Page 96 of A Shade Too Far
“Wow, I think he’s got you there,” Laurent said.
Naveen glanced over his shoulder. “Do shut up.”
The two of them were making things worse. Men.
I rapped on the counter. “Is Torquemada a demon? You know, the Grand Inquisitor in Spain in the 1400s? These two idiots can’t tell me anything, but you look like you have the skinny on a lot of intel.”
Chester sniffed and shook out his now-healed arm. “No. He was one of yours.”
“And the Torquemada Gloves? Who was the demon who cursed them?” It didn’t matter whose skin they were made of, but maybe finding that demon could help us save both Tatiana and the Banim Shovavim?
“You’re wasting time with a long shot,” Laurent sneered.
I planted my legs wide, my chin up, and my hands on my hips. “But choking him was a brilliant idea?” I nodded at Chester. “I apologize for him.” The saying “you could catch more flies with honey than vinegar” applied even to demons. “Do you know who the demon was?”
“No one does.”
“But the gloves were part of the blood libel in Avila in 1491?” I said.
“Yes. The demon was attracted by the evil done in the name of the Inquisition. It is said that he rampaged through the inquisitors, his pleasure and his power magnified in torturing the torturers,” Chester said. “It is said that those men ended up shredded like they’d been torn apart by a ravening wolf.” The demon flicked his gaze to Laurent.
“Bit before my time,” he drawled.
“Then our business is done.” Chester headed for the door to unlock it, but Naveen stabbed the light staff through the demon’s hands, wrenching them above Chester’s head.
“Finally,” Laurent said.
Naveen chucked the demon under the chin with his free hand. “Give us the woman’s name, Chester. You’re wasting my time.”
The demon’s skin sizzled, black bits flaking off. The staff hummed, its light growing darker and darker as the demon’s features grew more and more pinched, and his breath hitched. “Stop.”
Patches of green skin bloomed over the demon’s body, his hands mangled blobs of charred flesh.
“Give me a reason to,” Naveen said.
“I’ll make you a deal.” The demon’s voice had turned guttural, reminding me of a Klingon.
“Let’s hear it,” I said. “Take out the staff so Chester can speak.”
Naveen glared at me, but he yanked the weapon free.
Chester sagged against the counter. His hands were gone, his forearms withered to burned stumps covered in pus-filled welts.
“State the deal.” Naveen made the staff vanish.
“There’s an item I’d like retrieved from a colleague of mine.” Chester sat down on a tall stool, his breathing shallow. Green skin incrementally knit together. “I’ll give you the woman’s name and location once it’s in my possession.”
“A demon artifact, I presume.” Naveen’s lips pressed into a thin line of displeasure.
“Done,” Laurent said.
There was no doubt in my mind that the second Laurent had that information he’d go directly there and kill the Banim Shovavim. I had to reason with him not to do anything hasty.
Naveen’s jaw clenched but he didn’t contradict his friend. “What is it?”
The demon took a labored breath. “His eye.”
With his wound healed, a glamor once more spread over the demon’s actual skin like a pebble rippling a lake until he looked human again. There was the tiny matter that he now had six fingers on his left hand, but hey, the eczema was gone.
