“Like what? Your boss?”
“Like a fraud and a coward who plans to desert us the moment he finds a way out of Hell.”
“Damn right. Your war landed you here. Me, I just slipped on a banana peel.”
Marchosias taps a fingernail on the bookcase to get our attention.
“If it helps, we’ve identified the three soldiers who attacked you. They’re from different companies within the legion. We’re interrogating their comrades and senior officers. We’re also interrogating the weapon masters and taking an inventory of the armory to see where they might have found their guns.”
“Great. So you’re going to chat up what, four hundred soldiers who are all going to lie and stick up for their buddies. And how long is it going to take to count every pistol in the armory? How will you even know if you can trust the count? You’d be better off wandering the streets wearing a big sign that says ‘Did You Do It?’ ”
Semyazah lowers his head and half smiles.
“This is the great and terrifying Sandman Slim, the monster who kills monsters? I never thought a feeble attack and a phone call would have you behaving like this. It’s unbecoming for an assassin or the lord of Hell.”
I sit down at the desk and sip my drink.
“Come on, boys and girls. We all know I’m a terrible Lucifer. I only got the job because I killed Mason.”
“Don’t be so modest,” says Marchosias. “No one else could stop him. I mean no slight, General, but if it wasn’t for Stark, Heaven would have laid waste to all of Hell and we’d be dead.”
“So what? Killing Mason doesn’t qualify me to run a muffin stand in a mall. You’re all more qualified to be Lucifer than I am but none of you has the sand to step up and do it.”
Merihim shakes his head.
“This is absurd and insulting. Come. Let’s leave our lord to think his deep thoughts.”
He starts for the door and Semyazah follows. Marchosias rolls her eyes and starts after them.
“Don’t be so hasty,” she says.
I shout some hoodoo and the door seals itself shut.
“We’re having this out right now. Everyone agrees I’m no good. Let’s do something about it. No one leaves until there’s a new Lucifer.”
They stare at me.
“You assholes love your rituals. Let’s try this one on for size. Kill me and you get the job. Wound me and I’ll give up. Trust me. I’m not going to fight hard to stay Lucifer.”
I pull the black blade from behind my back with the Kissi arm. It feels awkward using my left hand, but the effect is worth it.
I hold out the knife to each of them.
“How about it? General? Merihim? Marchosias?”
I throw the blade so it sticks point first in the floor between them.
“Why don’t you all do it together? I can’t possibly take all three of you at once.”
No one moves. Merihim’s body language says he’s somewhere between fainting and doing a Cowardly Lion dive out of the nearest window. Marchosias backs away behind a bust of Lucifer on a short marble pillar.
Semyazah’s eyes narrow. I gave his ego a hotfoot. He looks like he might actually go for the blade.
The moment his shoulder twitches, I kick the desk chair in front of him. He’s quick. The chair catches one of his legs but he still manages to get the knife. Rolling to his feet, he throws it at me. It’s a pretty good shot for someone off balance on a hurt leg. But I’ve had a lot of knives heaved at me over the years. I know what good aim looks like and knife throwing isn’t Semyazah’s specialty. All I have to do is lean back and the knife sails past. Semyazah grabs a metal candle stand, holding it in front of him like a spear.
It’s three fast steps to where he’s planted himself. I drag the desk behind me as I go. Whip it around like a baseball bat, crashing through a bookshelf and catching him on the side. There’s a loud crack as I make contact and he half flies, half slides down the marble floor to the library doors.
Blood flows into my left eye. The crack when I hit Semyazah wasn’t from him or the desk. It was a derringer he’s pulled from his sleeve. The shot grazed the side of my head.