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“Okay, Tommy. If you admire what I did so much, where were you when it all went down? I could have used some help, if not fighting the Angra then in getting LAPD off my fucking back.”

He nods.

“For one thing, I knew you’d win. I foresaw it and didn’t want to get in the way.”

“That’s a bullshit answer and you know it.”

He leans back, steepling his fingers.

“You’re right, it is. As far as the police are concerned, I wasn’t Augur yet, so I didn’t have the power to deal with them. And as for the fight, I’ll admit it in front of both of you. I was scared. Mad gods. Other dimensions. It’s a bit out of my experience. But not yours, and when it came time to stand up, you did. I want to acknowledge that. I want to reward that.”

“How?”

“I want to offer you a seat on my advisory council. You’d have an important voice in shaping policy where it comes to both the Sub Rosa world and how we interface with the civilian population.”

Okay. He got that punch by me. I was looking for a right cross and he hit me with a body shot. The nicer this guy gets, the less I want to trust him. He oozes sincerity, but so do cave birds Downtown. They look like cute little sparrows. They’ll perch in your hand and cuddle right up. Then the stinger comes out and they get you with one of the most noxious poisons in Hell. Lucifer kept a cageful of cave birds in his palace. He’d dip his royal dagger in their poison every morning before staff meetings. Everyone knew it and no one caused trouble. So the question is: Is Abbot the old Lucifer or Samael, the reformed and less homicidal Devil? What if I guess wrong? I want to get out of here, but the whiskey is good. Trust isn’t my greatest virtue, but it might be interesting to see how the other half lives. I might be able to get something out of it.

“Does it pay anything?”

“It could. I know you’ve had some financial problems. I could authorize you a stipend. Say, a hundred thousand a year? It would be steady money to give you breathing room. You wouldn’t have to give up the store or your other job.”

So he has been keeping tabs on me. At least he’s honest about it.

All this honesty is giving me a migraine.

“What do you know about my job?”

“I know you’re working with a respected ex-­member of the Golden Vigil. If she can trust you I think I can too.”

“What if she’s wrong?”

“I told you he’d say something like that,” says Tuatha.

Abbot nods at her and looks back at me.

“She’s not wrong, Stark, and all three of us in here know it. You come on like you’re still the monster you were when you came back from Hell. And I don’t use the word ‘monster’ lightly. You were a menace. Out of control. But you’re not that person anymore, just as I’m not the person I was when I hid from the Angra Om Ya when I should have been right there beside you.”

“What’s changed?”

“You. The idea that you might work with us. With your experience and knowledge of the dangers plaguing both civilians and the Sub Rosa, I think we could accomplish great things together.”

“You know, Audsley Isshi

i still has a hit out on me.”

Isshii had been Blackburn’s security chief. When Blackburn was murdered, Isshii decided I did it. He’s been after me ever since.

“I do know about that and I want you to know that we’re dealing with it. I guarantee you we will find him. In fact, if you wanted, I could assign you and your friends their own security teams.”

“That’s very generous of you.”

“It’s just partial payment for all you’ve done for us.”

I look down at my glass and finish the drink.

“I like your whiskey,” I tell him, trying to deflect his bruising sincerity with some of my own.

Abbot gets up, goes to the liquor cabinet, and comes back with an unopened bottle of Gentleman Jack.