Dead Man s Hand Page 0,142

way away. "I can't hurt him."

Ti Malice's atrophied legs kicked feebly at Blaise's face as it moved off the boy and onto Jay. It must have kicked too hard. Blaise winced. For a moment, Jay felt his fingers flex.

The thing was crawling across him, his flesh crawling beneath it. But there was something important...... "Shit!" Jay said.

"Master!" Sascha cried out in alarm.

Jay drowned out his warning with a shout. "Hiram!" he screamed. "Hurt Blaise, dammit. Hurt Blaise!"

Hiram kicked the boy in the head.

Charm was stumbling forward, Ezili, Sascha, but they were all late, too late. Jay had his body back. He rolled to one side and came down flat on his back, with Ti Malice clinging to his chest, thrashing as frantically as a worm impaled on a hook.

His hand came up, but his fingers were like wood.

Ti Malice slithered up his chest, looking straight down into his eyes.

Jay folded back three fingers, stuck one out, lifted his thumb, tried to point. His hand was shaking.

The blind snake came coiling out.

Jay stuck a shaking finger into Ti Malice's eye. There was a short, crisp pop.

Jay felt a sharp pain, and blood began to spurt from the hole in his neck, but he hardly noticed. The weight was off his chest.

Ezili screamed.

"Oh, God," Sascha said.

Blaise began to weep uncontrollably.

And behind him, he heard Hiram Worchester say, very softly, "It's over."

10:00 A.M.

The Atlanta airport was crowded with weary delegates heading for home, still buzzing about a convention that no one was ever likely to forget. Brennan pushed through them, uncaring and unseeing, with Jennifer in his wake. They didn't even stop to join the crowd watching a midget being cut out of a cat carrying case. He staggered out, rumpled and redeyed, croaking, "Water, water!"

They were nearing the end of the line, but Brennan was feeling no elation. His anesthesia-provoked dream of the night before was still vivid in his mind. Intellectually he didn't blame himself for Chrysalis's death, but he realized that emotionally he did. He remembered the line from Tachyon's eulogy about the harsh expectations Chrysalis's ghost would have, but he knew that Chrysalis's ghost wasn't driving him. It was his own savage ghost, fueled by his unrelenting memories of her.. He wondered if he'd ever be able to lay her to rest.

They caught a cab downtown and stopped at a pawnshop to buy two guns, a Walther PPK automatic for Brennan and a Smith and Wesson .38 Chief Special for Jennifer. He paid cash; the proprietor didn't ask any questions.

Noon

The hospital wanted to admit all three of them, but Jay was having none of it. He hung around just long enough to answer a few questions, cadge a fresh supply of painkillers, and make sure they were going to take good care of Blaise. Then he grabbed Hiram and had the nurse phone for a cab.

The cellar of the burned-out ruin where Ti Malice had set up housekeeping was almost an hour's ride from the center of Atlanta. Hiram stared vacantly out the window as they drove. Every now and then he had a fit of uncontrollable trembling, and a look of panic came into his eyes. "I'm all alone now," he said once. Jay didn't reply. Conversation would have required more energy than he had right now. He stretched out and closed his eyes.

The next thing he knew, Hiram was prodding him gently in the ribs. "We're here," he said.

Jay sat up groggily, fumbled for his wallet. It was empty. "I've paid the fare already," Hiram said. He helped Jay out of the taxi and into the hotel.

An alarm was screeching in the Marriott lobby; one of the elevators was stuck between floors. Jay winced; his headache was already a blinding band of pain behind his eyes, the noise was the last thing he needed. He jabbed at the call button savagely, and they took a different elevator up to Tachyon's floor.

Jay unlocked the suite with Blaise's key, turned on the lights, and went to the bar to mix himself a stiff one. Hiram poked his head into the bedroom. "Tachyon?" he called out. There was no answer. "He's not here," Hiram said, returning to the living room.

"Yeah," Jay said. "I figured." He sat down to wait. Hiram moved to the bar and looked at the bottles, but made no move to mix himself a drink. He just stood there, staring, like a big lost child. Then he started to tidy up. He rinsed out a couple of