Chapter 67

I turned off my internal, infernal beam and stared across the floor. Lola was gazing down at the motionless corpse on the ground, Blondella’s wig and fingertips all that remained outside the crash site. The guards, in the meanwhile, stared at one another in confusion. This, after all, was their meal ticket, even if said meal consisted of nothing but salt. They then turned to Lola for an explanation, something, anything. After all, they hadn’t thought for themselves in ages and ages.

“Oh no,” she sobbed, ever the glorious actress, falling to her knees to see if there was anything to be done. “She’s dead,” came the eventual conclusion.

“Um . . .” said one of the guards, clearly thinking the obvious.

Lola glanced up. “And gone. Forever.” To which she added, “Now you’ll have no one left to command you. What will you do?”