From Hell With Love: A Secret Histories Novel

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Authors: Simon R. Green

BOOK: From Hell With Love: A Secret Histories Novel
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Table of Contents
 
 
ALSO BY SIMON R. GREEN
THE SECRET HISTORIES NOVELS
The Man with the Golden Torc
Daemons Are Forever
The Spy Who Haunted Me
 
THE DEATHSTALKER SERIES
Twilight of the Empire
Deathstalker
Deathstalker Rebellion
Deathstalker War
Deathstalker Honor
Deathstalker Destiny
Deathstalker Legacy
Deathstalker Return
Deathstalker Coda
 
THE ADVENTURES OF HAWK & FISHER
Swords of Haven
Guards of Haven
 
ALSO BY SIMON R. GREEN
Blue Moon Rising
Beyond the Blue Moon
Blood and Honor
Down Among the Dead Men
Shadows Fall
 
ACE BOOKS
THE NIGHTSIDE SERIES
Something from the Nightside
Agents of Light and Darkness
Nightingale’s Lament
Hex and the City
Paths Not Taken
Sharper Than a Serpent’s Tooth
Hell to Pay
The Unnatural Inquirer
Just Another Judgement Day
The Good, The Bad, and The Uncanny
ROC
Published by New American Library, a division of
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,
New York, New York 10014, USA
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:
80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
First published by Roc, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, June 2010
Copyright © Simon R. Green, 2010
All rights reserved
REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA:
 
Green, Simon., 1955 -
From hell with love: a secret histories novel/Simon R. Green.
p. cm.—(Secret histories; bk. 4)
eISBN : 978-1-101-18793-7
1. Drood, Eddie (Fictitious character)—Fiction. I. Title.
PR6107.R44F76 2010
823’.92—dc22 2010003845
Set in Dante
 
 
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PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
 
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Previously in the Secret Histories . . .
T
he name’s Bond. Shaman Bond.
You can mention that name anywhere in the darker parts of London, and someone will smile ruefully, or nod knowingly. Shaman Bond is a well-known face—always turning up when things get dangerous or a little bit weird; always ready for action, intrigue and a little illegal fun. Always there on the edges, where the games get strange and the night people dance to their own peculiar piper. Everyone at work or at people dance to their own peculiar piper. Everyone at work or at play in society’s shadows knows Shaman Bond.
Except, they don’t.
I’m Eddie Drood, and Shaman Bond is just my use name—a mask for me to wear in public, to hide who and what I really am.
I’m a field agent for the ancient and mighty Drood family. We stand between Humanity and all the dark forces that threaten. We defend you from aliens and elves, mad scientists and their monsters, secret organisations and ancient inhuman enemies. Ever since my Druid ancestors first made contact with an other-dimensional entity called the Heart, who made them the protectors of Humanity by granting them incredible golden armour.
It was only very recently that I discovered the awful price my family paid for that armour, and was still paying, centuries later. I destroyed the Heart, to save my family’s soul. Now we have new armour, provided by a new other-dimensional entity. Called Ethel. I really don’t want to talk about that.
I saved the family from itself, and for my sins they put me in charge, but I was never happy with that much responsibility. First chance I got I dumped it all on someone else, and went back to being just a field agent again. One of the best, if I do say so myself.
But—the Man from U.N.C.L.E. had to contend with agents of THRUSH. James Bond had SPECTRE. So it really shouldn’t have come as such a surprise to me, that a family as ancient and powerful as mine might have its own very dark shadow . . .
CHAPTER ONE
The Return of Doctor Delirium
I
n the secret agent business, no one is necessarily who or what they say they are. It comes with the job, and the territory. Agents in the field collect names and identities the way normal people collect credit cards; and just like you, we all have to pay the cost when the bill comes due. Use names are common, if only to help us avoid the consequences of our actions. I’m Shaman Bond as often as I’m Eddie Drood. In fact, a lot of the time I think I prefer being Shaman; he doesn’t have the duties and responsibilities of being a Drood.
And it’s not just us poor bastards risking our lives out in the field—no organisation is ever what it appears to be, when seen from the outside. They all have levels within levels, inner circles and hidden agendas, and the left hand is never allowed to know who the right hand is killing. Like the onion, there are layers within layers within layers, and sometimes, just like the onion, we have no heart.
The Droods are a family, as well as an organisation.
Anything for the family,
we are taught to say, from a very early age. And if you can’t trust your family, who can you trust?
It’s always hot as hell in Los Angeles, but that’s just one of the reasons why the natives call it Hell A. On the one side you’ve got Hollywood, where all your dreams can come true, including all the really disappointing ones; and on the other side you’ve got Disneyland, where dreams are up for sale, or at least rent. And in between . . . there’s all the sin and avarice in the world, just waiting for you to put a foot wrong. Everyone who matters turns up in LA eventually, because LA is a city that deals in temptation. Especially for the kind of people who like to think they’re above the laws and moral constraints that operate in the rest of the world. Las Vegas deals in money, New York deals in deals, but LA deals in sin.

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