As she moves off, I check the Glock in my suit jacket. I don’t know why I do it. Nervous energy. The same energy that makes me check the black blade in a pocket I’ve torn in the other side of the jacket. If Rose doesn’t get here soon, I’m going to be even harder on him than I’d planned. It’s Saturday and I technically have until midnight to find and kill the faction’s board of directors. I know if I can find them, I can do it no matter how many guards they have or what hoodoo they’re using. But right now I’m sitting with the coffee jitters and they’re winning because every twitch I feel is another second off my life.
What if I fuck this up? What will it be like to rot? Will it hurt? Rotten meat smells bad, but if you’re the rotten meat can you smell yourself? How long will it take for me to fall apart? Will I decompose from the edges in? My fingers and toes coming off, and then my hands and feet? I bet I’ll be conscious for the whole thing. That’s how this stuff always works. The moment you want to be out of it, that’s the moment when you’re most alert. The worst part is that Sandoval and the others will get to watch it happen. I bet they’ll even chopper Roger in for a ringside seat. Rose better be here soon or I’m going to force-feed him every goddamn angel in his shop.
A few minutes later, Alyx comes back. She sets down a plate and a tall glass.
She says, “Here’s some orange juice and a grilled cheese sandwich. Citrus is good for the caffeine shakes. So is food. I see you keep looking out the window. Who are you waiting for?”
I take a sip of the juice. There’s no taste, but the pulp feels good going down.
“You see that store over there? Angelic Bazaar? I’m waiting for the guy who runs it.”
Alyx crosses her arms and frowns.
“Oh. Him. He comes in here sometimes. Kind of weird. Always orders a latte and three chocolate chip cookies. Then he puts about nine packets of sugar in his latte. And he never tips. Not once.”
I glance out the window.
“Some rich people are like that.”
“Are you going to bodyguard him?”
“Can you keep a secret?”
She leans in closer. “Not boring ones, so make yours good.”
“I’m going to do the opposite of bodyguarding.”
She straightens up again.
“I said it before, and don’t think I’m hitting on you— although I am—but that’s hot.”
“And it’s our secret, right?”
“Totally.”
“Even from Jason.”
“Aww.”
I look over at him slaving away at the steamed milk machine.
“You can tell him when I’m gone. By then, it won’t matter who knows.”
“It’s a deal.”
I push a twenty at her.
“And this time you have to take it. I’m not paying you. I’m bribing you to keep my secret.”
She picks it up and presses it to her chest.
“I feel so dirty.”
“Not as dirty as he’s going to feel.”
She gestures to my pocket.
“You looked at the back of my card?”