Muninn takes my hand and shakes it warmly.
“You keep my crystal safe and I’ll keep the Mithras for you. I hope to see you back here very soon.”
He waves at me as I step into a shadow by the stairs . . .
. . . AND COME OUT in the shadowed and semidiscreet entrance of the Museum of Death across from the hotel. It’s technically getting toward evening, but only technically. The sun won’t go down for another three hours and I’m very tired.
e. r="#000When I step out into the sun, the desert heat slaps me hard. It’s funny. I’ve lived here most of my life, so I hardly ever notice the heat. Maybe I’m feeling it now because I’m coming out of Muninn’s cool cavern. Maybe I’m noticing it the way someone with terminal cancer notices every leaf, every snatch of a song, every breeze from a passing car, and the color of smog over the hills as they wheel him to the hospice.
When I get back to the room, Candy has pushed and kicked most of the broken furniture to one side, leaving a minimalist scattering of chairs and lamps filling the cleared space.
“You got it real homey in here. Like a twister came through, not a full-on hurricane.”
She uses the toe of her sneaker to push a couple of legs from a broken table under the pile of debris.
“I wanted to make a good impression on the hotel so they could admire all the stuff we didn’t break.”
She’s looking at the junk and not at me.
“There’s no reason you have to leave. You heard what Mason said. However this thing turns out it can’t last more than three days.”
She looks at me over her shoulder, kicking splinters and broken glass into the pile.
“You want me to just hang around here like you’ve gone out for cigarettes?”
“I’m coming back,” I say.
She turns and faces me, arms folded and staring at her feet.
“Are you? You’re not going to find something more important to do? Save the whales in Narnia or start a Hellion homeless shelter?”
“If you think I’m going to get back with Alice, you’re wrong. I’m going back to save her. Those are two different things.”
“Easy to say standing here when you can’t see her and aren’t all dewy-eyed. She’s the love of your life and I’m just some girl with fangs you like to fuck.”
I hate shit like this. This is when I want to be Downtown and stay there. This is what regular people call real life and I can’t stand it. Give me a thousand Hellion throats to cut. It’s better than this.
I say, “It’s not like that and you know it.”
There’s a long pause.
“I want to think that.”
“So do it. This is what it’s like being around me. I don’t get a lot of downeft lot oftime.”
I go over to her. She’s still staring at her feet. Her arms are still crossed, but she doesn’t move away. I rest my hands on her shoulders.
“Ever since I got back, people having been getting bloody because of me. Parker almost killed Allegra and Vidocq. A Drifter took a bite out of Brigitte. Doc Kinski is dead. Alice was dragged off to Hell. Now it’s this Hunter kid and you.”
She unfolds her arms and lets them drop to her sides.
I say, “I can’t fix what’s already happened, but I can goddamn well kill it at the source, and that’s what I’m going to do. I’m not doing this for Alice or you or Doc or anyone else. I’m doing this for me because I’m tired of waiting to see what kind of heinous shit Mason dreams up next and who it’s going to take down.”
I move a hand up behind her head, feeling her shaggy Joan Jett hair.
“Don’t stick around if you don’t want to. Hell, I never even bought you the breakfast I promised. It’d be great if you’re here when I get back, but I won’t blame you if you’re not. I don’t know if I’d stick around this half-assed horse opera. So if I don’t see you again, thanks for playing monster with me for a while. It felt good.”
I turn and head for the door, but stop before I get it open. I don’t turn around.