Books of Blood by Clive Barker Read Free Book Online Page B

been  at death's door.
    'You look terrible,' Harry told him.
    'No matter,' he said. 'It'll all be done soon.'
    Harry turned to Byron.  'How  about calling this brother-in-law of yours?'
    While  Byron  set to doing so, Harry returned  his attention to Valentin.
    'I've got a first-aid box somewhere about,' he said.
    'Shall I bandage up that arm?'
    'Thank you, but no. Like you, I hate the sight of blood. Especially my own.'
    Byron was  on the phone, chastising his brother-in-
    law for his ingratitude. 'What's your beef? I got you a client! I know the time, for Christ's sake, but business is business . . .'
                      45'Tell him we'll pay double his normal rate,' Valenun said.
    'You hear that, Mel? Twice your usual fee. So get over here, will you?' He gave the address to his brother-in-
    law, and put down the receiver. 'He's coming over,' he announced.
    'Now?' said Harry.
    'Now,' Byron glanced at his watch. 'My belly thinks my throat's cut. How about we eat? You got an all night place near here?'
    'There's one a block down from here.'
    'You want food?' Byron asked Valentin.
    'I don't think so,' he said. He was looking worse by the moment.
    'OK,' Byron said to Harry, 'just you and me then. You got ten I could borrow?'
    Harry  gave him  a bill, the keys to the street door and an  order for doughnuts and coffee, and Byron went on  his way. Only when  he'd gone did Harry wish he'd convinced  the poet to stave off his hunger pangs  a  while. The   office was  distressingly quiet without him:  Swann  in residence behind the desk,
    Valentin succumbing to sleep in the other chair. The hush  brought to mind  another such silence, during that last, awesome night at the Lomax house when Mimi's demon-lover, wounded by Father Hesse, had slipped away into the walls for a while, and left them waiting and waiting, knowing it would come back but not certain of when or how.  Six hours they'd sat -
    Mimi  occasionally breaking the silence with laughter or gibberish - and the first Harry had known of its return was the smell of cooking excrement, and Mimi's cry of 'Sodomite!' as Hesse surrendered to an act his faith had too long forbidden him. There had been no more  silence then, not for a long space: only Hesse'scries, and Harry's pleas for forgetfulness. They had all gone unanswered.
    It seemed he could hear the demon's voice now; its demands, its invitations. But no; it was only Valentin.
    The man  was tossing his head back and forth in sleep,
    his face knotted up. Suddenly he started from his chair,
    one word on his lips:
    'Swannl'
    His  eyes opened,  and  as they  alighted on the illusionist's body, which was propped  in the  chair opposite, tears came uncontrollably, wracking him.
    'He's dead,' he said, as though in his dream he had forgotten that bitter fact. 'I failed him, D'Amour. That's why he's dead. Because of my negligence.'
    'You're doing your best for him now,' Harry said,
    though he knew the words were poor compensation.
    'Nobody could ask for a better friend.'
    'I was never his friend,' Valentin said, staring at the corpse with brimming eyes. 'I always hoped he'd one day trust me entirely. But he never did.'
    'Why not?'
    'He couldn't afford to trust anybody. Not in his situation.' He wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand.
    'Maybe,' Harry said, 'it's about time you told me what all this is about.'
    'If you want to hear.'
    'I want to hear.'
    'Very well,' said Valentin. 'Thirty-two years ago,
    Swann  made a bargain with the Gulfs. He agreed to be an ambassador for them if they, in return, gave him magic.'
    'Magicr'The ability to perform miracles. To transform matter.
    To bewitch souls. Even to drive out God.'
                       47'That's a miracle?'
    'It's more difficult than you think,' Valentin replied.
    'So Swann was a genuine magician?'
    'Indeed he was.'
    'Then why didn't he use his powers?'
    'He did,' Valentin replied. 'He used them every night,
    at