Black London 05 - Soul Trade

the world, Belial.”
    “I don’t mean to brag,” he purred as the door of the inn shut behind Pete, “but I am a prince now.”
    “Forgive me if I don’t go weak in the knees,” Pete said. The front room of the inn was like everyother sad pub in every other tiny village she’d ever seen—a few sticky tables, video poker, and dusty signs advertising lager on the walls. “I’ve got more pressing matters to deal with than you.”
    Belial’s eyebrows went up. He could pass for a man, if you didn’t look too closely. Black hair, black eyes, pale skin, and a funeral suit. The thin man who held out his hand and offered you bargainsbeyond your wildest dreams—all he wanted in exchange was everything.
    But Pete had encountered him far too often to feel the swell of terror that should accompany confronting a Prince of Hell.
    “You’re rather less pleasant than the last time we met,” he said. “I don’t know as I like it.”
    “Then fuck off and leave me alone,” Pete said. “I don’t owe you anything this time. We’re square—we got ridof Abbadon and you cleared my note. Mine and Jack’s. I believe the phrase ‘Never darken my doorway again’ might have been used.”
    Belila inhaled, narrow nostrils flaring. “Did it ever occur to you that I simply missed you, Petunia?”
    “Bollocks,” Pete said. “Spit it out, Belial.”
    He grinned at her, tongue flicking between his pointed teeth. “I do see what you mean by pressing matters. What sortof place have we come to? Something about the way the air tastes … I haven’t gotten a whiff of magic this black for a thousand years.”
    “Your guess is as good as mine,” Pete sighed. “Something about a void in the Black leading to an in-between place like nothing anyone has ever seen, unlimited power, big bad evil, blah blah blah.”
    Belial clicked his black nails on the tabletop. “Soul well,” hepurred. “Well, well. That is worth rolling out of bed for.”
    “You’ve dealt with these things?” Pete asked. Absurdly, she felt relief. What had it come to when Belial, once the specter of her nightmares, made her feel safer?
    “No,” Belial said, and laughed. “I look stupid? I stay the fuck out of the in-between, Pete. It’s the place for lost souls, lost things. I’m a creature of Hell. They’d loveto pick my bones clean over there.”
    “The worms,” Pete said, fishing to see if Belial actually knew anything or if he was just fucking with her head, which was probably the demon’s favorite hobby after showing up where he wasn’t wanted and ruining her day.
    “That’s cute,” he said. “That you give them little nicknames. They’re Ba’tsubuota b’ad la d’anasha .”
    “Bless you,” Pete said, curling herlip in what she felt was a fair impression of Jack. “Need a tissue?”
    “That’s the closest I can get in a human language, you insufferable brat,” Belial said. “Aramaic—literally, a thing that is not a man. The antithesis of a living person. Nothingness. In Hell, we call them the Undone—pieces of a human soul that got lost either coming or going, and ended up in the nothingness that lies betweeneverything.”
    He sat back and folded his arms, regarding Pete. “If a piece of their place is spilling into the daylight world, you’ve got your delicate little hands full. Touching Purgatory throws everything off kilter.”
    “I know all that,” Pete said. “Out of balance, unnatural, et cetera.”
    “Not just unnatural,” Belial said. He cocked his head at her. “You don’t know anything at all, you realizethat? You’re so blissfully ignorant that sometimes it hurts my back teeth.”
    “Fuck off,” Pete said. “I’m not in the mood for witty banter with you of all people.”
    “But I’m not a person.” Belial grinned. “Not by a long shot.” He cracked his knuckles. “Sweet little Petunia, I came here to chat with you about another matter entirely, but this is far more interesting.”
    “Just tell me,” Pete sighed.You could never shut a demon up—they loved the sound of their own voices more than any creature Pete had ever encountered. “And if you have any advice for shutting this leak down and getting rid of the zombies in the bargain, I’m all ears.”
    “Did you say bargain?” Belial gave a low growl and Pete hitched back reflexively. “My favorite word, dear Petunia. You know that.”
    “Forget it,” Pete said.“I’ll clean up this mess on my own, just like