“I’m on goddamn Wikipedia?”
“It’s a tiny entry full of notes saying that no one knows if any of what’s there is real. It’s very funny. You’d like it.”
“Read it to me sometime. I have a feeling it’ll sound better in Czech.”
“But none of this answers my question. What should I call you?”
Up ahead, Lucifer turns away from his admirers with his phone to his ear. From the look on his face, someone is going to get a Cadillac-size pitchfork up the ass.
“Call me James. Not Jimmy or Jim. Just James. What do I call you?”
“Brigitte is fine.”
“Ah. I thought we were confessing true names.”
“No. I just asked what to call you.”
Now that he’s not getting the royal treatment for a couple of seconds, Ritchie’s realized that Brigitte isn’t next to him. He looks around like a Titanic survivor hunting for a life vest.
“I think you’re about to be called back to the stage.”
Brigitte gives a little sigh.
“You’re lucky. Your patron doesn’t spend all his waking hours worrying that you might fuck someone else.”
“Not that he’s mentioned.”
She smiles and waves to get Ritchie’s attention.
“I have to go. It’s been lovely talking with you, Sandman. Pardon. James.”
“You too, Ms. Bardo.”
As she goes, she runs a finger lightly over the back of my hand.
I don’t usually think of porn girls as actresses, but Brigitte might be an exception. When she goes to Ritchie, she gives him a Pretty Woman smile like she thinks he’s the center of the world.
It looks like the center of Lucifer’s world has gone sour. He crooks his finger at me and we start out of the ballroom. No good-byes. No handshakes. Nothing. It must be nice to just start walking and know that everybody else will follow. Which is exactly what happens. Jan, Koralin, and Ritchie practically sprint after him. Ritchie is pulling Brigitte like a puppy on a leash. She laughs as they go. I push through the crowd, cut around a hairy Nahual beast man and a couple of Jades eating raw meat off a golem’s tray. Wolf Boy has hold of the golem’s arm so it can’t wander away.
I catch up with them just as everyone is saying good night. Lucifer shakes a last few hands, blows some air kisses, and we’re moving again.
“What’s going on?”
He looks at his phone one more time and stuffs it into his pocket.
“We’re going back to the hotel. Apparently Amanda and her coven never left and they’re not playing nice with the hotel staff who are too afraid to throw her out.”
“Whose followers are dumber, yours or God’s?”
“Mine are simpletons and his are self-righteous prigs. Take your pick.”
“I should have known that little shit would be here.”
Lucifer looks at me. I nod at a pretty young guy drinking and scowling at the edge of a group of other pretty young things. It’s Ziggy Stardust, the bad-mannered kid from Bamboo House of Dolls who thought I was a dolphin who’d do a trick for a fish.
“That’s Jan and Koralin’s son. Rainier I think is his name. An angry little bore and a ne’er-do-well.”
“Sounds like a typical Sub Rosa to me.”