Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea Read Free Page B

know.”
    “How is she? Sofi, I mean.” His voice was tentative now.
    “Still in the hospital,” I said. “She’s very weak, but they say she has a good chance of getting better. With time.”
    He nodded. “She is a fighter, your grandmother. Give her my good wishes.”
    As I walked up the hall to my apartment, I put a hand instinctively on my gun. There was the hulking shape of a man leaning up against the wall by my door. He looked like a clean hobo. His face was unshaven and his hair was shaggy, curling around the nape of his neck in a thoroughly unkempt manner, giving the illusion of a war on his head instead of hair. He wore a faded old army jacket that had large pockets all over the front. He had a tattered brown satchel slung over his shoulder. And he was huge. He was at least as tall as the doorway. He looked up as I came closer.
    “Finally,” he said in a deep voice. “You’re late.”
    “For what?” I said.
    “For me.”
    “And who are you?”
    “Bobby Gage. Sam sent me.”
    “Oh, right,” I said. “He mentioned you. I thought you’d be—”
    “Thought I’d be what?” he growled.
    “Shorter,” I said quickly. “I didn’t know you’d be so tall.”
    He grunted. “So, you gonna invite me in or are you gonna stare at me all day? Smells like goddamn sauerkraut in this hall. Can we go inside?”
    “Oh. Sure.” I took out my keys and unlocked the door. Gage walked in and looked around, taking in the messy living room, holding the bag on his shoulder close to his body. It looked like it contained something heavy, but he carried it lightly. He nodded at the room. I was not what you’d call an organized person. Sofi had always taken care of that department. But since she’d been in the hospital I’d made an effort to be tidy. It was not a successful attempt.
    “Homey,” said Gage.
    “Sorry about the mess.”
    “What mess?” he said, wandering into the kitchen. I followed.
    “You want a cup of coffee?” I said. “It’s not fresh, but it’s still hot.”
    “Yep. Black,” he said, helping himself to a chair at the table. He looked like a giant sitting in our little kitchen. Apparently his ability wasn’t good manners.
    “So you worked for Sam before?” I said, setting his cup in front of him. I sat down with my own.
    “Sure,” he said, taking a sip. “Damn!” he said. “You make a fine cup of coffee.”
    “Er, thanks.”
    “Don’t mention it,” he said. “I been working for Sam for a couple years now. He’s a good boss, far as bosses go. I was living on the streets when he found me. Not a penny to my name. Come a long way since then.” He nodded to the badge on the table. I’d forgotten all about it in my excitement about the money. “See you got paid,” he said. “Feels good, don’t it?”
    “To get paid?”
    “To get off that goddamn list,” he said.
    “The Registry?” I said.
    He nodded. “The money’s great and all, but the day I got off the Registry, I felt like I could do anything. I would have killed a man to get off that damn thing. Turns out, I just had to find a couple of demons. Piece of cake. Been working for Sam ever since.”
    “Demons?” I said.
    “Yep. I’m pretty handy with the books. You know, Grimoires, spell books. Stuff like that.”
    “So you just read the books? That doesn’t seem too hard.”
    “You wouldn’t think so,” he said, patting the satchel on his lap. “But there’s more to it. The languages are old. Older than the dead languages, older than anything that anyone knows. And they’re not teachable. It is what it is. You either have it or you don’t. I have it.”
    “So you know the language?”
    “Nah. I just know. I look at it and I know.”
    “But if someone really set their mind on it, couldn’t they figure it out too?”
    He shook his head. “More to it than that, sister. You either have it or you don’t. It’s in here,” he said, putting a fist to his chest, just over his heart. “You could say the