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“By making you head of their branch headquarters.”
“Exactly,” he says, giving me the most beautifully smug smile in history.
I lower my gun. Hesediel is on the other side of Quay listening to everything. She doesn’t look happy.
“You sold this filth to my kind. You polluted celestials with the bowels of the fallen.”
“They polluted themselves with black milk. And the corrupt blood of poisoned children, don’t forget,” says Quay merrily.
I tap the Glock against the side of my leg, trying not to use it.
“I still don’t get it. Why take sides in the war?”
“I told you. We’re not taking sides. We’re just working the odds.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Of course not. Hush and let me explain.”
“Hush” is a funny word. It makes me want to cut someone’s head off. But I let it pass for now.
Quay continues: “Heaven is a closed market without the war. Very little profit to be made there. Hell, on the other hand, is wide open. Think of it as Wormwood’s offshore bank account,” he says.
“What if the rebel angels lose and souls can enter Heaven?”
“Then Hell will remain a haven for Wormwood. The damned who reject Heaven will stay and the rebel angels will ally with us. Who doesn’t want an army of angels on their side? Think of what they could do for us on Earth.”
“What if the rebels win?” says Hesediel.
“Then human souls and Hellions will be exiled to Hell forever. And, again, Wormwood will be in charge. And as long as there are Hellions in Hell, we’ll have a steady supply of black milk.”
I finally get it.
“And Wormwood on Earth stays immortal.”
“Exactly.”
“They need a steady diet of the stuff to stay alive.”
“Yes. It’s an unpleasant brew, from what I understand, but immortality is the lollipop one gets after the medicine.”
I turn him around to face me.
“That means all we have to do is destroy the source of black milk and your whole plan falls apart. The rebel angels lose. No one in your Boy Scout troop stays immortal. And if Wormwood comes apart down here, how long will it take to fall apart back home?”
Quay gives Holly a big grin, then looks back at me.
“Is that your plan, Sandman Slim? You’re going to murder all the millions of Hellions in Perdition?”
“If I have to.”
“You really are an egomaniacal child, aren’t you?”
I want to say something clever, but nothing comes out.
Quay goes up on his toes for a second, then back down, happy but restless.
“Now that I’ve kept my part of the bargain, I assume Holly and I are free to go?”
