Read Online Even Hell Has Knights (Hellsong) by Shaun O. McCoy - Free Book Online Page B

boy,” Pyle demanded. “Tell me.”
    “That was before my time.” Mancini’s voice shook.
    “It was, but I know you know the answer.”
    “What if I don’t know anything?”
    “Then you die.”
    He won’t kill me. He needs to know what I know, doesn’t he?
    Mancini tried to read Pyle’s face in the mirror. The room was too dark, and the scars hid any semblance of the man’s expression. Mancini’s neck cramped, and he jerked his head to one side in pain.
    “Easy, Citizen Mancini. No quick moves.”
    Mancini felt Pyle’s breath on the back of his cramped neck and tears began forming in his eyes. “I’ll answer the best I can.”
    Pyle moved slowly around Mancini, coming face to face with him. The man was a mess of burns and boils. One of his eyes was milky white. When Pyle blinked, there was only half of an eyelid to cover that eye. “I don’t really give a damn why Carlisle was looking for the boy. I knew Carlisle. All he wanted was to protect something holy. What I can’t figure out is why the Infidel was looking for him too. But you’re smart, Mancini. I know you must have it all worked out. Either that, or maybe Anna told you. You still have her locked up in your little brewery?”
    The pain in Mancini’s neck lessened a little, and he managed to swallow. “I’ll tell you anything. Anything I can remember, but I didn’t get it from her. Father Klein is the one who told me.”
    “Like I give a damn. Speak, Davel.”
    “The Infidel wanted him because there is some demon, like the Icanitzu, except it’s immune to more than just bullets. Nothing in Hell can hurt it.”
    “And the Infidel thought the boy could?” Pyle asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Because he’s made from the stuff of an angel, not Hell or Earth?”
    “Yes.”
    “But that’s ridiculous.”
    Mancini shook his head helplessly.
    “You must know something more,” Pyle insisted. “The hermit, Turi I think his name is, could he be the one.”
    Mancini shook his head. “The Infidel killed Carlisle, remember. It’s been well over a decade. That boy’s in the hands of the Infidel by now.”
    “Damn.”
    That was desperation in his voice. He’s not going to kill you. I’ve got to use this.
    Mancini gathered himself.
    This is the same man you used to work with. This is the same man who was your friend.
    “I could pass a new law in the Fore.” Mancini’s voice was quivering with his fear, but he pressed on. “Make sure that no one with a scarred face is allowed in. Make sure that someone who could recognize you identifies each hermit as they enter.”
    Pyle moved across the carpet and sat down in Michael’s favorite chair.
    Had things gone a little differently, Pyle might be the one living here, and Michael would be skulking in the wilds.
    “Was that a threat?” Pyle asked. “I might kill you now.”
    Mancini nodded, his neck stiff.
    Pyle raised his shotgun.
    Oh, God.
    Mancini’s legs almost gave out beneath him. “Kill me. Kill a Citizen. But hopefully no law will have to be passed, and you won’t have to shoot me.”
    Surely Pyle wouldn’t kill him. But this wasn’t the same person that he’d known, Mancini realized. The wilds had changed the man somehow.
    Is it possible he mutilated himself just to be able to get into Harpsborough?
    Pyle shook his head and holstered his gun. “I’m listening.”
    Mancini brought his hand up to his neck and began massaging it. “I’m the only one in Harpsborough who will talk to you, Pyle. Father Klein would die before he gives you more information. But I’m sure he does know more. I’ll grill him. I’ll find out everything he knows about the boy, bu t . . . ”
    “But what?”
    “First you have to do something for me.”
     

 
     

     
     
    “I saw you making eyes at that hermit boy,” Aaron teased her.
    “Turi? What was that, last week?” Alice laughed. “Please. He’s too young.”
    “You shouldn’t lead the poor guy on.”
    “I’m not! He’s cooped up in that