Aloha from Hell (Sandman Slim 3)

She turns to me. Her eyes are red slits in black ice. Her nails have grown out into curved claws and her mouth is full of sharp white shark teeth. Someone screams. Then a whole lot of people start screaming, which is the way it usually goes when people see a monster for the first time.

“Come on. He’s not going to get any deader.”

It takes her a minute to register my words. The beast is in control now and it takes a few seconds for the human part of her to get back online.

She walks over to me, her human face slowly replacing the Jade’s. I put my arm around her, whisper, “Thanks for looking out for me,” and kiss the top of her head.

Most of Cale’s crew is long gone. Only his girl is still there. I walk over to his body and push his head to the side. He’s a mess. When I wipe the blood away, I can make out the tattoos on his scalp and the rusty gears in my brain go click, click, click.

“What the hell is that doing there?” I ask Cale’s girl.

The girl says, “That’s the symbol for Sister Ludi. She’s a protector spirit.”

“I know what she is. What is she doing on Cale’s scalp?”

“What do you noWhat domean?”

“Sister Ludi is fake. A gaff. She’s something Sub Rosa touts made up to sell fake idols and potions to tourists. What’s her symbol doing on the head of someone who had to know that?”

A better question is what does a demon have to do with a fake goddess? I recognize it now. Sister Ludi’s sigil is the same symbol that was burned over the bed in Hunter’s room.

“Oh, that. It’s for Hunahpu. He’s really into Sister Ludi. He thinks saying she’s fake is some kind of Anglo conspiracy. Cale wore it to show respect and Hunahpu gave him a cut rate on product.”

She keeps looking at Cale’s body with no way to process what just happened. I feel a little sorry for her. But I feel sorrier for Hunter.

“Was it Hunahpu who gave you the special Akira for the Sentenza kid?”

“I don’t know who it was for, but yeah, Cale said there was a special batch for someone.”

“That’s all I needed to know.”

I take her by the arm and walk her to a cab that’s been waiting outside the club. Like everyone else, the driver is standing and gawking at the mess. I put Cale’s girl in the backseat and close the door.

“Listen to me,” I say, leaning in the window. “It’s hard and nasty what you saw tonight, but you’re lucky it happened now. Cale was never going to last doing what he does. There are people out there ten times harder and a hundred times meaner than Cale was ever going to be. He was always going to end up on his back with holes in him. The difference is if you’d stuck around much longer, you’d be lying in blood next to him, another dumb dead girl in a place that spews out more dumb dead girls than smog. Go home. Be sad for a while. When you’re over it, fall in love with someone who has better tattoos.”

I go around, give the driver some money, and tell him to take her home. Before he can get in the cab, I take out the .460 and pop a few rounds over the crowd’s head. The cut-down shotgun shells I’d loaded it with aren’t filled with pellets, but with one of Vidocq’s memory powders. It will scrub away the last hour from everyone’s brain. I might have a bad temper and be dating someone who eats people, but I’m not stupid enough to leave witnesses.

Someone’s dropped a coat on the ground. I pick it up, take Candy by the arm, and walk her around the corner. When we’re out of sight of the club, I use the coat to wipe Cale’s blood from her face and hands.

I say, “Thanks for saving me back there.”

Her eyes are a little vacant.

“Wow. I haven’t done that to a person for a long fan for a time.”

“How are you feeling?”

“A little spacey, but okay. Are you okay? We should get you to see Allegra to get the bullet out.”

“I’m fine. It barely grazed me and I’ve already stopped bleeding.”

She leans against the wall, a little out of breath.

“He shot you. I wouldn’t have done what I did if he hadn’t shot you.”

“I know.”

She stares at me, her eyes still a little unfocused, but she’s coming back to earth.