From Hell With Love: A Secret Histories Novel Read Free Page A

“I’ve never tried to run it. Or run away from it.”
    I sighed, plucked the cigar out of his mouth, dropped it on the ground and stamped on it. Luther made a shocked, pained sound, as though I’d just shot his dog. I gave him my very best hard glare.
    “Do you have a problem with my being here, Luther?”
    He would have liked to glare at me, but his cool and laid-back persona wouldn’t let him, so he settled for looking down his nose at me. There was a lot of nose to look down. Noses run in our family. (Old family joke. Really old. You have no idea.) Luther must have realised my attention was wandering, because he stuck his face right in close to mine.

    “Just for the record,” I said. “Second-hand cigar smoke is in no way attractive.”
    “This is my town,” said Luther. “My territory. No one knows it better than me. The people, the organisations, the schemes and the hustles. They didn’t need to send you. I could have handled this myself. I’ve handled a lot worse in my time, and never once made a ripple in the waters. I have a reputation for getting things done and keeping things quiet, and I don’t want it upset. I operate without being seen, behind the scenes. I keep the lid on things, I defuse situations before they get out of control, and no one ever knows I was there. It’s the only way you can operate, in a media-saturated town like this. The last thing I need is a show-off, grandstanding overachiever like you, coming in here playing the hero, overturning the applecart and then setting it on fire. I know all about you, Eddie. No gesture too dramatic, no action too violent. Well, you aren’t going to operate like that here. We can’t make waves; we’d be noticed. Even after everything you’ve done recently, we’re still supposed to be a secret organisation of secret agents.”
    “After everything I’ve done?” I said, innocently.
    He wanted to splutter and raise his voice. I could tell.
    “I know your reputation,” he said doggedly. “It doesn’t impress me. You’re impetuous, you’re unnecessarily aggressive, and you’re sloppy! How many times have you been seen in armour in public? That’s not how we get things done!”
    “I saved the entire world from the Hungry Gods,” I said.
    “And got a lot of good Droods killed in the process. You’re not getting me killed, rushing in where devils fear to tread. This is my territory, and we’re going to do things my way. Either you agree right now to follow my orders, or I’ll kick you out of town and deal with this problem myself. And to hell with the Matriarch’s instructions!”
    I considered him thoughtfully. “If my girlfriend was here, she’d make all your pubic hair fall out, just by looking at you in a Certain Way. I’m not as subtle as she ˚ is. So either you agree to work with me, as a full partner . . . or I’ll just punch you repeatedly in the head till your eyes change colour.”
    “You see! You see! This is what I’m talking about! You can’t operate like that in a city like this!”
    “Pretty sure I can,” I said.
    He glared at me for a moment, and then his face went studiously blank, his eyes cold and calculating. “Is it true?” he said. “Did you kill the Grey Fox?”
    “Yes,” I said. “I killed my Uncle James. And he meant a lot more to me than you do.”
    “I knew James,” Luther said flatly. “Worked with him on a few missions, back in the day. He was a good man, and a real agent, and a credit to the family. I knew your mother, too. Your father, less so. They got themselves killed by rushing in without first . . .”
    “Don’t go there,” I said, and something in my voice, or perhaps in my eyes, stopped him dead.
    “Things were better the way they used to be,” Luther said finally. “Back when the Droods were a real power in the world, and the world did what it was told. For its own good. Now, countries and governments and organisations all go their own way, and the Droods . . . are just