“One, quit with the ‘my lord’ stuff. And two, I don’t care.”
He turns like he’s going to walk away but he just stands there.
“You still here?”
“I was wondering what you’re doing down at this end of the palace. Is it for something you’ve lost or something you’ve found?”
I go over to him, tear open his shirt, and rip the talisman off his neck. The chain leaves a nice red mark on his throat.
I get in close and whisper, “I cut off my own face once because it seemed like a good idea at the time. What do you think I’ll cut off you?”
He gives me a tiny nod and steps back, rubbing the red mark where the chain broke.
“It’s nice to see you with your energy back. I’ve been worried.”
“What does that mean?”
He waves his hand up and down me.
“Just an observation. Since you replaced our other Lucifer, you’ve seemed so wan and . . . what? Weak? It would be awful if people thought your armor was the only thing keeping you alive.”
How does this little shit know these things? I should snap his neck right now.
“I tell you what. Maybe you should keep this after all.”
I hold out the talisman.
He hesitates.
I hold it by two fingers and waggle it at him.
When he reaches for it, I let it drop. His gaze follows it down. I slam my shoulder into him, pinning his right hand against the wall. Grab the blade from behind my back. One quick slash and I cut off his little finger. He howls and falls to his knees, cradling his mutilated hand against his chest. Black blood oozes down his shirt. I pull off the glove that covers my Kissi arm, pick the talisman up off the floor, and drop it in my pocket. I grab him by the hair so he gets a good look at my prosthetic.
“The next time you threaten me, I’ll take your whole arm.”
First rule of threats. Always threaten big. Second rule. Always mean it, even if you don’t particularly want to do it.
He looks up at me.
“You pig. You human filth.”
“What do you expect from the Devil? A note in your personnel file?”
He’s wearing a collarless gray jacket. He manages to slip one arm out and wrap it around his bleeding hand. Leaning his good hand on the wall, he slowly gets to his feet, grimacing and cursing, and starts away down the hall.
I lean against the wall and light a Malediction.
I’ve got to remember not to drink anything I don’t get myself, preferably from outside the palace. It might not be poisoned but it will definitely be pissed in.
I guess now there’s another thing Candy doesn’t get to know about. I should start keeping a list.
I stay put until I finish my cigarette and everything is quiet but the air-conditioning. Closing my eyes, I try to reach out. Feel if there’s anything or anyone hiding nearby. I don’t get anything.
I take a long look at the false wall. Sometimes objects can pick up residual magic when someone throws powerful hoodoo nearby. When that happens, a lamp, a chair, or that massager mom keeps in her bedside table that you’re not supposed to know about can give off the same vibes as a genuinely enchanted object. That can happen to, say, a wall if someone was doing heavy spell work around here. There’s no absolute way of knowing without going forensic and that was Vidocq’s area, not mine. I wish he was here.
I step back and take a good look.
You’re not really there, are you?