takes out a pack of thin black silver-tipped cigarettes.
“Do you mind?” he asks.
“Damn. Are those Maledictions?”
“Right. You can’t get these up here.” He tosses me the pack. “Keep them. I have more.”
“Thanks.”
I tap a Malediction out of the box, fire it up, and puff. It tastes like a tire fire in a candy factory next door to a strip club. The best cigarettes in the universe.
“I heard a funny story the other day. Doc Kinski told me one about angels and human women and something called a nephilim. He says I might be one. You know anything about that?”
“I know all about Uriel and his disgrace. Do you think an archangel could fall without me knowing? I’d hoped that Heaven would cast him all the way down to me. I would have thrown him a ticker-tape parade.”
“So, he was telling the truth?”
“Of course. I’d heard stories about the nephilim over the centuries, but I’d never seen one. I wasn’t sure they even existed. When the Kissi dropped you down with us, I wasn’t terribly interested. Unlike my brethren, I’d seen more than my share of humans. Then days passed and you refused to die. That’s when you got interesting. I moved you from household to household. Put you in direct conflict with powerful Hellions. Decided who you would fight in the arena.”
“I was your science project.”
“You still are.”
“What does that mean?”
Lucifer looks away and picks up an import DVD of Lucio Fulci’s Zombi.
“This looks fun. May I take it?”
“Happy New Year. It’s yours.”
He throws back the drop cloth and starts going through the stacks of discs on the table.
I say, “I’ve been wondering, just how much of everything since I got back was your doing?”
Lucifer keeps going through the stacks of movies.
“The Veritas aimed me straight at Kasabian. Then some mysterious buyer wanted Muninn to get something for him, only Muninn needed my help and that sent me to Jayne-Anne and Avila, which led me to the Golden Vigil and Mason. Don’t you think that’s an awful lot of coincidences?”
He holds up a copy of To the Devil a Daughter.
I shake my head. “Don’t bother.”
He makes a disappointed face and tosses the disc back onto the pile.
“You’re too hard on yourself, Jimmy” he says. “I’m sure you’re simply a much better detective than you give yourself credit for.”
“Really, I’m not.”
He holds up a copy of L’Inferno, a 1911 silent version of Dante’s Inferno.
“You’ll love that one,” I say. “Why would you tweak things so they ended up with me still alive and Mason in Hell? Either you never saw it coming or you were lying before and you really wanted him Downtown.”
“Why would I want Mason where he’ll cause me the most trouble?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet.”
“Don’t overthink things. It’s not your strong suit. I do have an ulterior motive for coming here tonight, besides raiding your movie collection. Now that you’ve beaten Mason and the Kissi, there’s really no reason for you to be concerned with the Room of Thirteen Doors. I’d like to buy the key from you.”
“How much?”
“Name a figure and don’t be shy. You can be the richest man in the world. The richest man ever.”
“No thanks. Sounds like there’d be a lot of paperwork.”
“If you’re worried about getting hurt, I’m not a butcher like the Kissi. I can take the key out and you won’t feel a thing.”
“But I have a feeling I might need it again sometime. You just said that Mason’s busy conspiring with your generals. I might have to do something about that, and the key came in handy when I had to to kill a few of them. Besides, I’d still like another shot at Mason, so, thanks, but I think I’ll hold on to the key for now.”
“Suit yourself.”
Lucifer turns away. Starts flipping through another pile of discs. I wish angels weren’t so impossible to read. I know that he’s got to be pissed, but I can’t tell how much.
“But I’ll work for you, if you want.”
Lucifer turns and looks at me.
“Strictly freelance. On a case-by-case basis. Cash up front. And I have to not object to the job.”
“Is this the same deal you offered to Aelita?”
“Exactly.”
“All right. But I’d still rather have the key.”
I go to the bathroom and take some pebbles from a pot in the window holding the remains of a dead flower. I take the stones back to the bedroom and hand them to Lucifer.
“You can have these.”
He looks at them and gives me a big, toothy Prince of Darkness smile.
“Seven stones. Seven stones to chase away the devil. Are you trying to prove that you’re not afraid of me, Jimmy? That’s adorable. And how very Old Testament. Don’t tell me that you’ve gone and read a book?”
“I saw it in an old monster movie.”
“Phew.”
Lucifer picks up a stone between his thumb and forefinger, takes my hand, and drops the stone into it.
“Keep it. You just might need it someday, Sandman Slim.”
I don’t know what that means, but the way he says it makes the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.
He looks at his watch.
“I’ve got to run. Thanks for the flickers.”
He gives me a wink and starts down the stairs.
I yell down after him, “You forgot your bowling bag.”
Lucifer looks up at me.
“That’s for you. I wasn’t entirely sure I was going to give it to you, but after you gave me this lovely gift”—he holds up the stones—“I think you deserve it.”
That doesn’t sound good. But if he wanted me dead, he could have done it without me
