Dre’s expression turned grim. “We did. His mother’s got cancer. They found it early. It’s a miniscule knot in her right breast and the prognosis is stellar, but the costs are abominable. Her insurance doesn’t cover everything, and there are some things her physicians strongly recommend that are simply too expensive for her to pay. Milo is trying to make as much money as possible, which means studying for the entrance test to MIT has become his second priority.”
“Fuck. Can’t Sammy simply pay him more?”
“We tried that. The boy isn’t stupid. He knows Sammy is already paying him a much higher wage than is usual for the kind of job he’s doing. He flat out refuses to accept a raise.” Dre sounded so frustrated and Barion could relate. It was good to have some pride, but Milo was being ridiculous about it. Barion also knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to tell Milo that to his face.
“He does realize the money you’re offering is just sitting around, not doing anything except attracting more of its kind?”
“He does. He says he wants to earn it. Problem is, where does a high school student get a job that’s paying enough to support his sick mother while leaving him enough time to study for his entrance test?”
Barion wasn’t sure if it was the wording of Dre’s question or something else, but he had an epiphany. “Quirion!”
“What about him? Are you hoping he could talk some sense into Milo?” Dre rubbed his temples. “Hmm, not a bad idea. The way Quirion can go on and on, Milo will probably beg us to give him money just so our brother stops talking to him. It reeks a bit of blackmail, but it could work.” Dre lifted his hand in preparation to slice space and time. Barion shook his head.
“No, I didn’t mean it that way, though it could be our plan B.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“Quirion always moans about how much work it is to keep track of all his books. And since he won’t let Sammy anywhere near his library again, Milo is the perfect candidate. He knows his way around books because of his work for Sammy, and Quirion’s library is in one of the more dangerous dimensions, which means Milo is entitled to hazard pay, even though the library itself is perfectly safe, and of course the basic wage has to be quite high as well, since he has to put up with Quirion.”
“That actually sounds sensible, though I still don’t understand why Quirion made such a fuss. Sammy was only trying to help.”
Barion loved his brother dearly, but the pout on his lips was simply ridiculous and his inability to see Sammy’s faults—few as there were—had made for a very interesting afternoon in Quirion’s home. Barion had been sure his ears were going to bleed out his brain if his brother and brother-in-law wouldn’t stop discussing the different ways of storing books to find them as easily as possible. As it turned out, Sammy liked to order his books first by field, then by alphabet while Quirion preferred to have them all by alphabet—not to mention that Sammy alphabetized them by author while Quirion liked to do it by title, a disagreement that for some time threatened to end in blood and tears. Finally, the argument had gotten so heated that Barion had felt the need to give his two cents to calm the situation down. Needless to say, the two had then decided to team up against him, because apparently, storing the books with the wrong system was still preferable to just putting them on a shelf. Barion had fled the scene quickly, and so far, Dre and Sammy hadn’t been invited back to Quirion’s home, which was, essentially, the library.
“Sure, brother. Don’t forget that Quirion is older than us and set in his ways. The discussion did him good, though. I haven’t seen him so lively in ages.”
“Yeah, he was all riled up.”
They grinned at each other, reveling in the memory of seeing their usually unflappable brother with his panties in a knot. Sammy had definitely brought some fresh air into the family.
“He and Sammy are writing each other letters,” Dre confessed.
“You mean they email each other.”
“No. They do it the old-fashioned way—with expensive paper and real ink and using quills. Sammy has learned calligraphy just so he and Quirion can keep arguing in written form about libraries and how to organize them. They even seal their letters with wax.” Dre stared at him, wide-eyed. “I absolutely don’t get it, but they’re both happy.”
“Whatever floats their boats.” Barion shrugged. He had long ago given up on understanding their oldest brother. Dre, he could get, but Quirion? He was so un-demon like that it was spooky…unless his books were threatened, then Barion steered clear of him. He loved a good brawl like every demon, but Quirion in one of his moods? That wasn’t a brawl. It was slaughter.
“Are you going to talk to him? About Milo working for him?”
“Definitely.” Dre let his claws spring free. “I’m doing it right now. Keep your fingers crossed that this is a solution Milo can accept. And thank you for the idea.”
“You’re welcome.” Barion felt oddly content about having provided the possible solution to this problem. Having a family was a pain in the ass most of the time but could be quite rewarding as well.
When Dre was gone, Barion checked his outfit—sturdy jeans, older T-shirt that could get dirty, wet, burned or simply shredded and biker boots made from thick leather. Perfect. He was ready for their little trip to the hell dimensions. He sliced space and time and popped up in Jon’s living room. His friend had told him it wasn’t necessary for him to appear outside the apartment and ring the bell because of all the time they spent together in Jon’s basement apartment. Jon was already dressed in clothes similar to the ones Barion was wearing. He grinned happily.
“Good morning, Barion.”
“Good morning, Jon. Ready to have breakfast and tackle the hell dimensions?”
“More than ready.” Jon held up his backpack. “I’ve got something to drink, a few snacks, my cell, the new video camera to make pictures and films, and pen and paper for spontaneous ideas.”
“You’re such a good little boy scout. Let’s get going.” Barion opened time and space again and Jon stepped next to him, under his arm, as had become his habit since they had started hanging out together. Having the zombie so close to him reminded Barion of all the sexual delights they would be sharing later, and he shivered in anticipation.
They re-appeared behind the small diner with the inviting blue and gold paint on the walls. Barion had found it some forty years ago when he had been hopping around the planet randomly. The owner, a then-young native woman named Waaseyaa, had been busy skinning a rabbit at the back of the diner. Not fazed in the least by a blue-hued demon suddenly appearing right in front of her—she was a spiritual leader to her people and knew her way around the paranormal world—she had invited him to have some of her pancakes. Barion had eaten until he thought he would explode. For a brief moment he had wondered if that had been Waaseyaa’s plan from the beginning and if his hide would end up on the wall next to the head of the Wapiti. He’d paid her generously for her hospitality, becoming one of her regulars. Back then, Waaseyaa had just taken over the diner from the former owner, who had retired. There were a lot of necessary repairs for which Barion had paid. The young shaman was about as stubborn as Milo and had insisted on giving Barion a share of the place. The debt had been long paid, the place was running successfully, even though it was so well hidden, and Barion was enjoying his role of favorite patron.
He led Jon around the diner to the front where they entered the cozy-looking place, leaving the still-biting cold outside. Waaseyaa spotted them immediately, hurrying around the counter with her arms outstretched in welcome and a warm smile on her face. She wore black jeans, a tunic with some spell woven into it and comfy-looking leather shoes. There was some silver in her once-raven-black hair, but her face was still that of the young woman Barion had met so many years ago.
“Barion, so good to see you!” She barreled into him, her arms going around his waist. After a moment of fierce hugging, Waaseyaa leaned back to look at Jon. “Welcome to you, too, friend of Barion.” She held out her hand, which Jon took with visible reluctance. Although he had no problem being touched by Barion, other people, especially humans, seemingly still made him nervous. “It is an honor to see a returner from the spirit world.”
