At the Behest of the Dead (29 page)

The kid hovered around the doorway while Doc and I talked. He produced a bag from his robe, extracted something that looked like jerky, and chewed on it while I waited. After a few moments of shifting from foot to foot
, I found a seat and pulled it lose from a tangle of old clothes, worn robes, and at least one set of strips that looked more than a little bit like dried intestines. I shoved these to the side.

“No thanks,
” I said and nodded at the baggie.

“I didn’t offer.”

“Oh, right.”

He looked at the bag and then
back at me. He half offered it, but I didn’t want to sample whatever horror might be in there. For all I knew he was a subsumer and that was zombie flesh. He’s already mentioned raising skeletons which, and you can trust me on this one, sounds like an awesome trick. But no one wants to be around for that. It smells like – well, like death times a hundred. Not to mention all the dirt and detritus that gets stuck in the rib bones, only to fall out and litter the floor.

“So what do you do now?” t
he kid asked.

“Hunt down changers.”

“Whoa.”

“Just kidding. I make potions and find killers. I’m good at reading violent deaths.”

“Heavy, dude.”

“Indeed,” I said and wished I had a pair of headphones to jam in my ears.

“Have you worked on any big serial killer cases?”

“Ever heard of the Green
River killer?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Yeah, man. That guy’s an asshole.”

I chuckled at that one.

“I worked that case a few years before they caught the killer.”

“Not too good, huh?”

I shut up before I uttered a spell that would lift him off the ground and toss him around like a rag doll. I had the glyphs for it and I was much recovered from my exploits reaching the cusp.

“Found it,” Doc West said. He had a small black bag in one hand and a scalpel in the other.

“I hope you aren’t planning to implant something in me,” I said with genuine trepidation.

“Nah. I found my favorite blade while I was in the back room.” He brandished the gleaming knife.

I let out a breath.

“Where did you get such a piece?” I asked as I studied the device he’d handed me. It was a heavy pentacle shape with a large red ruby in the center. It rotated like the arm of a watch, but counterclockwise. There were no markings that I could see, and when I filtered a wisp of power into it the device threw it back in my face. I’d heard of these but never seen one up close.

“Came in on a corpse a couple of decades ago. I don’t know who the guy was but I tucked that away for a rainy day. Don’t lose it!”

I dropped the amulet in my jean pocket.

Doc followed me to the door and leaned close.

“Son, you get in trouble, you come back here. You’re not the best necromancer, but you are one of us, and that counts. If you need help remember your home.”

“You’re all heart, Doc.”

I gave the old man a hug and made for the sky on my fork.

Chapter
Fifteen

O
nce upon a time there was a little bar called South of Heaven where a guy could get a drink, meet a girl, and probably end up in a duel. It was an old school warlock hangout until something called progress caught up with it. Ramshackle and ill kempt, the joint had grown over the years from something resembling a tiny one-room tavern, to a much larger and proper dive. Over the last twenty years, a land developer stepped in and tried to buy the place. He was killed and tossed across the cusp, but the owner got the message. It was time to change.

So the casino was born and so was the logo “You can’t take it with! Blow it here!”

South of Heaven was the last stop on the way to the cusp. The proper entrance to hell was on this side but no one was really sure where it lay. I’m sure one of the arch demons could point it out, Belial, Azrael or even the big bad wolf himself, but to mere mortals the location was a mystery. A cabal of warlocks once tried to drill a hole to the other side by combining their power with a huge diamond tipped industrial drill. The seven were sucked to the other side, their wards and glyphs smashed aside like J-ello pops.

Idiots.

It had become a grand joke for the suicidal or drunk. Or both.

“Where
ya heading?”

“The cusp.”

The casino wasn’t my real stop, but I had to go through the place to reach my goal.

Glamo
ured to the gills, hexes resplendent on my body, robe, and hood, I walked in with long purposeful strides.

The entrance was a gaping maw shaped like a demon’s mouth. Neon teeth hung over the doorway.
I was greeted by a pair of men with giant arms crossed over chests big enough to stop a rhino. The pair wore black and didn’t bother to conceal dual pieces under their arms. Their guns looked like polycarbonate, which gave the appearance of Glocks, but I had no doubt they were seriously enhanced to stop anything that might threaten the safety of the paying customers.

The s
tairs weren’t so peachy. Furrows were worn in the red plush, and at least one stain that was probably blood.

The apes nodded at me but didn’t look all that intimidated. I thought everyone duck
ed and scrapped when inquisitors hit the scene.

“Where you
goin’, cus?” one of the guys asked. His voice sounded like gravel in a rotating drum.

“In here to bet my life savings. Now
, get out of the way. Inquisitor business.”

“Got da badge?” the other asked. He had one foot cocked behind his other leg, the heel resting against the wall. His shirt rippled open around a few poor buttons, revealing mahogany wood etc
hed with more glyphs than I had ever seen in one place. This guy was a tank.

I made a show of fishing around in my deep inner pockets. Checked one side, then the other. Then I produced the piece Doc West had given me, sa
id a silent prayer to whatever gods might have their attention turned in my direction, and held it up. The ruby in the center continued its rotation round and round, like a really fast second hand.

The first brute stared at it long and hard then nodded once.

“Sure, inquisitor. Sorry for the bother.” He gestured with one tree trunk of an arm.

I didn’t say a
nything else. Just raised my hood and entered South of Heaven. As I walked through the door, I had the urge to spin around because I felt both sets of eyes burrowing into the back of my head. After a few strides I gave in and looked over my shoulder. One of them was speaking into his palm, probably into one of those devices TV secret agents have in their shirt cuffs. Calling ahead for little ole me? Cool.

But how was it that an inquisitor, the more or less epitome of
badassery, was treated like a common street urchin at the entrance to the casino? What did these guys know? A real inquisitor didn’t answer questions. In fact they pretty much didn’t answer to anyone. Where they went, rulers shook in their Birkenstocks.

The doors slid closed like a whisper.

If it had been bright through the closed doors, it was an inferno on the inside.

I strode through the main area and headed for the bar in the back. The casino proper wasn’t as la
rge as a casino you would find in the mortal world, and the games weren’t quite the same.

There were games of chance a plenty. The regulars were here
, like roulette, but it was a version that relied on symbols, not numbers and colors. There was a salamander on the rim, and if it got ornery it would jump into the bowl and snatch out the marble as it spun round and round, voiding the game in progress.

A couple played blackjack for blood. I paused to watch as one of them, the apparent loser of the round, held out their wrist for the dealer to prick with a very sharp dagger. If anyone got carried away
, their bodies were always welcome at the necropolis.

A game of cards was in full swing
, but the crowd was pretty nasty. A guy in a duster had a serious piece of hardware over his shoulder. Probably a bounty hunter headed to the cusp to try and bring back something before it could enter. The others at the table looked fae to me, so I kept the hells away from them. Bad enough being born a warlock. Get one of those fairy bastards talking and before you knew it they had misplaced two or three months of your time.

The slots were packed. The sound
was immense as bells and coins clinked. Boos, hisses, cheers, and jeers drifted from that section of the room. It was populated with a rabble of folks, most human, some not so much.

I moved past slots and the hair on the back of my neck rustle
d as if a cool breeze had caressed it. I turned and found a drink server eyeing me as well as one of the card dealers. He was also talking into his sleeve.

Were they hiding something?
Some torture-porn room in the back?

I kept going,
trying to ignore the attention.

I strode in the dimly lit bar. This was the original South of Heaven, a hovel really, but they made their own whiskey that was quite popular. It was also good for getting spilled paint
out of just about anything.

“Can I get you something
, inquisitor?” the bartender asked. She was at least half demon and had an impish smile. Her teeth were the whitest of white, two large ones rose from her lower jaw and curved over her lips like tusks. This gave her a slight lisp. Her lips were full and lighter than her skin color. I wondered how in the hell you made out with someone like that.

She wore a tiny white top that was unbuttoned almost to her navel. To compliment the shirt, such that it was, she sported a plaid schoolgirl skirt that flipped up and down in the back
, thanks to her tail. This revealed a set of blood red fishnet stockings. Her legs looked perfectly human. Heavy on the perfect part.

“Where’s Mike?”

“His day off.  So, inquisitor, is it true that you guys are enhanced? I find regular guys aren’t really up to my standards. I could use a challenge, if you know what I mean.” Her finger drew a line between her full scaly breasts.

“Demon, I have no use for your kind. Do you see the color of my robe?” I put as much conviction into my voice as I could. The truth was that she was etched with enough glamour glyphs to make the Pope take notice.

“Such a temper. Oh no, Mr. Inquisitor. Don’t tie me to a bed and make me answer your questions.” She purred and crossed her wrists on the bar and offered a terrific pout.

“
Er, can I leave a message?”

“Have a drink, inquisitor. It’s a specialty.” She tossed in a mint leaf and ground it up with ice. A couple of doses of liquor went in.
“I’ll tell you all about Mike.”

She set the drink in front of me with a smile. Then she pulled up a seat right across from me and leaned over so I got a flawless view down her shirt.

I took a sip and let the drink burn a hole in my throat. I gasped for breath and then did it again. The drink was sweet, but it was also about eighty proof.

“Do you always give out free drinks?”

“Nah. Just for guys that strike my fancy.”

“What’s with the scales?”

“These old things?” She ran her hands down her chest and over her short top.

“
Er. Yeah.”

“Daddy was a demon. Back in the seventies these kids used to be into devil worship. So one day
Daddy got summoned by a band, and after he devoured them he knocked up the singer’s girlfriend. She was a real beauty queen, but Mom died young.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks, Phineas. You’re a real sweetheart.”

“How did you know my name?”

“We told her. That’s how.” The muscle from the front of the building had entered the noisy bar while I was distracted by the demon in red.

“Can I buy you guys a drink?”

“Nah. I think you had enough for all of us.” The clown that was twice my size said, but the words were strange, slowed down and hollow.

I stumbled away and fumbled for wormwood. The piece came out
, but before I could smear it with blood the bruiser came at me.

I picked up a barstool and threw it as I took a few steps backward. A word accelerated the seat into the tank’s face
, where it promptly exploded. This only made Mr. Grumpy look even more pissed.

I tried to babble my demon’s name but barely got the first part out. I’d jammed the end of the wood into my finger until I drew blood. The sting was worth it as I smeared it up and down my new weapon.

A glyph formed as I stumbled and nearly went down. I was backed into a wall, so I concentrated on the form and it leapt into view.

I sent the sizzling weapon homing in on the big one. It stuck and set him on fire. The other one patted his pal down until he was out.

I didn’t have squat for weapons and took another shot at the demon’s name, then something heavy smashed into the back of my head and I felt like I was falling over the cusp.