Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

his opinions on that matter to himself. To him, the Hellfire Club was just another useful tool, another means to get him what he wanted. He had a strong feeling a lot of members felt that way, in private.
    "So," said Frankie, in her deep sensual voice that was like being assaulted by a leather glove, "what are we to do about the Durandal? Such a dear boy. We all know his plans. And he's come so far in such a short time. But I can't help feeling that he threatens to steal our thunder. The Hellfire Club are the official villains and demons of the Golden Age, by choice and popular acclaim. If anyone's going to bring the Throne down, it should be us."
    "He means well," said a pretty young thing of indeterminate gender. "And I do so like to encourage new talent."
    "Kill him, for his presumption!" snapped a grossly fat man with so many body piercings he rattled when he breathed. "He should have come to us first. How dare he plan atrocities, and not include us?"
    "But," said Markham, his trained politician's voice cutting easily across the other's, "don't you just love the idea of the greatest Paragon of all time becoming the Empire's greatest villain? That a man who dedicated all his life to preserving the Empire and all it stood for, should be the one to bring it all crashing down in ruins? Irony is so good for the soul. . . Let him have his fun. Let him do all the hard work, gathering his followers and planning his plans, and when the Throne is finally in danger, we will step out from the shadows and take it all over. Make the Durandal one of us, whether he likes it or not. That's the Hellfire Club way, after all."
    "Of course," said Frankie, stretching her magnificent body with languorous ease. "Everyone can be seduced."
    "You should know," Markham said generously. "Now, if you'll all excuse me, I'll leave you to sort out the details. I have another meeting to attend. The House will be in Session soon, and my attendance is required."
    "Ah yes," said Frankie. "Have fun, my favorite Member . . ."
    In his sumptuous office, surrounded by all the spoils of victory, Angelo Bellini, Patriarch of the one true Church, was entertaining his second important visitor of the day. The previous Patriarch's remains had been carefully scraped up and removed, and very thoroughly disposed of, and everything in the office was now back to normal. Though the extractor fans were still working overtime. Angelo stood up behind his impressive desk, and nodded shortly to welcome the nearest thing the Ecstatics had to a leader or spokesperson. The Ecstatic was of average height, and a little thinner than most, probably because he kept forgetting to eat. Living in a constant state of orgasm will do that to you. He wore a simple gray shift, smelled strongly, and seemed to drift as much as walk across the deep pile carpeting towards Angelo and his desk.
    Seen up close, the Ecstatic wasn't very impressive. The constant unwavering smile was definitely disturbing, though, and there was something about the eyes ... Angelo waved to the chair on the other side of his desk. He was damned if he was going to shake hands. The Ecstatic sank almost bonelessly into the hard-backed visitors chair, while Angelo made himself extremely comfortable in his rather more luxurious seat of power.
    "Call me Joy," the Ecstatic said suddenly, his happy voice full of real if unfocused enthusiasm. "It's a use name, of course. I don't have the patience for formal names anymore. And who I might have been in the past is of no interest to you or to me. It's good to be here. It's good to be anywhere. We met briefly at Douglas's Coronation, you and I. Exchanged a few words. Or perhaps we didn't. It's so hard to be sure about things that don't really matter. I love chocolate."
    "Well done," said Angelo. "You were almost coherent there, for a while. If not particularly valuable. Are you comfortable?"
    "Oh, I'm always comfortable. Really. You have no idea."
    "Could you please stop smiling like that? It's not natural."
    "Not for you, perhaps. For me, the world is good. So large and wondrous and full of pleasure. Call me Joy. You called, and here I am. You've done a lot with this place. I don't like it. Someone died here recently."
    Angelo looked sharply at the Ecstatic. He'd never had much time for the extravagant claims made for the Ecstatics' supposed powers of insight, but that last remark, so casually made, was certainly unsettling.
    Angelo made himself relax. The Ecstatic could say