The pipsqueak still had some fight in him. He was so small. I had to remind myself that he was also a killer.

“Don’t bullshit me, Billy,” I said, pulling his face close to mine. “I know if you throw away the incantation, the curse won’t work. I’ve been at this a lot longer than you, so don’t bullshit a bullshitter.”

I gave him a quick yank. Our noses touched, and for a single instant I allowed my face to shift to a wolf, then back again. I just wanted to give him a peek.

“Where’s . . . the fucking . . . incantation?”

He was beaten. The kid pointed to the bong. I threw him onto the bullet-riddled mattress and turned the bong over. Taped to the base was a small piece of parchment with some mumbo-jumbo scrawled on it. I took the paper and turned to Billy as I reloaded my piece.

“The body. It’s at Wayside Cemetery, right?”

Billy nodded.

“Where?” I slammed another clip into the .45.

He shook and started to cry. “There’s a tomb for the dick who founded this piece-of-shit town. I left it in there.”

“Good boy. Now listen to me,” I said reholstering my heater, “You’re gonna clean yourself up good, then you’re gonna march yourself down to the sheriff’s office and turn yourself in. You’re a kid. You’ll get the easy treatment and a lot of attention. You’ll be the most popular psycho in the state.”

The kid stared at me blankly.

I waved. “Hello? You understand? Otherwise, I come back with Sam in one piece. Believe me, that old son-of-a-bitch will tear you apart. He isn’t as understanding as me.”

Finally the kid nodded. I turned my back, knowing if the kid didn’t try anything with my defenses down he’d do as I told him.

“Satana Karise!”

A bolt of pain shot through my body like electricity. I yelled and fell to one knee. The little fucker had no intention of letting up.

When I turned back, Billy wasn’t alone. We had some company. A red, winged creature stood behind him, in front of a black portal ripped into the air. I stood back up and looked at the kid. He was smirking, his greasy hair slung down over one eye. My blood boiled. Who did this little punk-ass bitch think he was?

“Nice try, mister. But I have friends now—real friends—and they’ll protect me against you and anybody else who tries to stop me. We made a deal.”