I materialized a moment later in my office, gripping Azraal’s head by what was left of its throat.
Gus abruptly stood up from behind my desk, his eyes wide. “Whoa, boss-man,” he said slowly, “Is that a head?”
“No, it’s a collectible lunchbox, you imbecile,” Azraal snapped. I think getting decapitated may have put him in a sour mood.
“Bro,” Gus breathed reverently, “Did you chop off Azraal’s head?”
I was about to tell him that I did, when Azraal muttered, “More like brutally ripped off my head.”
“Things seem to have taken several different turns for the worse,” I told Gus grimly, as Azraal murmured something about me having all the precision of a blind one-armed spinal surgeon.
“Yeah, it’s one shitstorm after another,” Gus said.
I nodded. “Where are Torvin and Gavsot?”
Gus furrowed his brow. “What do you mean? I don’t know.”
“They didn’t just teleport in a minute ago?” I asked, my blood pressure rising rapidly. What did Torvin do? How could he have messed up such a simple order?
Gus shook his head. “I haven’t seen Torvin since you took him back to rescue the General. I have no idea where they are.”
I was pissed and I needed to hurt something, so I hurled Azraal’s head against the wall. He probably exclaimed in pain, but it was drowned out by my own growl of frustration.