Infernal

3

-45:42

Tom awoke and stretched. He felt crummy. A little nausea, a thick tongue, burning nostrils. Now he remembered why he'd kicked that habit.

Still, last night's little toot had got him through his bad case of the downs. Didn't make today look any better, though.

He checked the clock: after ten. He hadn't heard from Jack. Not that he expected to, but he was eager to learn what he and Gia had found during their all-nighter.

He forced himself upright, waited for the room to stop wobbling, then checked out the bedside phone. Three speed-dial buttons. He pressed number one.

Someone picked up alter three rings. Jack.

"Hey, it's Tom. Any luck last night?"

"Yeah. Lucky for you. You had your sorry ass yanked out of the fire."

"You mean—?"

"Yeah. Gia found something in the book that erased Vicky's Stain."

"Oh, thank God! That's wonderful news!"

And he meant it. Now he might work his way back into Gia's good graces. And of course it was a relief that her little girl was out of danger.

"For you too," Jack said. "You get to live a little longer."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Never mind. Just count yourself lucky."

And then Tom was holding a dead phone. Jack had hung up on him. Must be still pissed at him.

Who cared?

Tom did a quick wash-up, dressed, then headed for the street. He caught a cab on Columbus Avenue and told the driver to take him to Eight Sutton Square.