style="font-size:15px;"> All twelve of them file out, right into the other two hounds I stationed outside. It would have been a hoot programming them to eat each Council member as they left. A little counterproductive, though. I need them to do the work I’m sure not going to do. But if I can’t have a little fun being the Devil, why bother?
Now I can get back to figuring out the rest of Lucifer’s power so I can get the hell out of here.
I’VE MADE CIRCUIT after circuit of the empty parts of the hotel. I know Lucifer won’t leave me hanging on half power forever. He likes games. I know there are clues for me around somewhere. But I don’t know all the rules of the game, so I might be looking right at one without knowing it.
When he left he said he’d come back if I ever really needed him. I haven’t heard a goddamn word since. I’ve tried to get a message through to Mr. Muninn. He’s the one guy on Earth I know could come down here if he wanted. I guess he doesn’t. I know why and we’re going to have to have a long talk about it when I get home.
Saint James would have a plan but I’m just prowling relentless, hypnotic halls, floor by floor looking for clues. The windowless corridors could be anywhere. In space on a rocket circling the edge of the universe. Or Donald Trump’s diamond-encrusted submarine at the bottom of the Marianas Trench.
Hellhounds glance up when they see me. I scratch the underside of their glassed-in brains and they growl contentedly. They’re like temple dogs guarding a royal tomb, only here the altars are unused Jacuzzis and Hellion minibars. I don’t even want to think about what’s in those.
Fun as it was busting up the meeting, something real kicked in for me. Something I sort of already knew but couldn’t put into words.
They’ve gone insane down here. Every fucking Hellion has gone mad.
They can’t lay a finger on Heaven and they can’t leave. They’ve been stuck in this hole for what? Thousands of years? A million? Time doesn’t move for angels like it moves for us. They’ve turned inward and created a rat-maze culture. All bureaucracy, schizo rituals, and murderous deadfalls.
Do you think God had a business plan when He created the universe? Did He worry about the invention of light or gravity running over budget?
Meetings and infighting. Made-up ceremonies and new religions and Noble Virtues. This is how you fill up eternity when all you have to look forward to is the clock running down and the universe collapsing in on itself and starting over.
There’s something up ahead. I can’t see it but I can feel it. There’s a set of double doors leading to a meeting room. The opposite wall is blank but there’s something funny about it. It isn’t solid. To these Lucifer eyes, the plaster and paint are cheap sideshow effects. Change the light and you can see right through them. At least the wily bastard left me something useful.
Sooner or later even the nonstop rituals aren’t going to hold and these assholes are going to turn on each other. The biggest baddest civil war ever, until none of them are left. What would Heaven think of that? Probably get a real chuckle out of it. A Hell without Hellions. A real-estate developer’s wet dream. They can sell time-shares, “This two-and-a-half-bath beauty is close to schools, shopping, and on a clear day you can see the dismembered devil corpses floating in the lake of shit.”
The ghost room reminds me of Vidocq’s apartment in L.A. He put hoodoo on the place so no one can see it or remember it, so he hasn’t paid rent in years. But whoever conjured up this blind isn’t ducking bill collectors. This is a lot heavier magic than that.
“I’ve been looking for you, lord.”
Fuck me harder, God. Seriously.
“I’m kind of busy now, Brimborion.”
“I can see. Another busy day of wandering the halls. I hear there are some brick partitions on the third floor where if you stare just right you can see animals and fluffy clouds. Maybe you’d like to wander down there?”
“What do you want? Wait. How did you find me?”
“I stopped by your summer home in the library and had a peep at your peepers.”
I make it to him in half a second, get my fingers around his throat, hoist him off his feet, and hold him against the wall.
“You went into the library without my permission?”
“It was unlocked,” he croaks.
He starts turning blue. And he isn’t lying. I can’t remember setting a sealing spell on the place when I left. Besides, he probably could have walked in anyway with the opening talisman of his. I drop him to the floor and head back down the hall.
“What’s so important you had to dog me down here?”
He gasps for air and waves a crumpled piece of vellum at me. He wants me to come down there and take it but that isn’t going to happen. I wait until he can breathe again.
“It’s the banquet tonight, my lord.”
“What banquet?”
“To celebrate the laying of the City Hall cornerstone.”
“Tell them I can’t make it. I have the flu or the clap. Whatever it is you cloven-hoof types get.”
“But, my lord. You have to bless the banquet.”
More rituals.
“Get Merihim to do it.”
“It’s not his place, my lord.”
“Okay. Then cancel it.”
He scrambles to his feet. The vellum isn’t crumpled anymore. He’s holding on to it like a life preserver.
“You can’t.”
“Then don’t cancel it. I’m putting you in charge. If Merihim can’t do it, find someone who can. I’m busy.”
I walk back in the direction of the fake wall.
I hear him come after me.
“You’ve been obstinate in the past, my lord. But refusing the banquet is beyond acceptable. And I heard that you dismissed the planning committee today.”
He’s right about one thing. I was having so much fun I forgot about politics. Lies and promises. It was goddamn stupid to let that slip.
I turn and he comes up short.
“And you know who Marchosias and a few others think put me up to it?”
“Who?”
“You.”
He takes a step forward.
“Me?”
“Everyone knows you’re paying off half the staff to spy for you. Let you know who’s gaining power and losing power. I’m your power. You control my schedule and who gets to talk to me and see me. You must make a fortune selling my time. Of course, you can’t go too far.
