leaves, I look over at Vidocq, but he won’t look at me.
Quietly he says, “You and your cowboy bullshit. There’s no excuse for what you did today. It was too public and too reckless. You could have been killed. You could have killed others.”
I sit down on the arm of the easy chair. “Right. It’s all my fault because Parker was being so careful not to hurt civilians.”
“You should never have gone after him, Mason, or the others like this.”
“If I didn’t, which one of you was going to? You were a detective once. Why didn’t you track Mason down?”
Vidocq shakes his head, turns away, ands flips pages in the book that Allegra had been holding when I came in. “I tried for a while, but I saw things. I heard things. Don’t ask me what.”
“You people have had eleven years to deal with Mason and, as far as I can tell, you haven’t done a goddamn thing. You think he grabbed all that magical power so he can retire? You should be on my side, trying to snuff him.”
“People were here earlier. Representatives from the Sub Rosa.” Vidocq finally looks at me. “They came to me because they know that you and I are close.”
“Are we still? I can’t tell lately.”
“They’re done with you over that debacle. There were so many people. So many security cameras in the stores and on the street. Tourists with more cameras. There’s only so much they can do to cover it up.”
“They have a story yet?”
“A publicity stunt for a movie. Equipment malfunctioned. There are many Sub Rosa in the film industry. They’ll pay any fines and lawsuits this time. But they won’t next time.” Vidocq makes a face like he can smell two-week-old garbage from the apartment next door. “In this matter, no one is on your side.”
“Are they going to kick me out of the magic union? Take away my 401?”
“This isn’t a joke.” Vidocq slams the book closed. “These are powerful people. Medea Bava was here. She left this for you.” He hands me a small white linen bundle tied with horsehair. Crow feathers inside. And wolf teeth spotted with blood.
“An Inquisitor? That’s a fairy tale. They don’t exist.”
“That lady sure existed,” says Allegra. “Her face was more messed up than yours.”
Vidocq says, “These people can hurt you.”
“Let them try.” I get up and go to the door. “Tell those Sub Rosa and their meter maids that they have three choices if they want me out of L.A. They can help me. They can stay out of my way. Or they can kill me.”
Out in the hall a guy with two overflowing bags of groceries stops dead in his tracks, his key halfway to his door lock. With Vidocq’s apartment being invisible to civilians, it must have looked like I appeared out of thin air.
“Oh. Hello,” says the guy.
“Good-bye,” I say, and disappear through a shadow right in front of him.
CARLOS HANDS ME a plate of rice, beans, and enchiladas in a thick mole sauce. I tear right into them. I’m starving after the fight, and Carlos’s food is so good I want to marry it.
“You been doing your ninja thing again?” Carlos asks.
“What makes you say that?”
“One side of your face and your hands are all red, like a burn.”
I look at my hands. They’re scraped and raw-looking, like I’ve been juggling cinder blocks. “No big deal. They’ll be fine by morning.”
“I have aloe in the back if you want some.”
I shake my head. “Thanks anyway. Another scar or two isn’t going to ruin my pretty face.”
“Right.”
“Carlos, are you being polite? That’s not what I come here for. I know I’m not Steve McQueen.”
“My lady is totally in love with him. Lucky for me he’s dead or I’d be in trouble.”
I hold up my glass of Jack Daniel’s in a toast. “Here’s to all the guys better looking than us. May they all die first.” Carlos picks up his glass, clinks mine, and we drink.
For the first time since I’ve had it, my cell phone rings. I don’t even know what it is at first. It feels like a rat is having a nervous breakdown in the pocket of my hoodie. When I get it out, it takes me a second to remember which button to push to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Jimmy?”
“Who is this?”
“It’s me. Cherry. I heard you were at the store. I didn’t believe her.”
“So, you called someone you didn’t think was alive?”
“I called because if you were alive, I need your help.”
I don’t answer for a minute. I eat a forkful of enchilada.
“Jimmy?”
“Don’t call me that. I don’t like it.”
“What should I call you?”
“The guy you helped send to Hell for eleven years of torture.” I get up and walk over by the jukebox, speaking quietly. “The guy who is seriously thinking about redecorating the inside of that store of yours with your guts.”
Now it’s her turn to not talk.
“I know you must hate it.”
“Hate doesn’t come close to it.”
“I heard about your fight with Parker.”
“Everyone has, apparently.”
“Did you know Jayne-Anne is dead?”
“When?”
“Last night. Parker did it. At least, that’s what I heard.”
“That’s why you need my help. I go after Jayne and Parker kills her because she probably has information that could lead to Mason. TJ and Kasabian are already out of the picture. That just leaves you.”
“Will you help me?”
“Give me a reason.”
“I know where Mason is.”
I walk back to the bar and away from the music. I don’t want to miss any of this. “I don’t believe you.”
“The reason no one can find him is that he isn’t in this reality. He’s somewhere else. But I guess that if you got back here from Hell, you can find a way
