back and forth between genders.
“Thank you, Lourdes. That will be all…” Bennie gave her a smoldering look. “For now.”
“Promises, promises.” The werecat purred as she slinked off to see to other customers.
Bennie took a sip of his drink. “Lyra told me you needed my help with something. After what you did for that sweet child, Matt-not to mention what you did to the bastard who killed her-I’m forever in your debt. Whatever you need, just name it.”
I spent the next few minutes giving Bennie the rundown on why we were there.
After winning our freedom from the Wyldwood, Devona and I returned to the Broken Cross, hoping that Shrike might know something about the veinburn dealer Morfran. Shike told us that Morfran was demon kin of a particularly rare insectine subspecies who mated only during a three-week period every year. This was the middle of week two for Morfran. It seemed he’d come into quite a bit of money recently-I could guess how-and that lately he’d been spending a good portion of his funds at the House of Dark Delights. According to Shrike, Morfran had been visiting the House several hours every day.
“Father Dis, do I know him!” Bennie said when I was finished. As I’d talked, she’d switched genders again and was at the moment a woman. “If you look up the word indefatigable in the dictionary, you’ll find only a drawing of that disgusting little bug. But his darkgems are as good as anyone else’s, and he certainly has a lot of them to spend. I’m not sure if he’s here now, though. Descension Day is our busiest time of the year, Matt, and the customers come and go so quickly.” She grinned at her own pun, but quickly grew serious again. “So you think Morfran sold the drug which killed Devona’s brother?”
“According to Gregor, there’s a good chance he did. We need to talk to him, Bennie-and we need him to give us some answers.”
“I see.” Bennie’s scotch glass was empty. She held it up, and Lourdes swooped by to snatch it out of her hand and replace it with a fresh one. Bennie sipped as she thought. Then an idea came to her and she slowly smiled.
‘I think I know how can help you. You know my motto: Better living through chemistry. ” And her smiled became a broad grin.
Devona glanced at the four-sided clock mounted on a metal pole in the middle of the bar. Nekropolis follows standard Earth time: twenty-four hour days, seven-day weeks, twelve-month years-not that it means very much when you live beneath Umbriel’s perpetual dusk and, like me, you don’t need to sleep. Bennie had left us some time ago, to see about one thing or another. A gender-switching brothel owner’s work is never done.
“We’ve been waiting here almost an hour,” she said. “Maybe Morfran’s already left.”
“We’d have seen him.” All of the House’s customers had to pass through the lounge in order to get to and leave the rooms. Bennie didn’t make nearly as much money on booze and drugs as she did sex, but she wanted to squeeze as many darkgems out of her customers as she could before sending them back into the streets, so she made certain her clientele had two opportunities to sit down and have a couple drinks. And, after hoisting a few on their way out, if they decided they’d rested up enough and were ready for another go, why, they could just head right back on through the lounge, and hire themselves some more fun.
I’d heard it said that Bennie is as wealthy as any Darklord. I wouldn’t doubt it.
“Perhaps he left through a rear exit,” Devona said.
“There is no rear exit. Bennie had it bricked over years ago to stop deadbeat customers from sneaking out without paying.” Rumor had it that several such customers had been present-and bound in chains-when the bricks were laid. “Just try to relax.”
“Shrike was probably wrong, and Morfran’s not even here.”
“Bennie sent Lourdes to check for us, remember? He’s downstairs all right-with three girls: one lyke, one Bloodborn, and one demon kin. I can’t begin to imagine the geometric and metamorphic possibilities.”
And before I could add anything more, Morfran finally walked into the lounge.
The demon swaggered like he was, you’ll pardon the expression, cock of the walk. Or in his case, gigantic walking stick of the walk. He was a twig-thin insectine demon, with a carapace resembling fluorescent-red Formica. He had a triangular face something like a praying mantis, with huge eyes like those of a too-pre-cious moppet in a black-velvet painting.
As he scuttled past our table, I said, “Morfran!”
The demon stopped and swiveled his head back to look at me. His expression-assuming his bug face was even capable of making one-was unreadable.
“It’s me, Matt. You remember, I was one of your customers, back when I was alive.”
A few seconds ticked by, then he said, “Oh, yes” in a voice which sounded like a hive full of buzzing bees.
His voice was almost as difficult to read as his face, but I thought he sounded a trifle unsure, as if he knew he didn’t remember me, but thought maybe he should. Exactly the response I wanted.
“Why don’t you sit down and have a drink with us, for old times’ sake?”
His head tilted quickly to one side, then to the other, then back once more, as if he were an insect version of a metronome.
“I don’t know. There is much I should be doing.”
“I’ve heard you’re quite the ladies’ man,” Devona virtually purred. “Three at one time, they say.”
Given his physiognomy, it was impossible for Morfran to puff himself up with pride, but that’s what it looked like.
“Nothing personal, Morfran,” I said, good-naturedly but with plenty of skepticism, “but three at a time? Come on!”
“Yes, three at a time.” He sounded aggrieved. “Not only that, but once a day for nearly two weeks now.”
“Really!” Devona said, leaning toward him and flashing more than a hint of cleavage. “Quite impressive!”
Even without the necessary equipment for facial expression, Morfran still gave the impression of leering at Devona’s chest.
“I don’t know…” I said doubtfully.
Morfran skittered up to our table and, since his body structure wouldn’t allow him to take a seat, at least not comfortably, he stood. “Are you doubting my word, Mark?”
“Matt,” I corrected. I signaled Lourdes and pointed to Morfran. She nodded and padded over to the bar, her tail swishing slowly back and forth, to get him a drink. I noticed Devona frowning at me, and I quickly returned my gaze to Morfran. “I’m not doubting you; I’m just saying that guys exaggerate sometimes, that’s all.”
“I am not exaggerating. It is the nature of my subspecies to be sexually prolific during this time of the year. It is our mating season.”
I tried to imagine just how something so…alien could manage to have sexual congress with one humanoid female, let alone three. But try as I might, I just couldn’t picture it.
Lourdes brought over Morfran’s drink, set it in front of the demon, and gave me another wink before departing with more tail swishing. I really wished she hadn’t winked. I had a feeling I’d be hearing about that later on.
“You mean the rest of the year you don’t…Well, that explains it, then.” I lifted my glass, and Devona did likewise. “Here’s to you, Morfran; you’re a bona fide sex machine.”
“Only for three weeks out of the year,” he said, but he seemed pleased nonetheless. He leaned his head over his drink and a needle-thin organ extended out of his small mouth and dipped into the booze. He drank greedily, with great slurping sips. Within moments, his glass was empty.
“Whoa! You must really have worked up a thirst back there!”
Morfran’s body shivered. His equivalent of a laugh, I think. “One does tend to expend a great deal of fluid during mating.”
I was glad my stomach was as dead as the rest of me; if it wasn’t, it would’ve turned right then.
Morfran’s eyes narrowed. “I must admit that I don’t remember you as clearly as I would like, Mark. You said you were a customer of mine when you were alive? I certainly hope my wares were not the cause of your demise.”
“Actually, I have a confession to make: we’ve never met before.”
His head titled back and forth again, right-left, rightleft, very fast this time,.
