Inflection Point: A Quincy Harker, Demon Hunter Novel by Hartness John G

Author:Hartness, John G.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Falstaff Books
Published: 2019-12-31T00:00:00+00:00

21

Once upon a time, Mort’s had been a relatively safe, if sketchy-looking, bar on the south side of Charlotte, wedged back at the end of a long driveway stretching between an adult video shop and a strip club, right across the street from a pawn shop and a gun store. All it needed was a liquor store, and that block would have hit the cycle of sinful business establishments. Now, the exterior of Mort’s looked the same—cracked parking lot with weeds growing in the corners, low-slung white cinderblock building with four rectangular windows along the front, all blacked out by careful application of aerosolized cooking grease and cigarette smoke. The same dingy, hand-scrawled “OPEN” sign was in the window nearest the door. And the same tattered and faded burgundy awning provided absolutely zero protection from the elements for the customers.

The difference began when I walked through the front door and didn’t need to go through my typical routine of assaulting and insulting Doug the Door Demon. There used to be a vestibule where Doug could examine everyone trying to come in through the main entrance and evaluate them for trustworthiness and ability to pay the cover charge. Which was a load of shit. It was just a small foyer that gave Mort a chance to trap anyone who wanted to start some shit and deal with them before they got near his glassware.

But now Doug was gone, relegated to some minor functionary’s role back in Hell, and the inner door stood wide open. I stepped through, the first time I’d been back to Mort’s since Orobas, the Archduke of Hell, murdered Mort’s half-demon daughter Christy. That was partially my fault, but Mort forgave me almost as soon as I helped him take his revenge on Orobas. Last time I saw Mort, he was on the outs with both the legions of Hell for torturing Orobas and with the Lords of Chaos for not taking Oro’s place among their number when he killed the demon. Oh, and Mort had reinstated the Sanctuary inside his bar. Just not for me.

I was on high alert when I walked into the bar, and it looked even worse than the last time I was there. But in a totally different way. Then it looked run-down and scuzzy, like you could catch the plague just by running your hand across the bar. Now it looked like you could broker a real estate deal in the front room and probably get a blowjob in the back. It had that kind of slick Hollywood filthiness that hipsters love in their slumming. The floors and walls were clean but painted with a wash of gray to make it look dingy, even though you could almost smell the paint, it was so fresh. The pitted and cigarette-burned linoleum flooring was gone, replaced by a dark hardwood or laminate floor that perfectly set off the aluminum legs of the chairs that surrounded the custom tables carved out of bourbon barrels and fashioned from huge wire spools.

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