box with what's left of Rasputin's penis in it. Quality shit I swear by its authenticity.
And it's all yours, if you do this for me.'
Malfeis fidgets, drumming his talons against the table. Such close proximity to so much human suffering and evil is bringing on a Jones. 'Okay. I'll do it. But I'm not going to take responsibility for anything that happens to you.'
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'Did I ask you to?'
'Are you sure you want to go through with this, Sonja?'
'Your concern touches me, Mal. It really does.'
The demon shakes his head in disbelief. 'You really mean to go through with this, don't you?'
'I've already said so, haven't I?'
'Sonja, you realize once you're in there, there's no way you'll be able to get out, unless someone breaks the seal.'
'Maybe.'
'There's no maybe to it!' he retorts.
'The spell you're using is for the binding and containing of vampiric energies, right?'
'Of course. You're a vampire.'
I shrug. 'Part of me is. And I'm not letting it out to hurt anyone ever again. I'm going to kill it or die trying.'
'You're going to starve in there!'
'That's the whole point.'
'Whatever you say, girly-girl.'
I hug myself as I stare into the open doorway of the meat locker. It is cold and dark inside, just like my heart. 'Let's get this show on the road.'
Malfeis nods and produces a number of candles, bottles of oil, pieces of black chalk, and vials of white powder from his black gladstone bag. I swallow and step inside the meat locker, closing the heavy door behind me with a muffled thump.
From the diaries ofSonja Blue.
Malfeis lighted the candles and began to chant in a deep, sonorous voice, scrawling elaborate designs on the outer walls of the locker with the black chalk. As the chanting grew faster and more impassioned, he smeared oil on the hinges and handle of the door. There was an electric crackle and the door glowed with blue fire.
Malfeis's incantation lost its resemblance to human speech as it reached its climax. He carefully poured a line of white powder, made from equal parts salt, sand, and the crushed
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) bones of unbaptized babies, across the threshold. Then he stepped back to assess his handiwork.
To human eyes it looked like someone had scrawled graffiti all over the face of the stainless-steel locker, nothing more.
But to Pretender eyes, eyes adjusted to the Real World, the door to the locker was barred shut by a tangle of darkly pulsing veve, the semi-sentient protective symbols of the voodoo powers. As long as the tableau remained undisturbed, the entity known as Sonja Blue would remain trapped within the chill darkness of the meat locker.
Malfeis replaced the tools of his trade in his gladstone bag. He paused as he left the warehouse, glancing over his shoulder.
'Goodbye, girly-girl. It was nice knowing you.'
'I'm looking for Mal.'
The bartender looked up from his racing form and frowned at Judd. After taking in his unwashed hair and four days'
growth of beard, he nodded in the direction of the back booth.
Judd had never been inside the Monastery before. It had a reputation for being one of the more sleazy - and unsavory French Quarter dives, and he could see why. The booths lining the wall had once been church pews. Plaster saints in various stages of decay were on display. A Madonna, skin blackened and made leprous by age, regarded him from above the bar with flat, faded blue eyes. She held in her arms an equally scabrous Christ-child, its uplifted chubby arms ending in misshapen stumps. Hardly a place to party down big time.
He walked to the back of the bar and looked into the last booth. All he saw was a paunchy middle-aged man dressed in a bad suit smoking a cigar and reading a racing form.
'Excuse me?'
The man in the bad suit looked up at him, arching a bushy, upswept
And it's all yours, if you do this for me.'
Malfeis fidgets, drumming his talons against the table. Such close proximity to so much human suffering and evil is bringing on a Jones. 'Okay. I'll do it. But I'm not going to take responsibility for anything that happens to you.'
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com )
'Did I ask you to?'
'Are you sure you want to go through with this, Sonja?'
'Your concern touches me, Mal. It really does.'
The demon shakes his head in disbelief. 'You really mean to go through with this, don't you?'
'I've already said so, haven't I?'
'Sonja, you realize once you're in there, there's no way you'll be able to get out, unless someone breaks the seal.'
'Maybe.'
'There's no maybe to it!' he retorts.
'The spell you're using is for the binding and containing of vampiric energies, right?'
'Of course. You're a vampire.'
I shrug. 'Part of me is. And I'm not letting it out to hurt anyone ever again. I'm going to kill it or die trying.'
'You're going to starve in there!'
'That's the whole point.'
'Whatever you say, girly-girl.'
I hug myself as I stare into the open doorway of the meat locker. It is cold and dark inside, just like my heart. 'Let's get this show on the road.'
Malfeis nods and produces a number of candles, bottles of oil, pieces of black chalk, and vials of white powder from his black gladstone bag. I swallow and step inside the meat locker, closing the heavy door behind me with a muffled thump.
From the diaries ofSonja Blue.
Malfeis lighted the candles and began to chant in a deep, sonorous voice, scrawling elaborate designs on the outer walls of the locker with the black chalk. As the chanting grew faster and more impassioned, he smeared oil on the hinges and handle of the door. There was an electric crackle and the door glowed with blue fire.
Malfeis's incantation lost its resemblance to human speech as it reached its climax. He carefully poured a line of white powder, made from equal parts salt, sand, and the crushed
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) bones of unbaptized babies, across the threshold. Then he stepped back to assess his handiwork.
To human eyes it looked like someone had scrawled graffiti all over the face of the stainless-steel locker, nothing more.
But to Pretender eyes, eyes adjusted to the Real World, the door to the locker was barred shut by a tangle of darkly pulsing veve, the semi-sentient protective symbols of the voodoo powers. As long as the tableau remained undisturbed, the entity known as Sonja Blue would remain trapped within the chill darkness of the meat locker.
Malfeis replaced the tools of his trade in his gladstone bag. He paused as he left the warehouse, glancing over his shoulder.
'Goodbye, girly-girl. It was nice knowing you.'
'I'm looking for Mal.'
The bartender looked up from his racing form and frowned at Judd. After taking in his unwashed hair and four days'
growth of beard, he nodded in the direction of the back booth.
Judd had never been inside the Monastery before. It had a reputation for being one of the more sleazy - and unsavory French Quarter dives, and he could see why. The booths lining the wall had once been church pews. Plaster saints in various stages of decay were on display. A Madonna, skin blackened and made leprous by age, regarded him from above the bar with flat, faded blue eyes. She held in her arms an equally scabrous Christ-child, its uplifted chubby arms ending in misshapen stumps. Hardly a place to party down big time.
He walked to the back of the bar and looked into the last booth. All he saw was a paunchy middle-aged man dressed in a bad suit smoking a cigar and reading a racing form.
'Excuse me?'
The man in the bad suit looked up at him, arching a bushy, upswept
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