The question is... whether you will get to leave...
Cal Davvers smirked with a malevolent twist of his mouth.
Whether I will get to leave?
I coughed out a derisory snorf, flicking my gaze to my left shoulder and brushing at some imaginary jizzum deposited by the Hawk of Contemptuous Ejaculation.
Cal Davvers chuckled.
No fear in you, eh? I like that. It's surprising though, given that you were up to your neck in it with the REDSHIFT crew?
I pulled the chair across from Davvers out and sat down, flicking my tongue between my teeth to catch some errant beef from the night before.
Up to my neck in it? Or testing the waters to see how far this company would go in throwing money away on expensive third party deliveries that don't actually deliver... Anything.
Davvers raised an eyebrow on his ancient face as if for me to continue.
I might also remind you that no-one stopped it till I told The Clivvers exactly what was going on, every detail right down to the last fat cigar that was smoked.
I examined my nails. I was making an effort to look as casual as I could but inside I was sweating. Cal Davvers had an intimidating presence. He radiated a dark and primeval power that made my testicles burrow deep inside my body leaving my mannity nothing but a wrinkled sack.
But as my old Kung Fu master used to say.
Hit it harder! Faster! Pound it!
She was a hard taskmaster and I was almost relieved when we broke up.
I snapped back to the present.
... Yes, The Clivvers speaks highly of you. We go way back he and I. It is in part because of his... influence... I have decided to assess you myself. Perhaps you may be worthy of becoming... one of us.
Davvers chuckled again. An oily thing that slithered blackly within unseen spaces.
What say you then, BoomDawg? Will you move up here? Work for the Audit team for a short time. Let us see if you are indeed... worthy?
I tried not to reverse shit up my oesophagus into my mouth in surprise.
Work for Audit? Up here?
Yes.
Davvers languidly reached below the surface of the desk and pulled forth an unmarked bottle. He set it down on the desk with a pair of small crystal tumblers. In the dark of his office the liquid in the bottle looked brackish as it undulated back and forth within.
Seal the deal?
He poured a small measure from the bottle into each glass and offered me one.
There was a pungent stink of alcohol from it and something else, reminiscent of a lady on her dabby-doos.
I reached forth and took the tumbler nearest me.
Bottoms up.
Said Davvers. His eyes never leaving mine as he raised his glass to his lips.
Indeed.
I smirked.
If Davvers thought I was scared to try his hastily concocted Menstrual Port he should think again. I have probably drunk worse. Jose Cuervo, sprang to mind. The Tequila, not the man.
I tipped the glass back like a bull spearing an oyster on a horn.
We both rattled our glasses on the desktop at the same time.
Davvers looked at me with respect.
I will be in touch shortly with a desk move for you.
I nodded and rose. At the door I turned and gave a sardonic salute.
As I exited the floor I flung myself into the stairwell and made a hideous BOURKE noise as if I had just deep-throated an Ox.
What the hell was that stuff? I tried not to retch it back up. A valuable lesson I had learned when eating chicken hearts in Bulgaria.
My stomach gurgled disturbingly.
I made a that's not silken tofu? face as I looked back over my shoulder. The beginnings of a deep suspicion were starting to form in my mind.
The dark office, the primal and ancient majesty of the one they called Davvers and finally, the odd potion he had made me drink.
Was Cal Davvers a real life, ancient Vampire? Had I in fact, stumbled across a nest of them in our Audit department?
I pulled my fedora low over my face and headed down the stairs. Whatever was going on, this called for some top grade detectivity.
