Dead Mans Hand

"No," Jay said. "When we find Sascha, you can take him, make him tell me the truth. That's all."

They found Doughboy all alone in a field, playing with a manhole cover. He was throwing it like a Frisbee, flinging it twenty, thirty yards across the grass, then scrambling after it to throw it again. It didn't fly as well as a Frisbee, but Doughboy didn't seem to mind. There was nothing but i

"We're looking for Sascha," Jay asked him. "He used to work at the Crystal Palace. Have you seen him anywhere?" Doughboy slowly shook his head from side to side. "I wath juth playing," he said.

Blaise laughed. "I know a good game he can play," he said. Doughboy's face went waxen, and he began to take off his clothes with thick, clumsy fingers.

Jay swung around. "Let him go," he snapped.

"Why should I? You can't make me." Jay slapped him.

Blaise stood there, his eyes hot with anger, his cheek as red as his hair, and for a second Jay was afraid of what he might do. Then, suddenly, he looked away. "Okay," he mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"All right," Jay said, after a long moment. "It's forgotten. C'mon. Sascha's still out there somewhere."

"How did you find me here?" Bre

"Very astute," Fadeout said sarcastically. "He lost you when you were grabbed by the police, but. he picked you up again at the church by ru

"And you followed me here."

"Quite right." Fadeout looked around. "You do know the most interesting people." He reached over and picked up Chrysalis's journal. "But this is what I've come for. This will give me more power than Chrysalis ever had-because I won't be reluctant to use the information."

Bre

She'd been standing on the desk next to Fadeout, and as he pointed his pistol at Bre

As Bre

The shot echoed loudly in the confined chamber. The bullet ripped the miniature Chrysalis off the barrel and sent her flying through the air. She spattered against Mother like a broken rag doll. Mother made no sound, but extruded long, humanlike arms that cuddled the broken body against her mattress of flesh.

Bre

Fadeout went down, blood from his crushed lip dribbling on his chin. He put a hand to his mouth to wipe it away and mumbled, "You're dead now, you bastard," and threw something at Bre

Bre

The giant panda gri

"Kill him, Dragon," Fadeout directed.

The panda made a whining, bleating noise and carefully climbed off the desk and advanced on Bre

There was no way Bre

He backed up further into the chamber, and the panda padded after him, a stupid grin on its amiable, clownish features. When Bre

Bre

Bre

Bre

He caught his breath at the pain that lanced through his arm. Both bones in his forearm were broken. The radius had ripped through his flesh, and blood spurted in time with the pulses of agony surging up his arm.

Bre

He took the transmitter from his pocket, activated it. "Crystal Palace," he croaked. He dropped it as he pulled himself up the ladder with his good hand.

The trapdoor at the top of the ladder resisted his efforts at first, but opened when he banged his good shoulder against it, sending waves of agony pounding down his injured arm.

Bre

A woman going down the corridor toward the bathrooms took one look at Bre

Everyone stared at him. No one tried to stop him as he plowed into the taproom, but the press of customers formed a blockade that Bre

There came another piercing scream from the hallway, and Bre

Lazy Dragon simply crashed through the crowd, scattering it like screaming tenpins. Bre

The smart customers were leaving. The slow, the curious, the drunk, and the stupefied stayed to watch as the panda closed on Bre

"Give me the book!" Fadeout commanded from behind the bear, but Bre

Almost.

The ace slammed a paw down across Bre