Broken(52)

    I let my teeth grind together as she closed the door behind her, and then pulled the gun back into view.

    “You don’t need that, you know,” Fries said and tried a broad grin.

    I let out a noise that I could only describe as loathing giving auditory form. “I hate you. I hate you so much, that I am indeed going to start filling you with bullets the next time you speak and say something I don’t want you to say.” I pulled back the hammer and his eyes got wide. “I’m aiming for your groin first, then your kneecaps, and then, eventually, when I’m bored, I’ll try locating that minuscule pea you use to think.” I pretended to give it a moment’s thought. “Wait, no, I said I was going to shoot you in the groin first, didn’t I?”

    I could see the strain in his face; he didn’t doubt me. “What do you want?” His whole body was taut, his shoulders stiff under his snow-specked winter coat.

    I took a breath and listened for the voices within. They were quiet, in agreement for once, total harmony, and I didn’t know whether to be greatly comforted or greatly disturbed by that. I let out a long, slow exhale. “I want you to call Janus,” I said, letting my finger play with the idea of just pulling the trigger and being done with it. I held back, letting whatever angels were left in my nature take the helm. I doubted there were many at this point. “I want you to call him and tell him to get his ass over here, right now.

    “I’m ready to talk.”