The Wrong Goodbye

full-on Hitler bad, or you’ve got to make yourself a deal with a demon. And you, my friend, are the latter.”

“But that don’t make no sense! If I’da made a deal with a demon, wouldn’t I remember it? If I’da made a deal with a demon, wouldn’t I at least have gotten something out of it?”

I shook my head in disbelief. “You think you didn’t?'

“What —you’re saying that I did?”

“Gio, before you wound up working for the Outfit, what kind of shit were you pulling?”

Gio hedged. “Oh, you know, a little of this, a little of that.”

“Yeah, my guess is emphasis on little. The way I hear it, you were nothing but a two-bit thug. I’m guessing some mugging, a hold-up or two, maybe a little smash-and-grab, right?”

Dude was frowning something fierce, now. When he spoke, his tone was sullen, petulant. “I did all right.”

“Sure you did,” I said, “but you’ve got to admit, that sort of stuff doesn’t exactly make you Outfit material, now does it?”

“I… I guess not.”

“Only one day, a guy comes along, says he’ll make your dreams come true —all you’ve got to do is come work for him, and he’ll take care of the rest. Next thing you know, you’re living large, and you can’t believe your luck —but you aren’t about to question it, because you’re afraid that if you do, it’s all going to go away. Am I close?”

“A little too,” he admitted.

“That guy you met —he make you shake on it?”

He thought on that a sec. “Yeah.”

“Demon.”

Gio fell silent for a while, mulling over what I’d just told him. Then he heaved a sigh and shook his head. “Shit,” he said, “it ain’t like I was ever in line for the pearly gates anyway —not after all I done. The way I see it, I still came out ahead.”

“Yeah, only now hell’s got all of eternity to try to change your mind.”

We spent the next mile or so in silence. When Gio finally broke it, his tone was absent its usual bravado. He sounded small, fragile, afraid. “What’s gonna happen to me? When this is all over, I mean.”

“You’re asking what hell is like?”

“Yeah.”

“I couldn’t say.”

“You mean you’re like forbidden?”

“No, I mean I couldn’t say. Hell is sort of like a tailored suit of bad. Everybody’s is a little different, and everybody’s is designed to deliver the punishment that best fits them. For me, hell is right here, right now —it’s this world, this life, this thankless task. For you, I couldn’t say.”

“That don’t give me much to help prepare for it.”

“Sorry, but that’s all I’ve got. And even if I had more to tell you, it wouldn’t help. There’s just no preparing for what you’ve got coming.”

“Jesus, dude —your bedside manner sucks. You trying to scare the shit outta me?”

“I’m trying to tell you the truth,” I said. It came out harsher than I intended. I took a breath and tried again. “Look, if you want to know what hell is really like, you’ve got to look inside yourself. Hell is your worst fear, your deepest insecurity, laid bare for all the world to see —again and again, for all eternity. You think you can psych yourself up for that, then be my guest. But if you want my advice, I suggest you enjoy what little time you’ve got left.”

“Speaking of,” he said, “I got myself a special lady in Vegas I wouldn’t mind seeing one last time before I’m dead for good. You think once we finish with this demon guy, we could maybe swing on by?”

“No,” I said.

“Right. Figures.”

And then, for a while, we said nothing.

For a while, we both had nothing left to say.

12.

“Collector!” she said, her voice echoing off the dingy bathroom tiles. “You want to tell me what it is you think you’re doing?”

I shut off the tap and looked in vain for a paper towel, instead settling on shaking the rust-scented water from my hands. We were at a truck stop an hour west of Abilene, in a stretch of countryside so brown and dead that, but for the occasional patch of scrub brush, it might as well have been on Mars. It was pushing three in the morning, and though there were a couple guys in the parking lot catching some shut-eye in their big rigs, the inside of the truck stop was deserted. Gio was outside, gassing up the Fiesta, which meant that in here, it was just me —well, me and Lilith, now.

I watched her in the dingy mirror as she strolled barefoot from the bathroom stall, eyeing her new surroundings with distaste. She was clad in a sheer black evening gown rendered transparent by the fluorescent lights overhead. For a second there, as I stood looking at her, I forgot my own name.

I closed my eyes and swallowed hard, and in dribs and drabs, my composure trickled back. “What I’m doing, Lily, is my job.”

“Is it, now? Because I was under the impression you’ve not been so concerned with doing that of late.”

I sighed. “So I guess you know about Varela, then.”

“As a point of fact, Collector, I know almost nothing about Varela. I know that you have thus far failed to collect him. I know my superiors are less than pleased about that fact. I know that when it came time for me to find you, you were on some kind of fucking field trip when you should have been out handling your business. So tell me —what else is there I ought to know?”

“Nothing —I’m handling it.”

“That’s funny, because last I saw you, you told me it had already been handled.”

“Yeah, well, there were some extenuating circumstances. Nothing you need to worry about. I’ve got it under control.”

“You do.” Lily, incredulous.

“Yes, I do.”

“Tell me, does your definition of under control include the undead soul in the fat- suit waiting outside for your return?”

Shit. Gio. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I was hoping I could keep him off her radar. Oh, well —too late now to do anything but play it cool. “As a matter of fact, it does. And how the hell’d you even know? You can tell just by looking at him that the body he’s wearing isn’t his?”

“Of course I can,” she snapped. “That getup he’s parading around in may be enough to fool a monkey like yourself, but I assure you, any creature not once bound to your precious mortal coil will see him coming from a mile away. Now I think it’s time you stop playing around and tell me exactly what is going on.”

So I did —or sort of did, at least. I told her about tracking Varela through the jungle, and the fact that when I found him, he was dead. I told her that Varela’s soul’d been missing, which meant he’d died by a Collector’s hand. I told her that I’d tracked down that Collector, and taken back what I thought was Varela’s soul —only to find that it was not. And I told her that I aimed to hunt down that Collector once more, and take back what was rightfully mine.

What I didn’t tell her was that I knew the Collector in question, and that I’d landed in this mess because apparently he and I had a score to settle. I couldn’t see the upside in her knowing. As pissed as Lilith was at me right now, for the moment she and I were on the same side. But if she thought I’d brought this on myself, she wouldn’t hesitate to sell me out. So my choice was either keep her in the dark, or spend the next few