eyes darted to his bare chest, following the intricate traditional dragon tattoo that snaked over his shoulder. He could see the Adam’s apple bob in Sygny’s throat as he waited for a reply.

“You don’t have any money,” Arno said. It wasn’t a question. Sygny just shook his head. “So, what are you offering?” he asked.

Sygny bit his lip, and Arno waited for the inevitable proposal of sex. He was cute, Arno couldn’t deny that, but he just couldn’t get into the casual intimacy culture that defined the world they lived in. It wouldn’t be the first or the last time that he was propositioned for a repair, but he had never accepted. There were plenty of people who could pay in cash, and Arno was a one-man kind of man. Or, more realistically, a one-man show. No one that interested him had also been interested in monogamy.

During his introspection, Sygny finally found the courage to speak. “Protection magic,” he said, twiddling his fingers in the well-recognized sign for otherworldly shenanigans.

“What?!” Arno couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, derailed from the speech he had been preparing.

“Safeguards for buildings, people, gas tanks…” Sygny said, seemingly becoming more confident. “I can hide something so well it disappears. I graduate from Tomas’ academy next month.”

Arno stared at the small man in front of him, thinking about the amount of power that Sygny must have, as Tomas’ only took the best. “You look human,” he finally said, and winced. Who knew what else the mage in front of him might be capable of besides protection, and stereotyping him into the tiny percentage of the population that remained purely human would only insult him.

Sygny put his hands on his hips, flipping his hair out of his eyes. “I’m not,” was all he said.

“So, what exactly are you offering me?” Arno said, recovering his composure somewhat.

“Well, um, it depends on what you want. And what you think is fair once you see the bike. Technically I’m still a student so…” he trailed off, looking through the front window into the rain.

“Bring it around back, and we’ll talk about it,” Arno said. With the decision made, he walked back into the garage portion of the building to wait for Sygny. The magician’s offer intrigued him, and he wondered what caused the young man to doubt himself. One moment he was confident and snarky, and the next he was unsure. Arno hoped that he could truly offer what he claimed, though he wasn’t sure exactly what services he wanted yet.

The lightweight metallic compound that made up the frame of the hoverbike was, as Sygny had put it, toast. Burnt toast, specifically. Arno was so intrigued by the shape it had managed to twist itself into that it took him a moment before he realized that Sygny did not look like a drowned rat from his outdoor walk.

“You’re not carrying an umbrella,” the mechanic said suspiciously.

“Protection magic?” Sygny replied. He flicked his fingers and, though Arno couldn’t see anything stopping the rain, his dumpster was suddenly no longer being pelted, as if a glass roof domed over it and diverted the rainwater. Sygny made a come-hither motion, and the puddles resumed forming among the trash.

“Hmm,” was all he said, easily lifting the bricked bike and looking beyond the frame. “You protected the engine and the fuel, and yourself I assume, as you’re not charred. Why not the frame?”

“I was kind of falling out of the sky. It can get a little confusing,” Sygny huffed.

“What, three feet, maybe?” Arno joked, his tone lighter than his words. He smiled with warmth. “I have enough scrap bikes laying around to rebuild the frame, you just need to tell me what color it was before you… modified… it. Your father will never know.” On a serious note, Arno looked at Sygny as he said the last part, and he saw the suppressed flinch in his features. He decided not to press the issue. “Anyway, I can put a rush on it. You can pick it up tomorrow afternoon, good as new.”

“It was that standard green color. And payment?” Sygny asked.

“I’ll figure it out by tomorrow. Nothing illegal, nothing unfair. You have my word.”

Sygny met Arno’s eyes, staring for a long minute before he nodded. “Tomorrow, then,” he said. Arno watched as he left through the garage doors, immediately shielding himself from the rain. Handy, he thought, before getting to work.

Later that evening Arno pushed through the front door of the converted warehouse where he lived, instantly greeted by his friends’ overzealous lesser demon pet. The skull-faced, scaly monstrosity had a jeweled forehead and huge horns but was completely tame if he liked you.

“Nasah, down!” Lacuna called, and the lesser demon immediately dropped all his paws to the ground. He turned the corner and was greeted by his lavender-haired roommate. She lounged on the couch in front of the holoscreen, which was playing a pre-demon throwback where all the actors were human.

“Is that even interesting?” Arno asked.

“No. Tali picked it,” Lacuna replied. “She’s making a sandwich.”

Another one of his roommates appeared, as if on cue, stuffing roast beef on rye into her face. He moved out of the way so the spikes on her arm wouldn’t jab him when she sat down. “It’s a drama,” she said, muffled by her late-night snack. “How was work?”

“Interesting. You have any use for protection magic?” he asked, before recounting the afternoon’s events. Though Tali joked it could be used to keep her from blowing up the building (she was a weapon and bomb specialist), neither of them really had any ideas. Arno went to bed soon after, still unsure of what he was going to ask Sygny for the next day.

The morning went by uneventfully, with Arno remaining uncharacteristically clean as he monitored the computer-powered paint job his equipment gave the new bike frame. He worked on a few other projects while he waited for his customer to return, assumingly after school. Arno wondered briefly how he had gotten there without the bike, but decided it wasn’t his business.

Predictably, he was on another smoke break when Sygny came through the front door. The weather was back to the usual haze rather than rain that day, so the magician had no need for his invisible umbrella.

“I told you, that stuff’s bad for you,” was the first thing Sygny said, but Arno didn’t bother to put it out. Instead, he reached out his opposite and clean hand for his customer to actually shake this time.

“Come on back, it’s all done,” Arno said, leading the way into the garage bays. The hoverbike sat against its kickstand, ready to be powered up and lifted from the ground.

“It looks good as new!” Sygny exclaimed, running his hand over it. He peered at it for an extra second, then nodded. “I should have just put a permanent shield on the whole thing in the first place,” he said, explaining his concentration. “I’m sure the work is fine, so what would you like?”

Arno looked at Sygny, sighing. “I don’t know,” he said. Sygny stared at him, his eyes flicking to Arno’s arms, as he was wearing a tight black shirt that hid his chest that day. He smirked, clearly in his element.

“Alright, then. I give you one favor, to be called in at any time in the next year. I’m sure you’d be reasonable. Of course, you’ll need my phone number, so you can contact me when needed…” Sygny trailed off, producing a slim smartphone and tapping it to the one Arno had left on the desk, so the contact information would be shared. “Oh, and you’ll take me on a date, to make up for not deciding, and needing to bother me in the future.”

The grin on Sygny’s face lit up the whole garage when Arno sputtered, unable to respond. Sygny straddled the hoverbike and pressed his thumbprint to the appropriate sensor so that it would start up. It lifted from the ground silently Arno finally managed to regain control of himself. Seeing that he might get a response, Sygny asked, “Sound fair?”

Arno glared. “Fine,” he said, picking up the phone from the table. Contact Request from Sygny Dean displayed on the screen. He clicked accept. “I’ll message you,” he said, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

*****

Lacuna couldn’t help laughing her head off when Arno told her what had happened. She finished the braid she was creating in her long hair before tying it off and pulling out her phone. “So, where are you going to take him?” she asked.

“Hopefully, nowhere,” he grumbled in reply, ignoring the restaurant suggestions she made appear on the holoscreen with a flick of her fingers. If nothing else, Lacuna loved food and would make the best recommendation if he needed it.

“If there’s one thing I know about you, Arno, it’s that you’re a man of your word. You’re going to take him on a date, even if you hate every minute of it. But you won’t, will you?” Lacuna looked at him and fluttered her eyelashes in an exaggerated manner. “I bet he’s cute.”

“You’re awful. He’s a kid, basically!” Arno said.

“Oh, and what a paragon of worldly experience you are, at twenty-four,” she replied, grabbing his phone off the table and sifting through his contacts. “I knew he would be cute,” she said, looking at the contact information displayed there. A few more clicks and she added, “He’s nineteen. No need to feel like you’re robbing cradles.”

“Whatever.”

Tali chose that moment to wander in, wearing a low-cut top and a tight skirt that showed off way more of her voluptuous figure than Arno had ever wanted to see. “We’re going out tonight, you should come. Remember how to talk to a guy before you have to take one out on a whole date. Oh, and if you need fashion advice, don’t ask Lacuna…” she said, shoving a colorful outfit into their roommate’s hands.

Lacuna dropped the offending piece of fashion immediately, pointing to her biker jacket and black jeans. “I’m dressed already.”

“You see what I mean?” Tali asked Arno, shaking her head.

“That’s okay, you girls have fun. Tali, don’t seduce every girl in the building again so they start showing up at the door. Maybe we can get this kid to put a keep away spell on it if you do,” he mused, but waved them away. Lacuna gave him a long-suffering look; he knew that she would have preferred it if she had an extra set of hands to rein in their heartbreaker of a friend. Also, she would have had someone to stand at the bar with her while she refused to dance.

Once the duo was gone Arno flopped onto the couch next to Nasah, staring at the list of restaurants on the screen. Sushi? he thought to himself. It was his favorite, after all. Might as well enjoy the future outing as much as he could. He pulled out his phone but paused before sending a message to his infuriating customer. He didn’t want to seem too eager; he’d text in a few days.