>>Vilcapampa made his early money off drugs and smuggling live animals for the exotics trade. Never totally got free of that, really.

Me: Another reason to be vague about the past.

>>And Langer got Vilcapampa illegal big game hunts. That sort of thing. Arranged it.

Me: A real humanitarian.

>>Like the devil is a humanitarian.

Me: And where do you fall in that spectrum?

>> And it was a while before Vilcapampa’s people realized they were in too deep with Langer. With Contila.

In that lack of answer about the Devil, I knew I should see the answer. It was right there, staring from the darkness, but I just couldn’t see it. Decided to pivot.

Me: Agency?

>>Pardon?

Me: You decide.

>>Clever. Langer had agency for a time, a clear agenda. A kind of Robin Hood. Help the poor, hurt the government, corporations.

Me: And who do you work for? Vilcapampa?

I knew he didn’t. Just wanted a reaction.

>>I forget. It escapes me.

Me: And Langer and Silvina?

>>It worked the usual way. All the parts fit just fine.

It took me a moment to process that. To understand Hellmouth meant Silvina and Langer had slept together. I began to type my surprise, thought better of it. Started over.

Me: And Silvina was drawn to, what, his sexy anarcho-sociopath qualities?

>>More that love-hate thing.

Me: Physical, then.

>>Very. You should see the surveillance photos.

Me: Show me.

>>Voyeur! Kinky. But I don’t have them anymore. Just trust me.

Considered that a moment. Didn’t trust it. In what capacity would he have been privy to the intel? Felt, again, like a fed thing. Or Hellmouth had had a mole.

Me: She thought she’d turn him. Convince him. Use the Robin Hood impulse to pry him wide open.

>>Why do you care? It must bother you. Why does it bother you, Jilly?

Me: Don’t call me that … Then they split up.

>>Obviously. Silvina dumped him.

Me: Would you have slept with me?

>>Field work. Magic. Who do *you* work for?

So that made him uncomfortable. Good.

Me: No one.

>>Are you sure?

Me: What do you want?

>>Want or need?

Me: What is your purpose?

>>What. Is. Robot’s. Purpose.

Me: Yes.

>>

Me: Well?

>>Purpose is overrated. Along with mission statements. You know Larry died in the hospital, right? Allie’s gone missing.

Me: Was that you?

>>No, that was us. Working together.

Me: Fuck you.

>>I thought we already covered that. Oh—and Alex shuttered your company. You must have seen that.

I put the phone down. Hellmouth was full of unpleasant revelations. Silvina. Allie. The company going under didn’t surprise me. I didn’t care, either. I did care whether Allie had been hurt.

I wanted to throw up. I couldn’t. Wanted a cigarette. No, I didn’t. Thankfully, I never allowed the bottles of booze to follow me into the car.