Spike Spiegel Cigarette Novels & Stories

“I said I don’t want to talk about it. But hey do you have any more vodka left?” “No, I drank it all. But I do have this.” Azria pulled a strange looking cigarette out of his pocket. When he lit it, it smelled like skunk. He put it to his lips and took a drag. “This is better than vodka anyway.” He handed it to Abigail, she repeated the things she saw him do. That was the first, but certainly not the last time, Abigail got high.

His fitted suit was tailored to perfection, sleek and urbane in a way that jarred against the grungy backdrop. But it was the oily smirk curling his thin lips, the utter lack of anything even approximating human warmth or mercy in his gaze, that turned Lily's insides to ice despite the bravado she tried projecting. This man...this was Spike Delgado, the psychopathic kingpin who'd been tormenting them. Sure enough, James confirmed it a second later, uttering a single word like a curse: "Spike."