job.”
“You’d be dead had I not been there.”
“Or I’d be alive with all that pay.”
“Looks like we’ll have to agree to disagree.”
“Just stay out of my way this time, Nurse.”
The gnome sat there, gently rapping his gloved fingers against his knees.
“And if I interfere with your precious kill, Azazel?”
The Ashborn stood, his chain in his hands. He looked menacing. But the gnome appeared to keep his composure. Black eyes blazed. He was right; you could see Hell in that gaze.
“Then I will start with your toes and work my way up, breaking every god damned bone in your pathetic little body.” The pale one settled back into his chair. “Don’t fuck with me this time, Nurse.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Is your pissing match finished yet?” asked Dak’n.
“Watch your words,” came the heavenly voice of a woman.
“Azazel’s temper is legendary,” echoed another feminine song.
The gnome. Mortus. The cannibal.
“Sorry, Azazel,” came his muffled words. His voice was deep, the kind of voice someone much taller should have. “But business is business.”
He stepped over the bodies of the Daimio and Ashborn. I was still bouncing, still itching to put my balled fists on something. Surely I could take the gnome in a fair fight. Although, it wouldn’t really be fair, what with me being about four feet taller than him.
“Please, boy. You can stop that infernal movement. I will not be fighting you.” Way to spoil my fun, asshole.
“Then what do you want?”
“That seems obvious.”
“You would be the fourth individual come to kill me tonight, third that I was expecting. So how about we not have the playful banter or the threats, and we just get on with the bloodletting? That okay with you?”
“I do so enjoy monologuing to my victims,” he said. I could swear he was smiling underneath that fucking surgical mask. “But if you insist.”
His hand moved faster than I was expecting. The syringe hit home, hitting me right in the heart. He pushed the plunger slowly, letting me feel as the sickly green liquid pumped into my chest. Damnit. Shouldn’t have let him get this close. Having finished, he removed the empty syringe from my bloodstream.
“Do you know what this is? What is now flowing through your veins?”
I shook my head no. He chuckled slightly as my knees gave out. Suddenly I was on my knees. But only for a second. Then I slumped to the right, landing on my side. I couldn’t stop myself from drooling. Fuck.
“It’s quite a marvelous chemical compound. First,” he said, holding up on finger, “it deteriorates muscle control. It takes away your ability to move. Second”-two fingers now-“it dulls your brain, until the only thoughts you are capable of are primal, need based. And finally, it fires up your nerve endings, allowing you to feel everything that I do to your body on a molecular level.”
I may have moaned at this point in his speech.
“I am going to cut you apart. Slowly. Tear flesh from bone. Slice muscle into tiny slivers. Then I’m going to nurse you back to health. And do it all over again. Until I grow bored. At which point, I will just eat your remains. Let’s get to it, shall we?”
He grabbed my ankle, hoping to drag me back into my apartment.
“Just one little hiccup in your plan there, ya shit head.”
His mouth probably dropped open. Wish I could have seen it.
“You…how are you…able to speak?” he asked very slowly.
“I’m not.”
“Wha-“
“Look at my mouth.”
He then noticed it wasn’t moving, that the sound of my voice was coming from behind him. I bet his eyes were full of terror. Fucking glasses. Then the hallway got dark; all that could be seen was the two of us. No bodies, no walls. Just myself and him, the two of us standing. And me lying on the ground. And him putting another syringe to the throat of the prone me. The prone me standing up. And picking up the other him by the shoulders.
“I don’t understand!” he wailed, watching himself being beaten mercilessly.
“It’s quite simple,” I explained. “We’re inside your head, watching me kick your pathetic ass.”
All he could see was my face now, my smile.
“I manipulated you. Telepathically. In case that wasn’t clear. I made you give me the antidote. I made you wait while it took effect. Then I killed you. I wanted you to watch as I killed you.”
His head lolled back. God, I needed a drink.
Two beautiful women strode in through the open door. It closed as they found their ways to their seats. Raven black hair cascaded down one’s back, the one wearing the tight leather corset and matching leather pants; the purple material covered enough of her ample bosom to allow her to claim modesty. But enough was visible to make men’s mouths water. Her blue eyes seemed to shine in the dark, radiating out of her pale face. Her companion, by contrast had short, wild blonde hair. It stuck up at strange angles, accenting her pointed chin and high cheek bones. Her leather garments were just as revealing, only of a deep red hue. They seemed a mismatched pair. But they were deadly none the less.
“Now that everyone is here,” said the fat fuck, “This little meeting can begin” He took a seat behind his oaken desk, settling into his troll-skin chair. “I am sure you are all wondering why I have requested your services.”
They nodded or grunted or voiced their ascents.
“Very well then,” he began. “I need someone dead. Though that seems obvious. You are all renowned for your prowess in making others disappear. You are the best of the best at dealing death. It really isn’t a question of why you are here, but a question of who you will be hunting.”
“Get on it with it, Royce,” Dak’n the elf interrupted. The boss stood and slammed his hands onto the desk. His fat face jiggled from the effort.
“It’s my son!” he yelled, his effort causing him to be flushed. “My fucking little son who is so ungrateful and needs to be taught a lesson. He has stolen from me, from his family and run off. Family or not, the price for crossing Royce is death! So I want Judas dead!” He slammed his fist back onto the desk.
“So…what?” the Ashborn asked. “You want us to work together? And get a six way split?”
“I don’t care!” yelled the fat fuck. “I don’t care if you all kill him, or if only one of you does! Just so long as it gets done. Ten million spira to whoever brings that good for nothing brat’s head to me on a plate.”
Dak’n gasped. The Daimio showed no emotion. The Ashborn whistled. The mortician kicked his legs in glee. The ladies smiled.
With their orders fresh in their minds, the assassins left. I closed the door behind them. Now for the waiting game.
I was still groggy from the gnome’s fucking concoction. But there was shit to do. Like drag three more bodies into my ever shrinking bathroom. Like place all their weapons and armor and tools in my fucking closet. Like make sure the gems I had stolen from Royce were where I said they’d be. And most importantly, make sure I torched the fucking book.
Having gotten my chores done, I headed downstairs to the bar. Without a shirt. Just my leather jacket, torn up jeans, and old sneakers. It’s not like Lurch would really care if I didn’t have a shirt. Hell, one time I walked into his bar naked. He just handed me a drink and had someone escort me upstairs.
“The building falling down?” he asked from behind his beard as I sat down at his bar.
“Everything is under control,” I lied. “I swear I have this taken care of.”
“Last time you said that, half the patrons here threw up tentacled demons that nearly destroyed the fucking place.”
“And I said I was sorry. Just give me a beer, will ya?”
“Just don’t want any surprises, is all,” Lurch commented as he handed me my beverage.
“Like I said,” I replied as I turned to face the entrance, “everything is under control.”
I poured three beers down my throat before she happened to show up. At least my hangover was cured. Definitely one of the hottest chicks I had ever seen. She sat down next to me, her blue eyes trying in vain to find their way to my soul.
“Layla,” I greeted.
“Judas,” she responded. “I take it everything is done?”
“All according to plan. Bodies in the bathroom. Equipment in the closet. Gems in the kitchen. Next time let me know there is an elf among the bunch. Wasn’t expecting him.”
“And the book?”
“Burned. As promised.”
“Did you read from it?”
I downed my fourth beer, let my grey eyes search for her soul. When I knew I had found it, I grabbed her face and kissed her. Our lips touched; our minds melded. She watched me read the tome, glean from it all its secrets. She saw as it tore me to pieces and rebuilt me as it saw fit. She witnessed me burning the old book, so nobody else could be what I am. She sighed as our lips broke apart.
“Of course I did, toots.”
“Kaylee will be upset.”
“About the book?” I asked. “Or about the kiss?”
She thought for a moment. I stared at the cleavage peeking out from her purple corset.
“Both,” she finally replied. “And unless you’re going to do something, don’t stare at my chest.”
“Maybe later. You should bring Kaylee along next time.”
“She’s taking care of other arrangements.”
“Then I guess I should be going,” I said to another woman I would not get a chance with. “Thanks for your