Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab (BPAL) American Gods General Catalog Perfume Oil (Available)
"Cigarette, sir?"
"No, thank you."
"You don't mind if I do?"
"Go right ahead."
The driver used a Bic disposable lighter, and it was in the yellow light of the flame that Shadow saw the man's face, actually saw it for the first time, and recognized him, and began to understand.
Shadow knew that thin face. He knew that there would be close-cropped orange hair beneath the black driver's cap, cut close to the scalp. He knew that when the man's lips smiled they would crease into a network of rough scars.
"You're looking good, big guy," said the driver.
"Low Key?" Shadow stared at his old cellmate warily.
Prison friendships are good things: they get you through bad places and through dark times. But a prison friendship ends at the prison gates, and a prison friend who reappears in your life is at best a mixed blessing.
"Jesus. Low Key Lyesmith," said Shadow, and then he heard what he was saying and he understood. "Loki," he said. "Loki Lie-Smith."
"You're slow," said Loki, "but you get there in the end." And his lips twisted into a scarred smile and embers danced in the shadows of his eyes.
Black clove and cassia flung onto glowing cinders and mingled with slow-dripping poisons.
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