It tasted like ass. I swallowed. I gagged. Then I coughed. The Devil laughed at me again. He’d been charming at first, but he was really beginning to annoy me.
“It’s an acquired taste,” he said, moving my empty glass to the desk and sitting down again. “Like caviar. Or lamb’s blood.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” I muttered.
He only smiled in response. “So let’s get down to brass tacks, here,” he said, tenting his fingers in front of him. “I’ve been looking forward to this meeting for a long time, and I must confess that I really don’t know how to begin.”
That sounded slightly ominous.
“There’s a lot you need to understand,” he continued. “A lot of information you need to take in. And there isn’t really an easy way to start, so maybe the best thing for me to do is introduce myself in a little more detail.” He leaned forward. “I’m the Devil. I’m also your great grandfather.”
That was not what I was expecting. All I could think of to say was, “What?”
Without consulting his file, he said, “Jason Giles. Born January fifth, nineteen ninety-five. Father, Edward Giles, born May twenty-eighth, nineteen sixty-six. His mother, Evelyn Reilly, born April second, nineteen thirty-three.” He gestured to himself with both hands. “Her father, Conrad Reilly, born November eighteenth, nineteen-oh-eight. Died, June ninth, nineteen sixty-one. Been the reigning king of Hell for the last five decades.”