More Threats

“Well?” Mills asks. “I don’t know. What with the mortal coil I started wearing they don’t trust me anymore,” I shoot back. I innocently check my pockets for cigarettes. They took the gun and everything else. At least they’ve got that going for them. “What were you doing in there?” he asks. “Keeping you idiots from getting killed. I know vampires and I know when they’re acting funny. I recognized one of the guys and decided to do things the old fashioned way,” I reply. Mills balls up the cup and throws it in the garbage. It’s annoying because after watching him I suddenly feel thirsty. “And what would the old fashioned way be?” he asks. “I asked him,” I reply. Apparently jokes about the obvious don’t go over well with Mills because he backhands me right over my rosy cheek. “Now you listen to me, you sick son of a bitch. I never wanted you here. I’d have killed you back at the warehouse if it weren’t for Agent Ferris stopping me. I’d have killed you when they brought you in too, three months ago. So start acting like the piece of shit you are and talk,” he snarls. The blood is back in my mouth and I find myself wishing everyone would stop using violence to get information out of me. At least the Nod worshippers had a friend trick me into it. “I don’t owe you a fucking thing, Mills. I don’t owe you or any of these corny Paladin bastards anything. I was one step from the hangman dance when I was hired. So either shoot me or start calming down, but don’t think for a second death threats phase me,” I yell back. He sits down, still glaring at me, and watches me while I pour myself a cup of water. “If you want the Book back, you need to listen to me very carefully. Because without that wad of paper, killing me would be the last happy moment of your life,” I say.