Chapters (60)
- DAW Books Presents
- HAPPY HOURINHELL
- Copyright page
- Contents
- Dedication
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- prologue
- one
- two
- three
- four
- five
- six
- interlude
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
- eleven
- twelve
- interlude
- thirteen
- fourteen
- interlude
- fifteen
- sixteen
- seventeen
- eighteen
- nineteen
- twenty
- twenty-one
- interlude
- twenty-two
- twenty-three
- twenty-four
- twenty-five
- twenty-six
- twenty-seven
- twenty-eight
- twenty-nine
- thirty
- thirty-one
- thirty-two
- thirty-three
- thirty-four
- thirty-five
- thirty-six
- thirty-seven
- thirty-eight
- thirty-nine
- forty
- forty-one
- forty-two
- forty-three
- forty-four
- forty-five
- forty-six
- forty-seven
- forty-eight
- epilogue
“Oh, it all sounds very important.” He gave me another one of those flat black grins as a wave of anguish rippled across his beet-red face. “Very important indeed. I’m sure you know important leaders.”
“Niloch, the Commissar of Gravejaw is a personal friend.” I hoped Niloch was too busy being a smoldering ash to ever tell this guy the truth. “And I don’t want to drop names . . . but there’s Eligor the Horseman. The grand duke, you must know him . . .?”
“Eligor?” His mouth tightened. “I am not fortunate enough to know His Grace, of course. But if he is a friend of yours . . .”
“Yes! Old friend. We’re like this.” I held up my hand, the two fingers side by side. “Just the other day he told me, ‘Snakestaff, when you’re back from this errand, you must come and stay with me.’” Which wasn’t altogether a lie—I was pretty certain Eligor would be very happy to put me up if he found out I was in town. It was just that the accommodations weren’t going to be even as nice as this place was.
“You have convinced me.” The Block’s face suddenly went darker, as though something was squeezing it in a huge invisible fist. When the spasm had passed, he said, “Come. Give me your hand.”
Almost twenty years of Earth life had made me a fool. I stuck out my right, just as if I was about to receive a congratulatory handshake and maybe even a small check. Bobby Dollar, Miss Fucking Congeniality. The Block’s thick, all too human hands closed around my wrist and yanked me forward. “There is a toll to pay, of course,” he said. Before I could get my balance he shoved my entire hand into his wide, black-toothed mouth, which felt worse than I can describe. Then he bit down.
I may not have been wearing my own body, and the demon body was obviously not remotely human, but I can tell you that it still hurt like an ungodly motherfucker to have my hand chewed off. Before I knew it I was down on my knees, whimpering and gasping as I tried desperately to stanch the blood pumping from the ragged end of my wrist. Block spit the hand back out. It lay for a moment on his desk like a bloated dead spider, then he lifted it and tore off three of the fingers, each making its own dreadful wet snap.
“Polly!” he shouted. The door opened. The bird-thing stood there.
“Yes, great Block?”