Lore vs. The Summoning Read Online Free PDF Page A

thought his eye would be. He howled in pain. It wasn't a human noise but thankfully this part of the city was deserted at night.
    "Tell me about the packages," I repeated.
    "I'm not tellin' you shit," he snarled.
    These are the ones I disliked most, the informants who weren't cowed enough by my inherited brownstone's interrogation trap to spill the beans with a simple request. I switched back into my sarcastically sweet voice. "Dyin' ain't the worst thing that can happen to you. I can take you to the brink of death only to bring you back again, rinse and repeat. Tell me what I want to know."
    "You have nothin'!"  
    He meant I wasn't scary enough. Well, if he wanted to play that game...
    "No?" I shot him. Sure, it was in the right thigh, not a killing wound, but he did scream an impressive set of echoing shouts within his stone cage. "Where are the packages from, Mailman?"
    "From the good ol' U.S.P.S.," he called back in a strained voice.
    So I shot him in the other thigh.
    He let out a manly groan between gnashed teeth. "Fuck!"
    "I'm getting impatient, Mailman."
    "I'm losing blood," he shot back.
    "Yup," I said flippantly emphasizing the "p" with a breathy puff. "Where are the packages from, Mailman?"
    "I'm not..."
    I shot him in both arms, one after the other as quickly as my ordinary hands would move.
    He shrieked like a girl. "Fuck! Fuck! I don't know where they're from! They're covered in brown paper with no return labels!"
    Finally.
    Taking advantage of his currently cowed mood, I shouted down a new question. "When do they arrive?"
    "It's not the same day. Some weeks it's a Monday, others it's Thursday. It changes every week. Fuck! I'm seriously bleeding to death! I can't die!"
    Of course he couldn't. Few ever wanted to and the ones that did, I didn't bother sticking in the courtyard. "Who are they for?"
    "I don't know."
    I sighted down the gun at his left shoulder, the one lifted toward me, and made damn sure he saw me do it.
    "I just leave them there!" He shouted desperately. "They take care of delivering it!"
    "That may be the case, but you know who they end up with ultimately. Who is it mailman?"
    "I don't..."
    I shot his shoulder.
    "Agghhhh! Fuck!"  
    He was starting to look a bit hairier than usual. That probably wasn't good. My fingers tightened on the gun's grip.
    "I wouldn't Change if I were you, Mailman," I called down while exchanging cartridges. "You wouldn't want me to switch to silver bullets now would you?"
    "I'm going to kill you!" He barked in a guttural voice.
    My eyes rolled to the Domain. "Oh, I haven't heard that one before." I spent a moment aiming at his right shoulder, the one on which he'd propped himself. I didn't actually need to aim. I was merely making sure he knew I'd shoot him again if he didn't start singing a different song.
    A tinny rendition of "So What'cha Want" rang out from my pocket. I kept my eyes trained on the mailman while fishing my phone out of my pocket.  
    The digital screen had a picture of the devil with the name "Jonas Levi" displayed beneath it in bold white text. Crap. It was my boss. I had to take this.
    "Scream and I shoot you in the larynx, got it?" I mimed answering the call to fake him out. "Hello?"
    The mailman, of course, screamed. And earned himself a shot right through the larynx. I heaved a heavy sigh while listening to his gurgling noises then answered the phone for real.
    "Hello?" I was halfway to the rooftop door when the voice on the other end spoke.
    "Laura?" The thickly accented voice of my boss, the music director with the Boston Symphony Orchestra, hesitantly greeted me by name. He continued once he was sure it was me. "This is Jonas Levi. I'm sorry to call this late but we've had to reschedule the rehearsal for the Chamber Tea at the last minute. It won't be tomorrow afternoon as planned but instead will meet Wednesday. Can you make it?"
    Jonas was being polite but his hard-edged tone meant I had no choice. Either I showed up to rehearsal Wednesday,