“When you hear me stomp on the roof, hit the brakes. Don’t worry about me.”
He nods.
I pop the sunroof and crawl out on top. The cheap plastic hinges snap and the sunroof flies off the car and into the street behind us. Cairo opens his arms in greeting. I give him the finger.
He’s fast. He crouches and throws a shower of fire my way underhanded, like a softball pitcher.
I drop back halfway down into the sunroof and the fire passes over me.
“Shoot,” I say to Candy. She does, whooping like she’s at the rodeo. Glass explodes out of the Charger’s side windows.
I toss some arena hoodoo Cairo’s way. It’s an old crushing hex. Supposed to break an enemy’s bones. Cairo dodges the hex but I didn’t throw it at him. I hit the car’s engine.
There’s a horrible grinding and snap as the Charger’s engine drops and hits the street, gouging deep ruts in the road. Cairo flies off the roof, bounces off the hood, and falls in front of the Charger. I stomp my boot and Traven stops the Geo. I jump off the back, throwing protection hoodoo around me as I hit and roll. Cairo lands on the street in front of his car. From where I’m lying, I’m at just the right angle to see the Charger roll right over him.
Candy blows the rest of her clip into the side of Cairo’s car. His boys duck out the passenger side and take off down a side street.
Traven backs up. I climb into the car.
“Turn us around. I’ll hurt Teddy later. We’re going to Blackburn’s.”
Candy blows across the tip of her gun barrel like a cowgirl, leans between the seats, and gives me a kiss. She uses her thumb to wipe lip gloss off my lips.
“Why Blackburn’s?” she asks.
“Cairo was using hoodoo in the open right in front of God and Joe SixPack. Either he’s nuts or they’re not after Saint James anymore but me instead. Permission could only come from Blackburn or Aelita and I know where Blackburn is.”
We drive past Cairo’s car. The engine steams and spits. Spills gas all over the street. There’s blood on the bumper and a long wet streak on the asphalt like something was dragged but Cairo’s body is gone.
I give Traven Blackburn’s address and we head over.
“I hate to point out something to you,” he says.
“If it isn’t ‘Great job. I’m thrilled to be on your side,’ I don’t want to hear it.”
“We’re on a major thoroughfare. Half the streets we just passed had traffic cameras. Tomorrow LAPD will have the entire fight on tape.”
Shit.
“No worries, Father. With the street fucked up, the cameras are probably out and half the police force will be hunkered down at home. By the time someone looks over the tapes, we’ll either be dead or heroes.”
“Or dead heroes,” says Candy.
Traven thinks for a long minute.
“At times of crisis, my mother used to recite an old Hungarian saying. ‘The strength of the serpent and the peace of the dove.’ ”
“I don’t know the last time I saw a dove,” Candy says.
“Then let’s do some slithering.”
Traven parks across the street from Blackburn’s abandoned hotel mansion.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going inside to talk to people and hurt them. Not necessarily in that order. You two are going to stay out here and watch my back.”
“I want to come with you,” says Candy.
“You can’t. I have to get through layers of heavy protective hoodoo. I don’t know if I can take anyone with me and this isn’t a great time to start experimenting.”