“I hope so,” Jack grumbled, adjusting in his chair. “I have questions for him.”
“You said he literally disappears, right? Like into dust?”
“Well, once he just got into a car and drove away, but yeah, he just sorta… evaporated.”
“Wild.”
Minutes passed in silence. Jack couldn’t stop tapping his foot, afraid that Carla wouldn’t arrive. That something had gone wrong. That Enzo would catch on and make good on his threats to “do something” about her.
Boris procured a deck of cards from one of the drawers and set them beside the bottle of whisky. “Quit worrying. She’s going to be fine. Trust me, she’s scary.”
“I know,” said Jack earnestly. Like a black widow, she was beautiful, lethal,terrifying. For all that he adored her, he had no doubt that she could and would kill him if she needed to. Would bury him in the woods somewhere and only think of him occasionally when she ashed her cigarette or had one too many martinis. “I can’t help it.”
Two hours and several rounds of cards later, Carla stomped her way into the hotel, clutching Jack’s pages to her chest. “Whatever the fuck they summoned isn’t on this list.”
Disappointment struck him like a hammer. He’d hoped it was a lead. A real, proper contribution, unlike everything else he’d done so far.
She slammed a sheet of paper on the desk, covering the cards. Boris shot her a dirty look, but said nothing, bowing his head to examine the drawing. Jack followed suit.
“I don’t recognize any of this,” he said. “These aren’t—the book talked about, um, mostly Goetic demons.”
Boris and Carla just stared at him.
“They were already in Hell. I think they’re like, uh, nobility,” Jack explained. “Anyway, I don’t think any of these symbols are associated with that kind of demon summoning.”
“So they summoned something else,” said Carla, chewing her lip.
“Or they’re planning a Halloween party,” said Boris, shrugging.
“With this much attention to detail?” Carla put her hands on her hips, drew her lips back in a sneer.
“Look, we don’t even know if it’s real?—”
“It’s Enzo,” she said. “I’m sure of it. He’s always doing weird shit.”
Jack chewed his lip. Thought back to his earlier conversation with Boris. Whatifthey cut the head off at the source?
Maybe they could threaten him into reversing the spell, if it was indeed somehow related to the loop.
“How do we handle Enzo?” he said, taking a deep breath.
The bell above the door tinkled.
Jack turned, scowling at the interruption. Then he nearly fell out of his chair, because the man staring back at him was tall, pale, well-dressed, and horribly familiar.
“Hello,” said the yellow-eyed man.
Boris caught the expression on Jack’s face and choked on a swig of whisky.
CHAPTER
FORTY-ONE
“This is nota private place to meet,” said the yellow-eyed man, approaching the desk with the casual demeanor of someone seeking a room for the night. “Honestly, I expected better.”
Carla stared, mouth agape. Boris sputtered. Only Jack managed to find any words. “Whoareyou?”
“I’m afraid that’s not your business,” the yellow-eyed man said. When he walked, he practically glided, shoes silent against the carpet.
