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A few weeks back, while looking for the Qomrama, I hassled some Cold Case soul merchants at Bamboo House of Dolls. Stripped them and made them think I was skinning one of them. It was just a spell, a Hellion hoodoo trick. Nothing bad happened except to their egos. Some people can’t take a joke.
“I didn’t torture anyone. They were as safe as baby chickens under mom’s wings. I scared them a little and sent them to bed without their supper. That’s it.”
Blackburn pours his wife a drink. It’s a little early in the day for whiskey, even for me. They really don’t like having me in their house.
I hardly know Tuatha at all. When I first met her she wasn’t much more than a walking corpse. I thought she might be on chemotherapy, but why would a high-class Sub Rosa be using civilian doctors? Turns out Aelita had hidden her soul somewhere in order to blackmail Blackburn. I convinced Mr. Muninn to find it and return it to her. However much she might be one of L.A.’s pampered rich elite, she didn’t deserve to get ripped apart by a lunatic like Aelita.
“You have a madcap definition of safe, Mr. Stark,” she says.
I raise my drink in her direction.
“It’s just Stark. And yeah, I’m all about the merry pranks.”
“Physical torture or not,” says Blackburn, “Nasrudin took what you did as an attack on the entire soul-merchant clan. He demanded satisfaction and I didn’t have any choice but to say yes. It was politics, pure and simple. As an ex-Lucifer, surely you understand that.”
Tuatha says, “Don’t tell me you didn’t see it coming. You understand revenge, if nothing else.”
“I understand fine. I just get testy when it’s aimed at me.”
Blackburn waves his hand, dismissing everything that’s been said.
“Let’s put that behind us. I’ve made it clear to Nasrudin that he overstepped when he tried to gun you down. It won’t happen again.”
“And he’s such a reasonable guy. I’m sure he keeps his promises.”
“To me he does.”
I can believe that, actually. Sounds like I’m clear of one source of immense bullshit for a while.
Tuatha says, “You know, you did a lot of people a lot of good when you dispatched Norris Quay. I can tell you truthfully, he won’t be missed.”
Old, decrepit Norris Quay was the richest man in California, but not anymore. He’s severely dead.
“I bet. But I didn’t dispatch him. He was killed by crazies in the basement of Kill City.”
“Naturally,” says Blackburn, humoring me but not believing a word of it. He opens a desk drawer and pulls out an old book. It’s battered, like one of the heretical books in Father Traven’s library.
“However it happened, it’s given us access to his considerable collection of occult objects and texts. My great-grandfather wrote this one. One of the first set of bylaws and family trees for the American Sub Rosa. Would you like to see it?”
“Thanks. But I’m afraid I’ll spill my drink on it.”
“Of course,” he says, disappointed I didn’t want to be dazzled by his family roots.
“In any case,” he says, “I’ve sent a particularly interesting book to the Golden Vigil. I understand they have an actual Buddhist priest helping with them with research.”
“They do.”
“You could have knocked me over with a feather when I heard that those old fundamentalists were consorting with Eastern heathens,” says Tuatha. When she smiles there are lines at the corners of her eyes. I like that unlike a lot of Sub Rosa elite, she’s not trying to glamour away her age. “Have you met him? What’s he like? I’ve heard those old monks can be quite the pranksters. Fun workmates.”
“ ‘Fun’ isn’t the word I’d use. And I haven’t worked with him much, so I don’t know how good he is. Wells seems to think he’s the bees’ knees.”
“You must tell me more about him the next time you come by,” says Tuatha.
“I’m coming back?”
“I hope so,” says Blackburn. “I offered you the job of my security chief before and I’d hoped that since then you’d reconsidered it.”
“Actually, I hadn’t. Listen, I was bodyguard for the first Lucifer and was lousy at it. I’m not being modest. I got us ambushed and him cut up. I’m good at hitting things, not keeping things from getting hit.”
