“When did you force any of us to do anything? Everything we did we did because we wanted to.”
“Still. I get the distinct feeling that coming back was a bad idea. People were safer when I was gone.”
“Safer and better off aren’t the same thing,” says Brigitte. “Has it been quieter? Yes. Has it been as interesting? No.”
“Look at Candy. Look at Alessa. Look at Kasabian clanking around on that metal body. That might be too interesting for my taste anymore.”
Brigitte comes in and sits on the edge of the sink.
“What does that mean? Suicide? Exile?”
I flex my stiff knees.
“Is it too late to run away with the circus?”
She looks at the ceiling.
“You’re impossible when you’re like this. A maudlin child.”
“I’m joking. I’m not going anywhere but six feet in the ground. This body won’t last much longer and the hoodoo speed I took, I can feel wearing off.”
She brushes some dirt off my face.
“If you’ve already written your epitaph, why do anything?”
“Because I have to make sure all of you are safe. That means securing this place and me killing some people before I go.”
Brigitte looks at me.
“At least when you talk that way you sound alive. Now, how can I help?”
I point at the stuff from the medicine cabinet that I dumped in the sink.
“You can look through those bottles and see if I missed anything marked ‘energy’ or ‘restorative’ or ‘invigoration.’ Something like that.”
She begins picking through the bottles.
Allegra comes in a couple of minutes later.
“Well, aren’t you a sight?” she says.
“The good news is that I feel worse than I look.”
“That’s hard to imagine.”
She puts down her bag and looks at my shoulder and side.
“I can’t see anything through all that plastic. Take it off.”
“I’m just going to start bleeding again.”
“Then get in the tub first.”
I slice everything off with the black blade. My blood has gone from burned motor oil to the color of squid ink. There is no way for it to get darker, which, in its own weird way, is a relief.
Allegra frowns as she looks at my wounds.
“Does that hurt?” she says over and over.
“I told you. I can’t feel much of anything.”
“Your skin feels like soft cheese.”
“That’s very reassuring, doctor.”
She gives me a look.
“Normally, I’d try to keep things simple, sew you up or cauterize the wound, but I’m not sure your skin can handle either of those.”
“Is there anything you can do?”
“I have a potion that might stop the bleeding.”
“Try it. I’m sick of leaking like an inflatable sex sheep.”
Allegra looks up at me. “Do they really have those?”
“Right down the aisle from the pancake-shaped Fleshlights.”
“Now I know you’re making stuff up.”
“Everybody likes a good breakfast. Some people want to make sweet, sweet love to it.”
“I’m not going to ask how you know that.”
From the sink, Brigitte says, “I’m sorry, Jimmy. I can’t find anything.”
“That’s okay. It was a long shot.”
“What are you looking for?” Allegra asks her.
“A restorative of some kind.”
Allegra looks at me.
“Are we doing speed now, too?”
“I need something to help me keep moving. If I stop, I’m afraid I’ll fall apart.”
She goes to the sink and dampens a washcloth.
“I might have something for that too. Let me clean you up and we can try it.”
She wipes the blood off my wounds and uses a small spray bottle to apply a potion. The bleeding doesn’t stop, but it slows to a trickle.
Allegra says, “I’ve never seen this not work.”
“Like you said. I’m made of cheese. It just happens to be the kind with holes in it. Anyway, it’s better than it was before.”
“You might still want to use the plastic to make sure the wounds stay closed.”
“That’s what I was thinking too.”
She paws through her bag and hands me a couple of triangular pink pills.
“This might give you a little more energy.”
I dry-swallow them. They taste like licorice.
“How do you feel?” she says.
“The same as before.”
“I’ll let you have one more, but that’s it.”
I swallow the third pill and wait.
“Anything?”
“Nothing.”
She looks back in her bag.
“Those are some very powerful stimulants. If they’re not working, I’m not sure what else I can give you.”
“Don’t worry about it. I just need to keep going for another two or three hours.”
“What happens then?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Oh,” she says softly. “I wish you’d come to me earlier.”
“I wish I didn’t have to. Anyway, you don’t work on dead things. Thanks for trying.”
She gets up and gives me a little hug.
“I’m going to go back and check on Candy.”
“Good. I’m sorry about you and Vidocq.”
“Me too,” Allegra says, and goes back to the living room.
Brigitte helps wrap me back up in cling wrap. After Allegra’s cheese comment, I put extra plastic around my legs and duct tape everything in place.
“How do I look?”
“Awful. Simply awful.”
“Come on. I need food if I’m going to keep going.”
Brigitte helps me get dressed. On the way to the kitchen, I go over to Candy.
“How are you feeling?”
“A lot better,” she says.
Alessa leans into my line of sight.
“Don’t even talk to her. You’ve caused enough trouble.”
“It’s all right,” Candy says. “I’ve been through lots worse than this.”
“And that makes it okay?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“You come up with all kinds of excuses for this guy, but listen to me. This is not a healthy relationship.”
“Don’t talk about Stark like that. He stuck with me through some really tough times. He’s the one who came up with Chihiro when the Feds were looking for me.”
“And why did you need to invent Chihiro? Because he dragged you into one of his messes.”
“No. It was because I almost killed somebody.”
Alessa looks at her.
“I never told you because I was embarrassed. A while ago, something happened with the potion I drink to suppress my Jade feeding urges. I almost killed someone. The Golden Vigil arrested me and were going to send me to an internment camp. Stark saved me.”
Alessa keeps staring. Then she says, quietly, “I never said he was a monster. But helping you then doesn’t make up for what happened today.”
Brigitte takes my arm and pulls me into the kitchen.
“They need to work this out between themselves,” she says. “We shouldn’t eavesdrop.”
I look back at the two of them.
“It’s like being at your own funeral and finding out what people really think of you.”
Brigitte opens the refrigerator.
“What do you want to eat?”
I follow her over.
“Meat. I think protein helps me keep going.”
Carlos and Kasabian come in while we pile food on the kitchen island.
“That’s all there is?” Carlos says.
I pick up a piece of chicken.
“We’ve pretty much cleaned out the fridge.”
He checks the cupboards
for spices. Slams the doors shut.
“This is the whitest kitchen I’ve ever been in,” he says. “I was going to make some food at the bar, but I can’t work with this Brady Bunch shit.”
“If I live, I’ll pass that on to Abbot. In the meantime, have some bologna and mayonnaise.”
He does an exaggerated shudder.
“You’re going to turn me into a vegetarian.”
Everybody eats and tries not to listen to the argument in the living room.
Soon, Allegra comes in and stands next to me.
She says, “Candy doesn’t have a concussion.”
“That’s great news.”
“Mind if I join you?”
“Of course not,” says Brigitte.
She passes me a plate and I hand it to Allegra.
While she piles on food, I try to eat another piece of sliced turkey. It gets halfway to my mouth before I drop it. My stomach cramps. I run into the bathroom and vomit. All I can hope is that what came up is just food and no important organs.
Allegra comes in as I’m rinsing out my mouth.
“What happened?” she says.
“I don’t think my body likes food anymore.”
“That might be why the pills didn’t work. Your digestive system has shut down.”
“Meaning the drugs aren’t going to work on me anymore?”
“It’s doubtful,” she says.
“That’s good to know.”
I go to Kasabian.
“Do you have any cigarettes?”
He pulls a pack from his pocket and slaps them into my hand.
“Thanks,” I say as he walks away.
I open one of the egg-shaped windows and light up.
Candy and Alessa continue their tense conversation. Everybody else retreats to the kitchen.
About halfway through my first cigarette, I notice movement on the hillside. I keep smoking but watch the rocks and scrub below. Something metallic flashes for an instant and is gone. A gun? Another piece of equipment? Someone is definitely coming up the hill.
I crush the cigarette and toss it out the window.
“Everybody listen up,” I yell. “I think there’s somebody outside, which means we can’t stay. Grab whatever shit you need and get ready to move.”
Kasabian comes out of the kitchen.
“What are you talking about? I thought we were safe here.”
“We were. And now we’re not. We’re leaving in one minute, so get ready.”
Everybody runs around grabbing things. I go into Howard’s room.
“Get up. We’re leaving.”
He says, “I heard you yelling. What’s wrong?”
“Armed people are coming up the hill.”
“They found me then. I knew Eva and Barron would send someone for me.”
“What makes you think it’s Wormwood?”
He looks at me suspiciously.
“Who else could it be?”
“The faction. I just escaped from one of their cells.”
“You’re lying.”
“What if I’m not? What do you think those faction freaks are going to do to you if they find you?”
He thinks for a minute. Then, “Where are we going?”
“I’m not telling you.”
He frowns but follows me into the living room.
I go back to the window. Whoever is down there is a lot closer than they were a minute ago. I wish I hadn’t used the locator coin at the Golden Vigil’s headquarters. I liked the idea of Abbot finding them then, but I like the idea of his finding us now a lot more.
I check my guns. Both are empty. The knife and na’at won’t work from this distance and anyway, there are too many of them. I pat my pockets. The only thing I come up with is the little crystal Hijruun gave me.
I still have no fucking idea what it is, but I open the window and throw it out as hard as I can.
Someone shoots and the window explodes. More gunshots come through the wall.
I duck and head for the others as they run for the other side of the room.
Before I shadow-walk them out, the gunfire stops and screaming tears through the open window. I run back over and look out.
The side of the hill is swarming with skinless snakes. They’re nothing but slithering lengths of squirming bones, but they have fangs and they’re using them to rip apart whoever was coming up the hill.
I run back to the others.
“Are we safe?” says Kasabian.
“Not even a little.”
I grab his arm and pull everyone into a shadow.
We come out at the corner of Sunset Boulevard and Las Palmas.
“Let’s go to the store,” yells Kasabian.
We don’t.
Before we can even move, three blacked-out vans pull U-turns and head in our direction.
I yank everyone into another shadow.
We come out on Venice Beach. More vans pull into the parking lot behind us.
This time I take us out to LAX. We’re there about thirty seconds before airport security heads our way. A few seconds after that, more vans pull up.
“How are they doing this?” yells Kasabian.
“Is it a locator spell?” says Candy.
I drag us into another shadow.
“I don’t think so. I think it’s something simpler.”
This time we don’t come out anywhere. We stop in the Room.
I pull everything out of my coat and pockets and drop it on the floor.
“What are you doing?” says Carlos.
“Looking for something.”
“A tracker?” says Candy.
“Exactly. They had my gear for a while. It has to be there.”
She gets down on the floor with me and starts checking my weapons.
“What will it look like?” she says.
“I don’t know. It’s Golden Vigil equipment. It could be anything.”
“Are we safe here?” says Alessa.
“Completely. Even God can’t get in here.”
“Then why don’t we just stay here?” says Howard.
“Because Stark might die,” says Allegra.
I check the Colt. Look down the barrel. Examine the cylinder.
“She’s right. There are things I have to do. If I left you here and died, you’d never get out. If I stay here and die, you’ll still be trapped.”
“What’s this?” says Candy. “I don’t have one of these on my knife.”
She hands me the black blade and points to the pommel.
She’s right. There’s a small bump in the center. It’s absolutely smooth. Nothing you’d ever find if you weren’t looking for it.
“Do you think that’s it?” says Carlos.
I flip over the blade and smash the pommel into the floor of the Room. When I check the knife again, whatever was on it is gone.
I show Candy.
“Good eye,” I tell her.
“Thanks.”
Alessa helps her to her feet.
“What do we do now?” says Brigitte.
I load my weapons back into my coat and look at Carlos.
“Let’s go see a couple of bookworms.”
“Now you’re talking,” he says.
VIDOCQ’S APARTMENT IS actually my old apartment, the one I shared with Alice when she was alive. After Mason Faim sent me to Hell, Vidocq took over the place and used some clever hoodoo to make it invisible. You can’t see it unless he wants you to. And if the wrong person ever does get a look at it, they’ll forget it instantly. It’s a good deal all around. L.A. is an expensive burg and Vidocq has been living rent-free for twelve years now.
I bring everyone out in the lobby of the building and we ride the freight elevator up. It wasn’t technically necessary to come this way. I could have just taken us out in the hall by Vidocq’s door, but I wanted one last elevator ride upstairs. I rode this way with Alice a million times and, later, with Candy. If I’m going out, I’m taking a few good memories with me.
As the elevator whines and jostles us on the way up I look at her.
I say, “How are you feeling?”
“Better. Whatever Allegra gave me really helped. How about you?” she says.
“Good. I’ve got another couple of hours in me.”
“That’s not what I mean. I mean being back here.”
“It’s fine. Some nice memories.”
“And the bad ones?”
“Those too. I don’t want to forget anything.”
She reaches out and holds my hand for a second, then lets go. Smart. If there was ever a time for letting go, this is it.
When we get upstairs, I lead everyone down what looks like an empty hall that dead-ends at a window.
“How’s your head doing?” says Carlos. “I think you took us the wrong way.”
I look at Alessa. She and Howard are the only other ones who’ve never been here, and she’s looking at me like I’ve finally lost it.
I don’t say anything. When I knock, all they see is me banging on a blank wall. It’s even stranger for them when the wall opens up and Vidocq is there.
“James,” he says, pulling me inside. He’s French and two hundred years old, so he can’t help greeting everyone like he’s Louis the Sun King. “Let me look at you,” he says. “You look like shit.”
“Good to see you too, old man.”
“At least your absence wasn’t eleven years like your last trip. How was your time in Le Merdier?”
“Dusty. There was a judge down there. He spoke more languages and was crazier than you. If I live, I’ll tell you all about it.”
Ray comes over and frowns.
“I was hoping the potion would last a little bit longer.”
“I’m still on my feet. That’s enough for now.”
Carlos goes over to Ray.
“I didn’t expect to see you over here,” Ray says.
“It was the kitchen. All white bread and American cheese. These fuckers can do magic, but they’re afraid of spices,” says Carlos.
Since Vidocq took over the apartment, it’s always been full of moldering books and pamphlets, weird alchemical lab equipment, and cases full of potions and elixirs. Now that Allegra is gone, his tools have completely taken over the place. There’s hardly a table or countertop that isn’t stacked with books or stained by his noxious brews. The life of a bachelor alchemist, I guess.
Howard immediately heads for Vidocq’s books.
“Keep an eye on that guy,” I tell him. “He’s a necromancer, a liar, and a book burner.”