Free Bride of Death (Marla Mason) by T.A. Pratt

– seeing Nicolette’s living head, hearing her speak, had opened up a possible future path that led him toward the secret world.
    “What? Those are legitimate components in a spell to increase longevity. Obviously I didn’t have time to give him ritual instructions, but he seemed like a smart kid. He’ll figure it out.” She snickered.
    I tossed my towel across a chair and got dressed, ignoring Nicolette’s gagging sounds. She said, “I do not need to see you in all your naked glory. How many more scars are you planning to collect?”
    “At least I’ve still got a body, Orpheus. What the hell was that supposed to be this afternoon? You’re supposed to find evil, and you lead me into the path of some meth-head with a knife?”
    “You asked for chaos. I obliged.”
    “I was thinking more something supernatural. Something a little better suited to my skills. Which you know .”
    “Sure, and when I smell something like that, I’ll tell you. What, you want me to ignore ordinary people knifing other ordinary people? Okay, that’s fine with me. It’s not like I give a shit.”
    “You are a very frustrating traveling companion,” I said, showing off the gift with understatement for which I’m so widely known.
    “ You’re frustrated? I’m a head, in a cage, draped in darkness at your whim, strapped on the back of a motorcycle, only given a glimpse of daylight when it suits you . If I had hands, I’d strangle you.”
    “If you had a neck, I’d strangle you . So we’re both out of luck.”
    “This is some Gift of the Magi type shit right here.”
    I couldn’t help it. I started laughing, then turned the TV back on to keep Nicolette entertained. I retreated back into the bathroom for some relative privacy and fiddled with my phone until I figured out how to call Pelham.
    He picked up before the first ring even finished. “Mrs. Mason? Are you all right?”
    “Sure, I’m fine.”
    “Are you still on the road?”
    I sat down on the toilet and propped my feet up on the edge of predictably water-stained tub. “Nah, decided to stop early today. I’m in a motel. I smashed a guy in the face with a cup and a plate earlier, which was fun, but I figured I’d rest up after all the excitement.”
    “I am pleased to hear you’re finding a pleasant routine. How may I assist you?”
    “I brought some of my basic tools with me, but I’m in need of a couple of specialty items. I could use a handful of bombyx mori – alive or dead, doesn’t matter – and a noctuid moth. A tiger moth would work in a pinch, though.”
    “I will get in touch with one of our entomological suppliers,” Pelham said. “Silkworms and moths? May I ask what sort of enchantment you’re planning?”
    “I’m tired of Nicolette screaming at me from the back of my motorcycle, so we need a better way to communicate. You can probably get the stuff without much trouble, but the problem is getting it to me . You could make a reservation for me at some motel along tomorrow’s route and overnight the package there, so it’ll be waiting for me –”
    “I think I can do better than that. Where are you now?”
    I told him the name of the motel, then said, “Any other news of note?”
    “I haven’t heard anything from the cultists. But they’re deep in the caves below Death Valley by now, where, I imagine, phone reception is unreliable.” He sighed. “I do hope they emerge safely from their explorations.”
    “We might be better off if they just stay down there. They can form a new society, eat blind lizards, stuff like that.”
    “Hmm. More likely they’ll die. And if that happens, won’t they just show up in the underworld, and pursue their devotions for you there instead?”
    I grunted. “I hadn’t thought about that. My memory of the afterlife is too messed up for me to know if that’s going to be an issue. But my suspicion is that the underworld is a big place, and I can probably avoid them.” I sighed. “I don’t want to be