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I reached for the phone again. Dialed.
It rang seven times, then picked up. "Mrph. Gaar. Huck." Sounded like a monkey with horrible bronchitis.
"Hello, Eddie," I said. "Is Gabe there?"
"Murk. Guff. Ack."
I took that to mean "yes." There was the sound of sliding cloth, then Gabriele's breathless voice. "This had… better be good."
"You got some time tonight for me, Spook?" I asked.
More sliding sounds. A thump. Eddie's cheated growl. "Da
"I've got a lead," I said. "On the Slasher case."
Silence crackled through the phone line. Then Gabe sighed. "Midnight, my place?" She didn't sound angry.
"You know I don't have time for a wild-goose chase, Da
"This isn't a wild-goose chase." My jaw ached, I was almost grinding my teeth.
"You have new evidence?" Gabe's voice changed from «friend» to «cop» in under a heartbeat.
"Of a sort," I said. "Nothing that will stand up in court."
"Doesn't follow the rales of paranormal evidence?" She sounded sharp now, sharp and frustrated.
"Come on, Gabe. Don't ride my ass."
The demon paced into the room, carrying the pizza box and two plates. I nodded at him. He stopped dead, watching me.
"Fine." Click of a lighter, long inhale. She must really be pissed. "Come over at midnight. You alone?"
"No," I said. I owed her the truth. "I've got company."
"Living, or dead?"
"Neither."
She took this in. "All right, keep your little secret. Jesus. Fine. Come over around midnight, bring your new thing. We'll take a look at it. Now leave me alone."
"See you soon, Spocarelli."
"Fuck you, Dante." Now she was laughing. I heard Eddie growl another question, and the phone slammed back into the cradle.
I hung up and looked across at the tapestry. Horus shifted, Isis's arm raised, palm-out. The great goddess held the ankh to Her chest, protectively. I saw Anubis's head make a swift downward movement.
As if catching prey.
Well, the gods were with me, at least.
"We've got an appointment in two hours with a friend of mine," I told the demon. "Let's go over the file together beforehand, so we're prepared." Never mind that I'm going to ditch your immortal ass as soon as possible. I had to fight back the urge to giggle again. "Bring the pizza over, share some space." I patted the couch.
He paused for just the briefest moment before pacing across the room, settling next to me on the couch. I laid the file aside and flipped the pizza box open. Half pepperoni, half vegetarian—I took a slice of either, plopped it on my plate. "Help yourself, Jaf." I prodded him, and he took a single slice of pepperoni. Looked at me. "Haven't you ever had pizza before?"
He shook his head, dark hair sleek and slicked-back. His face was blank, like a robotic mask. A muscle twitched in his smooth cheek. Had I somehow violated some complicated demon etiquette?
I folded the vegetarian slice in half, set the open pizza box on the floor, and took a huge bite. Melted cheese, crust, garlic sauce, and chunks of what used to be vegetable matter. "Mmmh," I said, helpfully. The demon took a bite. He chewed, meditatively, swallowed, then took another bite.
I swallowed, tore into another chunk. Licked my fingers clean. Hot grease and cheese. The food made me a little more solid, gave me some ballast. I had three slices in me before I started to slow down and really taste it. I alternated between chunks of pizza and long gulps of less-scorching coffee. The demon copied me, and between us, we polished off the whole gigantic pizza. He ate three-quarters of it.
"You must have been hungry," I said, finally, licking my fingers clean for the last time. "Damn. That was good."
He shrugged. "Unhealthy," he said, but his green eyes shone. "But yes, very good."
"How long has it been for you?" I asked. "I mean, you don't seem like you get out much, you know."
Another shrug. "Mortal years don't mean that much," he said, effectively stopping the conversation. I squashed a flare of irritation. Served me right, for getting personal with a demon.
"Okay, fine," I said. "How about you tell me why Santino doesn't smell like a demon?"
"He does," Jaf replied. "Just not the kind that's allowed out of Hell. Santino's a scavenger, and a plague, one of the Lower Flight of Hell. But he served the Prince well, and was rewarded for it." Jaf popped the last bit of crust in his mouth, his eyes half-lidding. "That reward allowed him to eventually escape the Prince's strictures and come to this world, with the Egg."
"So what's in the Egg?" I might as well ask him now, I thought, I might not get a chance to later.
"The Prince told you it's none of your concern," Jaf said, staring blankly at the pizza box. "Is there more?"
"What, three-quarters of a gigantor pie isn't enough for you?" I stared at him. "Why would breaking the Egg be bad?"
"I've rarely had human food," the demon said, and hunched his shoulders, sinking into the couch. "Vardimal must not be allowed to break the Egg. The repercussions would be exceedingly unpleasant."
I blew out a dissatisfied snort. "Like what?" I asked. "Hellfire, brimstone, plagues, what?"
"Perhaps. Or a
"Great." I toed the empty pizza box. "So what side are you on?"
He shrugged again. "I don't take sides. The Prince points and says that he wants a death, I kill. No philosophy for me."
"So you're on the Prince's side." I wiggled my toes inside my boots, then rocked up to my feet. "You're hungry, huh? That wasn't enough?"
"No." His mouth twisted down on one side.
I scooped up the pizza box and my empty coffee cup. "Okay. Let me see what else I've got. What else do you know about Santino?"
He spread his hands, indicating helplessness. "I can give you his Name, written in our language. Other than that, not much."
"Then what good are you?" Frustration gave my voice an unaccustomed sharp edge. It's usually better to speak softly while a Necromance. Some of us tend to affect a whispery tone after a while. I took a deep breath. "Look, you show up at my door, threaten me, beat up six street punks, drag me through Hell, and finish off the job by eating most of the pizza. The least you can do is give me a little help tracking down this demon-who-isn't."
"I can give you his Name, and can track him within a certain distance. Besides, I am to keep you alive," Japhrimel said. "You might find me useful, after all."
"Lucifer said you had a personal stake in this." I balanced the pizza box in one hand. "Well?"
He said nothing. His eyelids dropped a millimeter or so more over burning green eyes. Lucifer's eyes were lighter, I thought, and shivered. Lighter but more awful.
"You aren't going to tell me anything," I said, finally. "You're just going to try to manipulate me from place to place without telling me anything."
Nothing, again. His face might have been carved out of some golden stone and burnished to a matte perfection. It was like having a statue of a priest sitting on my couch.
That's the last time I try to be nice to a demon, I thought, said it out loud. "That's the last time I try to be nice to a demon." I turned on my heel and stalked away, carrying the empty pizza box. Fucking demons, I thought, rip me away from a nice afternoon spent doing divination and watching the soaps. Now I've got a demon to catch and another goddamn demon sitting on my couch and Doreen…
I folded the pizza box in half, barely noticing. Then I jammed it in the disposer and closed the lid, pressed the black button. "Fucking demons," I muttered. "Push you from square to square, never tell you a goddamn thing. You can take this job and shove it up your infernal—"