The motel room was purchased with the credit of a man who probably still didn’t know his wallet was gone. Samuel wasn’t sure how much the room cost. If he heard what the babbling old clerk said, he couldn’t remember.  At the moment his immediate needs were all he cared about. The dank and dark room provided temporary shelter. The leftover chicken and applesauce were a godsend but he needed more. Most of the bullet wounds were still open and oozing substances he didn’t want to try to identify.

He’d spent the last thirty minutes face down over the toilet expelling whatever the Coroner had filled his stomach with. He thanked his lucky stars the Colt was able to repair his shredded gut first, or God only knew what he would’ve thrown up.

 Exhausted, he lay naked on the bed, being mindful to stay on his side; his back was much too painful to fool with.  Samuel searched his fragmented memory for answers. The last thing he remembered before waking up on a cold examining table were glowing shoes. He knew the rest of his memory would return in time, if he had enough of it to repair his battered body before duty called. He looked at the shiny gun on the table next to him. At least you look to be in one piece.

“I feel like three day old shit.” The Colt as usual didn’t answer. “How did I get you back, and more importantly, why am I not roasting in Azazel’s pit right now?”

“Because the Lord spared you.”

Faster than the blink of an eye the Hunter and the Colt became one. Even in the darkened room his aim focused in on the source of the voice. A flicker of moment almost too fast for the eye to notice shifted from right to left and the arm of the Hunter followed it.

“Don’t shoot, Samuel.”

A burst of pure white light lit up the room and temporarily blinded the Hunter. But before his vision failed the Hunter swore he saw large white wings on an unnaturally beautiful naked woman.

Tears streamed from his eyes as he laid the Colt down and fought to clear his vision. The Colt vibrated madly upon the bed. Whatever was in the room with them, the Colt was not happy about being laid down.

As the light faded, Samuel’s eyes cleared. Sitting on the sofa across from him was a young woman dressed in blue jeans and a Hello Kitty T-shirt. Samuel could not tell if she was white, Asian, or any combination of ethnicities. What he did notice was that she was the young lady he saw at the gas station.

Instantly his memory returned. He saw the shootout, the police, the kid and a smiling woman standing behind the cops.

The Hunter’s arm extended and the Colt appeared to glide along the bed towards his open hand.

The movement was not lost on the young woman.

“You don’t need that nasty gun, Samuel,” her voice was soft, seductive and seemed to come from within his head.

“No, I don’t need…” The Hunter hesitated. Something wasn’t right. He always needed the Colt and the Colt needed him. He could feel it vibrating on the bed, calling to him, but his body was so weak. If only he had more time. He needed the Colt and the gun needed souls. “No!”

The Colt leapt into his outstretched hand and instantly his clouded mind cleared. Though he could feel the Colt urge him to aim at the woman he held fast.

“Impressive!” A smile graced the woman’s face. “Most impressive, you are… a very unusual servant of Lucifer.”

“I don’t serve the Dark Lord,” the Hunter answered, and then thought, well… not directly. He slowly rose from the bed, with the Colt point at the floor. If there was a battle to be had, he would have it on his feet, though he wasn’t sure how long he could stand or if he could win. His mind went back to the vision of what he could only describe as angelic, and then he looked at the unassuming woman watching him. “What are you?”

His question was answered by silence and the girl’s dark eyes tracing his body. Why is she staring at me like I’m… Samuel instantly remembered he was naked.

“Like I said before; you are most impressive.” If she expected shame or embarrassment from Samuel she got neither. When you were born into slavery, being nude is meaningless. The expression on his face never wavered.

“Who or what are you? You’re not a woman, at least not a natural one.” Samuel considered intimidating the woman by walking towards her, but the very real possibility of falling on his face stopped him.

“My name is Jessie, and you needn’t fear me, Samuel.” She stood up and walked towards him. “I came to help you and possibly receive your help.”

The Colt began to vibrate in his hand. Samuel could feel its desire. Whatever the woman wanted the Colt didn’t care. She had a soul the Colt was hungry for.

Samuel ignored the Colt and focused on the woman. He was careful not to listen too closely to her voice. Whatever she was, she had the ability to sway the mind.

“Start making sense before I satisfy my little friend’s desire.” Jessie looked down. “And I think you know which little friend I mean.”

“Yes, I know your demon weapon hates me.” She walked back to the sofa and kicked off her heels. “Like I told it last night, I’m trying to help now.”

“Now?” Samuel tightened his grip on the Colt. “You called the cops. You set me up!”

“Hold on!” Jessie raised her open palms before her. “In fairness, you do work for Satan, and you are carrying a baby demon around.”

I’m too tired for this crap. Samuel’s legs were weak. He sat back down on the bed. He desperately wanted sleep and wondered if just shooting the woman was easier than kicking her out. Angel or not she never gave a straight answer. Samuel closed his eyes and lowered his head. His back was aching and his stomach was grumbling. He knew the Colt could heal him, but it would take food for him and souls for the Colt, and at the moment he was fresh out of both.

“I really did come to help you, Samuel.”

“Unless you’re about to order pizza, and a six pack of souls I don’t see how.”

“That’s the evil way to heal the flesh, Samuel. There are… other ways.”

Samuel felt warm, soft fingers lift his chin. He opened his eyes to splendor. Somehow, Jessie had shed all her clothes and approached him unheard. She stood before him, the picture of Eve herself. She was perfect from her soft pink lips, to her full round breasts, all the way down to her smooth hairless sex. Samuel felt his breath quicken and his heart race. The sudden rush of lust made his head spin. The Colt began vibrating wildly.

“I don’t… I don’t think this is good idea,” The Hunter stammered.

“Your other, not so little, friend disagrees.” Jessie lightly took his right hand by the wrist and guided it and the Colt to the floor. “You won’t need that gun tonight.”

The woman straddled the Hunter. Her lips brushed against his face peppering it with butterfly kisses. A wild scent of jasmine and cherries swirled around her. Jessie lowered herself onto him. From the moment The Hunter entered her, rivers of heat penetrated his member and raced up his spine. Parts of his conscious mind threatened to shut down in protest. Pleasure the likes of which no man has a right to experience flooded his being.  He screamed out in ecstasy as she glided over him in perfect harmony with his heart beat. He cried out in pain as the bullets lodged in his back expelled themselves from his body, as if nothing so foul could stand to be in her presence.

The intensity of their passion brought him close to unconsciousness.

“Stay with me, Sam. Oh God! Stay with me,” she cried, squeezing him with a strength that defied her petite form.

Somewhere between their third and sixth orgasm his tear soaked eyes caught glimpses of large white wings extending from Jessie and enfolding them both. In the shadows of her wings she sang to him.

Come away with me in the night.
Hold my hand as our souls take flight
And I will show you Love.
Love, love, love.
Sleep, Samuel. Rest my brave Hunter.
 For tomorrow in His name we will fight.
 
Feeling more satisfied than he had known in his life, Samuel slept. His only wish, was that he would not dream.

But even in the arms of an angel some wishes can't come true.