me. “She seems nice. If you want some private time later we can always take the car and—”
“Die a bloody death?” I smiled like it was a joke, but my eyes stayed cold and dead, making my words a promise.
“We didn’t want to take in the first place.” Madison thumbed over her shoulder at Onyx. “He made us.”
From the shocked expression on Onyx’s face, that was news to him, but—nobly—he took the blame without protest.
I looked at Onyx. “So, you’re officially taking responsibility?”
He shrugged. “I guess so.”
“Then when you don’t expect it, expect it.”
“Go easy on him,” Grace said. “He has a good heart,
mostly.” She held out the bag with the Jägermeister and Red Bull in it. Instantly, I felt a slight measure of forgiveness trying to be born, but squashed beneath a mental thumb.
Madison said, “I think you should force him to take us clubbing tonight. That will teach him!”
By then, the last two chupacabras had finished their pork entrée and scampering off about their business. I thought scampering off was a good idea. I’d eat lunch, wash it down with a Jägerbomb, and then go see a man about some serial killings, and a stolen coffin.
EIGHT
“I’ve a hard and fast rule: don’t kill the
Informant before he’s done talking.”
—Caine Deathwalker
Tinka-tinkka. The pool hall was dim, the lights being concentrated over the green-felt tables. The place wasn’t particularly busy having only a pair of pool players on the premises and the man behind the counter who nursed a silvery can of half-and-half lemonade and tea. A flat-screen TV on the wall displayed a car race where the vehicles roared at one another as they maneuvered for supremacy. The door swung slowly shut behind Onyx and me, tinkling the bell once more. We’d left the girl’s behind; this was a guy’s-only mission. No way was I having Grace tell Cassie I dragged her to a pool hall. I like my internal organs inside me.
We walked over to the register, paid for a game, and went to a wall display of parallel cue sticks.
Onyx looked them over, his all-black jeans and tee soaking up all light that hit them. “These weapons are poorly balanced.”
“Assaulting people is only their secondary function,” I said.
We watched a scrawny ponytailed brunette in a sleeveless, denim dress lean over a table, one hand knuckles up on the surface under a sawing cue stick. The stick made a final slide. There was a clack. She straightened, watching the white ball crack off of a pair striped balls, sending them rebounding wildly. Nothing went into a pocket. She scowled at the results. “I think there’s something wrong with this stick.”
With her, a grizzled, biker-looking dude grinned. “Yeah, operator error.”
Onyx looked back at me. “Some kind of game?”
I nodded. “Yeah, first person to sink all of their type of balls, and then getting the black ball, wins. Some people bet on their skill in this area.”
“And we’re going to play?”
“We’re killing time while I wait to be contacted by an information broker, who will indeed leave us broker, but better informed.” Old Man Lauphram had called ahead of me, contacting the fire-demon clan that held this territory. Being small and often neglected by the big players in the preternatural world, the local demons had fallen all over themselves to be helpful. For the usual price, they’d reached out to one of their informants, setting up this meet.
I chose my stick, looking down its length to check for warps. Finding it adequate, I moved on to an empty table. After a moment, Onyx joined me. His gaze followed my every move as I pulled balls from the pockets, wracked them
King Abdullah II, King Abdullah