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‘im. He’s a lightweight. Not even a demon. He’s just paid, see? But it’s who he works for that’s important.”

“Alright, so who does he work for?”

“That’s what they’re trying to keep me mouth shut about.” Nigel’s expression was one of attempted sincerity, with only shades of deception.

Sebastian gave him a raised brow.

Nigel would’ve preferred to not expound, but Sebastian wasn’t going to allow Nigel his usual runaround tactics. “Nah, man, I really don’t know his name,” said the demon. “He’s American, that’s all I know about him. But I heard about some stuff e’s doing, and me knowin’ things is what’s got ‘em worried, see?”

You keep saying them, so there’s something else you seem to know.

“Yeah, I see, mate,” mocked Sebastian. “So maybe I should get the top dog’s name from this recruiter person.”

“Are you mad? Then they’d know who you are and they’d probably come after you.”

“So? I can handle myself. Might be good to shake the nest.”

“You have no idea who any of ‘em are, and they could come at you from all sorts of ways, and you’d have no idea who, or what, to look for. You do that, and you’re the hunted and not the hunter anymore.”

Sebastian nodded and was starting to understand a little of why Nigel was being evasive. “You actually have a point, there.”

“Yeah, I do. I’m not ruddy daft. I stay alive, and I’ll probably be around longer than you.”

“Of that, I have no doubt. And cockroaches will outlive us all, so it doesn’t say much for your company.”

Nigel wasn’t amused, but he wasn’t about to do anything else stupid. In a rare moment of sincerity from the demon, Nigel said, “Sebastian, they’ve found somethin’ kinda big,”

“Like what?”

Here it came. Nigel took a long breath. The girls were still firmly inebriated, but he glanced at them anyway. “They found some kind of stable rift.”

“Where?”

“I dunno, but s’not around ‘ere. Might be in the U.S. Big rift. Something they can actually walk through.”

“You’re serious?”

“Swear, mate. I don’t know much more about it, ‘cause that’s when they caught me and decide to shut me up, see? And since I don’t care about none of that, I gladly take me bribe.”

“That I believe,” said Sebastian, in agreement.

“Sort of an accident that I hear about it. I handle communication lines, and got some chatter from the guy I deal with.”

“Deal with?”

Nigel gave Sebastian a practiced hurt expression. “T’s nothing serious. Just small stuff, not hurtin’ no one.”

Sebastian grimaced, then nodded for Nigel to continue.

“Yeah, well, it was just an accident, right? And he talks to someone, who talks to someone, and they decide I’m no big threat and just buy me off.”

Sebastian wondered why that would be. If the game stakes were this high, why not do what most of these scumbags normally do and just eliminate the leak? Who else was sticking up for Nigel? And how powerful were they?

“Do they know you’re – uh, do they know anything about your history?” asked Sebastian.

Nigel shrugged. “I didn’t ask, but I got the feeling they knew who I was.” He sat down in the chair Sebastian had been in earlier. “It’s why I keep changing me door numbers. I think I’m being watched sometimes.”

“Why the hell would
” he was about to say “changing your door numbers help,” but Sebastian knew that Nigel was serious about these strange actions, even if they were stupid, paranoid reasons, and he didn’t want to upset Nigel any more than he already was. At the moment Nigel looked genuinely pathetic. “Who do you think is watching you?”

“I dunno. And it scares the piss out’ah me.”

Sebastian turned briefly to stare in the direction the door, almost looking through it. It was just a point of focus while he thought.

“Ah, relax,” said Nigel. “They’re probably not around tonight. They figure I’m set for a while with this lot,” he said, gesturing to the ladies on the floor.

“Fair enough. But how can you be sure?”

“Ehh.” He shrugged. “Just a feeling. I get feelings too, ya know.”

Sebastian chuckled. Though that statement could be taken a couple of ways, he knew what Nigel meant. He meant the kind of gut feeling that would be considered extrasensory, though Sebastian did doubt sometimes that Nigel had the full complement of emotional feelings a human was supposed to have.

So, what the hell does all this have to do with a damned wolfer in Regent’s Park? Sebastian had to wonder if Nigel was deflecting the Saints’ focus to thousands of miles away to further protect his territory.

“So, if the shit is going down in the U.S., how does this tie into the wolfer tonight, here in London?” asked Sebastian.

“Dunno,” said Nigel. “All I know it’s all part of the same chatter. These wolfers, cults, and the stable rift.”

“Alright, so what about the cults?” Sebastian wiggled his fingers in a “give me more” gesture.

“Right,” said Nigel, looking reluctant, though understanding he had stuck his foot in his mouth. “Your wolfy isn’t the only one around. But I ain’t heard of none around here besides the one you met. They’re scattered around and they seem to be communin’.”

“Communing?”

“A bunch of them living together, on purpose. What would you call it?”

“Where?”

Nigel shrugged. “Not sure, several places. Different countries, I think.”

“Why?”

“Who the hell knows, mate? World domination? Brutal football team?”

Sebastian almost laughed while trying to keep his serious bad-cop expression. “For someone who claims to not know anything, you seem to know a lot of things.”

Nigel shrugged sheepishly.

Sebastian pushed on. “And yet I’m willing to bet you know even more than that and you’re too scared to say any more. That about it?”

“Piss off. S’not against the law to be scared.”

Sebastian didn’t doubt that Nigel was being truthful about his fears. He was most certainly scared of something. That didn’t mean that everything he worried about was legitimately trouble, but the demon was a survivor. He knew trouble when he sensed it.

“Alright. Let’s say I believe you,” said Sebastian. “And whatever I’m chasing has its source in the US, somewhere. You’re saying there are these same hybrid wolfers over there too?”

Nigel shrugged again. “Probably not the same, but – yeah.”

“And Sirens bring people into these groups?” asked Sebastian.

“Yeah.”

“As what? Volunteers to be wolfers?”

“I don’t know. “

“What happens to them?”

Nigel rolled his eyes to look nearly through his eyebrows. “I don’t bloody know.”

Nigel’s mood was becoming steadily more hostile. Sebastian tried to soften his voice a bit, though he doubted it would matter.

“So, where is this stable rift located? The U.S. is a big place.”

“Sorry. I swear I don’t know.”

“Just somewhere in America?”

“Maybe.”

Now Sebastian was annoyed. “Maybe!? A minute ago you said it was in the U.S.”

“I said I thought it might be. I eavesdrop, ya daft bastard, I’m not in the bloody meetings.”

The last comment had ramped up the demon’s testiness. Sebastian figured Nigel was almost at his tolerance level for intrusive questions. Almost.

“Alright, me ol’ sod,” said Sebastian, mocking Nigel’s mocking greeting. “I’ll leave you to your evening. Only one more thing. I need a name. One that won’t get you in trouble, but might help me find trouble.”

“Don’ be stupid. I don’ like you all that much, but I don’ want ya dead.”

“I won’t be. I gotta give my superiors something besides your word.” Sebastian cleared his throat and began in a voice that was supposed to sound attorney-ish, “They’ll request confirmation of information to commence conference consolidation and communication.”

“Ya buggery ol’ prick,” said Nigel. He probably wanted to laugh, even though he thought Sebastian was crazy. “Yeah, yeah, you an’ your Saints will get together and piss about and make sure you stay safe from all us dangerous types. You’ll end up decidin’ nothing of importance, then go out an’ do whatever you want anyway and tell everyone that you’ve got ya orders.”

“See, you do know way more than you’re telling me,” said Sebastian, slapping Nigel playfully on the shoulder. He wasn’t sure whether he should be pissed off at Nigel, or congratulate him on a concise summary of a typical Saints’ council meeting. Someday he would have to do some heavier squeezing on how this little pervert knew as much as he did without the supposed ties and alliances he denies.

Nigel grinned a thieves’ grin.

“A name, Nigel,” said Sebastian. “And I’ll go.”

Nigel rolled his eyes. Sebastian hadn’t convinced him to say the name yet, but he had worn down Nigel’s patience enough to where the demon would do about anything to make Sebastian leave. It was one of the few incentives that worked with Nigel. “Alright, alright,” said the demon. “Jus’ keep me neck out of it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Nigel’s neck stays safe. Got it.” Sebastian waggled his fingers in a “let’s go” gesture.

“Oscar.”

Sebastian waited for the other shoe to drop. It didn’t. “Oscar, who?”

Nigel shook his head. “I don’t know. Swear.”

“That’s not much to go on.”

“Sorry, mate. I never heard any last name, or other names. Just that one.”

Sebastian thought a moment, considering whether Nigel was lying again, or if the name was more than a name. Maybe there wasn’t a last name because it wasn’t a regular name.

“Could it be a code, or alias, or something?” asked Sebastian.

“Maybe. I only hear this stuff, and I don’t go poking about asking questions an’ risking me neck.”

We’re clear on that. Sebastian considered what the name could mean. “Sounds more likely that it’s a code name rather than a guy who only goes around with one name like he’s in a band. Sting, or Bono, or whatever.”

Nigel waggled his head in semi-agreement. He looked glum, probably worried about the possibility that whoever he was scared of might get word that he had given a Saint some information of importance. That, and perhaps he was worried his evening’s entertainment would eventually come out of their drug-induced trances, and time was a-wastin'.

“Ok, Nigel. Believe it or not, I do thank you. If this thing you’re talking about is as big as you say, then I’ve got a lot of work to do. And I promise I’ll keep your name out of it. Might be a shame though. If your information turns out to save lives, you could be a big hero and no one would know.”

He meant it as a joke, but Nigel seemed to brighten.

Sebastian got up to leave and paused next to a black light poster at the door. “The seventies are over, by the way.”

“Says you. I’m just getting started.”

Strangely, that made sense to those who knew Nigel. Maybe Nigel would get around to the eighties next year and work his way into modern-day eventually. Not all of him started out as a child after all. So, he was living through the historic fads as a very odd adult with a teenager’s obsessions. It was still a free country and bad taste wasn’t illegal yet.

Nigel had already dismissed Sebastian’s presence in his mind and was back to mixing with his party attendees. “Oi, ladies, did you miss me? What shall we do next, eh? I know a fun game we can play.”

Sebastian shook his head and exited the apartment. He looked carefully around the street before he walked to his bike. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to sense someone watching the apartment, regardless if they were human or alter-dimensional entities, but nothing seemed wrong, and everything was quiet.

Quiet, that is, for anyone without the ability to hear other people’s thoughts. Nothing had ever been quiet for Sebastian in his life.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 

 

 

At an early age, both Sebastian and his twin brother Marcellus knew they were abnormal. Although their environment was lacking in much normalcy with which to compare, their uniqueness was evident. They had been abandoned on a monastery doorstep as infants and raised by a combination of monks and multiple foster families. The formal education they received from the monks was supplemented by the mean streets of an impoverished area outside of Atlanta. The brothers possessed gifts, or

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