ber me. Or do you curse so many people that we all blur together?"
"You need to go away now," Bilal said. His chest-mouth opened slowly, emitting a growl and hot breath that reeked of wet decay.
"Stop that," said Spyder. He touched the middle finger of his right hand to Bilals chest. The skin shifted like sand, sealing the extra mouth shut. "What were you -saying?"
The demon heaved its enormous bulk from the barstool, feeling for its lost mouth.
"Ill destroy you," it said.
"Yeah, your first one worked out so well. What do you do for an encore? Not swallow my soul?" Spyder took a sip of his Coke and a long drag off his cigarette. It was good to have real smokes again. "I was in the book. I am the book. And your demon noise sounds like cricket farts to me now. I have Apollyons blade. Im the devils brother. I killed the Black Clerks. What are you but some back alley rat-eater who likes to take out his bad moods on people who cant fight back?"
Bilal was breathing hard. He was angry, but Spyder could tell that he was even more scared.
"Leave me alone," said Bilal.
"All I wanted was to be left alone, but you tried to eat me. When that didnt work, you cursed me. Made people think I was Hannibal Lecter. "
"That was before. "
"Before what?"
"Before I knew who you were. "
"And whos that?"
"The Painted Man. "
"Dont you forget it. Now, whats the magic word?"
"What word?"
"What do we say when weve fucked up and we want forgiveness?" asked Spyder.
Bilal hesitated, shook his head. He stared at the floor. "Lucretia My Reflection&
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