“I’m afraid Hatchet got carried away in my absence,” Wulf said. “Nothing serious, but she might drool a little for an hour or two.”
Diesel gave Wulf the key, and Wulf motioned for Hatchet to release Glo.
“You would make a terrible general,” Wulf said to Diesel. “You’re willing to sacrifice the many for the one.”
“I was under the impression the key had already served its purpose.”
“It’s the key,” Wulf said. “It’s the last step in the process.”
“How do you know?”
“It was all in the little book. While you were out bumbling around searching for clues, I was studying Lovey’s sonnets. And I finally have the last piece of the riddle.”
“Why did you have Hatchet following us, trying to get the key and the clues, if it was all in the book?” I asked him.
“There was no guarantee that the book would give me the final clue. Lovey was a complicated, devious man. So while I was working my way through his obscure references, I directed Hatchet to ensure you didn’t succeed in your treasure hunt.”
“What did you give Glo?” I asked. “She looks drugged.”
“Hatchet was showing her his prowess with a knife and he sliced a little deep,” Wulf said. “He gave her an herb to stop the bleeding, but it has some side effects. She should be fine in a few minutes. Hatchet acts the fool, but he’s one of the world’s leading experts on medieval torture and toxins.”
“Thank you, sire,” Hatchet said.
We led Glo out to the car and buckled her in.
“Are you okay?” I asked her.
“Peaches,” she said. And she drooled on her shirt.
We stopped at Diesel’s apartment, got Carl, and put him in the backseat with Glo.
“Eeh?” he said to Glo.
Glo nodded her head like a bobble-head doll. “Pigeon.”
“Maybe we should take her to the clinic and get her checked out,” I said to Diesel.
Diesel drove to the clinic, but by the time we got there, Glo was coming around.
“That was f-f-f-freaking scary,” Glo said, her teeth chattering. “Hatchet is nuts!”
“Do you want a doctor to look at your cut?” I asked her. “Do you think you need stitches?”
“No. I want to go home. I want to take a shower. I can’t get the smell of dirt out of my nose.”
“They must have had you in a cellar with a dirt floor,” I said.
“Maybe, but I think the smell was coming from Hatchet. I don’t think there’s any electricity in that house. It was dark, except for a lantern-type flashlight Hatchet used to show me his knives. He had them all laid out on a table. Some had curved blades, and some had wavy blades, and they were all different sizes, and they were all razor sharp. He said he’s been collecting knives since he was seven years old. And he had a suitcase like traveling salesmen use, and it was filled with powders and potions you could use to poison someone. And he had poisonous spiders in jars and vials of snake venom.
“It might have been cool to see all that stuff if I wasn’t handcuffed. I always thought it would be fun to be handcuffed in certain situations, but turns out it isn’t fun to be handcuffed in any situation. It’s scary, scary, scary. Especially when someone picks out a knife and deliberately cuts you with it. And after I talked to you, he wanted to try out another knife and make another cut, but Wulf walked in.”
“Wulf stopped him.”
“Yeah. Wulf got real mad. And let me tell you, when Wulf gets mad, you’re afraid to even breathe. I could see him from the light of the lantern, and he didn’t have any expression on his face, except his eyes were black and hard, like black glass. And when he spoke, his voice was soft, but every word was clear and precise, like he knew he was talking to an idiot. And I got the feeling if the idiot didn’t do the right thing, he could be drinking the snake venom.”
“Did Wulf say anything about the Luxuria Stone?” Diesel asked Glo.
“No. He doesn’t talk much. He asked Hatchet if I made the call. He looked at my arm to see if I needed stitches and decided it wasn’t necessary. Then he told Hatchet to clean it and bandage it. And when Wulf was near me, he smelled like Sambuca. Totally terrifying and at the same time I had this crazy desire to lick him.”
“I’ve noticed that same scent,” I said. “Whenever Wulf is near, I always catch a faint hint of anise. You always smell like Christmas,” I said to Diesel. “You smell like butter cookies, fir trees, and cloves.”
“It’s a curse,” Diesel said. “Women and small children follow me around.”
Glo looked out the window. “This is your street,” she said to me.