“On the contrary,” the Magistrate says.
He reaches back into the cabinet and comes back with another bottle. He looks at it for a moment.
“We found two cases of this in the Legionnaires’ stores. I understand it is something you enjoy.”
He sets the bottle in front of me and I recognize the sigil on the wax immediately.
It’s Aqua Regia. Who did I tell I like the stuff? Fuck it. I’m too high to care right now.
“Yeah,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. “It is something I enjoy. I thought I was never going to see it again.”
“There’s plenty more where that came from. Of course, you will have to share the rest. But this bottle is for you. A token of thanks.”
“Thanks,” I say, and for once, Downtown, I actually mean it.
“What is that stuff?” says Daja.
“The greatest invention the Devil ever gave the damned. Aqua Regia.”
“What, some kind of wine or whiskey?”
“It’s Aqua Regia. It’s just itself. Want to try it?”
Her eyes narrow a little.
“You first.”
I pull the cork and pour a glass full. Give it a sniff. There it is. The heady bouquet of gasoline and hot pepper. I sip it and shudder a little. It burns just right going down.
“It’s that good?” says Daja.
“You tell me.”
I hand her the glass. She reaches for it, but then I pull it back for a second. I know I’m going to have to kill her someday, but I don’t exactly hate her.
“What the—”
“Go at it easy. Some people find it an acquired taste.”
“I don’t need drinking lessons from you.”
“I’m just saying.”
She grabs the drink, takes a gulp, and slams down the glass. Her face curdles like she
just swallowed battery acid, which isn’t that far from the truth.
“Good?” I say.
She nods and with a heroic effort manages to croak, “Great.”
I take the glass back and finish what’s left.
“I told you it was an acquired taste.”
Daja waves for me to give the glass back.
She chokes out, “I didn’t say I was done.”