Infernal Investigations

Captain Malstein’s face had what some would charitably call flavor, and what others would uncharitably call a life of not knowing when to duck.

Reality lay somewhere in the middle. You were never going to dodge everything life threw your way, something would inevitably make its way through. It was about knowing how to make the wound something you could patch up and struggle through, to stitch or seal, then struggle back to your hooves and keep on pushing.

Until the point where your seams went and spilled your guts all over the cold, cold street.

What a morbid thought, matched with such a morbid look from the good Watch Captain. Only amplified by that set of acquired scars, which some might call rugged if they weren’t matched by a very annoyed-looking grimace.

A bit of a shock, actually; he was usually the model of professionalism, even when telling me he considered me accountable for a friend’s death. Maybe it was because he was off the clock?

How to start? Should I offer the bribe first, or try to make small talk, or just lay out my demands? My fingers twitched. This was going to end with me in the Coffin, whether it went well or poorly, just a question of how long to get there. Too late to be asking foolish questions about whether I wanted to end up there.

I needed to finish some loose ends in my life, and then, well, I couldn’t say I didn’t deserve it. Life gave me a graveyard of reasons why.

The silence continued, then finally Malstein glanced up from a menu the bartender had put on the table. A second later, they dipped back down to the menu, and he spoke.

“Harrow, you seem to have turned yourself into a fish.”

Suddenly, the prospect of just being tossed in the Coffin felt a lot more pleasant than having this conversation.

“Surely something a little more respectable than a fish, Captain,” I said with a polite but strained smile. “A shark, maybe. Or an octopus.”

That last one was a bit of a stretch, but I was not going to deal with even more people accusing me of being a fish.

“Harrow, you look like a fish. Better start getting used to it and make your peace with it.”

I smiled. “Miss Harrow, please, Captain.”

“Harrow,” he said insistently, tone resigned. “I’d ask how you found this place, but I feel it would be an exercise in futility.”

“I had you tailed,” I admitted cheerfully. “If you failed to notice it, I’ll have to tip the people involved; they more than succeeded at their duties then.”

How I normally would have done it, by which I meant find and tip them directly, not deliver coin to Varrow that would mostly go into his own pocket with a mere pittance reaching the people who did the actual work. His usefulness, my pity, and my tossing work his way out of nostalgia did not blind me to my teacher’s greed.

I was not going to admit I’d gotten his location from someone who’d called me ‘a terrible fate on two hooves’ before screaming at me from his barrel to move. I’d blocked his sun, apparently.

Then screamed again about the sun blinding him. Right as a cloud passed between him and it.

Frankly? The less I thought about the mess that was getting a chicken for him, the better.

“And of course you would attach yourself to her,” Malstein growled, glaring at Taiva, who, unlike Larek, still hadn’t left. “What do you two want?”

“Ask her, apparently I’m her minion,” Taiva said, inclining their head to me.

“I threatened them with it,” I told him. “They and Larek. I’m not taking responsibility for them not taking that seriously. You should, by the way, the last duo that signed up are dead.”

What was supposed to be a smile at the end of that curdled as I let that thought brew.

“Taiva, get away from my table, or I’ll have you tailed by someone for a whole month,” Malstein said tiredly. “I’m sure they’ll find you doing something worth a Coffin cell.”

“And as always, nothing capable of keeping me in there,” Taiva replied pleasantly, getting up from their chair. “I’d hardly want to interrupt clearly private business. Captain, Miss Harrow, a good day to you both. Don’t be talked into something truly moronic, please?”

They ruined that politiness a little with their new seat being a gargantuan three feet away from the edge of our table. They were even obviously leaning in towards us to not to miss a word.

They had better not be Tagashin. I did not need to be dragged out of my own ideas, however poorly conceived they were.

Malstein sat down, relaxing in his chair while taking his coat off, checking his watch, waving for the bartender to come over, ordering food and drink, and then finally, with a resigned sigh, looked at where I continued to patiently sit.

“I don’t suppose telling you to go away and leave me to my peace will accomplish anything?”

“It will,” I said. “I’ll go away, but it does mean I’ll have to rely on alternate methods for what I have planned. Or you could just hear me out and decide for-”

“Threatening some kind of chaos if I don’t hear you out is not very persuasive,” Malstein said. “Actually, very much the opposite. Do you want to be arrested on suspicion before I’ve even gotten my food, Harrow? Because if you do force me to spend time before my meal on paperwork, you can’t imagine the torments in store for you.”

“Captain,” I said chidingly, a small smile on my face. “After one has had their fingers cut off for the first time, it loses a lot of the impact on repeat visits.”

Malstein grimaced. Ah, that curious disapproval of the good Colonel Colgraves again, such a distinctly refreshing thing among Watch Officers.

Joy, I’d have to deal with him by the end of all this. Maybe. Hopefully not, since I shouldn’t need his services. Torture was one thing, but the man’s insistence on the most idiotic of puns made even scraping of flesh from bone much more painful.

Yes, I was downplaying future pain to myself. Truly a good sign that I was making the right choice.

“You could have scheduled this,” Malstein said gruffly. “I have an office, Harrow. A private booth somewhere would fit this better than some ambush on me when I want simply to eat and then sleep.”

“Do Watchmen ever really sleep?” I asked him, then shook my head. “My apologies, Captain, but I felt this was a better place than any other to do this.”

Because he could say no. Or Intelligence could catch on and interfere if it was anything too planned out. Or Malstein could simply take what I’d offer and leave me with nothing in the end.

Malstein shook his head, pulled out a two-sided coin. I raised an eyebrow seeing it. I could feel the magic coming off that thing, thick and powerful.

“Heads-side up,” he said, placing it on the center of the table, and suddenly all other noise became muffled. At her seat, Taiva pouted, trying to lean a little further, only to stop seeing Malstein’s glower.

“You seem fairly confident that it is working quite well in an open space,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

Sound-dampening charms would always work on blocking eavesdroppers to some extent, but places with nothing naturally blocking the sound were the worst places for them. And that was before factoring in those who could read lips.

“You’re interrupting my dinner,” Malstein said curtly. “I’d appreciate the small talk being kept to a minimum.”

“Very well,” I said. “I’d like to hire you, Captain Malstein.”

The bartender came out now, carrying a steaming bowl of soup along with a tankard of something dark, smelling of flowers and honey. Pork, potatoes, and carrots floated inside, along with other vegetables; its own smell making my mouth water.

Really? I’d already eaten twice today! And the rat!

Malstein dipped a large spoon in, blowing on everything to cool it down before deigning to answer me.

“Bribing an officer of the Watch is five years in the Coffin, Harrow. I’d reconsider before offering that again.”

And with that, he turned his attention to his food.

“Not bribery, Captain,” I told him as he savored the taste of his soup. “Employment for Watch work. Unless your current caseload is too large to take on any additions?”

Finishing his first mouthful, he took even longer this time to answer my question, finally sighing before staring directly at me.

“You seem quite certain it isn’t,” he said tiredly, setting his food down.

“You don’t have to stop eating?” I suggested, and anger flared in his eyes.

“You’ve won Harrow. You have my attention. Please stop prodding me over it.”

I winced. “I didn’t mean to. But yes, I doubt you are very busy. The head of a secret watch unit, recently decorated and on the way up, just happens to be nearby with a unit as people involved in the recent priest killings? I’m honestly shocked you were that obvious.”

Malstein grunted. “I am supposed to keep assets of Her Majesty alive, and Walston needed a reminder that you couldn’t just disappear. At least not without others seeing that you were alive and well.”

“Appreciated,” I said. “I must admit, I don’t know if it was me, Slayer Derrick, or Forcreek you were specifically watching over in that case.”

“Keep wondering,” Malstein said, then took a bite of the stew. “I suppose this is about that case?”

“Walston doesn’t trust me,” I said. “Tried to kill me, although that is not an official accusation.”

I had very little doubt about how people would consider an accusation from me. Passing interest at best, outside of Intelligence, maybe delivering a message to cease any other attempts. If I remained an asset, they considered worth preserving.

“The Watch is aware of the apathy, but of course, no officer would ever pursue justice outside of the legal system,” said the man who minutes ago had talked about giving Walston a reminder not to do just that. “So the Watch liaison doesn’t like you. Did that prove an issue in your previous cases?”

“At the risk of flattering your ego, Captain, you were much more professional,” I replied. “But in truth, I think I can actually trust Captain Walston the most of anyone involved in this.”

“Let me guess, being hated is simpler and easier than trying to ferret out people who don’t just dislike you?” Malstein said gruffly.

“Something like that,” I admitted. “It’s easier knowing where people stand than getting tangled up in webs of deceit, don’t you agree?”

“Yes,” Malstein said. “That usually requires not getting into the web yourself.”

He waved the bartender over, and I fell silent as the man entered within the sound-dampening charms’ effects.

“Another round for me, and get her some tea, please,” Malstein said. “I’ll pay.”

“No need for that,” I said cheerily. “I can afford some.”

The bartender nodded, then told me, “Eighteen shillings for a cup.”

I froze, hand in my coin pouch.

“Recent price change?” I asked the bartender.

“The ‘flation,” he said gruffly, crossing his arms. “Been rough on all of us.”

“I can certainly believe that, if it’s caused prices to go up to five times what they were five seconds ago,” I replied, to very little reaction.

He stared back with the firm steadiness of someone who wasn’t ashamed of screwing you over.

Keeping my grumbling internal, I forked over the shillings for a cup.

“What lovely company you keep,” I muttered.

“How high is the average body count among the group you’ve been putting together again?” Malstein said.

“Not too high, I’m sure,” I said. “Gregory lowers it quite a bit. Varrow has a mean streak, but unless it’s someone weaker than him or they’re asleep, he won’t slit their throat, and Melissa hasn’t been active for too long yet. Alice raises it quite a lot, though, so..... at least below a hundred? Either way, that’s avoiding the point. I want your help on the current case.”

“No,” Malstein said bluntly. “Not officially assigned, don’t want to get involved, quite happy not being involved. And before you ask, I will deny knowing any details you ask me about. Why would you want my help, anyway?”

“What you said earlier about webs of deceit,” I replied. “I can’t really trust anyone involved in this mess. Not enough of them anyway. So I’m reaching out to people I trust to be themselves.”

Malstein raised an eyebrow. “So, your response to thinking you can’t trust members of the Imperial government is to recruit other members of the Imperial government to help you?”

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“I’m sure it seems insane on the face of it,” I said sheepishly. “That I should trust in your integrity more than that of Voltar or Dawes. The simple answer, Captain, is that I am desperate.”

“So I’m the choice of the desperate, am I?” Malstein said, leaning back in his chair, gaze coldly staring into my own. “Again, not very flattering, Harrow, so unless you have something else to offer, I’m going to say trust in your superiors, who I am quite certain don’t want a Hellgate opening up inside the city.”

“I’m sure they don’t,” I replied quietly. “I’m worried they’re too sure they can stop it, they’ll risk it all to get something else as well.”

New recruits, more ammunition against the church by the end of this, something else I didn’t know about? All of those? Malstein was still silent, and internally, I sighed. Fine. Carrot time.

“I have a story I want to tell,” I announced, and Malstein grunted.

“What did I say about small talk?”

“You just have to listen,” I told him. “So I wouldn’t be interrupting your meal this way. This is a story about a night in the Hells’ Own, when a watch officer was going to meet a junior member of the Black Flame, looking to bring down the Flame.”

Malstein stiffened, barely noticeable, already so ramrod straight you could have missed it if you weren’t looking. Somehow, he forced an extra quarter of an inch out of his spine as his eyes turned frosty.

“Unfortunately for the traitorous member of the Flame, the watch officer, and their partner, someone else in the Flame had known the entire time, and being a naive little idiot, decided to betray the entire lot to her own superiors. And it ended with two dead, and one she thought dead, and paid so little mind to that she didn’t remember running into him about a decade later. Congratulations on your swift ascent up the ranks during those intervening years, Captain.”

Malstein didn’t respond, lips twitching, eyes almost like deep dark voids waiting to consume me, swallow me in cold until limbs tired and blood froze.

“I thought you were a half-orc then,” I whispered. “I wasn’t used to people not human or Infernal in stock, but I’m assuming Danny O’Shea was the other Watchman involved. I wasn’t sure if you lived or died, to be honest. Never thought about it again until recently.”

Malstein stared at me, eyes cold, food forgotten. A hand twitched a few times, and I very deliberately didn’t move at all as he got it under control.

“I nearly died that day,” he finally said, in a tone that made me unconsciously shiver. “Instead, I got lucky, I suppose. Stumbled out of the Hell's Own, leaking in half a dozen places and broken in twice as many. Made it back to the Coffin, nearly died on the operating table. No one had the budget for potions back then. Still barely do, and I might as well have died on that table. Hard to forget that night, much harder for me than it apparently was for you.”

I didn’t say anything in response to that, and he struggled for words himself as I didn’t answer, something dying in his throat multiple times. That composed mask of his crumbled, fell, then he pieced it back together in the span of a few seconds.

“Danny, what happened to him?”

I paused, the words caught in my throat. Should I lie? Tell him some more palatable truth? Pass the blame onto Golvar, already dead, buried, and probably running loose in the Hells down below?

Looking into the captain’s level, piercing gaze, I knew that any kind of lie would be a mistake.

“I killed him,” I said flatly. “I cut off his limbs and summoned a devil into his flesh, which utilized his body and soul for some profane purpose. He was in utter agony every second of it, and there’s a good chance he’s still in utter agony to this very-”

The captain’s spoon snapped, half of it flying off behind me.

“That was not very smart of you,” Malstein said stiffly. “Or kind, or anything inclined to make me think positively of you.”

“It’s the truth,” I said tiredly. “I don’t think lying would have fared very well, would it? How much did you not know or hadn’t guessed?”

“It’s certainly a bizarre idea of persuasion.”

“Blame recent events,” I told him with a strained smile. “I went on a little trip inside my head. Part of a whole bizarre adventure that went even stranger as time went on. I didn’t start sprouting fins and gills out of nowhere. It left me with some thoughts about what I’d done, how much responsibility I’d taken for them. Where to go with it after having a look at how I’d been living down to what someone else had wanted me to be. It’s certainly stuffed some strange thoughts into an already overstuffed head.”

My brother accused me of being a murderous creature incapable of love because that’s what he’d wanted. What he’d sculpted, putting his hands on top of mine and molding wet clay into what he desired. What he wanted. But I couldn’t put the blame for that entirely on him. I’d let him guide my hands.

“So,” Malstein said, tone restrained and unimpressed. “Is this a case of Malvia Harrow going around confessing her sins to the people she’s hurt, and then begging them for help?”

I giggled, and the good Captain winced in response. Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad. Really.

“Captain, I’m not so divorced from the world we live in to think that would work,” I told him.

“Then?”

“I brought something to sweeten the pot in return for your help with that and one other item,” I told the Captain, pulling out several sheets of paper and putting them in front of him.

Eyes narrowed, Malstein looked at the first page, mouthing the words, then his eyes widened and shot to stare at my own.

“What is this?”

A sudden pressure in my head, pushing against my skull, made my smile falter. So. The Imp was still back there, and had picked now to make it clear it wouldn’t appreciate me going back on our deal.

Don’t worry, you damnable thing. You’d get your end of the bargain.

“Self-evident, I thought,” I told him. “It’s my confession, signed by me. This is close to everything I can admit without breaking some oaths I swore earlier.”

“You’re trying to make poorly conceived decisions today, Miss Harrow?” Malstein asked, eyeing further down the first page.

I laughed. “Captain, you have no idea. I’d like to think I’ve danced mostly on the right side of the line I’ve been following all day, but if you told me every one of them had been a mistake, I wouldn’t disagree.”

Oh hells, wouldn’t it just be evil of me for this to be the way to escape the other mess I’d decided to plunge headfirst into today? Sorry, Alice, sorry, Gregory, I can’t resolve my mess with you from a jail cell.

He grunted in response, eyes still scanning the verbiage. “You know I could just take this to my superiors and get you locked in the Coffin? Just for writing this down and signing it.”

“You could,” I said, trying and failing to maintain a grin as it kept on sliding off. “I wouldn’t even hold it against you if you did. But it does leave you down what help I can provide with these items.”

“You are still one of Intelligence’s creatures,” Malstein said thoughtfully, still considering the paper, as if staring would unlock some grand trick among the sentences.

I chuckled bitterly. I couldn’t dispute that in any way, especially the ‘creature’ part of it.

“I am, although I’ve been told my tenure on this case at least will come to a close,” I told him. “However, if they really need me that badly, I’m sure they’ll find some way to pluck me out of your cell. I can’t do much about that on my end, I’m afraid, outside of making a big enough mess that they never want to use me again.”

“And by helping you, I help assure that happens, don’t I?” Malstein said, setting the paper down. “Especially if they are already looking at taking you off this case.”

“Exactly,” I replied. “Consider it a win for both of us that way.”

“A win,” Malstein repeated skeptically, still looking over a page.

“Think of it this way,” I whispered. “You get revenge on the woman who killed your partner. You get her to turn herself in. All of those years trying to find out who killed Dan-”

“Harrow,” Malstein interrupted me evenly, voice cutting me off.

“Yes?” I asked cautiously, my tail twitching towards a dagger on my hip. The Captain’s eyes were fiery, a rage burning in them unlike any I’d ever seen out of him before. The kind of sheer hatred that is usually swiftly followed by a knife to the throat. Every scar on his face had come to life, some of them looking like they were on the verge of reopening.

Everything was silent, with no noise from even outside the sound-dampening charm’s radius. I didn’t look to see what had made the entire room quiet. The feeling that if I did, I’d be dead had firmly seized me by the throat.

“If you mention my partner’s name again, I’m reaching over and gouging your fucking eyes out,” he said, more raw venom in those words than I’d ever heard since our first meeting. “Do we understand each other?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it, reconsidering as he continued to stare at me. He would do it the instant I even hinted at it again.

“What do you want, Harrow?”

“I think I said it already,” I told him. “People I can trust. And the payments necessary to know they’ll see this through.”

He looked down at the pages again. “This seems to be an overpayment for my help.”

“It’s a plot to open a hellgate, Captain,” I told him. “Large problems requires large incentives. And not just payment for the plot with the hellgate. I’ll go to a cell after you help me handle one minor problem. A life that needs ending.”

This time, that anger was the cold kind I was far more used to with the Captain.

“I am not being bribed into letting you trade your life for someone who hasn’t had their day in court.”

“I’m happy to leave it to the court,” I said mildly. “I’ve never had the most faith in their judgment, but this one deserves it. I just don’t think he’ll let anyone take him alive. You know, Captain, I’ve never heard a good reason why Giovanni Versalicci is still alive?”

Malstein stilled, the last spoonful of stew almost to his mouth. My grin widened.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it, Captain? I’m sure plenty of people must have. Her Majesty hardly tolerates anyone being defiant if they aren’t of a certain rank, let alone open rebellion. Yet here comes an Infernal who does it, survives, resurfaces years later and yet is not caught and killed. Why? Because he’s hard to find? And everyone just seems to accept this as a matter of fact.”

“And you claim you know why that’s the case?” Malstein asked, tone slightly incredulous.

I shrugged. “I have my theories. Things I’ve overheard. Nothing concrete, of course. I can hardly produce a contract showing Giovanni Versalicci is an officer of Imperial-“

“Careful,” Malstein rumbled.

My grin widened. “Oh, is that a brief hint that I might be on the right track?”

“No,” Malstein said. “It’s a hint to consider what comes out of your mouth even when you think no one else can hear.”

I shrugged. Either way, my goose was certainly on the way to being cooked, so I didn’t feel the need to hold back. But no reason to put Captain Malstein at risk.

“Either way, I’ve had more than my share of suspicions line up with things I know,” I told Captain Malstein. “And thinking on it further, I don’t consider any of them a potential reason to leave Versalicci a free, unpunished man. Nor anyone responsible for this latest plot.”

“So, you’ve appointed yourself the person responsible for holding them accountable?” Malstein said. “Don’t make me laugh, Harrow.”

“Oh, I was giggling about it earlier today,” I responded furiously. “I imagine they think me a foul and venomous thing, so the mere idea of the collective deities who influence events putting their heads together and deciding that I was the one to try to solve this? They’d have to be mad.”

“I doubt deities have such direct control over how things function,” Malstein replied a bit distantly. “To the benefit of many people, I personally think.”

“The point stands,” I said. “I am utterly ridiculous for this. I am as much a conundrum as Versalicci, although I’d hardly begin to claim I’m anywhere on his level. Someone should have taken care of this far before now, he and it. That some mass murderer has to step up to the plate and handle this because everyone else seems happy to coast along without taking the steps necessary to stop this!”

“People who should be doing everything they can to avert this are seemingly sleepwalking into this.” I hissed. “It would be utterly ridiculous that I have to be the one to step up to handle this, but if it’s that or a Hellgate open, I will take what’s left of my life in a cell to stop it.”

Malstein stared at me, face unreadable as I panted, feeling out of breath and flushed.

“Not really what I was asking,” Malstein said finally. “But it’s good enough. Pass me the papers.”

I laughed as I passed them over. It felt good? Bad? Strange? Like I was suddenly very light as I passed the confession over to him.

“Well, Captain,” I said as he grabbed them. “I look forward to a beautiful, brief partnership and a longer one as warden and-“

Malstein put the center of the papers against the side of the candle’s flame, and they burst alight.

My laugh died in my throat as fire traveled along their surfaces. I lunged forward, trying to grab them, but Malstein casually held them out of my reach. By the time I was out of my chair, they were well on the way to becoming ash.

“Really, offering a confession and practically throwing yourself at my feet begging to be locked up,” Malstein said drily. “I expected….better? Less obvious? We’re not all like Walston, Harrow. Not everyone is so eager to see you in prison as to not question why you’d offer such a disproportionate offer.”

I stared at the swiftly dissolving confession. “I could have sworn there was no trick or trap. I would have! It was nothing more than a payment-“

“Don’t lie to me,” Malstein said bluntly. “Even if it’s just to place yourself in our custody, that doesn’t make it not a trick.”

I giggled, a hysterical edge to my rather horrifying-sounding chuckle. “Captain, it is not a trick. I just gave you a completely harmless way to put me in the Coffin whenever you wanted, no fighting, no drama, just…why?”

The orc considered me for a second.

“Miss Harrow, I assure you this is an act of hatred,” Captain Malstein said. “It appears to me you’ve decided to rediscover that you do, in fact, have a conscience. What kind of man of justice would I be to let you lock yourself away rather than deal with all the ramifications of it?”

A morbid chuckle escaped my lips as I watched the burning scraps of paper. “You have no guarantee I don’t just turn again.”

“If you do, well then, I’ll give you what you seemingly desire. However, some selfish idea that locking yourself away will somehow absolve you of what you did? Nonsense. But until then? I’ll enjoy seeing where whatever sense of right and wrong is trying to grow out of that soul of yours takes you.”

Malstein stood up, his meal finished. “Now for the rest of it, I do think you’ve convinced me. I’ll help you, but I get equal say in what you’re planning. And Harrow? If you’re going to try bribing me, just use money. I think it’ll be less embarrassing for both of us.”

He grabbed the sound-dampening charm, and I was aware of several curious eyes pointed my way.

Taiva came over to us, grinning like a cat, looking Malstein’s way.

“So, Captain, when you told Miss Harrow here that she should just use money, does that mean I can finally-”

“Taiva, I swear to Semiv, I will-”

“Okay, fine, then goodbye, Captain Malstein, and goodbye to Semiv as well-”

“Taiva!”

The good captain stomped out of the room, leaving a waving Taiva, a still stunned me, and the various other patrons who were now returning to their business.

I looked at the ash across the table, then giggled again.

“You know, not to be rude, but that was very unnerving to hear.”

I ignored Taiva, staring at where my plan was flying away, sent airborne by the little burst of wind when Malstein opened the door.

I giggled again. Plan. My plan was to turn myself in to the Watch as a form of penance after trying to tie up what was left of my life, then commit myself to a jail cell? After what, dumping my comatose mother on my relatives or Gregory, killing my brother, fucking over Imperial Intelligence, then retiring to a cell somewhere to be happily miserable doing righteous punishment for the many people I’d killed.

Fuck. Tolman and Gregory were right. I did need to see a psychologist, just for having concocted this ridiculous plan!

“You might want to take a break to breathe? Just a suggestion.”

“Tagashin,” I muttered, turning to face the rogue. “If I find out you did something to convince him, influence him, or anything like that, I will find something to make every last speck of your fur fall off.”

“No idea who that is, and I shave often enough to resent it being called fur,” Taiva said brightly. “Influence the good captain to do what?”

I stared at the smiling face and decided I’d had enough of the atmosphere in here.

***

I only remembered my tea when I was outside, and by then I was in no mood to head back inside. The snow had fully melted by now, which meant clambering up slippery stone while holding onto my dignity. Right into a by now crowded street, the weather was such that people could comfortably go outside. And errands put off throughout the entire day were now being pursued by a hustling and bustling crowd. Among them, one person I recognized.

Tagashin was on the streets, for once not in a blindingly pink outfit, striding forward with a scowl on her face. It was, to give her credit, a very convincing one. Not enough to convince me, as she came to a sudden halt, staring at the sign.

She gave the place a long look, then she turned back to me, her scowl deepening.

“Seriously?”

“Commit to the bit harder,” I told her. “I know you watched and listened to all of it, so-”

“I have been busy keeping two of your friends alive after a devil wearing your face tried to rip their limbs and flesh off, Malvia,” Tagashin snapped, keeping her voice low enough only I could hear, even being right next to her. “Then I came to find you in between doing things for the people holding my leash. All the while, our very kind and warm superiors at Intelligence have been tugging on my very painful leash when they think I’m taking too long. They’re at the same Temple of Tarver you were sending them to, alive but not doing well after a three-faced devil decided to try killing them. Now, I can feel that leash again, so I have to go, but we will talk later!”

And just like that, she was gone, rushing past me before vanishing seamlessly into the crowd before I could muster a word in response.

I…what….The Queen….Alice and Gregory?

My fangs ground against each other. Stupid, stupid, did I think none of the conspirators would strike at us because they hadn’t so far? Worse, I knew both that the fucking thing wearing my face was loose, and that two people walking the streets of the Quarter was already a risky thing to try. Moron! Hands clenched, claws making blood well as something surged to be let-

I breathed out, forcing myself to think of nothing but breathing. Getting angry now wouldn’t hurt it. Pick a time to be angry, when it was at my hooves, pleading for mercy. Then find a dull enough blade to cut out its eyes.

There was a sudden gulf of space between me and the surrounding crowd that I was very grateful for.

So, are we going to talk about what you just did? Or tried to do, I suppose.

I sighed. “Not in the mood.”

That got me a strange look from some people on the street, but I was, for once, far, far beyond caring, even as my skin began to itch.

I think your mood doesn’t matter. I have devoured a little of what you mortals call psychology.

Hells help me. “Devoured?”

I don’t just eat animals. Books are very tasty. Except for those books you like, those are not very filling and taste slightly of paste.

I gritted my fangs. “Not in the mood, Imp. What do those books tell you about those three-faced devils?”

Depends, what do you want to know?

“How to make its flesh boil,” I hissed, barely able to keep my voice low. “Then how to keep it alive when I fracture every bone in it.”