Fantasmagoria Read Free

could feel it. Days, tops. If he got out of the apartment alive.
    LaMana went on. “He’s one of Pugs’s. Bets on the saurus races we run out by the Serrated Hills.”
    “How much is he in for?”
    “Doesn’t matter. What matters is that he beats his kids, and on nothing but the word of street--”
    “Nice play.”
    “You always had a thing for kids.”
    Jack shrugged.
    “You came here to smash his face in.”
    “And?”
    “And he still won’t get it. None of these losers do. The Empire doesn’t keep the peace in this town. Neither does City Hall. Or the Black Hand. And for damn sure it ain’t Pimpernel or me.”
    Jack waited.
    “Your boss, you know he’s a sick, sadistic fuck. But he’s smart. He stays holed up in that dungeon he calls an office, never comes out. No one sees him. That’s a problem when you’re trying to curry favor with the locals. I got City Hall. But Pimpernel . . . he’s in good with the Empire. But more to the point, he’s got you. Or at least he did.” LaMana paused. “He’s gonna kill you, Jack.”
    Jack cocked his head.
    “When you go back to that shitty bar you hang out at . . .”
    “The Dive.”
    “Whatever. Your old buddies Rabid and Togo are going to be there waiting for you. They’re gonna call you in to see the boss, and Zen-ji’s gonna run you clean through with that monster sword of his.”
    “How do you know?”
    LaMana snorted. “I know some things. Guys like me, we have lots of friends who know things.” He nodded. “And that brings us here. Now that your time with Pimpernel is up, I want you.” He pointed at Jack. “Come work for me.”
    Jack looked down at his hands. He clenched them shut. He felt so weak now. So weak. He didn’t know if he could take the first minotaur, let alone the second, the banshee, and thirteen others. He didn’t know whether to believe LaMana or not. But it didn’t matter.
    Jack shook his head.
    “Why the hell not?” LaMana raised his arms. He seemed hurt.
    “They call you the Butcher for a reason.”
    Nero thought for a moment. “This is true. And?”
    Jack shrugged. “And I had enough killing.”
    The kingpin took another step forward and opened his arms. “Is what I do any worse than the Dark Red?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “You know it’s not. And my guess is, that’s why you hate your boss. You know what happens to those kids that go missing from his orphanages.” LaMana looked right at Jack. “Right?”
    “Who says I hate him?”
    “Aw, come on! Your hatred of the man is practically legendary. Everybody knows you’d snap his prick spinal cord if you got half the chance. He’s got something on you. But whatever it is . . .” LaMana took another cautious step forward. “This is it, Jack. The end. He’s coming for you.”
    “That’s no reason to go over.”
    “You’re gonna let that child-selling hemorrhoid rub you out? Just like that? No fight or nuthin’?”
    Jack looked LaMana in the eye. The Butcher looked right back.
    “Maybe I don’t deserve to live.”
    “Oh, I get it.” The kingpin nodded. “I see. Penance for that shit at the wharf. Is that it?” He kept nodding. “Shit. You’re the only one of your kind I ever met who had a conscience.”
    “My kind?”
    “You don’t get to be kingpin without the ability to read people. It’s like my superpower. Maybe you won’t come over. BUT . . .” LaMana leaned in and lowered his voice. “I want to give you something to think about.”
    Jack tilted his head to listen. It was only polite.
    “The only thing that keeps—that has kept Pimpernel and me from tearing this town apart . . . is you.” He tapped Jack on the shoulder. “And by the Holy Trinity, that’s the truth. Why Pimpernel would give you up, I got no clue. And as much as I want to, I ain’t gonna ask. But it’s happening. That much I know. He’s gonna kill you, Jack. And once you’re gone . . .” LaMana let his voice trail off.
    Jack ran it forward like a