Friday, December 27, 2013

Dead Rite chapter 163.07


“You sly old dog, you.” Jasfoup patted him on the back. “A mortal relative, eh? Is he nephilim?”

“No, I don't think so. He couldn't see me, anyway.”

“They don't at that age.” Harold watched the lad pick his nose and wipe the resultant bogies on the sofa cushion. “Not unless they're specifically given the sight. Was his mum?”

“A nephilim? No. His father was.”

“What happened to him?”

“He lost a biology and science bet.”

“And they killed him for it?”

“Not exactly. He bet himself he could drink seven beers and three whisky chasers and still drive home.”

“Ah. Anybody else hurt?”

“Alas, no. He crashed into an electricity pylon and plunged three hundred houses into darkness. I did get a good haul of curses and burglaries, though, and one case of adultery.”

“A good result then. Did you collect the soul afterwards?”

“Of course. You have a special place for family, don't you?”

Jasfoup held up his hands. “I wouldn't know, mate. I've never had a human offspring.”

“You had that one a couple of years ago.” Harold nudged him with his elbow. “The dragon.”

“A dragon, yes, but harld in the binomial curve for human. Besides, it died,”

“You fathered a dragon?” Sefskapoi's eyebrows almost reached his hair. “I thought only Lucifer could do that.”

“Well...” Jasfoup grinned. “I have a small talent and a very long–”

“Sense of dedication,” Harold finished his sentence for him.

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