The Man Who Crossed Worlds (Miles Franco #1)

Chapter Fourteen

I snatched a coin and the half-full bottle of Kemia from my pocket, already knowing I’d be slower than Ugly. Luckily, I wasn’t alone.

As far as I knew, Vivian had never met Ugly, but it seemed she recognized a gangster when she saw one. She kicked out a leg from the couch, catching Ugly in the back of the knee. He stumbled, his hand jerking away from the knife, and he opened his mouth to shout.

Vivian’s hand flew like an arrow to Ugly’s throat, her hand closing around his windpipe and cutting the scream off. His cigarette dropped to the floor.

A ripple went through his body, his fingers extending into claws and his mouth into a snapping dog’s snout. As long as he was in Heaven, he could turn his body into a weapon. But Vivian had bought me some time, time enough to splash Kemia on a coin and open a Pin Hole.

When in Heaven, Pin Holes work a bit different. You open them roughly the same way, except it takes a slightly different frame of mind, more ordered, more focused. Only when you open it from this end, you’re tapping into our reality’s stability, rather than Heaven’s instability. You can do some nifty things by sticking some nice physics into Heaven and giving them a push to get them started.

But right then, I just wanted to stop Ugly from tearing Vivian apart. His new claws raced to slice at her arm, but then my Pin Hole kicked in.

The reality around Ugly shuddered and solidified, and his snout seemed to cave back into his face. At the same time, his claws retracted and his normal fingers reappeared. A couple of the others in the lounge had noticed the commotion, but no one had started shouting or screaming yet.

Ugly didn’t waste any time. He gave up trying to remove Vivian’s hand from his throat and went for the knife again. I lunged and wrapped my hand around his wrist. It was taking half my concentration to keep the Pin Hole open and stop Ugly from growing claws again. The other half was engaged in a battle to not set the lounge into a panic and alert the gangsters, wherever they were hiding.

Vivian got smart first. With a face that betrayed only a hint of violent effort, she stood and shoved Ugly back toward the bathrooms. I followed, snatching the Pin Hole coin from the table with a shaking hand. Ugly was going blue from lack of air and making little gurgling sounds, but Vivian kept a tight grip and pushed him backward, keeping him off balance.

We shoved him through a door into the men’s bathroom, and Vivian slammed him up against the wall with surprising strength. I scanned the bathroom quickly, concluded it was empty, and kicked the door closed without removing my hand from Ugly’s wrist.

Vivian released his throat and he sucked in air before bending over double and nearly coughing out his lungs. “Crazy fucking bitch.”

She frisked him, took the knife from his pocket and tossed it to me. Damn, it felt good to have it back in my hands. Knives like that are hard to find. I flicked it open and aimed the point at Ugly’s face, giving him a good look, and let go of his wrist.

“Who is he?” Vivian asked.

“One of Andrews’ boys.”

“Name?”

“You know, I never asked. And here I thought me and him were getting to be fast friends.” I waved the knife in his face, trying to be menacing. “What do they call you?”

The look on Ugly’s face was almost bored. He gave the knife a cursory glance, as if it were no more than a dessert spoon. “That don’t matter. I know what they’ll be calling you, though. The late Miles Franco. Dearly departed.”

“Yeah? You going to cry when they read my eulogy?”

He smirked. “No, but perhaps I’ll write you a nice obituary. Maybe it’ll teach others where they shouldn’t go sticking their noses.”