Odnośniki
- Index
- William Shatner Tek War 9 Tek Net
- John Ringo Alldenata 05 The Hero (with Williamson, Michael)
- Charles Williams The Diamond Bikini (1956) (pdf)
- William R. Forstchen Lost Regiment 1 Rally Cry
- Williams Cathy Kochankowie z hrabstwa Kent 4
- 47 Cathy Williams Wybranka milionera
- Jack Williamson Eldren 01 Lifeburst
- Brenda Williamson A Wicked Wolf (pdf)
- In Alien Hands William Shatner
- Faulkner William Wsciekłość i wrzask
- zanotowane.pl
- doc.pisz.pl
- pdf.pisz.pl
- conblanca.keep.pl
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past sunset but, even though the moon was new, I could clearly see that it was
a little before midnight. Comforting to know that for the rest of my un-life I
could get by on cheap watches.
By hour three I was trying to tune out the audible and visual spectrums,
opting for a zenlike approach to my boring vigil. Which is why I was slow to
react to the sound of a footfall behind me: perhaps Lupé
was finally making an appearance. More likely that Suki was making a return
visit. Lupé had been distant and formal even a bit frosty, of late. When she
wasn't ladling the sarcasm, that is. . . .
I was getting a cramp in my back and, since we were far enough back and into
the trees that no one would see us, I straightened up, using the halberd for
leverage.
The ache in my lower back exploded into a burst of agony.
I would have cried out, but the breath had already been driven from my lungs.
My stomach cramped and, as I pressed a hand to my abdomen, I found something
poking through my shirtfront.
Three somethings poking through my shirtfront!
I turned around, feeling a bit woozy and definitely off balance.
It wasn't Suki or Lupé. It was a couple of guys dressed in black robes with
their hoods thrown back.
One was big and middle-aged, over six feet tall, with sparse hair and a big,
bushy black beard. The other was short and old with greasy, silver-white hair
and about three days' worth of stubble on his pinched face.
"What'd you let go a' that pitchfoke for?" the short one said, doing a more
than credible imitation of
Strother Martin. He raised the shield on the hooded lantern that he was
carrying.
"I got 'im, Henry," the big one said. "He oughta be fallin' down now."
"
Hist!
You imbecile! Don't say my real name!"
"Oh. Sorry, 'Asmodeus.' "
"Asmodeus?" I was I was giddy with shock. "And what do they call you?" I asked
high pockets.
"Uh, Belial."
Asmodeus tugged on Belial's robe. "Don't talk to him! We're supposed to kill
him!"
"Well, I stuck him with the pitchfork, Henry. What else am I supposed to do?"
"Don't call me that, you big, stupid "
"Boys, boys," I said, trying to keep my voice low: the last thing I wanted to
do was bring the rest of the coven running. "I'm really sort of unhappy about
this pitchfork thing " More than a little unhappy and having no luck in trying
to dislodge it by myself. The best I could do was get my left hand behind me
to grasp the base of the handle and keep its weight from unbalancing me any
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further. " it itches something terrible. Now, if you'll just pull it back out,
I might be inclined to let you go without tearing your heads off first!"
"Don't lissen to him," Asmodeus said. "He's about ready to fall over!"
"Now, Henry, do I really look like I'm about to fall over?" Matter of fact, I
was, but no point in letting them know it. "Think about it, if I were human,
wouldn't a pitchfork through the middle do me right in?"
Belial nodded. Asmodeus just looked like he needed to find an outdoor privy.
"But I'm not human. I should think that was rather obvious. Especially to a
couple of experienced
Servants of Darkness like yourselves."
"Hey," said Belial, his face lighting up like a two-year-old's at Christmas.
"You're a demon, ain'tcha?"
"Bingo." I was getting more than a little woozy.
Asmodeus wasn't convinced. "But them other demons that come through yesterday
said we's supposed to kill these folk! Said that Satan commanded it."
"You boys obviously haven't trafficked much with demons." I slid down, onto
one knee, no longer able to keep my balance.
"Trafficked?" It was obvious that Belial was totally out of his element now.
"Ya mean like drive with
'em?"
"Look, what did these so-called demons promise you in exchange for performing
this task?" His expression indicated my wording was too obtuse. "What are you
supposed to get for killing us?" Now I
was down on both knees.
"Lord Satan is s'posed to raise us up," Henry/Asmodeus preened, "give us power
in his kingdom!"
Yeah, that and twenty-five cents will get you half a cup of coffee.
"Exchange?" Belial had finally decoded my previous question. "Them other
demons traded Bob
Sommer that purty black car for his old chevy van."
Belial's face took on an expression of calculation. "So, if you're a demon,
too, what'll you give me if'n
I pull out that pitchfoke from your back?"
Your head on a stick, I wanted to scream. Then I saw the grey wolf creeping
toward them through the weeds. "See that wolf?" I asked, pointing straight at
Lupé. She hesitated, having lost the element of surprise. "To show you that
I'm a more powerful demon than the false ones who visited you yesterday "
"Uh, last night," Henry corrected.
" last night," I continued, feeling some disorientation setting in, "I will
invoke the Powers of
Darkness and change that beast into a beautiful woman a a naked love slave who
will will "
where was I going with this?
"serve the one who pulls out this this thing." I pointed at the pitchfork with
my right hand, starting to slide toward those dark waters of unconsciousness.
"Oh, now what kinda fools d'you take us for " Belial began.
But Henry poked him with an elbow and said: "Go ahead, demon: show us your
stuff."
I looked at the wolf. Who looked back at me. And, for a moment, got the
impression that these two fools were the least of my problems. "Okay." I
pointed at Lupé and tried to think of something arcane to say. I drew a blank.
"C'mon, mister big mouth demon. Show us your power or we'll show you that we
got more farm implements where that pitchfoke come from."
I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, feeling the handle of the pitchfork
bump against the ground behind me. All of my joints were starting to unhinge.
"Eenie meenie," I said, "chili beanie; the spirits are about to speak. . . ."
"Are they friendly spirits?" Belial wanted to know.
"Yow!" said Henry.
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I opened my eyes and caught the final stage of Lupé's transformation back to
human form.
My, my, my. .
. .
"Ooooh!" she cooed, arching her back and running her hands through her long,
night-dark hair. Then she smiled a wicked smile and positively sauntered over
to where I was standing. "Thou has summoned me, Master?" she exclaimed
breathily. Draping herself across my shoulders, she proclaimed: "I am Hell's
love slave, here to do thy bidding!" In my ear she whispered, "Are you all
right?"
"Do I look all right?" I murmured. "This damn pitchfork is killing me."
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