The Book of Death (Bourbon Kid 4)

the
reception area. Sat behind the reception desk was a teenage boy with scruffy
dark hair and a white shirt that was in need of a good press.
    ‘Where’s Ulrika Price?’
Gaius asked, avoiding any pleasantries.
    The boy looked up. ‘She
didn’t come in today. I’m covering for her.’
    Gaius removed his
sunglasses and slipped them into the top pocket on his silver suit jacket. ‘Are
you Josh?’ he asked, glaring at the young librarian.
    ‘Uh, yeah. How’d you
know?’
    ‘You’re the one who
gave The Book of Death out to a member of the library the other night, aren’t
you?’
    ‘The Book of Death?’
    ‘Yes. You know the book
I’m talking about?’
    Josh nodded and
swallowed hard. ‘I didn’t give it out to anyone the other night though,’ he
said nervously. ‘I just put it on a shelf like Miss Price asked me to.’
    Gaius leaned over the
desk to get into Josh’s personal space. ‘Take me to it then,’ he snarled.
    ‘I can’t,’ Josh replied.
‘The cops took it away this morning.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘A cop came in and took
it. Said he needed it for Police business.’
    ‘What cop?’
    ‘Sanchez Garcia. Used
to be the bartender at The Tapioca.’
    ‘Fucking fuck!’
    ‘Everyone’s after that
book today,’ said Josh with a shrug.
    Gaius frowned. ‘Who
else has been in looking for it?’
    ‘A fat Santa Claus came
in looking for it just after Sanchez. Spat piss all over me.’
    Gaius sniffed the air.
‘I can smell it.’
    Josh blushed and
lowered his head to sniff his shirt. He turned his nose up as the stench of
stale piss wafted up his nostrils. He glanced back up at Gaius. ‘Anything else
I can help you with?’ he asked.
    ‘Actually yes,’ said
Gaius. ‘Could you show me which shelf you put the book on the other night?’
    ‘Yeah, okay.’
    Josh lifted a wooden
flap on the reception desk and walked out through it. ‘It’s this way,’ he said
gesturing to Gaius as he led the way over to an aisle of books in the Reference
section.
    Gaius followed on
behind him, taking deep breaths through his nostrils, trying desperately to
control the rage that was burning within him at the revelation that The Book of
Death was now in the hands of the police. Josh led him down a tall aisle full
of thick hardback books and pointed to a row just below eye level.
    ‘I put it here,’ he
said, proudly. ‘Under A for Anonymous.’
    Gaius pointed at a
thick book with a green spine on the bottom shelf. ‘Could you pick out that
green book for me, please?’ he asked courteously.
    Josh shrugged. ‘Sure.’
    As the young librarian
bent down and reached for the book, Gaius grabbed him by a thick clump of hair
on the back of his head. He hauled him up off his feet and then in one swift
move slammed his face into one of the hard wooden shelves. There was a
sickening crack as Josh’s nose broke. The boy barely had time to scream out in
pain before Gaius smashed his face into the shelf three more times. Blood began
pouring from Josh’s nose and mouth as some of his teeth were smashed. Gaius
hurled him down face-first onto the hardwood floor and leaned over him. The
young librarian attempted to climb to his knees, but Gaius quickly hit him hard
in the ribs, knocking him over onto his back.
    Josh’s eyes had filled
with tears very quickly. His bloodied face revealed a look of terror. His hands
were trembling and he looked ready to burst out crying at any second. Gaius
leaned down and pressed his left knee into his terrified victim’s chest.
    ‘This is what you get
for giving my book to the police,’ he said, raising his huge right fist high
above his head. Josh winced and turned his head away, clearly fearing the
impact of the forthcoming blow. He had time to sob just once before Gaius
rammed his fist into the side of his face, shattering his cheekbone as if it
were made of glass.
    For almost a minute
Gaius pounded his fists into Josh’s face. The boy was most likely dead after
the third or fourth blow, but Gaius found himself enjoying the violence too
much to stop.
    When his adrenaline had
calmed, Gaius paused and took a look at his bloodied fists. As he stared at
them, marvelling at their power, the swelling and pain in his knuckles
subsided. The Eye of the Moon, wedged firmly in his right eye socket, ensured
that any pain or injuries he sustained healed up almost instantly.
    He reached into his top
pocket and slipped his sunglasses back on. Then he pulled out his cell phone
and made a call to