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Nightside 10 - The Good the Bad and the Uncanny

Nightside 10 - The Good the Bad and the Uncanny

Titel: Nightside 10 - The Good the Bad and the Uncanny Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: Simon R. Green
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going. A girl should know her limitations.”
    “I don’t pay tolls,” I said. “Normally. But I think you’ve got the right of it. None of us are in any shape to fight off armies. So, we go in politely, act diplomatically, and see if we can sweet-talk the scumbag. Screech, you’d better stay in the car.”
    “I am deeply hurt by your insinuation,” said the elf. “I can be diplomatic if I have to be. I am an emissary, after all.”
    “All right, you can come in with us,” I said. “But don’t kill anybody. Unless I start something first.”
    “Well, really,” said Screech. “What do you think I am, a barbarian?”
    “No,” I said. “You’re an elf. Which is worse.” I looked at Ms. Fate. “Same to you, only less so. I’ve no doubt we’re going to see some distressing things in Dr. Fell’s court, but patience and dignity at all times. We can always go back and give him a good arse kicking some other time.”
    “I have had ... disagreements with some of Dr. Fell’s people, in the past,” Ms. Fate said carefully. “Really quite vicious and bloody disagreements, on occasion.”
    “Oh, this is going to go really well,” I said.
    We drove a short distance until we came to what was obviously Dr. Fell’s place of power. We all got out of the Fatemobile, and I took a long thoughtful look at it while Ms. Fate activated what was left of the car’s security systems. From the outside, Dr. Fell’s court looked like just another shabby night-club, with boarded-up windows and a really quite understated neon sign— The Penitent. The whole place could have used a lick of paint and quite possibly a tetanus injection. The only signs of life were the bouncers outside the firmly closed front doors, two huge golems in oversized tuxedos. They looked very professional and quite staggeringly dangerous. The only sure way to take down a stone golem is with a road drill.
    The fresh air had revived me, or the werewolf blood in me was kicking in, and I actually felt half-way human as I headed for the club entrance. I was in the mood to spoil someone’s day, and the bouncers would do as well as anyone. Their heads turned slowly in unison, accompanied by low, grinding sounds. I nodded to them briskly, and they stared silently back with their empty stone faces.
    “John Taylor and friends, here to speak with Dr. Fell,” I said. “And don’t give me any crap about appointments or I’ll make you targets for every pigeon in the Nightside.”
    “There aren’t any pigeons in the Nightside, John,” said Ms. Fate. “Something eats them.”
    “Yes,” I said patiently, “I knew that, but very probably they didn‘t, until you told them. Now I have to come up with a whole new threat.”
    “Ah,” said Ms. Fate. “Shutting up now.”
    “You’re not on the list,” the stone golems said in unison, in low, grating voices.
    “I rarely am,” I said. “But I think you’ll find Dr. Fell will want to see me anyway.”
    The two blocky heads turned slowly to look at each other; there was a silent conference, then two empty faces ground back to look at me.
    “Go right in,” they said together. “Dr. Fell will have words with you, and your friends.”
    “Wonderful,” Ms. Fate said brightly. “Doesn’t sound at all intimidating.”
    Lord Screech sniffed loudly, stepped forward, and thrust a single long finger deep into the blank stone face of the nearest golem. With a few quick gestures, he etched long, sweeping furrows into the stone, giving the golem a nice happy face. He gave the other golem a sad face, then stepped back to regard his handiwork. He nodded, satisfied.
    “Never take sass from the hired help.”
    “Can’t take you anywhere,” I said.
    “Dr. Fell really isn’t going to like that,” said Ms. Fate.
    “Good,” I said. “Now, when we get in there, stick close to me, don’t pee in the potted plants, and act civilised. If anyone’s going to start anything, it’s going to be me, and I really don’t like to be upstaged.”
    I led the way forward, and the dull grey entrance doors slowly swung open before us. Above the doors, the neon sign had changed to read Suffer for Your Sins. Nice touch, I thought. Beyond the entrance doors lay a sparse and spartan lobby with cracked plaster walls and a grubby wooden floor. On the far side of the lobby was another set of double doors, apparently made of solid brass. I walked right up to them, but they didn’t open on their own. I gave them an

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