Overhead, there’s the whup-whup of helicopter blades and a floodlight hits us from above. At the far end of the reservoir, two vans are parked side by side, blocking the road. I turn off the headlights and look at Lucifer.
“I hope that’s not your favorite suit.”
“Why?”
I floor it and crank the wheel right, fishtailing the limo up over the curb and across the grass. While we’re still under the trees, I push open my door, grab Lucifer, and roll left. We hit the ground hard, but not as hard as the limo when it hits the water. The hood snaps back and smashes through the windshield. It only takes a few seconds for the car to disappear into an oily froth of bubbles. The helicopter hovers over the crash, its bright belly light turning the scene into a Vegas floor show.
By then, Lucifer and I are hunkered down behind the cars on the opposite side of the street. While the vans and chopper concentrate on the spot where the car went into the resevoir, we head down a side street into a residential area. I must have pulled a muscle or something when we rolled out of the car. My side is cramped and burning.
Down a block or so, I spot an old Jeep Wrangler in a weekend warrior’s driveway. I get it open with the knife, but don’t start the engine. Just pop it into neutral and Lucifer and I push it into the street. Then we hop in and coast. It’s slow going with no engine and no headlights. I don’t see any better in the dark than you do, and my Batman night-vision scope must have gotten lost in the mail, so we pretty much crawl down the hill.
When we hit Fountain, I start the engine and steer us onto Sunset Boulevard, where we’re immediately lost in the city’s bumper-to-bumper nightlife wonderland. I’ve never been so happy to get stuck in traffic among a million other assholes in my life. I glance at Lucifer to see how he’s doing. He’s frowning and fingering a spot on his jacket cuff where he lost a button.
BACK TO THE Chateau it’s no big surprise when we find that Amanda and her coven pals took off a few minutes after we left and there was never any trouble there.
We take the elevator up to Lucifer’s floor, get out, and squeeze through the Alice in Wonderland clock. My neck and left side where I landed after jumping from the car is numb except for spasms of pins and needles. My right side is burning and leaking red all over my nice suit. I want a drink and a real cigarette.
I start to sit down and Lucifer says, “Don’t get blood on my couch.”
“It’s not your couch.”
I sit.
There’s a black hotel phone on almost every flat surface in the room. Lucifer sits across from me and picks up the one on the coffee table between us.
“Desk? Would you ring Dr. Allwissend’s room and tell him to come to my suite immediately? Thank you.”
“If you’re doing that for my benefit, don’t bother. I’ve got my own doctor.”
“Do you mean the little girl or the missing old man?”
“Sounds like Kasabian’s been earning his keep.”
“He told me about the girl. As for Kinski, it’s part of my job description to keep track of all of Heaven’s rejects. You never know when you might need an archangel.”
“Maybe you can hire him for a party like those idiots tonight. He can turn your guests into pillars of salt.”
Lucifer takes off his jacket and tosses it onto a chair. Gets a cut-crystal bottle from the end of the table, fills two glasses, and slides one in front of me. When I reach for it, I can feel the wet spreading from my stomach down to the tops of my legs.
“Does it hurt?”
“Is this Aqua Regia?”
“Yes.”
“Then it won’t hurt for long.”
“Was it a bullet or the jump from the car that did that?”
“A lucky shot from the rifle, I think. I’d still be on my back if it was the shotgun. It’s not too bad. He hit my side, so the shot went through and through. No bullets inside me this time. But I seem to be losing a lot of blood.”
“The doctor will be here soon.”
“I want to call Kinski.”
“Be my guest.”
Both of my hands are covered in blood. Not helpful when you’re trying to dial the tiny keypad on a cell phone.