Ballistic Kiss (Sandman Slim 11) - Page 31

The big guy takes a breath.

“Look, man. I’m just doing my job. Don’t be a dick.”

He’s right. I am being a dick, and I was a dick when I drove to Malibu the other day. I’ve probably used up my dick allowance for the month. I pinch off the lit end of the Malediction and put the unsmoked half in the pack, then head back inside the shack, the security meat close behind. The big guy from outside leads me into a marbled office the size of Indiana. Abbot is sitting at a large partners desk. Even so, he looks ridiculous in the enormous space.

“I’m glad you found a place to park your solid-gold blimp,” I say. “Wouldn’t want to leave that kind of thing on the street.”

Abbot looks around and makes a face.

“It is a bit much, isn’t it?”

“Not if you’re the pope.”

“Luckily, it’s just a loaner.”

“From Superman, right? I thought the Fortress of Solitude was farther north.”

“Come on. We just talked about this,” says the security guy.

I hold up a hand. “You’re right. I just have an allergy to stuff like this. You don’t?”

He glances at Abbot.

“I’m happy to protect the Augur wherever he is.”

“But you wouldn’t live in a place like this.”

He looks straight ahead but mumbles, “Hell no.”

Abbot laces his fingers together.

“Are you finished critiquing the décor, Stark? I told you this was serious.”

“Ghosts, right? I still don’t know why you want me. Are you telling me that between you and the wind chime squad from San Francisco you couldn’t clear the place out?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

“Huh. That’s actually interesting. Still, what do you want me for?”

“No conventional thaumaturgic systems we’ve tried have budged the spirits. It’s time for you to use Hellion methods.”

I lean back in the chair.

“Why not? I finished all my movies and ate most of the yule log.”

His eyes narrow.

“You have a yule log?”

“Yeah.”

The guard tsks under his breath.

Abbot says, “Stark, it’s summer.”

“That’s what people keep telling me.”

He waves the yule log away and says, “The spirits appear about an hour after sunset. They’re vicious. We don’t know how many civilians they’ve killed or how many are still alive and in hiding. We’ve cordoned off the neighborhood with wards and charms, but the spirits are powerful. They keep pushing at the edges of the boundary. I don’t know how long we can contain them.”

Tags: Richard Kadrey Sandman Slim Fantasy
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