When Putrid Blood Clot concluded its set with a disturbingly apocalyptic version of Buddy Holly's 'Everyday', the audience burst into a frenzied appreciative ovation. Dara embraced Zag and gave him a heartfelt hug. The band headed back to Zane's table.

Bobo slapped the demon enthusiastically on the back, "That was beyond great, Zag! They fuckin' loved us!"

Jim chimed in, "I haven 't had that much fun in forever."

Zag smiled bashfully, "Me neither, I really like singing."

Dara was curious, "Are you in a band?"

"No, they don't have a lot of musicians where I'm from."

Dara looked confused, "They don't have a lot of musicians in Portland? That doesn't seem right."

Zag thought quickly, "I'm new to Portland, I'm an immigrant."

"Where from?" Bobo asked.

"Helviti, it's near Sweden"

"Cool, it sounds like Hell, perfect for this venue," Jim replied, "and they don't have a lot of musicians?"

"It's a religious thing, they only allow bagpipes and theremin," he glanced at Bobo, "and drums, of course."

Bobo smiled and banged out a flourish on the tabletop, "Weird, but weird is cool."

The owner of the club, Dagmar, walked up to the table.

"Great set! You guys aren't near as awful as I thought. I love your new singer, great look fella."

"Thank you." Zag replied.

Dagmar turned toward Zane, "Your brother is still passed out in my office, please get him out of there before he pukes on my sofa."

"Half-brother. Sure, we'll take him home. Give me a hand, Zag, help me get him to the car."

"Sure," the demon addressed the band members, "thank you all, that was better than cotton candy."

Dara gave Zag a kiss on his cheek, "No, thank you. Anytime you want to jam with us, you got yourself an open invitation," she turned to Zane, "if you accidentally drop Atticus off a cliff on the way home, we will understand and mourn appropriately."

Zane laughed, "That son of a bitch would probably survive and beat the shit out of me. He's already gonna be pissed enough when he finds out someone sang in his place."

"If you call what he does singing," Bobo offered, "Fuck him and his instruments. I'm done with that prick." The other band members nodded in assent.

It took a fair amount of energy to carry Atticus' limp body up to his room and deposit it on his bed. He drooled on his sheets and intermittently mumbled out strings of profanities. Zag and Zane left him there and headed back to the kitchen to relive the night and stuff their faces with candy and cold pizza. Laughter could be heard echoing through the halls of the house till early in the morning when the two new friends finally succumbed to exhaustion and fell into a much needed sleep.

Zag awoke in the early evening and looked at his still sleeping companion. A twinge of sadness bristled through him as he realized that he only had a few hours left on Earth. He only had three choices. He could continue to try and secure Zane's soul, an option he had long since discarded. He could re-enter the circle without the soul and be cast into the deepest pit of Hell for eternity to spend his waking hours torturing the damned alongside the dullest and most boring of hellspawn, his name stricken from the annals of the Infernal Kingdom. Or, he could stay out of the circle and simply dissolve into nothingness when his time was up. He wasn't sure which of the last two choices he would select.

His despondent look turned to a sad smile as he realized he had finally experienced joy. This was what humans were always striving for and now he understood why. The memory of that feeling would sustain him, he was certain, even for eternity.

He wished he had more time. He wanted to sing again and to spend more time with his new friend, but knew he couldn't. Life could be cruel, he decided, crueler than the most experienced of demon torturers.

Zane began to stir and when he awoke, he smiled at Zag, "Wow, I needed that." He saw that his friend was sad and immediately remembered why. "How much time have you got left?"

"About two hours," the demon responded, "but don't sweat it, it was absolutely worth it."

"And there's nothing you can do?"

"Not that I know of."

Zane thought for a second, "Look maybe there is some kind of deal I can cut with you for my soul that has a loophole or something."

Zag smiled, "Thank you for your offer, it means a lot, but I've screwed up so often that they set down the terms themselves. Ironclad. It's not worth it, trust me."

As Zane was about to respond, an angry shout echoed through the house, "Zane! Get your useless ass up here now! Now!"

Zane entered the bedroom with Zag behind him. Atticus was sitting up on his bed drinking a beer. He looked up at the two comrades with a sneer on his face.

"Took you long enough to get here, shit for brains," he cast a scornful look at Zag, "who's the furry?"

"This is Zag."

"Like I really give a fuck. What the hell is this?" he asked, pointing at the magic circle on the floor, "actually, never mind. What the fuck gives you the right to come into my room?"

"That's a fine way to talk to the people who saved your ass tonight. If it were't for Zag here, you wouldn't have gotten paid tonight. He sang for you."

Atticus became furious, "Who said you could do that? I'm the lead singer, me and only me!"

"The band asked him to."

"Those ungrateful pricks. I'll teach those no talent slugs a lesson once and for all. First thing tomorrow I'm ending Putrid Blood Clot. I'm taking back all the instruments and amps and starting a new band," he fumed, "that'll teach those rat bastards."

"Screw you, Atticus, they can get their own instruments from the money they've earned."

Atticus began laughing and pulled up his shirt. Wrapped around his body, over a giant tattoo of a red eye on his chest was a money belt.
"You mean this money? They're not getting one penny. As for you, you sorry motherfucker, I know you've been selling our folk's clothes online," he smiled broadly, revealing his sharpened teeth, "that money is mine, dad left me everything, including the clothes."

"I earned that money!" Zane protested.

Atticus pretended to cry, "Wah, wah, wah, isn't life so unfair. Fuck you, it's mine and I want you out of the house tomorrow." He got up an approached Zane aggressively. Zag stepped in front of him.

"What are you going to do, powderpuff?" Atticus spit out.

Zag stood to his full height, towering over Atticus and let out a low guttural growl. Atticus looked up into his yellow eyes and rethought his strategy. He sat back on the bed.

"Whatever, just be gone before I get up. You are as worthless as all humanity. I don't know how I put up with you this long." He took off his money belt and unzipped one of the compartments. He dug around in it, finally pulling out a small baggy filled with white powder.

"This calls for a celebration."

Zane cautioned his half brother, "I don't think that's a good idea, you passed out twice already in the past day. That shit is dangerous."

"Like I care what you think," he poured several grams onto a mirror by his bed and rolled up one of the bills from his belt, "That's the difference between us, you're a pussy that wants to be friends with everyone and I'm a fucking god that knows everyone is shit!" He snorted the entire quantity in one pass.

Atticus' smile suddenly became a grotesque grimace and his body began to shake. He stared at Zane and managed one final "Fuck you" before keeling over on the bed.

Zane rushed over and checked his pulse, "He's still alive, he's got more lives than a cat. Come on Zag, let's go, with any luck this asshole won't wake up for ten years."

Zag put his arm on Zane's shoulder to stop him from leaving, "Wait, my friend, I have an idea !"