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Chapter XVIII

The moon fell in crisp blue beams through the windows of the limousine. Bathed in this light, Melissa and Marcus shifted uneasily, never quite able to relax.

“Are we sure this is a good idea,” asked LeHaze, “Do you trust Spaceman?”

Marcus gave a tight smile. “The signal’s sent, we’re going in,” he said, hesitating. “If Spaceman’s blown the mission already, hopefully we’ll have a chance for a conversation with him.”

Marcus pushed against the frame of his glasses, attempting to pinch the horn-rims just close enough to prevent it from sliding down his nose. Disguise had never been his strong suit. Finally he gave up, folding them into his front pocket.

D held out her hand. Raising his eyebrow, Shield realized she wanted his glasses. Seeing no harm, he passed them over.

A suggestion of greenish fire spilled from her fingers as she cupped the frames to her mouth and exhaled sharply. In the poor moonlight, it was difficult to make out what exactly D was doing, but after a time D mumbled a few indistinct phrases and returned the glasses to Marcus. Trying them on, he found the fit now perfect, but the view through the lenses seemed oddly refracted.

“Neat trick,” he said. “How did you do that?”

“I conjured an imp from the infernal realms and had it heat the plastics of the frames. I had to promise it a can of oil in return, so I hope you like it.”

“You made a deal with a demon,” said Shield. “To fix a pair of glasses?”

“Oh please,” said D. “It’s not written anywhere that demons have to be corrupting souls every spare second. Demons are like anyone else, they’re more than willing to make a deal when the situation suits them.”

Melissa inched just a little closer to Shield, “Let’s just keep the deals at the motor oil category, OK? No signing away souls or stuff like that.”

D grew upset. “That’s a load of crap. Even if you did sign away your soul, a demon couldn’t take it unless you found some way of first stealing it from Lord of the Underworld. He made every soul on earth, they belong to Him. No two-bit djinn is going compete against that.”

Marcus rubbed the back of his head. “Somehow, I don’t find that altogether reassuring,” he said.

“Of course there’s nothing preventing a demon from ripping the body of man apart for making such a foolish transaction,” she continued. “They usually do that on general principle.”

Marcus laughed, uncomfortable. “New topic.”

“Is there any way to use D’s powers to check up on Spaceman,” LeHaze asked. “See what we’re walking into?”

D pulled a carton of Camels from Marcus’ jacket pocket.

“These cigarettes, they’re Spaceman’s?”

“Yes, how did you know that?”

By way of answering, D pointed at the small gold letters on the filters: SM.

“Of course he has monogrammed cigarettes,” LeHaze laughed.

On the other side of the limousine, D was laying out a few scraps of papyrus over the seat. One by one she wrapped cigarettes in the scraps before burning them with a lighter.

“Uh, Agent D, I’m not sure that’s a great idea in a confined space,” Marcus said.

“Horus’ charm doesn’t provide more than a peek but it might help us,” she said. Marcus grew alarmed as the glasses on his face began to flare with that same greenish light.

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