I open my left hand. It hurts from being balled tight into a fist.
“So what changed your mind?” Kasabian asks. “From where I sit, the world is exactly as shitty as it was when you left.”
“It was that night I killed the Drifters. It would have been so easy to sit down and have a cigarette and let them eat the city. But when it came right down to it, I didn’t want to. It’s as simple as that. I wanted to live and I wanted Vidocq and Candy, Allegra, and Brigitte to live. And if I murdered the world, I’d be Mason and I didn’t want to be him.”
“You’re quite the humanitarian. By the way, thanks a fuck of a lot for leaving me off your who-to-save list.”
“You’re on it, Alfredo Garcia. I just didn’t want to say it out loud and have you call me Nancy or Tinker Bell.”
“Yeah, I would have done that.”
“Behave yourself, and when I’m Downtown maybe I can find some Hellion alchemists who can stitch you onto a new body. You can have Mason’s after I kill him.”
Kasabian snorts.
“Yeah. That’s what I want. Every time I pee I can look down and see Mason’s dick in my hand. That won’t give me nightmares.”
“But think how upset the dick’s going to be when it looks up and sees you.”
IN THE MORNING Candy, Vidocq, and I head back to Studio City in Allegra’s car. Vidocq borrowed it. He’s on a kick about not riding in stolen vehicles all the time. For a people who invented absinthe and blow jobs, sometimes the French can be a drag.
After hearing Kasabian’s story last night, I was itchy to talk to the Sentenzas and didn’t want to wait until the A.M., but they have a skull-fucked-by-evil kid wandering the streets and I didn’t want to have to haul them to an emergency room with matching coronaries.
Candy is a lot more of a morning person than I am, which is easy since I refuse to believe in the existence of a 10 A.M. But she’s insistent enough and strong enough to drag my ass out of bed and pour me into some clothes. She even found a coffeemaker in the kitchenette that wasn’t broken. Coffee isn’t the perfect morning drug, but it’ll do until someone invents French Roast adrenochrome.
What’s pissing me off is that I’m going to have to dance around a lot of what I’ve learned about Hunter and his pals. K.W. and Jen aren’t goinHe&x2019;tg to want to hear how close Hunter was to some really nasty drug peddlers. And I’m sure as hell not going to tell them about Aelita. I still don’t know why she’d go after TJ’s brother. It’s not like driving the kid crazy threatens anyone I care about. Me included. I could walk away from this anytime and it wouldn’t change a damn thing in my life.
We get to the Sentenzas’ place around eleven. Their car and truck are both in the driveway. Nothing surprising there. K.W. seems like a real worker bee, but a missing kid will dull your work ethic. The three of us go up the stone walkway and I ring the bell.
A minute or so later Jen opens the door. She’s in a red silk robe. Her hair is a mess and her eyes are red. She’s been crying and it looks like she just got up. She doesn’t say anything. She just stands aside and lets us in.
“This isn’t good news, is it?” she asks.
“Why do you say that?”
“Hunter isn’t with you and you don’t look much better than I feel.”
K.W. comes down the stairs. He’s in a blue tracksuit. It looks like he slept in it.
“Have you found him?”
“I’m afraid not,” says Vidocq. Bad news sounds better with his accent. “But we know a lot more than we did when we left here yesterday.”
I say, “What happened to Hunter wasn’t his fault. It was done to him. That might sound bad, but it’s actually good news. If he was set up for the possession, it means someone wanted to make a point, one that hasn’t been made yet. That means whoever did it still needs him. Wherever Hunter is, I’m sure that he’s still alive.”
Their bodies change when they hear that. I can feel their nervous systems unknot. Their breathing and heart rates get somewhere in the neighborhood of normal. K.W. even manages a minuscule smile.
“That’s great news. So, why are you here? Do you need something else from us?”
Jen breaks in.
“Who would do something like that to Hunter?”
No way I’m answering that.
“We’re not sure,” says Candy. “That’s why we’re here. We need to ask you a few more questions.”
“I’ll put on some coffee,” says Jen, and heads for the kitchen. K.W. nods in her direction and we follow.