Nightside 02 - Agents of Light and Darkness

less immediately threatening locations, and disappeared into them. One thoroughly panicked shapeshifter turned himself into a barstool, and hoped not to be noticed. And one guy (there’s always one) took advantage of the general confusion to vault over the bar top and make a grab for the cash register. But Alex’s bouncers, Betty and Lucy Coltrane, got him before he’d taken a dozen steps. Betty took the register away from him, Lucy kicked his ass up around his ears; then they let the dumb bastard run (or more properly limp) away. The Coltranes were both pretty sure they were going to have more important things to worry about. Alex stood behind the bar, watching it all and looking even more bitter and put upon than usual. A the last of his patrons vanished, and the place fell unusually quiet, he threw his mopping-up rag onto the bar top and glared at me.
    “Thanks a whole bunch, Taylor. There go my profits for the evening. I knew I should never have given you that bloody card.”
    Suzie and I leaned on the bar, breathing heavily, and Alex grudgingly pushed a bottle of brandy towards us. I took a good swallow, then passed the bottle to Suzie, who drank the rest of it. Alex winced.
    “Why do I even bother giving you the good stuff? You never appreciate it. Now what’s this about angels coming here?”
    “They’re right behind us,” I said. “And in a really bad mood.”
    “Tell us this place is protected,” said Suzie, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “I really need to hear this dump is seriously protected.”
    “It is protected,” said Alex. “But possibly … not that protected.”
    “Be specific,” I said. “What have you got?”
    Alex sighed heavily. “I hate giving away trade secrets, but… Basically, this whole building is protected by wards, shaped curses and genetic-level booby-traps laid down by various magicians down the centuries, all of them pretty powerful and vicious as all hell. Grandfather put a really nasty curse on people who miss the urinals in the toilet. And, of course, my ancestor Merlin’s still buried somewhere under the wine cellar. More than enough to keep the flies off, even in the Nightside, but no-one ever said anything about bloody angels! I don’t suppose anyone ever thought the possibility would arise. Of course, they didn’t know about you, Taylor.”
    “You could always turn me over to the angels,” I said. “I’d understand.”
    “This is my bar!” Alex snapped immediately. “No-one messes with my patrons, even if it’s you. And no-one tells me what to do in my own bar, not even a bunch of celestial storm troopers. Should I lock all the doors and barricade the windows?”
    “If you like,” I said.
    “Won’t it help?”
    “Not really, no.”
    “You’re a bundle of fun to be around, Taylor, you know that?”
    Suzie had her back to the bar, her shotgun in her hands, glowering warily about her. “Taylor, how long before the angels get here?”
    “Not long,” I said.
    “Am I at least allowed to ask why both of you are soaked in what looks revoltingly like fresh blood?” said Alex. “Not that I care if you’re hurt, of course. I ask only for information, in the interests of hygiene.”
    “I met up with an old friend,” I said.
    “Anyone I know?”
    “Belle.”
    “Oh,” said Alex. “Her. Is she…?”
    “She rests in pieces.”
    “Good,” said Alex. “Snooty bitch. Never liked her. Always putting on airs and looking down her nose at my bar snacks. And she always ordered the best champagne and never paid for it.”
    “You wouldn’t happen to have a really, really big gun stashed away behind your bar, would you?” Suzie said hopefully.
    Alex sneered in her face. “Even if I did, I’m not stupid enough to annoy an angel by pointing it at him. Anyway, last I heard, you and Taylor had the Speaking Gun … Tell me you still have the Speaking Gun.”
    “We lost it,” I admitted.
    Alex really looked like he was about to have a fit. His fists clenched, his teeth clenched, and he actually shuddered for a moment with frustration and outrage. He grabbed two tufts of spiky hair sticking out from under his beret and tugged at them dangerously.
    “That is typical of you, Taylor! As long as I thought you had the Speaking Gun, I thought we might actually have a chance. But no! You get your hands on one of the most powerful weapons in the Nightside, and you lose it! You’re a jinx, Taylor, you know that? You are nothing but bad