Hard Day's Knight by John G Hartness Read Free Book Online Page A

barely even looked up from his keyboard as he muttered “Pig” at me. By the time I’d gotten to my closet he had four Firefox windows open with a different Google search running on each one. I swear I think instead of super vamp-speed he got super-fast typing when we got turned.

    I went over to my closet and started loading up for bear. I usually only carry one good knife tucked into the back of my belt, but this gig had been anything but usual so far. I put on my shoulder holster and grabbed my Glock 17. I checked that it was loaded with silver bullets, and put a spare magazine of silver ammo in my back pocket. I loaded the holster with two spare magazine with regular ammunition, and strapped my backup to my right ankle. I carry a Ruger LCP for a backup when I think things could go really bad, and everything I’d seen so far told me things could go from “peachy” to “holy crap” in the blink of an eye. I put another knife on the other ankle, rolled my jeans down to cover all the hardware, and straightened up, reaching for my black hoodie. Greg had turned away from the computer and was sitting still, staring at me.

    “How bad do you think this is going to get?” He looked as worried as I’d seen him in a long time, and I sat on an arm of the couch and looked at him.

    “Bad. I don’t know what we’re up against, but if what was in that little girl isn’t the boss, and I don’t think it is, then whatever is running this operation is even meaner.”

    Greg sat back in the chair and sipped on a juice box. I don’t know where he picked up that habit, because all it did was make him pee purple half an hour later, but he was hooked on the silly things. “Then guns and knives aren’t going to be a whole lot of help, are they?”

    “Probably none at all,” I admitted. “But just on the off chance that they might be useful, I think I’ll bring them along. Besides, the really bad guys use human pawns a lot of the time, and guns and knives work just fine against humans. That reminds me.” I reached into the floor of the closet and grabbed a couple of spare magazines for the LCP . They went into a jacket pocket.

    “Man, you can’t go killing innocent humans just because they got suckered into working for a big bad! That’s not how we operate!”

    “I know, I know. If I take out any humans, I promise to verify their complete and utter evil-ness first.” I might have grinned a little, but just a little.

    “Don’t be a jerk. I just meant…”

    “I know what you meant. I promise not to kill anyone that doesn’t deserve it.” I held up one hand, three middle fingers together. “Scout’s honor.”

    “You were never a scout. They wouldn’t let you in.”

    “Objection, your honor! Relevance!” That got a chuckle out of him. “Look, Greg. I promise I won’t kill anyone who’s not a bad guy. Trust me?” I started towards the stairs.

    “Of course I trust you. Hey Jimmy?” I stopped, not turning to look at him. I knew what he was about to suggest, because I’d already thought of it. He was right, of course, but I didn’t want to think about it.

    “Do you think we should talk to Phil?”

    “Probably.” I still hadn’t looked at him. I could feel him looking at the back of my head, and it was a little itchy.

    “You going to talk to him now?”

    “Only because I have to.” I hate dealing with angels. They always make me feel so damn
unclean
.

Chapter 10

    I’ve never been a fan of strip clubs, and I’m even less of a fan of angels, so putting the two together is so far out of my comfort zone it’s like dropping Huck Finn into Times Square. I walked across the parking lot into Phil’s place, shaking my head as always at the blue neon sign flashing “Heaven on Earth” to the passing traffic. I paid the cover, flashed my library card at the bouncer and mojo’d him into thinking it was a driver’s license. I’m not terribly photogenic, so I haven’t had a license made since