The Getaway God (Sandman Slim 6)

I say, “Hobaica told me he was waiting for me. How did he know I was following him?”

“You’re so fat he saw you coming a mile away,” says the Shonin.

“I saw that in your report. You’re certain he said that?” asks Wells.

“He saw me standing in a slaughterhouse with a knife to his throat. Yeah, the moment is pretty well imprinted in my brain,” I say.

“That’s bad. It means at least this one Angra cult is working with a psychic. And if one has a practicing psychic, it probably means they all do.”

“I have a slightly different theory.”

“What’s that?”

“You have a mole in the Vigil.”

Wells comes over to me.

“Are you trying to be offensive? This isn’t just a law enforcement organization. It’s a holy calling.”

“What this bunch did was a holy calling too. To them. You think you’re immune to bad influences in the ranks? Stop a moment and think who you’re talking to. I’m a bad influence on bad influences, but at least I’m up front about it. If an asshole like me has Vigil credentials, who else does?”

“I do not believe one word of this malarkey,” says Wells. He doesn’t say anything for a minute. “But it can’t hurt to get new security clearances on all the personnel.”

“I left my résumé in a hole in the ground in Yamagata four hundred years ago,” says the Shonin. “Happy hunting for that.”

Wells looks at me like he’s thinking of taking the ID back.

“Get out of here for now,” he says. “But keep your phone on. I might need you later. I want to sort this Saint Nick thing out fast.”

“What about the 8 Ball?” I say. “Shouldn’t the bag of bones be working on that instead of playing medical examiner?”

“Unlike some ­people, I can multitask,” says the Shonin. “So fuck you, round boy.”

“Please,” says Wells. “The profanity. You’re a holy man.”

“Your nephilim is right about himself. He’s a bad influence. Go home and infect your friends.”

“Don’t leave yet,” says Wells. “I need you to go and see Marshal Sola.”

“Julie Sola is back in the Vigil?”

“Marshal Sola is with us again. And she has some papers to go over with you.”

“What kind of papers?”

Wells smiles.

“Part one of your psych evaluation.”

“Excuse me?”

“Everybody goes through it. I did it. Marshal Sola—­”

“How about Aelita?”

That stops him cold.

He says, “You will go to Marshal Sola, do her paperwork, and pass the evaluation or you don’t get paid.”