housebroken, but they don’t treat me any worse than they treat each other. And they only get up to that when you and your compadres aren’t around. That’s when the rowdies come in.”
“If you hear anything interesting, you know what to do.”
“I might be dead and damned for all eternity but I’m not addle-brained. I remember.”
We turn and look at the Council.
He says, “So which one do you figure is going to kill you first?”
“None of them. Semyazah is too disciplined. He saw Hell come apart the last time it didn’t have a Lucifer. I don’t really get a whiff of murder from any of the others. Do you?”
I finish my drink. He pours me another and one for himself.
“Not them directly. But I figure at least one’s scribbling down everything and passing it to whoever’s going to do the actual pigsticking.”
“That’s why I keep the rebuilding slow. Keep the big boys busy and scattered all over. Makes it harder for them to plan my tragic demise.”
“It’s funny hearing blood talk like that. I wasn’t exactly a planner when I was alive and it never crossed my mind anyone else in the family would ever come by the trait.”
“It’s new. Since I moved into Lucifer’s place, I spend a lot of time in the library. I never read anything longer than the back of a video jacket before. I think it’s bent my brain.”
“Books and women’ll do that. Just don’t get to thinking such big thoughts you forget to listen for what’s creeping up behind you.”
“I never read with my back to the door.”
He nods and downs his drink in one gulp.
“All it takes is the one time,” Bill says. He looks past my shoulder. “I think your friends are waiting on you.”
“Later, Wild Bill.”
“Give ’em hell, boy.”
The others look impatient when I get back. For a second, I flash on Candy back in L.A. After knowing each other for almost a year, we’d finally gotten together right before I came down here. Managed to squeeze in two good days together. What would she think of Hell’s ruling elite hanging on my every word? She’d probably laugh her ass off.
“We did all right today. Knowing what you don’t want is about as good as knowing what you do. Let’s meet back here at the same time in three days. That enough time for you to sketch out some ideas, Buer?”
He nods.
“I’ll watch your Metropolis show tonight. And have something for you at the next meeting.”
“That’s it, then. Anyone have any questions. Any thoughts? Any banana-bread recipes to share with the class?”
Nothing. Hell’s a tough room. They gather up papers and notes. Stuff them in leather bags and attaché cases.
“Thanks for coming.”
I head back to the bar, where Wild Bill is already pouring me a drink. I need a smoke. I take out a pack of Maledictions and light one up. It might be Hell but at least you can smoke in the bars.
Bill pours a second drink in a different glass and walks away.
Marchosias is behind me. She does this after meetings sometimes. She says she wants to practice her English. I don’t mind; after three months of speaking nothing but Hellion, my throat feels like I’ve been gargling roofing nails.
She says, “What you said to Buer, that was either very rude or very smart.”
“The Devil gets to be both at once. It’s in the handbook. Look it up.”
“You caught everyone off guard. I’ve never heard you ever mention the Kissi before. Everyone admires how you handled them, you know. Getting others to do your killing is the most elegant way and you did it masterfully.”
In another time and place I’d think she was being sarcastic, but I know she’s not. She gets off on what I did. Why not? I brought the Kissi down here like we were allies, trapped them between Heaven’s armies and Hell’s legions, and wiped out most of them in one big royal rumble. That kind of treachery covers pretty much all of the Seven Noble Virtues. Her making goo-goo eyes at me for it makes me want to punch Marchosias very hard and often.
I say, “I’m usually more of a hands-on guy when it comes to killing.”
“Of course you are. Sandman Slim has an ocean of blood on his hands. ‘The monster who kills monsters,’ isn’t that what they called you in the arena? Now here you are, Lucifer, the greatest monster of them all. Maybe God really does have a sense of humor.”
Her eyes shine when she says it. She loves being this close to the grand marshal of the Underworld parade. She’d like to have Lucifer’s power but the thought of it scares her stupid, which makes it that much more exciting. This is why she stays behind. An intimate tête-à-tête with Satan. It’s not getting her any brownie points with me and she knows it, but it makes the rest of the Council nervous and that makes it fun for her.
I take a long drag on the Malediction like maybe it’ll start a tornado and carry me back home like Dorothy.
“All things considered, I’d rather be in Philadelphia.”
She looks at me and then glances at Wild Bill, not getting the joke. Bill ignores her and wipes down another glass.
“While I have you here, you’ve never told me why you chose me for your council. Or why you decided to create it. Lucifer—”
“The former Lucifer, you mean,” I cut her off. “I’m Lucifer now. That other guy goes by Samael these days and he’s home crashing with Daddy.”
“Pardon me. Samael would never have considered working with anyone but his most trusted generals.”
“Maybe if he’d asked more questions, this place wouldn’t look like a second-rate Hiroshima. I don’t have a problem with getting advice from smart people. And to answer your question, Samael recommended you.”
“I’m honored.”
She glances over her shoulder. The others are all outside. She’s enjoying making them wait.
I say, “Your English is getting better.”
“So is your Hellion. You’ve lost most of your accent.”
“Someone told me I sounded like a hick.”
“Not that bad. But you’ve become more dignified, in every way.”
“I’ll have to watch that. Dignity gives me gas.”
Over by the door of the bar someone says, “Are you ready to go, Lucifer?”
It’s a military cop named Vetis. He runs my security squad. He’s a mother-hen pain in
