Dead Beat (24 page)

Butters nodded at me, compassion and empathy all over his face. "Oh. Okay, sure."

"I'm not!"

Butters raised his hands. "It wasn't my place to intrude," he said. "Later, some other time, maybe. None of my business."

"Oh, for crying out loud," I muttered.

Thomas came out bearing plates of steaming, reheated pizza, some roast beef sandwiches, and crackers with slices of cheese partly melted on them. He put them down and came back with bottles of cold beer and cups of hot tea. He poured my tea for me, then leaned over and gave me a chaste kiss on the hair. "There you go."

Butters pretended not to notice.

I punched Thomas awkwardly in the ribs. "Give me the damned pizza before I kill you."

Thomas sighed and confided to Butters, "He gets like this sometimes."

I grabbed the pizza from Thomas, and leaned over enough to snag a beer. Mouse, who had been lying by the front windows staring out at the darkness, got up and came nosing over toward the food.

"Oh, here," Thomas said. "The antibiotics." He put a couple of pills down on my plate.

I growled wordlessly at him, washed them down with a swallow of beer, and fell to eating pizza and roast beef sandwiches and crackers with cheese. I shared a bit with Mouse, every third or fourth bite, until Thomas snagged the last roast beef sandwich and put it on the floor for Mouse to have to himself.

I finished the beer and settled back with the tea afterward. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until I'd started eating. The tea was sweet and just barely cool enough to drink. In the wake of the meal and the evening's excitement, I finally started to feel warm and human again. The pain in my leg faded until it was barely noticeable.

I blinked heavily down at my bandaged leg and said, "Hey."

"Hmmm?" Thomas asked.

"You bastard. Those weren't antibiotics."

"No, they weren't," Thomas said, and without a trace of shame. "They were the painkillers. You idiot. You need to rest before you kill yourself."

"Bastard," I said again. The couch really was very comfortable. I finished my tea over the next several moments. "Maybe you have a point."

"Of course I do," Thomas said. "Oh, here's the antibiotic, by the way." He passed me a single horse pill. I swallowed it with the last of my tea. Thomas set the teacup aside and then helped me to my feet. "Come on. Get a few hours of rest. Then you can figure out your next move."

I grunted. Thomas helped me into one of the darkened bedrooms, and I sank onto a soft bed, too tired to be angry. Too tired to be awake. I vaguely remember stripping out of my shirt and shoes before pulling soft and heavy covers over me. Then there was blessed darkness, warmth, and quiet.

The last thing I thought, before I dropped off to sleep, was that the covers smelled faintly of soap and sunlight and strawberries.

They smelled like Murphy.

Chapter Twenty-five

In the odd dream, I had a hot tub.

I lay back in it, luxuriating, the water churning to a controlled froth by jets that hit it and me from dozens of angles. The water was at that perfect temperature, a little short of scalding my skin, and the heat of it sank into muscle and bone, warming me deliciously and washing away aches and pains.

It was an odd dream, because I have never in my life been in a hot tub.

I opened my eyes and looked slowly around me. The hot tub was set in the floor of what looked like a natural cave. Low, reddish light came from what looked like some kind of moss growing on the stalactites overhead.

That was odd, because I'd never been in a cave like this, either.

"Hello?" I called. My voice bounced around the empty cavern.

I heard the sound of movement, and a woman stepped into sight from behind a rock formation. She was a little taller than average and had hair that fell in a sheet of golden silk to her shoulders. She was dressed in a silken tunic belted with soft rope, both pure white. The outfit neither displayed any impropriety nor allowed anyone looking to ignore the beauty of the body it clothed. Her eyes were of a deep, deep blue, like a sunny October sky, and her skin glowed with wholesome appeal. She was, quite simply, a stunning creature.

"Hello. I thought it was time we had a talk," she said. "You've had a hard day. I thought pleasant surroundings might suit you."

I eyed her for a moment. I was naked, which was good. The surface of the pool had enough in the way of bubbles and froth to be opaque, which was also good. It saved me the embarrassment of my response to her. "Who are you?"

She lifted golden brows in a faint smile, and seated herself beside the hot tub, on the floor of the cave, her legs together and to one side, her hands folded on her lap. "Have you not reasoned it yourself by now?"

I stared at her for a long minute and then said, quietly, "Lasciel."

The woman bowed her head, smiling in acknowledgment. "Indeed."

"You can't be here," I said. "I sealed you into the floor under my lab. I imprisoned you."

"Indeed you did," the woman said. "What you see here is not my true self, as such. Think of me as a reflection of the true Lasciel who resides within your mind."

"As a what?"

"When you chose to touch the coin, you accepted this form of my awareness within you," Lasciel said. "I am an imprint. A copy."

I swallowed. "You live in my head. And you can talk to me?"

"I can now," Lasciel said. "Now that you have chosen to employ what I have offered you."

I took in a deep breath. "Hellfire. I used Hellfire today to empower my magic."

"You made the conscious choice to do so," she said. "And as a result, I can now appear to your conscious mind." She smiled. "Actually, I've been looking forward to meeting you. You are a great deal more interesting than most I have been given to."

"You, uh," I said, "you don't look much like a demon."

"Keep in mind, please, that I was not always a resident of Hell. I relocated there." She looked at herself. "Shall I add the wings? A harp? A golden halo?"

"Why are you asking me?" I asked.

"Because I am something of a guest," she said. "It costs me nothing to take on an appearance that pleases my host."

"Uh-huh," I said. "If you're my guest, then get out."

She laughed, and there was nothing alluring or musical about it. It was just laughter, warm and genuine. "That isn't possible, I'm afraid. By taking the coin, you invited me in. You cannot simply will me away."

"Fine," I said. "This is a dream. I'll wake up. See ya."

I made the simple effort of will required to wake myself from a dream.

And nothing happened.

"Maybe it's the painkillers," Lasciel suggested. "And you were, after all, very tired. It looks like we'll be spending a little time together."

I glared for a while. I don't usually take the time to glower at things in dreams, either. "What do you want?" I said.

"To make you an offer," she said.

"The answer is no," I said. "We now return me to my regularly scheduled dream."

She pursed her lips, then smiled again. "I think you want to hear me out," she said. "This is your dream, after all. If you truly wished me to begone, don't you think you could make it so?"

"Maybe it's the hot tub," I suggested.

"I saw that you'd never experienced one," Lasciel said. She dipped a toe into the pool and smiled. "I have, often. Do you like it?"

"It's okay," I said, and tried to look like I didn't think it was just about the nicest thing ever for an aching and tired body. "You know what I know, eh?"

"I exist within your mind," she said. "I see what you see. Feel what you feel. I learn what you learn—and quite a bit more besides."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I said.

"That I can do you a great deal of good," she said. "I have the knowledge and memory of two thousand years of life upon this world, and infinite thousands outside it. I know many things that could be of use to you. I can advise you. Teach you secrets of your craft never known to mortalkind. Show you sights no human has ever seen. Share with you memory and image beyond anything you could imagine."

"By any chance does all of this knowledge and power and good advice come for only three easy installments of nineteen ninety-five plus shipping and handling?"

The fallen angel arched a golden brow at me.

"Or maybe it comes with a bonus set of knives tough enough to saw through a nail, yet still cut tomatoes like
this
."

She regarded me steadily and said, "You aren't nearly as funny as you think you are."

"I had to come up with some kind of response to your offer to corrupt and enslave me. Bad jokes seemed perfectly appropriate, because I can only assume that you've got to be kidding."

Lasciel pursed her lips, a thoughtful expression. It made me start thinking about how soft her mouth looked, for example. "Is that what you think I want? A slave?"

"I got a look at how you guys work," I said.

"You're referring to Ursiel's previous host, yes?"

"Yes. He was insane. Broken. I'm not eager to give it a whirl for myself."

Lasciel rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Ursiel is a mindless thug. He doesn't care what happens to the holder of his coin, provided he gets to taste blood as often as possible. I don't operate that way."

"Sure you don't."

She shrugged. "Your derision will not unmake the truth. Some of my kindred prefer domination in their relationships with mortals. The wiser among us, though, find a mutual partnership to be much more practical, and beneficial for both parties. You saw something of how Nicodemus functions with Anduriel, did you not?"

"No offense, but I would shove a sharpened length of rebar into one ear and out the other if I thought I was going to turn into anything like Nicodemus."

Her expression registered surprise. "Why?"

"Because he's a monster," I said.

Lasciel shook her head. "Perhaps from your perspective. But you know very little of him and his goals."

"I know he did his damnedest, literally, to kill me and two of my friends, and God knows how many innocent people with that plague. And he
did
kill another friend."

"What is your point?" Lasciel asked. She seemed genuinely confused.

"The point is that he crossed the line, and I'm never going to play on his team. He doesn't get understanding or sympathy anymore. Not from me. He's got payback coming."

"You wish to destroy him?"

"In a perfect world he would vanish off the face of the earth and I would never hear of him again," I said. "But I'll take whatever I can get."

She absorbed that for a few moments, and then nodded slowly. "Very well," she said. "I will depart. But let me leave you with a thought?"

"As long as you leave."

She smiled, rising. "I understand your refusal to allow another to control your life. It's a poisonous, repugnant notion to think of someone who would dictate your every move, impose upon you a code of behavior you could not accept, and refuse to allow you choice, expression, and the pursuit of your own heart's purpose."

"Pretty much," I said.

The fallen angel smiled. "Then believe me when I say that I know
precisely
how you feel. All of the Fallen do."

A little cold spot formed in the pit of my stomach, despite the hot tub. I shifted uncomfortably in the water.

"We have that in common, wizard," Lasciel said. "You've no reason to believe me, but consider for a moment the possibility that I am sincere in my offer. I could do a great deal to help you—and you could continue to live your life on your own terms, and in accordance with your own values. I could help you be ten times the force for good that you already are."

"With that power, I should have power too great and terrible. And over me the Ring would gain a power still greater and more deadly," I said.

"Gandalf to Frodo," the demon said, smiling. "But I am not sure the metaphor is applicable. You needn't actually take up the coin, if it did not suit you to do so. The aid I can offer you in this shadow form is far more limited than if you took up the coin, but it is not inconsiderable."

"Ring, coin, whatever. The physical object is only a symbol in any case—a symbol for power."

"I merely offer you the benefit of my knowledge and experience," she said.

"Yes," I said. "Power. I've already got more than I'm comfortable with."

"Which is the foremost reason that you, of all people, are capable of wielding it responsibly."

"Maybe I am," I said. "Maybe not. I know how it works, Lasciel. The first taste is free. The price goes up down the line."

She watched me with luminous blue eyes.

"See, if I start leaning on you now, how long is it going to be before I decide that I need more of your help? How long before I start digging up the concrete in my lab because I think I need your coin in order to survive?"

"And?" she asked quietly. "If you
do
need it to survive?"

I sat in the swirling hot waters and sighed. Then I closed my eyes, made an effort of will, and reshaped the dream we stood within, so that the hot tub was gone and I stood dressed and facing her on a solid cavern floor. "If it comes to that, I hope I die with a little bit of style. Because I'm not going to sign on with Downbelow. Not even in hell's Foreign Legion."

"Fascinating," Lasciel said. She smiled at me.

My God, it was beautiful. It wasn't merely physical loveliness or the appearance of warmth. It was the whole sense of her, the vibrant, glowing
life
of the being before me, a life with energy enough to ignite a star. Seeing her smile was like watching the sun rise on the very first morning, like feeling the caress of the first breeze of the first spring. It made me want to laugh and run and spin around in it, like the sunny days of a childhood I could only dimly remember.

But I held myself back. Beauty can be dangerous, and fire, though lovely, can burn and kill when not treated with respect. I faced the fallen angel cautiously, my posture unthreatening but unbowed. I faced her beauty and felt the radiant warmth of her presence and held myself from reaching out for it.

"I'm not fascinating," I said. "I am what I am. It isn't perfect, but it's mine. I'm not making deals with you."

Lasciel nodded, her expression thoughtful. "You've been burned in bargains past, and you have no desire to repeat the experience. You are wary of dealing with me and those like me—and for good reason. I don't think I would have had any lasting respect for you, had you accepted my offer at face value—even though it is genuine."

"Gee. I would have felt crushed by your lack of respect."

She laughed with a lot of belly in it, genuinely pleased. "I admire your will. Your defiance. As something of a defiant being myself, I think we might forge a strong partnership, given time to develop it."

"That won't happen," I said. "I want you to leave."

"Get thee behind me?" she asked.

"Something like that."

She bowed her head. "As you wish, my host. I request that you merely consider my offer. Should you wish to converse with me again, you have only to call my name."

"I won't," I said.

"As it pleases you," she said.

Then she was gone, and the dream cavern was darker and lonelier for her absence. I relaxed and went back to my sleep and my solitary dreams.

I was too tired to remember if any of them had a hot tub.