Faith of the Divine Inferno by Leslie Thompson (fantasy novels to read TXT) 📖

you figure out the cause of his death?”
“He was coated in some kind of chemical. So what of it?” I didn’t see anything so unusual about it. People were killed in a lot of different ways for a lot of different reasons. The likelihood of such occurrences increased when you were in a place filled with violent men like the Cellar was. Sure I wondered why someone wanted to kill a millionaire gone zealot, and I suspected that there was a substantial life insurance policy involved.
“Do you know what chemicals did it?” Alejandro was loosening up as the pain became less. He even took a step closer to me.
“No, but the victim had to have been coated in it. It’s probably something new cooked up in someone’s basement. Why do the Children care, and why are you talking to me about it?”
For most of their history, the Children of Orpheus were a secret society who had lived like monks under a strict vow of poverty. They kept their activities limited to following me around and ignored everything else. Then a few decades ago, their fortunes started to look up. My stalkers became better dressed and well fed. I’d assumed that they managed a few wealthy recruits, or they had finally stumbled across one of the secret caches of gold I had stashed all over the globe.
I didn’t worry about the last too much. I have nearly a hundred of such hiding places, plus several hundred million in modern currency tucked away in banks. Along with that, I hold enough real estate to keep me very wealthy should I lose everything else in a market crash or a plague. I can afford to take it easy whenever a lucky farmer or archeologist absconds with my treasures.
No matter how their fortunes turned, the Children always operated under the assumption that I am dangerous to them. When they could afford it, they invested in armor and they created severe consequences for anyone who made their presence known to me. That particular rule has brought me hours of high entertainment. I’ve spent whole years chasing them around and watching them freak out when they realized that I knew they were there. Members have been kicked out of the society because of the things I did. Ah, good times.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed that there have been a lot of things happening in the world lately,” Alejandro began. Actually, I hadn’t noticed. There is always some natural disaster or atrocity being performed on large group of people. That has been true since I was a child. If I didn’t ignore it, I’d get paranoid, and forever is a long time to be afraid. The fact that the Children thought that I was paying attention meant that they were giving me way too much credit. “A few decades ago, the Great Bard decided that we should expand our interests beyond figuring you out. That’s what brings me here.”
“Get on with it, Alejandro. I’m tired and I want to get to bed.” Alejandro seemed surprised that I could get tired, which showed how well they paid attention.
“I’ve been sent to tell you that your life is in danger.” Alejandro was frustrated and it gave him an accent that was Spanish by way of Mexico. The words came out faster and faster, leaving me without an opening to say something that would piss him off and make him go away. “The man who was killed tonight is part of a cult that has learned of your existence. They have declared you an abomination and an enemy of God. A month ago they decreed that anyone who destroys you are blessed and will receive unconditional salvation.”
Wow. There have been a lot of contracts for my head over the years that guaranteed astonishing sums of money to anyone who killed me. All attempts failed for the obvious reason, but no one had ever promised a free moral pass to take me out before. Of course, this was the first time that anyone wanted me dead because I couldn’t die. It felt a bit oxy-moronic, with an emphasis on moronic.
Most religions deny that I am a possibility, unless you count the Biblical story of Cain. God made him immortal as a punishment for killing his brother, Abel. And no, I’ve never met him. If he does exist he stays well out of my way.
It also seems that another important question has been neglected by this murderous cult. How does one go about killing a person who is incapable of dying? Gods know that I have made a few good tries in my time, and I repeatedly failed.
“Thanks for letting me know,” I told Alejandro and opened the car door to get in.
“Aren’t you worried?” he asked.
This is what bugs me the most about mortals. They can’t seem to grasp that immortality is a literal term. There isn’t a thing under heaven and above hell that make my soul fly from my flesh. I have been diseased, assaulted, stabbed, poisoned, shot by bullets and arrows, impaled, set on fire, drowned, buried alive, dropped from great heights, crushed, and decapitated twice. While all of those experiences sucked in a great and profound sort of painful way, none of them have ever killed me. It simply cannot be done. Even my one trip into an erupting volcano had failed to do me in. It had been agonizing and extremely disorienting, but I managed to survive. Why can’t the Children of Orpheus get that?
“I’m not worried about it.” That isn’t altogether true. Murder attempts hurt, and it bothers me a lot that someone wants to come along and cause me severe pain. Pain is bad.
“The Great Bard thinks that they can do it,” Alejandro insisted.
“They can’t. Who is this Great Bard?” I demanded.
“Our leader.”
Oh. So they had managed to organize. Good for them. “Tell the Great Bard that I’m grateful for the warning, and that I’ll stop putting clear wrap on your toilet seats in return for his concern.” The clear wrap gag was getting old anyway. I needed to plan something better to freak the Children out. Maybe I’ll put porno into this Great Bard’s stuff where other people can find them. That might be good for a laugh.
“Look, we’d like to send someone over to protect you. We have a couple of members who specialize in personal security, so you won’t have to worry about your secret getting out.” Alejandro held a card out to me. I ignored it. I know where to find the Children of Orpheus if I want them. All I have to do is look behind me.
“You guys know where I live?” I growled.
“Of course. We follow you everywhere.” Alejandro gave me a look that implied that I might be stupid. Damn, I was going to have to move. I didn’t want to find another apartment. I liked where I was living.
“Don’t send people to my door. I already have enough privacy issues with you guys.”
“I think you should take the protection. You don’t know what the cult is capable of.” Alejandro was still holding the card out to me. I had just watched one of the cult's members burn to a crisp because his friends coated him with an unstable compound. I think I have a pretty good idea of what they are capable of. My eyes were burning with fatigue. It was time to go.
“No. Tell the Great Bard that I don’t need or want the Children’s protection. If I see the guards, I will make life very difficult for all of you.” I got into the car and quickly drove away before Alejandro could do anything about it. He was still trying to give me the card as he jumped back to keep me from running over his foot.


Chapter 3

Someone was banging hard on my door at ten the next morning. I was fuzzy from sleep when it began, and it had taken me a moment to realize that the noise echoing through my apartment was not my upstairs neighbor chasing his kid. I also sleep in the nude; a habit I had developed during my first marriage and never grew out of, so I listened to another round of banging as I put my robe on and tied it closed. Grumpy and griping under my breath, I flung the front door to nothing.
I looked up and down the empty hallway. I was about to close the door and go back to bed when a strange noise caught my notice. It was soft ticking sound, soothing in its rapid rhythm along the late morning silence. Looking down, I saw a white post box. It was ordinary enough with its postage paid stamp across the top and the clear tape stretched across the flaps holding it closed. Inside such innocuous packaging, the ticking was deadly ominous. I remembered Alejandro’s warning that a cult was out to get me, and I jumped back.
All the thing did was tick, so it felt silly to be afraid of it. I thought about leaving it for the maintenance staff to deal with. Then I heard a child’s laughter bubbling out of the door across the hall from mine. Mrs. Atwater had her granddaughter over today. I would never hear the end of it if the box turned out to be dangerous. Atwater would be at me all the time, nagging and harping about how close her precious granddaughter nearly met her death. The tiresome woman wasn’t nearly old enough for me to want to spend the rest of her life listening to her bitch.
I left the thing where it was and got a pair of scissors from my kitchen. I used it to tear through the tape and folded back the flaps to expose a small device cradled in Styrofoam peanuts. It was black, square, and it had plenty of wires and do-dads sticking out of it. Under a digital timer counting down the remaining seconds was a little spout. What was that for?
I lifted the box and brought it into my apartment, making sure I closed the door behind me. The numbers began to flash as soon as it counted lower than twenty. Flashing numbers is never a positive indication of anything, and I began to run. I rushed through my apartment at breakneck speed to my enormous shower stall. The space was a shining example of modern luxury, with marble walls, ceramic floors, and stout plumbing beneath. If there was any place that might contain an explosion that was it.
I was through my bedroom, past my closet, and into the vanity area when the bomb went off with a piercing alarm. I screamed and flinched as the device made a loud pop and I was heavily doused in cold water. Shocked, I waited for something more to happen. When my skin didn’t start falling off my body in big blobs and my insides didn’t try to rupture, I relaxed.
Puzzled by the unbelievable turn of events, I put the box on the vanity counter and took out the bomb. It had been built into the case of a car battery, with the space where the acid usually went converted into a holding tank for the water. I pried the top off of it, and found a simple device that