Bottled Abyss (44 page)

“By your own estimation—now, if you please—”

He grips my robe in his claws—the black and white Border Collie hair shakes on his forearms—it reminds me of something, a warm and distant memory that might have made me smile once—it is a type of dream memory—

“I don’t know how to do that—I just know you should die—!”

“You will undo yourself—”

“I don’t care—I would rather be nothing, than this—!”

“The bottle—” I whisper in dread—that mortal could have climbed out a window by this time—! “You must let me go, for both of us—you can’t change what we are now—there is no winning this—”

The rat clarifies in his features—but the eyes remain human—the Fury slowly pulls his claws from my throat—takes his bent spectacles off the ridge of his lengthening snout—tosses them to the floor—

“How long does this job last—?”

“As long as life survives—”

“But I don’t know who to pick—! Please, help me—”

I don’t answer him—I get to my feet, take my oar and bound up the stairs—so there would be no more interference, I would have to beat in the woman’s head—not a pleasant task, but serving Nyx was not a job that went without suffering—

No sooner had the Ferrywoman taken a step inside the bedroom, when two bullets cut through her chest. Inky black blood painted a whitewashed armoire in speckles and whips. She glanced down and a marshy stench vented from the wounds.

In her turquoise underwear, the mortal hunkered on the floor, using the bed to brace her arms as she held the service revolver. Smoke rolled from the gun’s mouth. A small case lay on the bed next to her, several boxes of ammunition inside.

Feeling no pain, the Ferrywoman moved ahead. Briny blood continued to drip out and several petite vermillion-scaled fishes slipped from the wounds and splashed onto the carpet, losing form.

Another round discharged and the Ferrywoman’s head bucked back. A red eel pushed free, fell, hit the bridge of her nose and made a dark auburn crescent next to the other carpet stains.

“Don’t any of you fucking die?” The mortal grabbed the bottle off the bed and held it above her head.

“Hand it over and I will leave you alone.”

“Really?” The mortal gave an uncertain look to the window.

“Let’s just end this.”

“You don’t remember me, do you?”