miserable are only venial sins after all. Lucky them.”
Ipos says, “Didn’t your father try to shoot you? Shouldn’t he be here with us?”
“I suppose by Heaven’s standards, killing an Abomination isn’t the same as killing a regular human,” says Merihim.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
I look at the screen, not really watching it.
I say, “I think we’re done here for now. Don’t you?”
As they head for the fake bookcase, Merihim says, “Yesterday I said that I’d bring you a protective potion. That will have to wait until I can check that they’re not bogus.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not sitting around waiting to get my brain cut open. I’m going to do something.”
“What exactly?”
“I have no idea. Something, you know, subtle.”
Merihim says, “Like when you burned Eden? I only ask because I’m still trying to gauge your definition of ‘subtle.’ ”
I look at him and can’t help but smile.
“That was a fun afternoon. Anyway, you’ll know it when you see it.”
“I have no doubt.”
They go out and Ipos pulls the bookcase shut behind them.
I go over to the screen, put my eye back in, and set the others back on their projection stands.
I open the desk drawer and shove the Glock out of the way. That needs to go in the bedroom drawer with the Smith & Wesson. The Veritas is under some papers where I’d scrawled Hellion power charms. I found the originals stuck in an old notebook Samael tossed in the trash. I copied out all the charms and tossed off hoodoo for darkness and wind. I tried getting into the heads of the salarymen downstairs. Nothing. Maybe instead of trying to be Samael, acting like me again will make me better at this Lucifer thing.
I take out the Veritas and toss it, catch it, and slam it down on the table.
Should I go out or stay here?
There’s an image of an open window and billowing curtains. In elegant Hellion script around the edges of the coin, it reads, DON’T WASTE MY TIME, ASSHOLE.
As always, the Veritas is right. I already have my coat on. If it said stay, I’d toss it in the trash and go out anyway.
I go into the false bookcase and head downstairs.
I go down below street level to the garage. The door is locked but I touch the brass plate on the wall and it clicks open.
The place is full of the Council’s limos, plus the legion’s trucks, Unimogs, and Humvees. Why didn’t I ever take any of these out for a late-night cruise? Do my own Dakar Rally through Hollywood. Play Vanishing Point with Hellion street security. Let them chase me all the way to Santa Monica. Hell’s five rivers crash into each other there, churning the water into an endless storm of whitecaps, tidal waves, and whirlpools. At the edge of the sea I’d get out and show them who I am. We could have a drag race all the way back into town.
Tonight, though, I’ll just have to settle for some motocross. Tomorrow, who knows? I could steal a Unimog and drive down the Glory
