Dinadan Noir IV: Guido and Nunzio

It wasn’t long before the consequences of my little foray into the ‘Phile showed up on my doorstep. They were big, both of ‘em, dangerous looking even for thuuls. They shouldered their way into my office, quite literally bringing darkness with them.

“Lumen.” I was pleased to see them squint, not so pleased to see that they were wearing some kind of goggles that presumably let them see.

“Alright then, gentlemen. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit.”

They looked at each other, then back at me, grinning. “Youse have poked yer nose where it don’t belong, goat-boy. We’s here to ‘splain that to ya in terms ya can unnerstand.” They cracked their knuckles in unison.

“Terms that I can understand, eh?” I cracked my knuckles, too, making a point to do it as daintily as possible. “I can recommend several good elocution coaches.”

Guido turned to Nunzio—I never did catch their names, but I still think of ‘em this way—and grunted. “You want that we should commence to wreckin’ your place, goat? Maybe start wit’ ‘dat thick head o’ yours?”

“Gentlemen, I don’t have the honor of comprehending the message you wish to convey.” Nonsense, of course. I knew exactly what they were about.

“This ain’t a convoy. This is a message from Upal Toth.”

Upal Toth. Should have expected that name sooner or later. A Yaag-nesh like Aagren, and the most powerful uncle left in the Borales Family. At least it wasn’t Gero—a six hundred year old vampire mage was more than I wanted to deal with. Toth was just a psychic thug with a knack for finding opportunities. “And what exactly is Mister Toth’s interest in my nose?”

“‘Avin it broke real good if you don’t keep it to yerself.”

“Sorry, gents. A job’s a job. And I was just out looking for new gigs. Brothels don’t pay much, but sometimes the fringe benefits are worth the hassle.”

“We know dat stinkin’ crab girl was here before she got whacked. We know she was a tag at da Phile. We can put five an’ two t’gether. You stay outta Family business.”

“Five and two, huh?”

“Five,” he flexed his taloned fingers, “an’ two.” He curled them into a fist and showed it along with its companion.

“Ah. You came for piano lessons. I don’t generally recommend the wormtooth outside for beginners, but why don’t you go out and have a go.”

The spiky fists came down my desk. “Stop playin’ dumb!”

I grinned and let the amusement drop out of my voice. “At least in my case it’s just play. Go home, gentlemen.”

“You wanna play? You wanna play!?” Nunzio this time, positively steaming.

“I really think you ought to look into those elocution lessons. Now. The gentleman you want to talk to is named Ardo Caspar, a vulpin in—”

They started to come around my desk, murder in their eyes. Not for the first time, I wondered if I had pushed things too far. I gave up grabbing for words and reached for something a little less subtle. My Drakontousia’s roar was certainly part of their vocabulary. Never mind that there were two of them, and that there wasn’t much room to swing it in the office. When somebody points a chunk of undead dragon at you, you pay attention. “You can tell your boss you delivered your message. You’ve done your job. Nobody’s gotta get their blood all over my floorboards. Run on home, and don’t bother coming back.”

They backed off a few steps. “Youse goin’ to regret dis, goat.”

“Probably.” I nodded.

They backed away. “You ain’t seen the last of of us!”

It was true, of course. Idiots were easily startled. But they would be back, and in greater numbers.