“Malabraxas. I’m assistant to Brimborion.”
“He isn’t coming to work for like forever, so you get to steal all his Post-its. But before that, I want you to call down and clear out the garage. I don’t want anyone down there for an hour.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Don’t call me ‘lord.’ ”
“Yes, Lucifer.”
“You got it on the first try. Congratulations. You just got Brimborion’s job. Let Semyazah know. Also, send a cleanup crew to my room. There’s a couple of bodies. They can’t miss them. But don’t call them until after you clear out the garage.”
“Yes, Lucifer.”
I go to the closet and get out my bloody leather bike pants and hoodie. I found it in a cemetery when I first got back from Hell. Yeah, that’s kind of disgusting but I’m the only one who knows where it came from and it doesn’t smell any worse than anything else down here. After surviving the market, the Magic 8 Ball, being burned in effigy, and getting my arm cut off, it feels kind of like a good-luck charm.
I take a quick look around at the room. Nothing I need or want. I pick up the duffel, step over Brimborion’s body, and head back to the library.>I take Mason’s lighter out of my pocket and pick up an unopened pack of Maledictions from the bed. Brimborion starts and takes a step back as I tear open the pack, tap out a smoke, and light up.
“How did you know Marchosias and I were working together?” he asks.
“It was the thing with Lahash. What a zany coincidence it was that your dope dealer attacked me. You and Marchosias got drugs from him to dose Ukobach. I’m guessing Marchosias got the idea from Mason when he was experimenting on those poor bastards in the hidden room. Vetis and his fake maintenance crew smuggled Lahash in using one of your passkeys. Lahash and I were supposed to kill each other but Vetis let him out early. I wonder why. If you died, Marchosias would need a new front guy. Vetis maybe? Think about it. A legionnaire is a lot better choice for Lucifer than a secretary. You’re as dumb as a hat full of horseshit.”
He cocks the pistol.
“You have ten seconds to tell me what you’ve done with the weapon.”
“The weapon. You don’t even know what it’s called. I bet you about wet yourself when I upped the library security and you couldn’t snoop around anymore. Too bad too. I was afraid of losing the 8 Ball, so I kept it close by. A few more hours and you would have had it.”
“That’s good enough. Better than talking to you anymore.”
Click. He pulls the trigger again. Another click.
“Marchosias would never bet her life on a gun she wasn’t sure worked. See what I mean about stupid?”
Semyazah and Wild Bill come out of the bathroom. Both are holding pistols. Brimborion stares at them. I put the lit end of the Malediction to the back of his hand and he drops the Glock on the bed. I backhand him with my Kissi hand and bounce him off the wall.
“What did I say would happen if you ever threatened me again?”
He stares dumbly, hugging his bandaged hand to his chest. I put my hand around his wrist.
“I said I’d take the whole arm.”
I let the dark flow out of me. Twisting and growing, it expands like the corona of a black sun. The dark encircles us in a freezing void, leaving Brimborion and me the only two beings in a lonely, freezing universe.
Black tendrils like strangler vines flow down from overhead while tentacles whip up from deep below. Thorny, twitching things with circles of razor-sharp teeth that spin like drill bits. Brimborion backs away but the darkness wraps around him, pulling him deeper into the black tide. The drilling teeth brace themselves against his flesh, waiting for my signal.
I grab Brimborion’s arm in my Kissi hand.
“Did Lahash steal from you or try to blackmail you or was he just a convenient fall guy? Do you think he could feel what was happening when they put the bugs into him? Or maybe later when they came out?”
Brimborion opens his mouth to scream but the dark flows in and he chokes on it.
I move my hand up to where his arm connects with his shoulder and say, “Here.”
The teeth spin. The drilling starts. Brimborion tries to wriggle away but the tentacles have him and the black vines wrap around his head, stifling his screams.
When the drilling stops, he looks at the arm, expecting to see blood and bone. There’s nothing. The skin isn’t even broken. He rubs at a few faint scratches. The skin collapses under his fingers like papier-mâché. That’s his cue to scream. He claws at the hollow arm, pulling dry dead flesh off brittle bones. Insects pour out of him. He’s ripped his arm back all the way to the shoulder by the time he understands what’s happening. He tries to shake off the insects but they’re dug in too deep. Dry bones in his arm snap and it falls where it’s snatched out of the air by a tentacle that draws it down into the void. He looks at me as the tentacles hold him, giving the hungry insects time to finish their work. It doesn’t take long. When Brimborion falls, his body is as dry and empty as a locust husk.
I let the dark go and it flows back into me like it was never there.