"General Semyazah!"

Nothing. I feel around in my pocket and pull out Mason's lighter. I spark it and hold it high like I'm hoping for an encore of "Free Bird." The room fills with light. Thousands of souls that haven't made a sound in years suddenly try to speak. It sounds like a wind from the far side of a hill. Some souls rush to me and fall to their knees, holding their hands up in prayer. They think I'm Jesus at the final judgment come down to save them. Sorry, but I don't think any of you are high on the Rapture list.

"Semyazah!"

Someone yells back at me. The voice is faint at first, but it gets louder as the crowd shifts, parting for someone muscling his way through. I can't tell much about him except that he's wearing the filthy remains of a Hellion officer's uniform. I head toward him with the lighter over my head.

It takes about twenty minutes for us to meet in the middle.

"General Semyazah?"

He hesitates, not sure if he should admit it.

"Yes," he says.

"I'm here to get you out of here."

"Are you? And why would the Father send an angel for me, one of his most devoted betrayers?"

"God wouldn't send you a pizza even if it was your birthday. And I'm no angel. I'm Sandman Slim."

Semyazah is thin but moves gracefully, like he was built to always be in motion. His face is almost as scarred as mine. When he smiles half of it doesn't move.

"Another one? I've met a hundred Sandman Slims down here. You're not any more impressive than any of them. Less, in fact, in those filthy rags. Besides, Sandman Slim is mortal. You're Hellion."

"No. He's not. It's him," another voice says.

I close the lighter and turn. The crowd sighs and groans when the light disappears.

It's Mammon.

"Enjoying my face, are you?"

Where his face should be is all raw red pork roast.

"Hi, General. How's the neck feeling?"

Semyazah looks at me but talks to Mammon.

"This is who butchered you?"

Mammon nods.

"I'm afraid so."

I hold out my hand to Semyazah.

"Shake my hand, General," I say.

He looks at me like it's the last thing he wants to do.

"I'm not asking you to be roommates, but I've come a long way to see you. It's the least you could do."

He lifts his hand slowly and puts it in mine. It has weight and mass. I can feel it.

"Mammon was telling the truth. They stuck you in here alive."

"And they took great delight in watching me go."

"I know the feeling."

We're both looking at Mammon, who looks right back at us.

"Rumor is you're not a fan of Mason Faim. How would you like your legions back and a chance to stop Mason's war from destroying your world?"

He straightens and squares his shoulders.

"Our war with Heaven was just. It was for the worthy cause of releasing angels from our existence as slaves. Mason Faim's war is pure vanity. He's used that and fear to gather the generals who've fallen in with him. I want no part of it and I believe that other generals agree with me but are too frightened to say so. As you see from my circumstances, public disagreement has a high price."

"So you'd like to stop him."

"Very much."

"Good. Then let's get you out of here."

I didn't realize how hard I'd been concentrating on Semyazah until the conversation stopped. Talking to another living being was like being sucked into a different whirlpool of light down here. When I look around we're surrounded by souls. I recognize a lot of them. Most at the front are military men and women I killed. Azazel, my old slave master, the Hellion who made me into a killer, is there. Beelzebub. Amon. Marchosias. Valefor. Maybe a dozen others. There are members of Hell's nouveau riche in ghost furs and jewels. Beyond them are rows and rows of other Hellions and human souls. More than a hundred. I've never seen them in one place before. I had no idea I'd killed so many down here. They press in from all sides, trying to crush me. But Tartarus has reduced them to empty spirits with no substance. Shadows on panes of glass. I manifest the Gladius for a second and they stumble back, leaving a no-man's-land around me.

"What a lovely trick. If I'd known you could do that, I wouldn't have bothered giving you the key," says Azazel.

"How's retirement treating you, boss?"

Azazel is the Hellion general who put the key to the Room of Thirteen Doors in my chest. I used it to move around Hell and kill for him. I slit his throat before he had a chance to ask for it back.

"I wondered if I'd ever see you down here someday, and here we are. Reunited at last."

"Don't get too choked up. I walked in on my own."

"I showed you your power. I made you what you are," he says. "You could show a little gratitude."

"I could have tortured you to death, but I killed you quick."

Semyazah's eyes narrow.

"You came into Tartarus voluntarily. Why?"

"To get you." I glance at the crowd. It's still packed with dead generals. I speak louder so they can all hear. "I've got good news and bad news for you. The good news is that you won't have to suffer down here much longer. The bad news is that Mason Faim is going to burn the universe to the ground. He doesn't care about Heaven. He just wants the high ground for his attack. And he's probably going to do it in the next few hours."

That gets their attention. I hear whispers and then actual voices from the crowd.

Semyazah says, "You intend to take me out of here?"

"Yes."

"That's absurd. Tartarus has been here for hundreds of thousands of years. If it was possible to escape, someone would have done it by now."

"That's the great part. Who do you think Hell's armies would rather follow, a mortal who made a lot of promises but hasn't delivered on anything or the biggest baddest general ever? The only Hellion who ever walked out of Tartarus."

That starts the chatter again. Generals lean together like they're forming battle plans.

"So how can we do it?" I ask.

"You can't," says Azazel. He looks at Semyazah. "You can't trust this creature."

"Why should they trust you?" I ask. "They all know you sent me to kill them. Now you want to keep them in Tartarus just because you can't get out?"

There's a slow murmur as faces turn in his direction. In Tartarus's gloom and despair, a lot of the dead forgot that it was Azazel who's responsible for sending them here. Some old wounds are fresh again. Azazel looks around and fades back into the crowd.

"How does this place work? Is this meat locker Tartarus or is the machine?"

Semyazah says, "The place and the furnace are parts of a single punishment device. Tartarus is the machine that runs the universe. It provides heat and energy to light the stars, Heaven and Hell, and every place where mortal and celestial life dwell. And we're the fuel."

Mammon gives a mad, gleeful little nod. He says, "We're the souls judged so worthless or relentlessly vile that the universe has no more use for us. All we're good for is fuel for the fire."

Did Muninn, Neshamah, and his brothers think up Tartarus on a particularly good day or a bad one? Did they mean to create this place or is it another one of their mistakes? I'm going to have to reconsider whether the demiurge is evil or not because this place is on a whole new scale of evil.

I watch the Metropolis proles working away at the furnace and boiler. Gears and pipes and valves stretch from the floor, spread to the three enormous pipes that disappear into the ceiling.

This is it. God's ultimate revenge for his kids letting him down. Eventually we'll all end up down here. Right now it's only the most monstrous souls, but Muninn and his brothers will get tired of watching humanity fuck up and we'll end up cordwood, too. So will the rest of the angels. Even Humanity 2.0, 3.0, and 100.0 will eventually disappoint them. When there's no one left to punish, why would they keep Hellions around? We'll all end up in the furnace, warming the brothers' palace, a tiny dot in an empty universe, while they sit around arguing like old biddies for the next trillion years. Or until one of them gets fed up enough to crack open the Big Bang crystal and put them out of their misery, too.

The furnace workers cut down more souls from the conveyor and toss them in the fire.

"We can't get out the way we came in, but what about up there?" I point to the machine. "Are there any maintenance areas or access tunnels? Someone built this place. Someone has to maintain it."

"No. God in his infinite wisdom built the furnace well," says Semyazah. "It might be his greatest achievement. His perfect creation."

Even Mammon doesn't argue with him.

When I think about leaving Alice with Neshamah, I get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. He knew what I'd find down here. Wouldn't it be the biggest joke in history to have survived Hell, Lucifer's games, and Mason's bullshit just to have God murder Alice while my back is turned? I can't even go back and check on her. All I know is that they're in a parking lot in Eleusis. In L.A., gosh, there can't be more than fifty of those in the area.

"Has anyone tried attacking the workers?"

Some of the generals nod.

"The furnace has divine protections against that. We have some of the most powerful witches, warlocks, necromancers, and djinn in existence here. They've tried every imaginable type of magic to destroy the furnace or break down the walls. They've even combined their powers. Nothing has worked."

"Where exactly does the furnace go?"

A female Hellion general with a hole in her chest says, "One conduit goes up to Heaven. One to Hell, and one to the rest of the universe."

"Then that's the way out. How do we attack?"

The souls nearby whisper to each other like they're going to be held after school if they get caught talking. Azazel smiles smugly. With his meat-loaf face, it's hard to tell if Mammon is smiling, too. Even Semyazah has turned away.

"Hey, assholes, I only chanced coming down here because there were supposed to be a lot of sharp G.I. Joe types. You've been standing around with your thumbs up your double-dead asses for years, so you've had time to suss out the weak spots in the machine's defenses. What are they?"

Semyazah points to the furnace.

"An attack is simple in theory. We're deemed powerless, so there are virtually no defenses around the furnace."

"Who are the salarymen bleeding the steam? Are they fighters? Can I take them?"

"You don't have to. They're the Gobah. Angels who rebelled after we were thrown from Heaven. Their punishment was that Father took their minds and sent them here."

"If they're not in charge, who do I go after?"

"Chernovog," says Mammon.

"He was the leader of the second rebellion."

"Where is he? I can't see him."

"No. You can't. The Father took away his visible form, leaving him nothing but an empty space in the air."

"How do you know he's there?"

"Beelzebub. Come over here," yells Semyazah. I remember Beelzebub. He put up a pretty good fight when I crept into his palace. I had to cut him up pretty bad to kill him. He seems to remember, too, because he's not in any rush to get near me.

"Stand at an angle," Semyazah tells him. "Come here," he says to me. When I get there: "Look."

It takes a minute to see it. Beelzebub was always a flash boy and his armor is like a gold mirror. As I stare at the reflection of the furnace, a seventh worker slowly comes into view on a platform high above the others. He's bigger than the other Gobah. He moves well and seems to still have a mind. He climbs all over the furnace on his arms and legs like a spider monkey, making tiny adjustments. He leaves the heavy work to the drones down below.

After a minute, Beelzebub lurches away and sinks back into the crowd.

"You see? No soul, angel, or Hellion can attack Chernovog," says Semyazah.

I think I just found out why Heaven calls me an Abomination.

"Then it's lucky for you that I'm none of those things. I'm a nephilim."

A few of the Hellions laugh. Mostly the military types. The rich ones roll their eyes. Most just stare.

"The nephilim are dead," says the female general. I think I might have put the hole in her chest with the na'at. "Before we fell, I commanded one of the companies dispatched to hunt them down. The few we didn't kill killed themselves. Temperamental children, all of them."

"I'm the last one because I was born after you pricks played Kristallnacht with the others."

It's the same as before. Laughs. Eye rolls. Stares.

"I'm Uriel's son."

That shuts them up.

"I notice he's not here with us. Someone is going to have to talk about that. But right now I have to kill another angel. See if it brings back any fond memories."

I look around for Beelzebub, but he's long gone. Just as well. His armor is as ghostly as he is, so I can't steal it off him and use it to see Chernovog.

"General Semyazah, come with me but don't get too close. The rest of you can follow or you can stand here and generally fuck off. I don't care. But if you get in my way, I'll put you in the oven myself, feetfirst."

It's a long way to the front of the chamber. Tartarus would be a lot more fun with Segways.

Christ. Look at the shit I do. How can I drag anyone into a life like this?

I've never tried to kill a God before, but if Neshamah has put a scratch on Alice, I'm going to try.

The front of the crowd is exactly what I thought it would be. Hellion garbage collectors, street sweepers, and small-time merchants. The officers and Hellion elites are all bunched at the far end of the place, leaving mortal souls, Lurkers, and working-class Hellion slobs to be fed into the furnace first. I bet some of those Hellion heavyweights have been hiding at the ass end of Tartarus for centuries. You'd think one of the drones would break up the tedium and take souls from the back of the room once in a while. I'd volunteer to sharpen the hooks for them.

The crowd gives me a wide berth when I make it to the furnace. I walk up to the machine slowly, waiting for the Gobah to react. I don't think they even see me. They're drones that service the dead. I bet they can't even see the living. They don't even twitch when I stroll past them. I jump up, grab a valve, and pull myself onto the machine, heading to where I saw Chernovog working. I whisper some simple hoodoo as I go.

Steam bleeding from pipes rolls down and wraps the upper boiler in a hurricane of opaque heat. I reach Chernovog's platform and hoist myself over. A few feet over my head I see him. Chernovog is a negative space in the steam. An angel-shaped ghost enveloped in burning mist. It's goddamn hot up here. If I'd thought about it, I'd have gone for him Greco-Roman style. Oil up and take him down naked instead of wrapped in a wool coat and heavy boots. I'll put that in my memory book for the next time I destroy one of God's perfect creations.

Chernovog is banging on the furnace controls with a monkey wrench, trying to stop whatever is causing the boiler to bleed so much steam. I manifest the Gladius and take a swing at his leg. He screams as I burn off part of his left foot, then does his spider-monkey thing up into the mist. I go to the middle of the platform, looking for any odd movement in the steam. Listening for movement overhead and feeling for weight shifting on the platform. Chernovog drops down behind me. I pretend I don't notice. When he's close I drop to one knee, spin, and swing at his legs. I catch the edge of one. He screams again. But even with a leg wound, he jumps straight over my head and onto the boiler before disappearing.

Chernovog is somewhere overhead. I catch glimpses of empty spots in the steam. Sweat is rolling into my eyes. I have to keep rubbing it away with my coat sleeve just to see. The hissing of the steam makes it hard to hear his movements.

Something smashes into my left arm. Chernovog swings his heavy wrench. I dodge it and he disappears. I look at my robo arm. Not a scratch on it. I admire it just a little too long. Chernovog slips up from behind and gets a better shot at my right shoulder. The pain blinds me for a second. I fall forward and almost burn a hole in my own leg with the Gladius.

I look up in time to see Chernovog scrambling up and away on all fours. I get to my feet, trying to see where he went, when he jumps onto my back from behind. I spin and push back, driving him into the hot metal on the front of the boiler. Chernovog squirms a little, bites down, and tries to take a piece of my ear. When I shake him off, he disappears.

I don't even get a chance to look for him this time. He rolls past me and hits my leg with the wrench. I slash down with the Gladius but miss him by an inch. Then he's on my back again. Then gone. He hits my arm with the wrench. Slams into my chest and drives me down on my back. Gone again. The prick's actually getting faster. I get to my knees and use the railing to pull myself to my feet. Between the steam and the sweat in my eyes, I can't see a thing. I turn in circles, swinging the Gladius randomly at the steam just trying to keep him off. The angel in my head says something terrible and I want to shove him back into the dark, but I'm afraid he might be right.

I'm playing Chernovog's game. And I can't beat him.

I slash the bars off the side of the platform with the Gladius. I'm exhausted. The steam makes it almost impossible to breathe. I catch glimpses of Chernovog shooting back and forth on the face of the boiler. I let the Gladius go out. Is it technically playing possum when you're about to do something that might amount to suicide?

I know what he's going to do and I wait until I see him do it. An empty spot in the steam streaks toward me as Chernovog leaps from high up, hoping to land on me and crush my chest. I bark some arena fighting hoodoo, holding off on the last syllable until Chernovog is a foot above me. Then I say it and roll off the platform as the air turns to fire.

Who needs Mason? It feels like I just blew up the universe myself. I've never done the air-burst hex inside before. I figured it might work since the only things not ghosts already are Chernovog, Semyazah, and me. After you set off a hex like that, the trick is to stay out of its way. Falling from the furnace, I stay just ahead of the blast. I chant one more arena hex and make an air pocket to cushion my fall. It isn't exactly like landing on a feather bed, but it keeps my bones from turning to butterscotch pudding.

I still can't see a thing. Steam is everywhere and the heat from the furnace feels as hot as ever. Souls howl and scramble away from the explosion. In a few minutes, the steam drifts away and the temperature cools. Like a magic trick, the boiler emerges from the mist. It's caved in on itself, the bottom twisting as the face and overhead pipes came down. The bottom is twisted slag and the transit pipes droop from the ceiling like metal stalactites. Chernovog and his drones are gone daddy gone.

Cold air and a white celestial light streams down one of the pipes and lights up Tartarus for miles. I don't even bother checking what's on the other end of that one. I hope they have electric blankets in Heaven because it's going to get cold tonight.

The light from the second pipe is bright, but flickers and is colder than Heaven's glow. That's the way to the stars and earth. I hope Neshamah, Muninn, and Ruach up in Heaven and the other two brothers heard what just happened here. Cleanup on aisle two, boys.

Nothing comes out of the third pipe. No light. No air. No nothing. I crawl up into the bottom. There's a breeze, but it flows almost imperceptibly upward. The angel feels it long before I do. But I know what's important. Overhead, the ground is blown open. Beyond it are rolling black clouds lit underneath by fires in the hills. Hell's half acre never looked so good.

I yell, "Semyazah!"

He stands under the pipe and peers into the sky.

"I never thought I'd see the sky again."

"You can write a sonnet about it later. Get up here and get climbing."

I manifest the Gladius, shove it into the pipe, and pull it out quickly. I do it again at an angle to the other hole and again a few feet higher. I put my foot into the first hole and my hand in the second, pulling myself up. I punch climbing holes all the way to the top.

When I get out I can see the Fourth Street Bridge. Sweet. It's close enough that Medea Bava had to feel the explosion. I hope the falling sparks kill her pretty lawn.

Semyazah yells down the pipe for the others to start up. Lurkers are scrambling up the sides of the pipe, holding on like geckos. They reach the top and run into the gloom, whooping as they go.

Scrub trees and dry weeds growing along the sides of the railroad tracks are burning. A pile of abandoned railroad ties makes a pretty bonfire. Too bad there aren't any marshmallows in Hell.

"Come on, General. Let's get you to Pandemonium."

He looks around at the industrial waste.

"How? We're halfway across Hell."

"See those nice fat shadows by the railroad ties? I'll show you a shortcut."

We go to the fire, but before taking him into the Room of Thirteen Doors, I stop.

"What happened to Uriel? I know Aelita killed him, so he must have ended up in Tartarus. If he's still down there, he would have found me."

Semyazah nods but doesn't look right at me.

"I wasn't there when Uriel came to Tartarus. I heard that the Gobah were waiting for him. He was taken to the furnace immediately."

That's pretty much what I imagined. Aelita's a planner. She'd have everything set up in advance. Smart woman. Dead woman.

I shake my head, trying not to show anything other than information received.

"Okay. Let's go."

We step into a shadow.

TWO POTENT LEY lines meet where Beverly Drive and Wilshire Boulevard cross. Beverly Hills is a major power spot in a city that's a major power spot. The layout of Convergence L.A. might be twisted all out of shape, but power is power and Lucifer's palace is right where the two lines meet. But his palace is different here. And it's not his palace anymore. It's Mason's. Other than that, I'm right about everything.

Back on earth, the Beverly Wilshire Hotel has some of the most expensive rooms in the world. The nicer ones average around 10K a night, but that's okay because the mints on your pillow are extra big. The hotel was built in the twenties, when movie stars were still movie stars, rich people skin-popped monkey glands to stay young, and black people had to come in through the kitchen. Except for the big screen TVs, Louis XIV wouldn't feel out of place there. In case you're slow and haven't figured it out yet, the Beverly Wilshire is Lucifer/Mason's palace in Convergence town.

Semyazah and I are on the roof of a Bank of America building a few blocks down Wilshire. An earthquake has smashed most of the first three floors and fires gutted the rest. The roof seems stable enough, though I wouldn't want to be us if a big quake hits right now. From here, Semyazah and I can see most of Beverly Hills. It's filled with Hell's legions, attack vehicles, and weapons. Many, many troops and weapons. They stretch for over a mile in every direction. On another day, seeing all this Infernal firepower would make me consider wetting my pants, but today it's just one more thing to cross off my bucket list.

"We need to talk over some things before you go to your troops."

Semyazah only half turns. Most of his attention is focused on the soldiers in the street.

I say, "I'm going to tell you a few things and you're going to have to go along with them or all of this is going to fall apart."

Now he looks at me.

"I've been a general in the Infernal legions since we fought in Heaven. I'm not used to taking orders from a mortal. Especially one who's killed my people, good soldiers, for eleven years."

"At least you chose to be down in Heaven's toilet. I was shanghaied."

Semyazah touches a finger to his lips.

"We seem to have reached an impasse."

I shrug.

"Stay up here in the cheap seats if you want, but I'm going to try and stop this thing, and if that means killing every one of your pals in uniform, oh well. And after I save your shitty little world, we can call the movers for your stuff. I hear there's plenty of room in Tartarus these days."

I start for one of the fat shadows cast by the hill fires.

"Try to understand my position," says Semyazah. "I can't very well rally troops to my side by telling them that I allowed myself to be rescued by our worst enemy."

I look back at him.

"That's the best part. You're not going to mention me at all. You broke out of Tartarus on your own. You got all the brujas and wizards and table tappers together, organized them, and you led the final assault on the Gobah yourself."

"I don't know. It's easier for them to believe that I've been cowering in a hole somewhere."

"Mammon knew where you were in Tartarus, so the rest of them will know, too. And I guarantee they all heard the explosion when the boiler blew. Between that fucked-up uniform and the blisters on your face, they'll believe you."

"Possibly."

"Tell them you broke out to save your men from Mason's war."

Semyazah grunts.

"It's a good line because it's true," I say. "Mason is as suicidal as he is homicidal. He wants to burn down everything you ever cared about."

Semyazah looks at the palace and absentmindedly touches the blisters on the side of his face that was toward the blast. They probably hurt like hell, but they'll help convince the other officers he was in a serious fight.

"There's one other thing," I say. "It's going to piss you off, but you can use it to persuade any of the holdouts."

"What is it?"

"The Kissi are coming. I cut them into the game. It wouldn't be a party without them."

He's back over to me in three quick steps.

"Are you mad?"

"Relax. Just because they're crazy doesn't mean they aren't useful. But when it comes to dealing with them, you need to listen to me."

His eyes narrow. He's wondering if Azazel was right and I'm the liar who's going to get them all killed.

"I'll need to hear your plan before I agree to anything."

"Fair enough. You're going to need whatever generals you still trust and some goddamn fast runners."

IT ISN'T HARD to guess where Lucifer's office is. The penthouse is huge. It's basically an old-school Hollywood mansion bolted to the top of a classy hotel, with multiple bedrooms, a kitchen, I don't know how many goddamn showers, plus expensive furniture and enough art to start a tacky museum. San Simeon meets the Playboy Mansion.

In the middle of a large meeting room is a table with the same floating 3-D map I saw at Mammon's palace. A gaggle of Hellion generals and staff officers are gathered on the balcony talking, arguing, and waving their hands describing details of battle maneuvers.

I stay half a step behind Semyazah, playing the humble underling. No one turns our way until I clear my throat extra loud. The officers turn. Then do nothing for a few seconds. A couple head over to Semyazah.

"General?"

"You look surprised to see me. When Hell is at war, then I'm at war and nothing could keep me away from my legions. Not even Tartarus."

More officers come over.

"Did Mason free you?" asks a general who, if I remember right, might be Belial.

I say, "No one lets anyone out of Tartarus. The general led the escape himself."

They seem to notice me for the first time.

"Who is this?" Belial asks.

"Just a guide," I say. "The general freed us from Tartarus, so in gratitude I showed him the quickest route back here."

The oldest and most battle-worn of the officers steps out in front of the others. It's Baphomet, one of Lucifer's first converts.

"That's quite a story, General," he says. "It might answer a troubling question. When we heard the rumbles to the south, Mason Faim ordered us to use artillery to lay waste to that entire region of Pandemonium. I refused an order. Firing on my people was never part of our plans. I persuaded much of the officer corps to join me. Now it seems that Mason Faim has disappeared, allegedly preparing his own alternate war plan."

"What plan?" asks Semyazah.

"I have no idea."

A pale officer comes to stand beside Baphomet. I think it's General Shax.

"The truth is that many of us have been having increasing doubts about this mortals' war. What will it profit either of us if both Heaven and Hell are laid to waste?"

Semyazah steps forward and gestures for the other officers to come closer.

"The destruction of both worlds has always been Mason Faim's plan. Let me tell you what I know and you'll understand why he banished me."

While they talk, I slip back out the same shadow we used to come in.

I COME OUT in Lucifer's old office. Mason has taken it over completely. All the Hellion art and tapestries showing the fall from grace are gone. Maybe they weren't ever here. This version of Lucifer's office looks like a top-floor office at the New York Stock Exchange. Nice paneling. Cushy chairs. A lot of expensive-looking paintings on the walls. I prefer Lucifer's slaughter art. At least that didn't look rented.

Mason's office is part office and part lab. A lot of the equipment is the same kind of alchemical gear that Vidocq uses. There's an area with machining tools and a home-brew blast furnace that's scorched one wall black. It's surrounded by stacks of raw iron slugs. The floor and tables are covered with dozens of failed copies of the key to the Room of Thirteen Doors. I wonder how many of those keys I can shove up Mason's ass before they come out his eyes.

Papers, blueprints, scrolls, and spell books are scattered all over Mason's desk and the floor. Someone has dumped the contents of the drawers on the floor. I sit in Mason's desk chair, close my eyes, and step aside so the angel can take over for a while and read the room. It feels around for any signs of him, not just in the room, but also in the aether, where hoodoo leaves trails and powerful magic leaves the magician's fingerprints. There's nothing there. Not an easy trick. He really wants to keep his backup plan to himself.

There's something familiar in a wooden box doubling as a trash can. I upend it and the leather satchel Jack stole from me falls out. I open it and take out the carefully folded cloth. My face is still there. At this point I'm so far past numb that I'm not even happy to find it. More like relieved that there's one less thing to run around after.

I push everything off Mason's desk with my robo-bug arm and lay out my skin. I chant, letting the rhythm and the hougans' words drift back into my head. I rub my temples until the flesh goes soft. When it feels loose I pinch the edges and pull. Mammon's face peels away like the bandage off a wound. I concentrate, keeping the rhythm going while I press my face into place. The skin burns slightly as it settles and reattaches itself. I stop the chant and take my hand away, go to Mason's worktable, and paw through the junk for anything reflective. I find a polished metal toolbox and hold it up.

I recognize this guy. He smokes all my cigarettes and gets me in trouble. And when I find Alice this face won't scare her as much as the other. Of course, she hasn't seen all my scars. She might not think this is an improvement.

If the bag is here, it means Jack must have made it back. But if Mason tossed it, that means he wasn't much interested in Jack's swag. I'm a little hurt. I thought he'd at least have my face stuffed and mounted like those mariachi frogs you get in Tijuana.

"Is that you, Stark? Or are you another bad dream?"

The gurgling voice drifts in from an open window. Something is moving out there, casting a wavering shadow on the floor. I get out the na'at and push aside the curtains.

There's a heavy chain and something wet and red dangles from it, swaying gently with the breeze. It's too small to be a side of beef and too big for pork.

The meat smiles at me.

"Are you real?" it asks.

"Hello, Jack. You're not looking so good."

"I'm not, am I?"

He gurgles the words. There's a lot of blood in his throat, just one of the many downsides to being skinned alive (or as alive as Jack can be). He giggles high and crazy as the breeze moves him in gentle circles. Suddenly being tossed into the Tartarus furnace doesn't seem so bad. At least it's quick.

"As you can see, I received somewhat less of a reward than I'd hoped for," Jack says. He grimaces, grinding his teeth as the pain cuts through whatever mad place his mind has gone to.

"What happened?"

Jack kicks his fleshless legs in frustration.

"He didn't even want it. He was disgusted by it and by me for bringing it. He said he already knew where you were."

"Did he say how?"

Jack giggles again.

"It wasn't much of a conversation. My contribution consisted mainly of screams."

This time the laughing doesn't stop. It goes on until it's kind of a mantra. It stops when he coughs up a bucket of blood.

Why do I feel sorry for this murdering thieving psychopath? He's getting exactly what he did to all those women.

"I've got to go, Jack."

"Toodle-oo," he says. "Toodle-oo. Toodle-oo. Toodle-oo . . ." He sings it like a kid's song.

The angel in my head prods me.

When the wind blows Jack around so his back is facing me, I jam the black blade between his ribs and into his heart. He stops singing. Twitches for a few seconds. Then slows. Then stops. Then vanishes.

Even a bastard like him doesn't deserve what Mason did. Soon he'll wake up in the ruins of Tartarus and climb out like the rest of the double dead. He'll wander there forever, a ghost among the ordinary souls. I don't know if that's justice, but sometimes you take what you can get.

I say, "Olly olly oxen free, Josef. It's showtime."

A second later the Kissi's standing by the desk.

"I hope this isn't another excuse or delay," he says.

"Delay? You're already late for the ball. Get the kids in their Sunday best and bring them out front. It's time to go."

He struggles not to let his smile get too broad and loses.

"It's about time. When we destroy Heaven's armies and the Hellion legions are gone, I think I'll take this palace for myself. I like the desk and have always admired that little furnace. What happened to the hanging man outside? I was thinking of getting several of them and using them as wind chimes."

"Bring your troops out front with the legions. Feel free to make a gaudy entrance."

Josef disappears. I pronounce a few words and the glamour that's hidden my being alive fades away. There's no point to that anymore. I go to the nearest shadow and disappear, too.

I COME BACK out on the reviewing balcony. The officers are in a ring around the floating map as Semyazah explains the plan. I shoulder my way into the ring before anyone can react.

Knives come out, but no one throws any angel hoodoo. I'm next to Semyazah and they don't want me quite enough to risk making him collateral damage. Baphomet, the oldest, isn't intimidated. He heads straight for me, a long curved blade in each hand.

"I've waited a long time for this."

Rule one in wolf-pack territory is stand your ground. I manifest the Gladius and hold it up to his face. Curses and gasps erupt around the room.

Semyazah pushes me back and gets in front.

"Enough!" he barks at Baphomet. The old general stops, confused. I guess even he can't do the sword trick. If any of the others can, Semyazah has intimidated them enough to back down.

"Sandman Slim fights with us against Mason Faim."

Baphomet says, "Why should we trust this monster now?"

I say, "I'm not here for your piano recital. I'm here because the enemy of my enemy isn't exactly my friend. But he isn't my enemy until this shit is over."

"You haven't been here for months. How could you know what's happening in Hell?" asks Baphomet.

"Didn't Lucifer mention it to you? He gave me his password to The Daimonion Codex. If you squint hard enough, you can see past the words and into every nook and cranny in Hell. I watched every one of you assholes betray each other, trying to get just an inch closer to Mason." I look at Baphomet. His eyes are red with fury. "Mammon, who poisoned your troops before the attack exercise in Dis. He's dead now, by the way. You're welcome." I look around at the circle. "Do you want a laundry list of which one of you shafted the other and how? How about it, Shax? Belial?"

Semyazah says, "Lower your weapons, both of you. Sandman Slim fights with us, and whatever happened in the past can be dealt with after the battle."

Baphomet sheathes his knives like a kid who has to put back the cookies he stole before dinner.

Shax says, "I still don't trust him. You said he's involved with the Kissi. They don't have a stake in this fight. Why would they come?"

I look up at the sky.

"Why don't you ask them yourself?"

Shax and the others follow my gaze.

Something bursts through the burning clouds. It comes in a long solid line that snakes from the clouds. It spreads out, staining the air black. Then the dark breaks apart into a thousand pieces and settles to the ground like a plague of giant locusts. One bug heads straight for us and lands on the edge of the balcony. Josef steps down and bows. Not Aryan supermodel Josef. Kissi Josef.

He looks like an unfinished insect angel. His features are half melted, like sculpted wax. Josef glows faintly with a blue-white light that makes him look like a bottom-of-the-ocean predator. He's so awful he's almost beautiful.

He walks to the circle of officers. Stops and waits when he reaches the line. A hole opens up and Josef steps through. When he reaches Semyazah he gives a bow small enough to be a head bob.

"I'm honored to meet Tartarus's destroyer, General Semyazah."

Josef offers his hand to shake. Semyazah reaches for it. It's a pure act of will. It will be inexcusably rude if he doesn't and Josef will read it as fear, not disgust. The general barely gets through it.

"Did you get the battle plans to the right people?" I ask Semyazah.

He nods, trying to make the comment look casual.

"As best as we can spread the new strategy to so many in so little time. We'll know soon enough if it's worked."

"A new plan?" asks Josef. "Why have you changed your attack so close to battle?"

He's suspicious. I don't have to be able to touch his mind to see that.

Semyazah says, "Because Mason Faim is no longer a part of this battle. You are. That changes how we deploy our troops."

"And how is that, General?"

"Heaven knows we're coming, but they don't know about you. As the Kissi's leader, you will ride point with Sandman Slim and myself. Your troops will travel in tight formation behind a legion of our infantry. This will hide the Kissi until the last minute. Before we reach Heaven's gates, our legions will part to reveal you. The shock will allow us to flank Heaven's battlements and crush its armies between us. Is that clear?"

"As the pristine vacuum of space."

Semyazah turns to his men.

"And to the rest of you?"

Heads nod. There are noises of agreement.

Semyazah goes to the edge of the balcony. The legions are spread out below him in every direction.

He shouts, "Release the hellhounds!"

There's a whir like prop planes and clanking like all the garbage cans in L.A. are being pounded on the ground at once. A mechanical hound the size of an elephant walks across the hotel lawn. Soldiers move back and leave a lane for the hounds to pass. Behind the elephant hound, the regular hellhounds come pouring from their pens in the underground garage. They paw the ground and snarl. Brains slosh in spinal fluid within the glass globes that are their heads. That's how you motivate your troops. Get them anxious to start the war just so they can get away from the dogs.

Out in the street, Unimogs and flatbeds arrive. In regular Hell it would be the big hounds pulling carts loaded with trebuchets, siege towers, and Hellion versions of Roman ballistae. Here it's trucks pulling cannons, rocket launchers, and mortars. The vehicles have huge animal horns on the front and metal barbs around the body and over the top. I wouldn't want to have to attack one.

"It's time to go, gentlemen," Semyazah says. "Our fall from Heaven took nine days, but our rise will take mere hours."

He looks at Josef.

"I'll meet you downstairs with your army."

Josef nods, spreads his wings, and launches himself from the balcony.

Semyazah pulls me aside.

"Are you sure your people are going to go along with this?" I ask.

Semyazah watches Josef go.

"We'll know soon. If not, we'll both be dead. Even if we win, we could be killed, so what does it matter?"

"You didn't get the pep-talk badge in Hellion Boy Scouts, did you?"

IN FRONT OF the hotel trainers gather the smaller hellhounds into packs by the giant hounds. Weapons specialists with faces like children's nightmares do last-minute adjustments on their equipment. A lot of them recognize me. Their eyes go a little wide when they see my new arm and all the dried blood on my coat. I was expecting more hostility, but they know I'm here with Semyazah, so maybe having Sandman Slim on his side gets him extra brownie points. I'll be his beard if it gets the job done.

Semyazah says, "My men are bringing up your transport. Which would you prefer, a male or female hellhound? The males are stronger, but the females are faster."

"Fuck you. I didn't sign up to be Tarzan. Get me a truck or a Harley or anything else, but I'm not riding one of those things."

One of his officers drives up in a red Ferrari Testarossa. He gets out and hands the keys to the general.

"This is Mason Faim's vehicle. I thought you might be more comfortable in it," says Semyazah.

I walk around the car, running my hand over the nearly frictionless surface.

"Damn, General. I think you almost made a joke a second ago."

Semyazah tosses me the keys.

"If both you and the car survive the battle, I suggest you use it to get away from Pandemonium. When the fighting is over, Sandman Slim will be the next target for a lot of my men."

I rub my shoulder where the new arm is attached.

"Let's hope there's enough of us left to worry about that."

Semyazah walks around the car. His lips are drawn and thin. He hates the mortal stink on it.

"You'll be able to keep up in that. You, Josef, and I will be in separate trucks at the front. Can you handle a vehicle like this?"

"Just keep the trucks and hellhounds off my back. I'm not looking to pull a Jayne Mansfield down here," I say. "One question. This isn't a convertible. If I'm tucked up in here, how is anyone going to know it's me?"

"Mason Faim might have driven this, but he wouldn't have taken it into battle. You're the only one stupid enough to do that."

"Cool. That's even better than vanity plates."

As Semyazah goes he calls over his shoulder.

"Meet me where the Kissi are massing on the other side of the palace."

It feels a little weird using keys to start a car. I turn them in the ignition and the engine roars like a stealth fighter. I give it some gas and pop the clutch. Hellions scatter as I blast across the lawn straight at Josef and his big boys.

The Kissi formation wavers and falls apart as I drive right at them. Josef doesn't move.

At the last minute I downshift, crank the wheel, and grab the hand brake, spinning the car in a one-eighty and stopping in front of him.

"Very funny," says Josef. "You always were the king of comedy."

"And I don't work blue. You'll play the big rooms if you work blue."

Semyazah, in full battle armor, rides shotgun in a Unimog. The armor is dented where it was hit with bullets and crossbow bolts and slashed with heavenly swords. Another truck pulls up next to it for Josef. He doesn't try to hide his disgust when he sees it. Kissi fly into battle. He must feel like an invalid having to ride. I just hope he doesn't do anything clever and fuck things up. I gun the Ferrari and wait for the order to move.

Climbing on top of the Unimog, Semyazah gives the signal to fire up the vehicles. The growl of a thousand engines and gears shifting is something you feel as much as you hear. Your rib cage shakes and your heart bounces around in your chest. I could do this every night.

Fireworks burst overhead. Skyrockets burst in spiderwebs of green, gold, and red across the sky, lighting the bottom of the roiling clouds. That's our cue. I pop the clutch and we roll forward.

Good night, moon. Good night, world. Whichever way this turns out, nothing is ever the same again.

You'll never know how stupid I feel, Candy, fucking off to war in this four-hundred-horsepower road rocket when I should have stolen one back home and taken you to Mexico or Vegas or even the real Venice Beach. I wish we'd had more time and gotten a chance to bust up more hotel rooms. Vidocq once told me that you can't judge your life by the moments you missed, but only by the ones you got. We didn't get many measured against eternity, but it's better than nothing.

I hope Lucifer is Upstairs and knows what's coming. He's known how my head works for a long time. Fingers crossed I know something about how his works, too.

I hope Neshamah is taking care of you, Alice. This is going to work or it's not. It's that simple. I've never strung together so many strands of bullshit before. If God won't save us, maybe tall tales and lies will. Maybe all the crap I've pulled my whole life will turn out to be useful for something besides cadging drinks and pulling girls, and my still being alive will mean something. I let the world kill you once and I'm trying like hell not to let it happen again.

I wonder if Neshamah has the crystal out, ready to break it if Heaven burns and Hell cracks open and swallows itself? Be cool, old man. Wait till the credits roll. No twitchy trigger fingers tonight.

We're heading south toward the port and the refineries. The trucks, APCs, and tanks spread out across the empty freeway, ripping the roadbed to pieces. It trembles and cracks, kicking up a hailstorm of concrete and rebar and tossing it back at the trucks in the rear. I keep up the Testarossa's speed. I don't want to end up in that rolling shit storm. The hill fires have rolled down through the city and flames rise up around us on both sides of the road.

A couple of miles ahead, the top deck of the freeway has collapsed and one end is lying on the street below. Semyazah and Josef either don't care or don't notice. I do. I'm goddamn concerned that my kidneys don't end up as hood ornaments. If I stop, the trucks riding my bumper will crush me. There's no shoulder to pull off on and no detours. Fuck it. I jam the accelerator to the floor. Let's see how far this little red wagon can fly.

The collapsed slab shudders and pieces of roadbed follow the Testarossa over the edge. It's not a fall. It's more like shooting down from the top of a roller coaster. The car plummets and gradually levels out on a pristine lower freeway level a hundred lanes wide. The road is stained with thick patches of solvents and petrochemicals, but in this twisted light they shine like jewels and fallen stars. The Glory Road to Heaven.

It's not long before we see a glow ahead, like the sun has set the other side of the world on fire. But there's no sun here, just smoke and the glow, and I know the moment I see it that the light ahead is Heaven. I look around for Semyazah and Josef. We have to stay together for this.

Finally I can see Heaven itself.

It spreads out straight across the whole horizon, a monster parody of L.A.'s southern refineries. God's little acre in the gleaming industrial skeleton of a prehistoric beast. Mountainous burn-off towers, catalytic crackers, and soaring distillation units are steel spines along the beast's back. Heaven's steel-pipe bones glow gold, illuminated by a thousand sodium-vapor lights. And on every catwalk, crow's nest, and gantry, armed angels are waiting for war.

I hold my breath and wait for something to go wrong. Slowly let the air out of my lungs. Don't think too much. Don't jinx it. Just drive. I tick off the seconds, imagining Heaven's golden pipes exploding and the place burning. It turns to rivers of molten metal that flow down the Glory Road to flood Hell and then the rest of Creation.

We're right at the refinery's gates. I can't believe how high they are and how close we are to them.

War whoops blare from loudspeakers mounted on the trucks. Fireworks explode overhead. The signal.

Semyazah and I peel off from the point of the attack. It's like when I spooked the Kissi at the hotel. I crank the Testarossa's wheel hard, hit the brakes, and use the hand brake to send the car into a hundred-and-eighty-degree spin. Then I floor it, following Semyazah back the way we came, staying close to the edge, inches from the guardrail. The Kissi army blasts straight at Heaven's gates as the Infernal legions close in behind them.

There's a noise like a nuke going off. Heaven has opened fire. With the halo polishers in front and the Infernal legions at their backs, the Kissi are the bologna in a death-row sandwich. Adios, Josef. Send me a postcard from the Big Nowhere.

Something slams into my rear bumper, knocking me into the guardrail. I scrape along it for half a mile, peeling metal off half the side of the Testarossa. I'm swallowed in blackness as something huge jumps over the car, heads down the freeway, and turns to face me. It's one of the giant hellhounds. It bellows and lowers its head until I can see Mason on its back wearing Lucifer's golden armor. Momentum carries me toward him, and the hellhound raises one of its front feet to stomping position. I hit the accelerator. The hound is strong but it's not as fast as a Ferrari.

When I'm about to go under the stomping foot, I spin the wheel right, slamming into the other leg. The hound wobbles. When I pull away, the car is making nasty sounds and shudders every time I pick up speed. I think I just broke the frame. I should have bought the rental insurance.

I'm almost clear of the hound when one of its legs kicks the rear end. The car almost stands on its nose and flips. Now it's making a brand-new bad sound. The rear axle might be cracked. Nothing to do now but see how long this heap holds together.

Every time I try to get up speed, the car shudders like it's going to fall apart. I can't get it over sixty. A grinding and thumping comes up through my feet. The rear axle is definitely cracked. No way I can outrun the hound.

It charges me again. When it gets close enough to flatten me, I hit the brake and slide underneath it.

The hound gets one of its paws under the hood and rips the top off. I stick my Kissi arm out the window and slash at the hound's leg as I go by. Something splashes over the windshield. Hydraulic fluid.

I keep running. Mason's hound is still in my rearview mirror, but it's slowing down. The hydraulic line to one of the hound's front legs spews fluid all over the freeway. It can't get enough pressure to bend the leg. The hound sways from side to side, looking like it's about to fall.

As a group of Semyazah's Heaven-bound hellhounds passes us, Mason throws a hoodoo power bolt, knocking the rider off a medium-size hound. He jumps onto it as his dog stumbles off the edge of the freeway and crashes in a burning ditch. Mason turns the hound around and heads down the freeway back toward L.A.

He pushes the dog hard. I try to catch up, but he's way ahead of me and soon disappears. I keep the Testarossa pegged at sixty. Metal grinds against metal. Please hold together just a little bit longer, just until we get off this road and I can find somewhere with deep fat shadows.

As the Testarossa closes on the collapsed freeway section, I get a bad feeling. It won't make it up to the top. The rear end screams and drops. The car is still moving, but suddenly I'm dragging an Italian precision-engineered plow, kicking up sparks and digging a deep furrow as I go. Up ahead is a minefield of broken pavement the trucks kicked up. I can't steer clear in time. The car's cracked frame bottoms out and the shudder nearly shatters my teeth. I hit the brake and let the car roll to a stop.

I have to kick the door open to get out. Fires burn along the freeway. I'm back by the furnace in Tartarus again, except this time there's enough light to make deep fat shadows. I dive in.

At least one thing has gone right today. The Kissi are being taken out of the picture. They did their job. They made me look strong enough and crazy enough to be part of the war. Now I have to move on to the hard part, but all I want is a cigarette, a drink, and a nap. I probably should have just blown the universe up with the Mithras when I first got back to earth. This caring about stuff is too much goddamn work.

I GO THROUGH the Door of Fire and come out in Mason's office. It's the last place he should come, but I know he'll be here. People are funny. When they're dangling at the end of a rope, they head back to where they feel most secure, even if it's the dumbest thing they can do. But Mason is a bit smarter than your average thug. He has one thing none of those others have. He has Alice.

Mason is perched on the edge of his desk trying to affect exactly the kind of cool he doesn't have or he wouldn't be here. Alice is sitting in his desk chair. Her eyes are red like she's been crying. There's a black bone knife sticking point first into the top of the desk. It's hard not to charge him. I can probably get him before he throws a hex. Who am I kidding? The angel in my head points out that I'm not exactly in prime shape and that attacking Mason is what he wants. I go for him. Mason grabs the knife. Alice dies again and I get to watch.

I'm not even sure I want to kill Mason anymore. I want to force-feed him Vidocq's immortality potion. Then I'll do to him what he did to Jack. He can hang from the chain on the balcony, a chunk of raw red meat turning in the wind for a million years.

"Are you okay?" I ask Alice.

She nods.

"Where's Neshamah?"

She shakes her head.

"He's dead. Aelita came with raiders. She killed him and took the crystal. Then she brought me here."

Mason tosses the Singularity back and forth between his hands.

He says, "Do you know what this is?"

"No," I lie. "But I have a feeling you don't want to break it."

He smiles.

"So you do know what it is."

"I just try not to break anything angels steal from deities. Call it a fetish."

"He says it's a weapon," says Alice.

Mason catches it with a flourish, like a juggler.

"When I couldn't get the key to work, Aelita told me about the Singularity. It's been my private project ever since."

"If you want to blow up everything, you have what you need right there. Go ahead and do it."

He holds up the crystal.

"With this? It will just start another universe and all the whole humans-versus-God-and-monsters game will start all over again. No. When this place goes I don't want anything coming back."

"Neshamah never said it could do that."

"It can't. I can. That's why it was easy to duck out when Baphomet turned the generals against me."

Mason puts the Singularity in his pocket.

"The trick is to contain the explosion. Allowing the blast to happen, but preventing it from coalescing back into a new universe."

"How can you do that?"

He walks behind Alice.

"By setting the Singularity off within a divine object. Say a soul fresh from Heaven."

He puts his hands on Alice's shoulders.

"Her divine spark will increase the strength of the new Big Bang so that the new universe will blow itself apart before any of it can come together."

"I bet I can yank out your spine before you do anything with Alice and that goose egg."

"I don't need long. I was hoping for just a few more minutes before you got here."

"Where's Aelita? Did she desert you in your hour of need?"

He rolls his eyes.

"The silly bitch went back to Heaven. You know her obsession with killing God? She got Neshamah but she wants the brother still in Heaven. Ruach."

"She knew all about the Singularity," says Alice. "She said Ruach told her."

"Why would he give her something that could wipe out everything, including him?"

Mason wipes a few spots of hydraulic fluid from his cheek.

"Apparently, he thinks he's figured out a way to survive the blast. It's not possible, but he believes it and it got me what I wanted."

"So, you've got Alice, the Singularity, and the big knife. But you haven't done anything with any of it yet. What do you think happens now?"

"I'm going to set off my bomb and you're going to try and stop me, which means that one of us is going to kill the other one. Or we kill each other."

"I vote for the first one."

"Me, too."

Mason puts his hands together like he's praying. Something in the ceiling explodes, covering me with white powder. Does he want us to make biscuits together or fill me full of anthrax? The room turns to water and I fall through.

I wake up in our bed in the old apartment. I hear Alice showering in the bathroom. My head is a little fuzzy. I drank too much again last night. I'll cool it tonight. We'll stay in and watch the Argento marathon and order pizza.

Alice comes out of the bathroom toweling herself off. She's naked. She comes over to the bed and hands me the towel.

"Do my back, will you? And my hair?"

She asks like it's a burden to run the towel and my hands over her. I bend her forward and pull her against me, carefully toweling her from the small of her back to the nape of her neck. I start rubbing the towel through her hair and she leans back into it like a puppy being scratched.

"Kasabian called," she says. "Your little magic Circle is supposed to meet at Mason's place at ten."

I say, "They're going to have a long wait. I'm not going back. I'm quitting."

She turns around and hugs me to her naked skin.

"Really?" she asks. "I was hoping you'd say that. I don't like those people. Mason gives me the creeps."

"Me, too. I'm going to call some Sub Rosas I know and see if they can help me find a legit job. Nothing behind a desk, but not like the apocalyptic power stuff we've been playing with in the Circle. It's giving me bad dreams."

"That and the beer."

"You're right. We should buy better beer."

"You always know how to fix everything."

Alice pushes me down and climbs on top. She leans down to kiss me and her wet hair brushes my face. When she sits up again, her face isn't right. She morphs into a small brunette and we're not in the apartment, we're at the Beat Hotel in a room filled with broken furniture. Her face changes into a distorted combination of Candy and Alice. There's pressure in my head, like hands are pulling me apart from inside. I try to make sense of the woman's contorting face but I can't.

My vision explodes into different spectrums of light. I fall a long way, no longer seeing light, but separate photons working their way through the air.

My eyes snap open. I'm lying flat on my ass. The angel took control and pulled me out of Mason's hallucination. For the first time in a long time, I'm glad the angel is there.

I say, "Damn. Can I get a six-pack of that stuff before I go? That was more fun than trucker speed."

The prayer hands caught me off guard the first time, so when Mason curves his fingers into a new configuration, I throw up a defensive shield.

His hex flies past me and hits the office's big double doors. They turn bone white and fall apart, the dry wood turning to dust before it hits the floor.

That prick almost hit me with a ball of time. I've never tried that. I'm going to have to steal the idea.

I hit Mason with a quick series of hexes, alternating ice and fire, freezing and heating his skin so it splits open like the fault lines in the street. Follow it up with shots of pure pain to make his nerve endings sing. I finish by tossing a dozen pit vipers Mason's way. Their venom dissolves skin, turning blisters into what look like third-degree burns. They swarm Mason. I hear Alice gasp.

Mason isn't moving. The vipers haven't hit him that many times, but he seems out of it. I can't hear a heartbeat or his breathing. It could be anaphylactic shock.

Standing over him, I should at least be able to read that he'd had life in him once. When I touch his body, it falls to the floor like candy glass. Touching the phantasm broke the illusion. I spin around, looking for the real Mason.

Something crunches through my left shoulder. The pain turns off my brain. When I'm thinking again, I realize I've been stabbed three more times. I mumble a healing spell, but Mason is ahead of me, delivering a counterspell before I've finished mine. I'm suddenly exhausted. The angel reaches down and reads my body. There's something funny in my blood all of a sudden, but it's a Hellion brew he doesn't recognize. I fall to my knees and Mason pushes me down onto my back.

"I always admired your black knife. So, when I couldn't make a key to the Room, I made myself a knife. I think I even made some improvements. Let me show you."

He jabs the blade into me just under the collarbone and makes a downward cut to my sternum. He does this again on the other side so there's a big V sliced into my chest. He carefully puts the tips of the blade into the bottom of the V and pulls down my body, heading south of the border. Even through the pain I can tell he's not trying to kill me. He's looking for something. He drags the knife down my chest and something clinks. He's found the key. If he's going for my heart, I'll return the favor. I shoot my hand out and through his skin and bones, feeling around inside his chest cavity.

But whatever is in my blood is making it hard to keep my eyes open. Mason is playing operation, cutting me up like a weekend surgeon, but it doesn't even hurt anymore. I have my hand in his chest, but when I find his heart, I don't have the strength to grab it. My hand falls out of him as my muscles decide it's break time. I can't even keep my eyes open. It finally occurs to me that this isn't sleep. I'm dying.

The last thing I see before I'm gone is Mason pulling a piece of glowing metal from my chest. Then the lights go out.

AND I'M REALLY no-shit, no-fake-outs-or-take-backs, no-paralyzing-spells-or-glamours dead. I don't know how I know I'm dead, but I do and all I have are questions. Like, where's all the light coming from? I thought death would be a lot blacker than this. Also, it feels like I'm stuck in someone else's death because this one is two sizes too small. Death doesn't feel much like dying. More like being on a crowded bus. And what's with all the jagged edges that keep poking me? Maybe I'm still stuck in my dead body while it's on ice. Fucking great. My body's gone because one asshole stabbed me and now my soul is going to get the flu because another asshole stuck me in a morgue deep freeze. I fucking hate Mason. He can even make death a pain in the ass.

Somewhere far, far away, Alice is screaming. Then Mason screams. A pattern is developing. I don't know what's going on, but someone's moved my body. It's dark again, but I'm not on ice anymore. There's more screaming. It hurts my ears and I would really appreciate it if whoever's doing it would shut the fuck up and let me be dead. I sit up to tell them that, but it feels like I gained a thousand pounds since I died. My head and arm weigh a hundred pounds each. I open my eyes to see what's wrong with them, but they're fine.

Why are my eyes open if I'm dead? And why is there a second me standing there with Mason in one hand and a Gladius in the other? Alice kneels down in front of me.

"Are you all right?"

I try to tell her yes but all that comes out is, "Being dead is stupid."

Did I say that? I'm not sure, but it's true. I'm pretty sure I'm alive again because there's a big hole in my chest and it hurts like I got shot with rock salt and porcupine quills.

The other me drops Mason, kneels down, and puts his hand against my chest. I feel the hole closing, the bone, muscle, and skin knitting back together. I stare at the other me and my face stares back at me.

"Goddammit, did someone cut my face off again?"

The other me helps me to my feet. This close I see that he's exactly me. He's me without the scars and eleven years younger.

"How do you feel?" asks the other me.

"Like Lazarus if Jesus brought him back to life by having Mike Tyson use him as a speed bag."

"He's all right," says the other me.

Mason is on his back where the other me dropped him. I go for him, but I'm still a little limp, so I don't so much attack him as fall on him like a cow thrown from a blimp. The other me pulls me to my feet.

"I know who you are," I say to the other me. "It's quiet all of a sudden. You're the Boy Scout who's been squatting in my brain. You owe me back rent, fucker."

"Why don't you take it out of Kasabian's beer money? Or yours."

I look at Alice.

"Is this real? Or am I back in Mason's hallucination?"

She shakes her head and comes over like she wants to put her arm around me but remembers she can't and ends up standing a few feet away looking awkward.

"It's real. He appeared the moment you died and took the key back from Mason."

"Is Mason still alive?"

"Unfortunately. He's playing possum now," says the angel. "First he was afraid of me and now there are two of us."

"What just happened?"

"You died. The mortal part. But I'm not mortal. Cutting us like that wasn't going to kill me, so I brought you back."

"How?"

The angel smiles and picks up something small and black from the floor. It's about the size of a robin's egg and smells like cordite.

"It was Lucifer's stone. That stupid white rock we've been carrying around for months. It's a soul trap. When Mason killed you, it released me and sent your soul into the stone."

"He put it in your chest and touched your heart with his Gladius," says Alice. "It released your soul back into your body."

"And then you spackled me shut. You're a lot better roommate than Kasabian."

I go over to Mason and kick him a couple of times.

"Where's his knife?"

"Over here," says Alice.

I go over and pick it up.

"Good. I think it's time to wrap things up. Don't you?"

"The faster the better."

Angel me gestures at Mason.

"He's wearing Lucifer's armor. He can't die as long as he has that on."

"Get him out of it, will you?"

"My pleasure."

While angel me strips Mason, I get Mason's desk chair and roll it to the middle of the room. I get a chair from his worktable and set it facing the other.

"When you're done, bring him over here."

The angel drops Mason into his chair and I spin his knife in my hand.

"It's been a hell of a day," I say.

Mason nods.

"A little busier than most."

He keeps an eye on the knife. I'm tempted to tease him with it, but this whole thing has been about us playing kid games with each other, so I let it go.

I shrug off my coat and the hoodie, giving Mason and Alice their first really good look at my Kissi arm.

I look at Alice and what she said to me in that last dream comes back to me. "I love you, but I'm over your moony guilt trip. Dream about that girl you're lying next to for a change." She was right. I love her but that part of our lives is over with. Besides, Alice can't stand looking at the Kissi arm. Candy would love it.

I pull up my pant leg and cut the duct tape that's holding the .357 snub-nose in place. I toss the knife and it sticks into the floor between us.

I say, "I finally know why you left the lighter for me to find in your basement. It was so no matter how lost I got, I could always find my way through the dark and get right here, right now. It's taken a few twists and turns, but here we are. A couple of little lost lambs who finally found their way home."

Mason nods at the pistol.

"That was real poetry. If you shoot me with that thing, you're going to spoil the moment."

"I used to think we were connected because we're badass hoodoo men. But it's because we're losers. We can't kill the universe, and after all the shit we've pulled, we can't kill each other. And we can't keep doing this forever. So let's just do what we've both been wanting to do since we met."

"What did you have in mind? One of those retreats where men sit around in drum circles and talk about their fathers? Or take your gun and male-bond while knocking over some liquor stores?"

I open the chamber and tilt the pistol so the shells fall out. I put one back in, spin the chamber, and slap it closed.

"Let's keep it simple," I say. I pull back the hammer. "Since we can't seem to kill each other, we're going to let the universe decide which one of us dies. I'll go first."

Alice turns away. The angel has his arm around her.

I put the pistol to the side of my head. Pull the trigger.

Click.

I'm still alive.

I hand Mason the pistol, butt end first. The angel comes up behind him and grabs his shoulder. I toss the angel the knife. He holds it to Mason's throat.

I say, "Here's the thing. I didn't use magic just then, so neither are you. That angel on your shoulder can look inside you all the way down to your atoms, so he'll see if you try to throw any hexes. If you cheat or even think about cheating, Johnny Angel there is going to cut you a new blowhole."

Mason sits for a minute, both hands on the gun, letting it dangle between his knees, barrel to the floor.

"Before Christmas, please," says the angel.

Mason sits up. He doesn't like being told off by a halo polisher. But he still doesn't move the gun.

I hold out my hand.

"If you're that chicken, I'll take another turn."

That hits him where it hurts. He puts the gun to his head and cocks it. He looks straight at me. And blows his brains out.

Of course he blows his brains out. I'm not stupid. I said he couldn't use magic. I didn't say I couldn't.

The palace sways under me like it's a cruise ship. This isn't hoodoo or regular tired. I slide from my chair to the floor. The carpet is soft and comfy.

"What's wrong with him?" yells Alice.

"He's mortal now that I've left him. Get him into Lucifer's armor."

Someone straps big slabs of metal over my chest and back. When did we get to the Ren Faire?

Alice is in Mason's chair.

"Jim, can you hear me?"

"Yeah."

She waves her hand in front of me.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

I squint.

"When did you get thirteen fingers?"

"He's all right."

I stand on my own. The dizziness is gone. I feel better than I do 90 percent of the time. Sharper, stronger, and better focused. Lucifer wore this armor in Heaven. He fought in it. Killed in it. Bled in it and almost died in it. He's left a part of himself in it. I feel as strong and clear as I felt when the angel was running things.

"It feels good. Like someone put a V-8 in a MINI Cooper."

Alice says, "I don't think you should take the armor off while you're down here."

"Hell, I may never take it off."

The angel clears his throat.

"We're not done here."

"I suppose you're right."

"Mason is dead. Isn't it over?" asks Alice.

"You might want to stay here and skip this next part," I tell her. "One of us has to put on a show for the wolf pack outside."

"I'll do it if you aren't up to it," says the angel.

"No. I'm the killer, not you. And I have the armor. It should be me."

I look at Alice.

"Stay with her. Don't let her get grabbed by any angels or gods or elves."

The angel nods.

"What are you going to do?" asks Alice.

I pick up Mason's body and toss it over my shoulder. It hardly weighs anything. This armor is definitely coming home with me.

"Got to go out and become a god, baby."

Alice looks at me. I shift Mason so his blood runs down my armor.

"There are so many at this point, what's one more?"

I start to go out through a shadow, but bump into a solid wall. Ow. I forgot I don't have the key right now. Allegra can put it back when she splices us back together. It feels funny not having someone inside me looking over my shoulder.

In the elevator I take the Singularity from Mason's pocket and put it in mine. At the lobby, I go out onto the hotel's wide lawn.

The Infernal legions, fresh from slaughtering the Kissi, are spread out in every direction. Soldiers show each other fresh Kissi pelts and wings. For all the fallen angels have built down here, at heart they're still a bunch of morons pulling the wings off flies. Someone needs to work on that. Maybe I can set up a time-share for the angel. He can come down and teach them table manners and I can take care of business upstairs. Right now, though, I'm in wolf-pack country and this million or so killers are wondering who's the alpha dog.

I climb on top of Semyazah's Unimog and hold up Mason's body so everyone can see him. A cheer goes up. It's decent as cheers go, but it's not a Steppenwolf playing "Born to Be Wild" to a sold-out crowd cheer.

I manifest the Gladius and hold it up high. And swing it down. Mason's body drops and I kick it off the truck. When I hold up Mason's head, that's when the Thank-God-Bruce-is-finally-playing "Born to Run" roar hits. When I stick the head onto a set of longhorn antlers mounted on the truck, the screams get even louder. I stand there in Lucifer's armor with the Gladius burning, shining like a blood-soaked star.

A group of generals comes across the parking lot. I keep the Gladius burning but lower it to my side. If they're looking to pull an Ides of March thing, I have no problem whatsoever with running away.

General Semyazah is up front with Baphomet and Shax behind. Other officers spread out around them. Halfway to the truck they stop. Time for the bum rush. I should have kept Mason's head. I could beat a couple of them stupid with it before it fell apart.

The officers don't attack, but I still have a significant urge to run away. Semyazah kneels and one by one the other officers get down on one knee.

He shouts, "Hail horrors! Hail Infernal world! Hail Lucifer!"

The air is full of the thundering of the "Hail Lucifer!" Shit. No wonder rock stars go crazy. A mob like this can love you or rip you to pieces in a hot minute. And I don't have a tour manager to tell me what to do next. Time for one more slice of bullshit.

I hold up my hands and the crowd goes quiet.

"Tonight was a great victory against a great enemy. In the coming weeks and months you'll see some changes around here. Tonight, though, forget about war and blood and be happy that we're still where we should be and Heaven is still where it should be. Both could be gone now, but they aren't and it's because of your fearlessness. So tonight Lucifer bows to you."

I do it. I get down on one knee like Semyazah. The crowd goes apeshit. I get up while they're still screaming. Always leave your audience wanting more. I get my ass back into the elevator and up to the penthouse. My guts are in knots, but no one's taken a shot at me yet.

When I get upstairs Lucifer is there, chatting casually with Alice and the angel like they're deciding whether to rent Bambi or Beaches. Lucifer looks my way and claps his hands.

"Wonderful speech. I couldn't have done better myself. Well, actually I could have done much better, but that was a good first effort. What sort of changes are you planning?"

"I don't know. It was just something to say. First thing I'm going to do is haul that broken-down Bamboo House of Dolls in from the desert and rebuild it here. Maybe I'll drop back down here every now and then and bartend. I'm making sure someone puts the roof back on Tartarus and let Semyazah toss Mason's soul down there. He can have the whole place to himself."

Lucifer narrows his eyes.

"You ruined the furnace."

"Tell Ruach if he wants to send down a plumber, we'll welcome him or her or whatever else you have up there with open arms."

"You might not make a terrible Lucifer after all," says Lucifer.

"How's the bleeding?"

God bodyslammed Lucifer out of Heaven with a thunderbolt during their war and his wounds have never healed. He's been hiding the open, bleeding wound from other Hellions for how long? Thousands of years? A million? The linen bandages are still there when Lucifer opens his shirt, but just a few drops of blood have soaked through.

He says, "Healing nicely. The climate up north is excellent for the health. You should come visit sometime."

"Don't get too cozy up there. I was more than happy to put Mason in the ground, but I told you before that I'm just a temp. The gig is done. Hell is yours."

Lucifer loops his arm through my Kissi arm and walks me to a window.

"You still don't grasp the situation. I'm not Lucifer anymore. I'm Samael, and Samael is a creature of Heaven just like Lucifer is the lord of Hell. As of tonight, you are the new Lucifer."

"Fuck that," I say, backing off. "I quit. I abdicate. I'm impeaching myself. No way am I staying down here a second longer than I have to."

"Actually, I think you are and it's not my doing," says Samael.

He looks at Alice.

"Are you ready to go home, my dear?"

"No," she says. "If Jim is staying, then I'm staying, too."

"Yeah, except I'm not staying. Get it?"

"I'm afraid you are," says the angel. "I'm holding on to the key for safekeeping. With all due respect, you aren't to be trusted with it."

"We both have to go back so Allegra can put us back together."

"I'm going back alone. You go ahead and make changes here. I'm going to make some changes up above."

"You're fucking ditching me?"

The angel walks to a shadow on the wall.

"I could give you a million reasons, but the simple truth is that I'm sick of you, your moods, your anger, and your hangovers. And the way you kept me chained in the backyard like a bad dog. I'll go back to earth and pick up where you left off."

"You don't have any scars. And you're too young. Everyone will know you're not me."

He smiles and points a finger.

"But will anyone care? I might not be as colorful as you, but I'm much less likely to get everyone around me killed. That goes a long way toward making friends."

He steps into the shadow.

"Wait! Come back. I promise I won't try to stop you."

The angel steps back in but doesn't move from the shadow.

"You need to take some things with you. Take Kasabian a crate of Maledictions. And have one of the soldiers bring you a hellhound. I figure there has to be a Sub Rosa engineer or charm maker who can modify the mechanics so it can move upright, more like a person. Kasabian can go where the brain went. Voilà. He has a body."

The angel sighs and squints at me.

"Is there anything else? Maybe I can get Bob Geldof to do a benefit to help you rebuild the place."

"That would be awesome, but in the meantime . . ." I take out my black blade. The angel flinches, but takes it when I hand it to him butt first. "Give this to Candy and tell her to keep it safe for me. Tell her I'm coming back for it soon."

The angel slips the knife into his waistband.

"I'll get your cigarettes and your dog, but I'm not coming back here."

"You're really going to hate L.A., Clarence."

As he goes I yell, "And tell Muninn to send care packages! He owes me that."

Lucifer looks around and says, "I think that's my cue to go. I'll stop by from time to time to see how you're faring. And, Alice, if you ever change your mind and want to come home, just whistle. I'll be here in a flash."

"Thank you," she says.

"No," I say. "I'm changing your mind for you. Go home. I know this place and I'm the boss now. I'll be fine."

"I can't leave you here alone."

"You know what's worse than me being alone? It's you hanging around out of guilt or obligation or something. I came down here to free you so you can go back where you're supposed to be. So please do it."

She looks between Lucifer and me. Samael, I mean. I'm Lucifer. That's going to take some getting used to.

"I don't know."

"You made it Upstairs and that's where you belong. I'm where I belong."

She crosses her arms.

"How do I know this isn't you conning me? Trying to be all noble. I don't need you noble."

She takes a step toward me. I take one back.

I say, "You don't need me at all. Remember that last dream? All those times we talked. They were more than dreams, weren't they?"

"Yes. I didn't plan them. They seemed to happen when I slept too. Upstairs they told me it wasn't all that uncommon for people who died in a violent and unsettled state. You're still tied to a person or place like a ghost. Those dreams were me kind of haunting you."

"That's funny. It always felt like I was calling you."

"Maybe it was fifty-fifty."

"I'm just glad it wasn't all me. I felt pretty pathetic when I thought it was."

I pick up a rag from the workbench and wipe Mason's blood off the armor. She doesn't need that to be her last image of me.

I say, "But that last dream was different, wasn't it?"

"Yeah."

"We both knew it, but you were the one with balls enough to say it. It's time to let go."

"We can't go on haunting each other forever. Actually we could, but what kind of life is that?"

I toss the rag on the bench and walk over to her.

"You really like your friend, Candy?" she asks.

"I really do."

"Is she going to wait for you?"

I shrug.

"Who knows? I'll wait for her and the rest will go however it goes."

"What happens now? We just say so long and never see each other again?"

"No."

I want to talk but my jaw doesn't want to move. I have to concentrate to get the words out.

"I've been ducking something ever since I first got out of here. I didn't think I could stand to hear it but things will never be right between us unless I say it."

My Kissi arm throbs. I rub it but the pain doesn't let up.

"How did you die? How did Parker kill you?"

She starts to say something, shakes her head and starts again.

"All this time I thought you knew."

She looks at me.

"Parker didn't kill me. I did. Parker broke into the apartment, cuffed me, and dragged me to a crack head motel on Sunset."

"The Orange Grove Bungalows? The magic Circle used to rent the rooms for rituals sometimes." The Grove is also where I killed Parker back on New Year's Eve. There's a kind of funny symmetry in that that was probably lost on him.

"That's the place. Parker called Mason when we got to the room so I knew this wasn't his idea. I asked Parker what was going on and he laughed and said Mason had plans. He was going to do to me what he did to you but he didn't say what that was. Before then, he said, we were going to have some fun together. All there was in that shitty little bungalow was a bed and a filthy bathroom so I had a pretty good idea of what he had in mind."

My throat is closing up. I can't stand this. I need to make her stop but I don't. I let her keep talking.

"He took off his jacket, pushed me down on the bed, and climbed on top. I didn't even fight him. He was twice my size. He had a gun. And he was Sub Rosa so he could use magic."

She smiles to herself.

"Parker was never the brightest penny, remember? When he climbed on I held on to his shoulders like I was getting off on the scene. The horny asshole must have thought Mason was going to take a bus or something. He was shocked as hell when Mason magicked himself into the room. Parker didn't get more than two minutes of fun. When Mason got there, let me tell you, he wasn't laughing when he saw what was happening. He got hold of Parker with a ghost hand spell, lifted him off the bed without touching him and bounced him off the walls like he was playing air hockey, yelling the whole time about damaged goods. Neither of them noticed that I'd gotten the gun out of Parker's shoulder holster while he was on top of me.

"When he was done with Parker, Mason did another spell and a hole opened in the floor of the room. I couldn't see where it went but I knew damn well I didn't want to go down there. So I shot him."

She cocks her head for a second.

"I shot at him. But I missed. He looked at the hole and he looked at me and I knew what was coming next. Before he could grab me with the ghost hand I put the gun under my chin and pulled the trigger."

The pain in the new arm won't stop and my vision is getting tunneled. It could be a stroke but I know it's just my brain trying to crawl out of my body and away from the sound of Alice's voice.

"You can stop there," I say. "I get the picture."

"For the record, shooting myself wasn't my first choice. I thought of you when I did it. I thought, 'What would Jim do if he was here and he knew he couldn't beat the other guy and something horrible was going to happen when he lost?' And it came to me. Mason might have won the fight, but that didn't mean he got to keep the prize. I took it away from him and all he could do was stand there and watch me pull the trigger. Mason didn't win. I did. And it was because of you."

Because of me. It's because of me she was in that room at all. There's nothing I could have done about it then and there's nothing I can do about it now and that's what I have to live with. Maybe that right there is the definition of life. Being alive is learning how to live with the intolerable. I'll be explaining that to Parker soon enough. I'll send a search party for his soul and teach him all about the intolerable.

I look at Samael.

"How is it she went Upstairs instead of down here? I thought suicide was a sure ticket on the coal cart."

"Usually, but under extreme circumstances the rules can become flexible. Especially for me."

Thanks, you pointy-tailed lunatic. Thanks a lot.

"Now it's my turn to say something I've been avoiding," says Alice. "You asked me before if we got together because the Inquisition wanted me to spy on you. The answer is yes. And that's why I came to you."

"That's what I thought. But it's old news. I don't care anymore."

She puts her hands over her mouth. There's a moment of silence.

"Medea Bava told me about how dangerous you were and how you were going to expose the Sub Rosa to the whole civilian world and get us killed. I was afraid for my family."

"Makes sense."

She blinks. Half smiles.

"When I got to know you I knew Medea was half right. You were dangerous and I liked it. By then I didn't care about the rest."

"It's okay. I believe you."

"Really?"

I nod.

"That's why it's okay. Whatever Bava says we were to each other we know different and that's all that matters."

"Thank you."

"Hell. Thank Medea for getting us together. I owe the old witch a candygram."

She looks at Samael.

"You'll look after him, right?"

"For you, dear, of course."

"That's sweet, Sam," I say. "You're getting as sentimental as the angel."

He gives me a look that's a lot more like the Infernal prince than I'll ever be.

"Because I am an angel. And you're the Scarecrow. A charming fellow. Now, if you only had a brain."

"I wonder if they still get cable down here? I'm going to have to check that."

Samael looks at Alice.

"See? He's already tackling the big issues. I think we should leave him to it."

I sit in Mason's desk chair.

"I really have no fucking idea what I'm supposed to do. The angel was the smart one."

"Try reading a book. There's a library one floor down. Try reading up on how some of the smarter Greek kings did it."

"None of them are audiobooks, are they?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Damn."

"Good-bye, Jim," says Alice.

"That's 'Lucifer' to you, girlie."

She smiles a crooked smile.

"See you around, you devil."

I blow her a kiss.

They're gone. And I'm alone in Hell again.

That's not a bad title for a song. Maybe I'll look up Hank Williams tomorrow.

They're gone maybe thirty seconds when someone calls my name from the balcony. I pick up Mason's black blade and go outside.

It's Josef. He looks like he went in through a meat grinder and got hit by a truck on the way out.

He whispers in a broken, damaged voice, "You betrayed us."

"All I did was betray a betrayer, so if you're here for an apology, you can kiss my ass on the way out."

"I never betrayed you."

"Really? The thing with the wanted posters kept bugging me. Jack couldn't have made it back in time. Mason was still into his war plans, so he wouldn't have made the posters unless he knew I was going to Eleusis. That's where you come in. You knew that's where I was going."

"What about your so-called friends? The chattering head. Or the disgraced priest. He's consorted with darker souls than yours."

"Maybe. What turned it for me was when I called you to Mason's office. You already knew the layout. You knew Mason had strung up Jack. You'd been in Mason's office before. It's where you told him everything I was going to do."

Josef shuffles away, leaving bloody footprints behind.

I say, "If it makes you feel any better, you didn't disappoint me. I never trusted you."

"Then why call us back from the void?"

"Hey, I was improvising most of the time. But you were my ace in the hole. I knew you couldn't beat Hell or Heaven on your own. But if I couldn't stop the war, I figured I could put you together with whatever side I decided should win."

"But instead you murdered us."

"The only reason you haven't killed off humanity is that we're your food, and then where would you be?"

His swollen eyes widen. Kissi are so ugly that it's usually hard to tell if one's been hurt or not. But not tonight.

"So genocide is the first order of business for the new Lucifer. What a fine start to your reign."

"It's not genocide. You're left."

Josef climbs onto the balcony railing.

"This isn't over. If I have to come for you alone, I will."

"No you won't."

I throw my knife. It goes into Josef's throat and out through his spine. He falls backward off the balcony.

And I was this close to letting him go because I did kind of fuck him over and he was so beat up and pathetic I felt sorry for him. But I let my guard down with Jack and he stole my face. I trusted Mason and he dragged me to Hell. Even Lucifer used me so he could go home. As of today, this is an official zero slack zone for the true monsters.

I wander back to a window and look out over my weird Convergence kingdom. It isn't Hell and it isn't L.A., but I've been to Fresno, so I've seen worse. I take the Singularity from my pocket and watch the black and white pinheads spin around each other.

I survived the arena and Mason down here, and I survived Wells, Aelita, and the Golden Vigil up there. I still have two legs, two eyes, an arm, and something pretty close to an arm. I'm back in Pandemonium, so I bet Kasabian can see me. Maybe I'll learn semaphore Morse code so I can send messages to Candy. And I wouldn't mind killing Aelita. She goes right at the top of my Infernal to-do list. Yeah. This might not be so bad.

You think I can't cut it down here anymore? I grew up in L.A. and lived to tell the tale. Hell is just L.A. with lousy head shots. We're balls-deep in the shit Downtown, but we know it and admit it. Someday I'll get back home, and when I do I'm going to find an angel with my face and kick his bony ass from Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles to the Pearly Gates and back. They might call me Lucifer these days, but I'm just a part-time devil, so don't count me out. And don't use up all the whiskey and cigarettes. I'll be back.