Mike shrugs and sits down behind the worktable. Picks up the bottle of vodka and takes a pull.
“I don’t know a lot about it.”
He starts to offer me the bottle but takes another look at the generic label stained with greasy fingerprints and changes his mind.
“All I know is it’s a bitch to get into. Like the most exclusive after-party in the universe. You have to know someone.”
“Sounds like a good place to hide from killers,” says Candy.
“Or the girl,” he says. “She’s killed like a dozen Sub Rosa. She tried to cut your angel. That’s when he disappeared. She’s scarier than anything else around here.”
He smiles at me hopefully.
“Except you, of course.”
“Don’t suck up, Mike. Not until you’ve had a shower. You say the ghost tried to kill Saint James?”
“If that’s the angel, then yeah. Went for him on Sunset in front of a whole tour bus full of witnesses. She got a piece of him too. The girl isn’t subtle.”
“Why would she be? She’s dead.”
I turn my back on Mike and whisper in Candy’s ear. Mike looks nervous. He takes big gulps from the bottle.
“I’ve heard of poltergeists that can toss cups and saucers around, but never one that hacks people up like Jason Voorhees. Have you?”
“No. I haven’t.”
“Remember when the girl came into Bamboo House?”
“Yeah.”
“I tried to grab her and missed. She could have cut me but she didn’t. She said something funny.”>“What did you do to me, you fucking freak? I’m fucking blind. Christ. For one second I let you get near me and this happens. Fuck!”
“Hey, don’t forget who got you that body.”
“And don’t forget who made me need it.”
“Quit whining and tell me what you see.”
“Nothing. You took my eye, you crazy motherfucker.”
“I just swapped it. If this doesn’t work you can have it back. Relax and tell me if you see anything.”
Kasabian sits rigid in his chair with his eyes closed, turning his head from side to side. He holds onto the seat with both hands. His legs pump nervously. Then they stop.
“Oh man.”
“What do you see?”
“All kinds of stuff. It’s like a bee’s eye. Like there’s a million little lenses and each one sees something different.”
“Good. I left peepers all over. That means you can see through a bunch of them. Try to zoom in on one and tell me what you see.”
“It’s like a jail. There’s cells and . . . No. Wait. It’s pens. It’s like a kennel. Oh shit, there are hellhounds.”
“How nice. A family reunion.”
“Shut up. I’m trying to concentrate. I’m in that library of yours. I can see all over inside. The big front doors are open a little and kind of burned. Like someone tried to slip you a hotfoot.”