Ballistic Kiss (Sandman Slim 11)

“Thank you. What a complete dick.”

“He really was, wasn’t he?”

“The worst.”

There’s a sound from the other room. Abbot sticks his neck around the corner into the kitchen.

“Knock knock.”

I wave him in.

“Come on in. Want some coffee? There aren’t any more cups, but you can drink it from the pot.”

He shakes his head.

“No thanks. I’m good.”

He gives Samael a look.

“I’m sorry. You look very familiar. Have we met?”

“Probably. We’ve moved in similar circles over the years.”

“I’m sure we’ve met somewhere.”

Samael looks at me. I’m tired of dancing around things like this.

“Abbot, this is Samael. Samael, this is Abbot. Samael and I have worked together on some projects. Just like you and me.”

Abbot smiles.

“Really? What kind?”

“For a while I was the Devil,” says Samael.

Abbot tries not to look horrified. He covers it up a good 80 percent.

“Yes,” he says in his most professional voice. “You used to be Lucifer.”

Samael points to me.

“Technically, we both were.”

Now Abbot looks at me.

“What’s he talking about, Stark?”

“It’s nothing. Job titles. It’s like you. You’re the Augur. There were ones before you and there will be ones after.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question.”

I pop a PTSD pill and say, “Is everything okay in Little Cairo?”

He stops frowning, though not completely.

“Things are fine. We’ve had to administer some medical help. Modify some memories and basically repair the entire neighborhood in the last day or so, but thanks to you, the spirit infestation is over.”

Samael laughs. “Infestation.”