In the House of the Wicked by Thomas E. Sniegoski Read Free Book Online Page A

had created a weapon, a bomb so terrible that it was guaranteed to bring Japan to its knees. They planned to drop it on a Japanese city, and Deacon had found a way to harness the energies of the many who would die as a result.
    “Ready in five…” Deacon began the countdown, eyes riveted to the clock.
    Stearns watched as well, as the second hand made its inexorable pass around the clock’s face.
    “Four…”
    He again wondered about this bomb.
    “Three…”
    Deacon said that they had nicknamed it Little Boy.
    “Two…”
    Certainly not a name that struck fear in the hearts of men.
    “One.”
    How powerful can it really be? Stearns wondered as the machine in the center of the room came suddenly to life with the most cacophonous of sounds.
    And the life energies of those instantly slain when the atomic bomb detonated over the Japanese city of Hiroshima were collected.
    And delivered unto them.

CHAPTER THREE
    Remy was surrounded by sleep.
    He sat on the red couch in Linda’s apartment, his girlfriend curled up on one side of him and Marlowe, lying flat on his side as if he’d taken a bullet, snoring at his feet.
    The Housewives was over by the time Remy had arrived, but Linda had saved him some wine and they’d cuddled until sleep had claimed her. Shortly afterward, Marlowe had succumbed, as well, leaving Remy alone with the television.
    But mostly it had left him alone with his thoughts, and there was much to think about this night.
    Like what he had been doing traveling to New Hampshire to confront the murderer of Charlotte Marsh and her daughters. At the time it had felt like a completely rational thing to do, and that scared him.
    He wasn’t thinking like himself. And what about the next time? Would the angelic side of his nature persuade him that it was perfectly all right to mete out God’s justice on the wicked?
    It was only a matter of time before he started burning people who were double-parked with the flames of Heaven. That was what he had been afraid of, why it had taken him so long to allow his angelic essence to meld with his human persona. He would have to be careful in the coming days; obviously, there were still some bugs to be worked out in the unification of his two sides.
    And then there was Steven. Remy could fully understand his friend’s anger, but there was very little that he could do to make things right. The snake had been let out of the box, so to speak, and there was nothing Remy could do to put it back. Steven had gotten dangerously up close and personal with an aspect of the world not usually seen by humanity, and for that Remy was sorry, but that was really all he could be.
    It wasn’t as if he had some magical way to take away the memory of the experience. Besides, if that was the case, their whole friendship might as well be excised from Mulvehill’s mind. Remy remembered the night that Steven had lain dying at his feet, afraid of what awaited him. Wanting to offer him some peace, some certainty of what was on the other side, Remy had revealed his true face to the homicide detective.
    He’d never expected Mulvehill to survive, but he had, and they had been close friends ever since.
    But now he had seen too much of Remy’s world and nothing could change that.
    Remy had no choice but to let things be as they were, to give Steven the space that he needed to process his experience. And maybe, with time, they could once again be friends.
    “I think that’s sad.” Linda’s sleepy voice spoke, as if commenting on Remy’s thoughts.
    “Excuse me?” he asked, startled, looking down at the top of Linda’s head as she snuggled up tightly beside him.
    “The little girl,” she said.
    “I have no idea what you’re…”
    “On the news,” Linda said groggily, and Remy looked at the television to see that the local news was on, and there was, in fact, a little girl on the screen.
    The child, no older than six or seven, lay in her bed surrounded by dolls and stuffed animals.