I hurry down the Riverwalk, a long mall with stores to my left and the gray Mississippi River to my right. The mall is mostly clear of shoppers, though the air is filled with the smell of fish and popcorn. I would puke if I hadn't already in the hotel parking lot, right after leaving Wife Beater Phil's room.
My left hand is clutching the Go-Phone I picked up on my way to the Riverwalk, and my bag is slung over my shoulder. I step onto the balcony, letting the cool breeze wafting over the Mississippi sneak across my neck and face, chilling the sweat.
I always sweat after a kill. Profusely.
I pull my cellphone out of my pocket. I have a text message, but right now, I don't care. I just want to go home.
I look up Karl's number in my contact list and stab it into the Go-Phone. I press send and lift it to my ear.
Karl answers on the second ring. “Dimitri?”
“It's done.” I hang up and toss the Go-Phone over the railing, into the river.
The balcony is empty. I move to the side, just out of sight of the doors, and use my duster jacket to shield as I drop the gun, silencer, and Ralf's wallet after the phone.
My vision begins to tunnel. I lean back into the wall and close my eyes.
***
In the grand summoning chamber, I stand face-to-face with Karl. The only time I'm relieved to see his skin-stretched skull is after dumping the murder evidence and fleeing town. Better than spending another six hours on a plane. And once he knows the request has been fulfilled, there is no risk of the hum coming back. At least, until the next wish.
“All done?” He smiles at me in his stupid, repulsive way.
I tap my temple with a finger and turn to leave.
A familiar woman's voice says, “Dimitri? May I see you in the other room?”
I halt, then roll my eyes and face the lady of the house. I use this term loosely. Eileena, the demon womb. I trust nothing that spawned the likes of Silvia. Probably from an egg sac laid in some poor sucker's chest.
She ticks up the corner of her mouth. I think it's meant to be a friendly gesture. She might want to practice in the mirror.
She nods for me to follow. I clomp across the chamber after her. Her long blue dress with elaborate gold trim swishes on the floor as she walks. Her dark hair is twisted on top of her head, revealing her slender tan neck. No one could deny the likeness between her and Silvia.
We exit out the side door and follow down a hallway into one of the libraries. The main area of my house would fit into this one room.
As soon as she closes the door behind us, her attempt at angelic falls off like a snake skin. “Silvia wants to go out.”
My stomach twists, but I play it cool and shrug. “She need some bar recommendations?”
Eileena's eyes narrow. “You will take her, Dimitri. Else I might need you to do some runs in South America for me. Deep in the jungle. No air conditioning, no hot water. One little wish from Karl. Don't think I can't convince him to do it.”
“I would go with 'nag like the bride of Satan,'” I say, “but 'convince' is a good word too.”
She takes a step toward me.
I put up my hands. “Okay, I got it. I'll take Silvia out.”
“Now,” Eileena says.
I push past her, out of the library, and head to Silvia's suite. I knock on her door.
She answers, and her eyes flash but not with surprise. It's that unsettling look she always gives me.
She clasps her hands in front of her and says, “Oh, Dim! I wasn't expecting you!”
I size her up. Her hair is pulled back in some ponytail thing and she's loaded down with jewelry.
“Yes, you were,” I say. “So shut up and let's get this over with.”
I stalk down the hallway. She follows after, jingling behind me as we exit out one of the front doors. I don't slow as I cross the yard to my Accord, which is waiting unlocked with the keys on the dash.
I drop inside and start the engine. Silvia crawls into the passenger seat, then stares at me as I back out of the estate and onto the dirt road.
She lights up a cigarette. “Why do you drive these piece of shit cars?”
“Tell your dad to get me a new Bugatti.” I roll down the windows because cigarette smoke lingers in upholstery forever. It's disgusting.
“I'll buy one for you.” She taps ashes out the window.
I scoff. “You really have no idea how this operation works, do you?”
“Yes, I do, and that's why I'm going to change shit around here once my old man keels over.”
“The way you smoke, he's going to outlive you.”
“Hmm, I don't think so.” She flicks the barely-used cigarette out the window.
She picks up my hand lying on the console. I resist pulling away because, in truth, I am her inheritance. The thought always makes me a little dead inside.