“Damn. I never did learn to tell the difference with Hellions. ’Course they’re all pig-fucking sons of bitches to me, so what do I care if I guess wrong and hurt their feelings?”
I don’t think running a bar was ever Bill’s dream job and he’s not exactly the type to throw around a lot of thank-yous, but I know he likes it better here than in Butcher Valley. Bill died in 1876, was damned, and he’s been fighting hand to hand with other killers and shootists in that punishment hellhole ever since. Taking him out was the least I could do for family.
“Is anyone giving you trouble? Do they know who you run the place for?”
“I expect everyone’s aware by now. Which don’t make me particularly happy. I’m not used to another man fighting my battles for me.”
“Think of it this way. This setup isn’t just about me having a place to drink. It’s about showing the blue bloods who’s in charge. If anyone hassles you, it means they’re hassling me, and I need to do something loud and messy about it.”
He puffs his cigar and sets it on the edge of the bar. There are scorch marks all over the wood.
“Sounds like it’s hard work playing Old Nick. I don’t envy you.”
“I don’t envy me either. And you didn’t answer my questions.”
He’s silent for a moment, still annoyed that I’m asking about his well-being.
“No. No one in particular’s been causing me grief. These lizardy bastards ain’t exactly 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.”