Page 110 of Demons Dig Donuts

Mr. Heiss curled his arm around Indy’s waist and pulled him in closer. He fanned his fingers out across the small of Indy’s back, dipping him as he continued to completely claim every inch of Indy’s mouth with deep swipes of his long tongue. It was in that moment Indy knew he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Fuck.

Indy finally got enough brain power back to pull away, panting. “Hey, you cheated.”

“Is it really cheating if it’s so effective?”

“Fuck you.”

“Later. Business first.” Mr. Heiss paused, and he slid his hand to cup Indy’s cheek. “My intention is not to upset you. The things I do, however, are necessary.”

Indy scoffed. “Is that your idea of an apology?”

Mr. Heiss bristled. “Is it adequate?”

“No.”

“Hmm.” Mr. Heiss frowned. “Later.” He laid a hand at the back of Indy’s neck. “Let’s go.”

“That’s it? You think one fucking kiss is gonna—hey! Ow, ow, ow!” Indy squealed as Mr. Heiss dragged him toward the Walmart. “Safe word, bitch! Come on! You know I like it raw, baby, but ow, ow—”

Mr. Heiss gentled his touch but did not let go, keeping Indy close as he strolled to the doors. They opened at their approach, either automatic or as a result of Mr. Heiss’s power. There was an audible series of pops, like firecrackers going off inside a metal pot.

Indy looked up in time to see the fading remnants of what may have been some kind of protection sigils. The last symbol he made out looked like a wiggly tongue, much like the one Mr. Heiss just had in Indy’s mouth. Everything else before him, well, was pretty much a Walmart but it was a Walmart in an episode of The Walking Dead.

Empty, dusty, and smelled like rank piss.

Lovely.

Mr. Heiss brought Indy beyond the abandoned registers into the body of the store, but they were far from alone. There were dozens of demons clustered at each end cap, some in human form but most were not, and they all bowed their heads respectfully as they passed by.

Jesus Christ, the air was so tense and tight that Indy could have stuck his dick in and fucked it. Seeing so many demons here before them made it much less likely that the sigils Mr. Heiss destroyed had been for protection, but Indy didn’t have any other idea as to what their purpose would have been.

Wiggly tongue sex.

Ass-eating sigils.

Whatever.

A section of the aisles had been removed and several long tables set up in its place. The tables were divided into separate workstations, each one appointed with a small fluorescent lamp, small machines, plastic trays, test tubes, and some other laboratory equipment Indy didn’t recognize.

The pills, however, were familiar.

While he was no expert, this was clearly a spot for manufacturing drugs.

Tanze and Underwood were present, and they both looked like shit. They seemed to have all of their limbs or whatever back, but their faces were gaunt and exhausted. Didn’t seem like Azazel had been exaggerating about how bad off they both were still, but at least they were alive.

Mr. Heiss barely gave either of them a glance when they walked by, but Indy waved.

Only Tanze perked up and waved back.

Underwood glared.

Azazel stood at one of the tables, human until he tried some of the residue from the pill-cutting table. His demonic form flickered through, and he grimaced. “Yup. That’s it.” He looked to Mr. Heiss. “Bodies are over here.”

Mr. Heiss stopped short, his arm curling around Indy. “And?”

“It’s, uh…” Azazel glanced at Indy before looking back at Mr. Heiss. “It’s Mr. Klotz and Mr. Stein.”