out holding Allegra by the arm. She holds her hands up in front of her face like she’s afraid he might hit her.
“Is that your new bitch here? Alice two-point-oh? She’s about as pretty as the first Alice.”
He pulls the tape off Allegra’s mouth. Grabs her by the hair and gives her a peck on the lips. Still holding her, he turns back to me.
“You’re the definition of a loser, Stark. You know what a loser is? Someone who can’t keep his women alive.” He winks at Allegra. “Know what I mean, sweetheart?”
When Parker leans in for another kiss, Allegra puffs out a stream of air across her fingers. Flames burst from her fingertips, right into Parker’s eyes. He screams and falls to the floor.
I yell “Get out!” to Allegra and she steps back into the bathroom.
Still blind, Parker screams hexes that shoot around the room, blasting holes in the walls and roof. He pulls a pistol from under his jacket and shoots wildly in all directions. I keep my head down until he’s about an arm’s length away. Then I reach into the shadow under the bed and pull out the sawed-off. Press it against his forehead and give him both barrels.
One minute Parker has a head and the next minute he doesn’t.
I hope Kasabian makes you into his ponyboy in Hell.
Allegra helps me up, then goes into the bathroom and unties Vidocq. When he’s on his feet, he comes over and grabs me like only a two-hundred-year-old Frenchman can.
“It’s good to see you, boy,” he says. Allegra is saying, “Thank you.” I’m calculating the odds that the motel manager or a scared john has called the cops. No reason to wait and find out. I grab both of them and half walk, half fall into a shadow by the door, pulling them with me.
We come out in the hallway by Vidocq’s place. The door is closed and yellow-and-black crime-scene tape is tacked up over the entrance. Allegra tears it down and opens the door. Vidocq helps me to the sofa, where I collapse. He drops to his knees and rummages in the potions and elixirs scattered across the floor. Comes up with a cracked blue bottle, goes back out to the hall, and runs a line of liquid all the way around the door frame. There’s the faint aetheric glow of the glamour as it turns the door back into a blank wall.
Allegra comes back from the kitchen with a cold cloth. I lie back and she drapes it over my forehead. I run a body check, like I used to do after a night in the arena. Flex, move, feel, and evaluate each part of my body, starting with the feet and moving up. Feet and legs work. Knees bend (one is still a little stiff). Gut and ribs are about the same. Arms, neck, and skull intact. Hands and fingers flex. I’m all right. I’m just having a hard time getting my breath after Parker’s fireball love tap. I shrug off my coat, peel off the ruined body armor, and drop it on the floor.
Vidocq is on the floor again, clinking bottles together, looking for usable potions. He comes back to the sofa with a couple.
“These aren’t my first choices, but they will do. Drink this.”
“What is it?”
“Mustika Pearl. From Turkey. You’ll feel stronger and heal faster.”
“Christ. It tastes like boiled goddamn roadkill.”
“Have some of this—now. You’ll feel very good and it will help wash away the taste of the other.”
He’s right. The second one is warm and earthy, with a slightly bitter edge.
“That’s nice. What is it?”
“Vin Mariani. Red wine and cocaine.”
I don’t know if it’s the Vin or the Pearl, but within a few minutes, I feel sort of like myself again. A shaky, hot, glued-together version, but definitely me.
“Don’t tell anyone,” I say, “but every rotten thing that’s happened since I got back is my fault.”
“What does that mean?” asks Allegra.
“Wait. It gets better. I could have gone after Mason and the Kissi a long time ago. But I was flat-out chickenshit.”
Vidocq asks, “How is that possible? You didn’t even know about the Kissi until two days ago.”
“I knew about them. Not their name or what they were, but I knew there was something like them right in front of me. What did the Kissi want from me, the moment they knew I had it? The key. Mason would have told them about that. When I followed Kasabian into the Twilight, he told me that he’d been with Mason and Parker somewhere dark. Not empty, but filled with nothing. That’s why Mason and the Kissi want the key.”
“Because they’re in nothing?” asks Allegra.
“Because they want me in nothing. I’ve been through twelve doors in the Room of Thirteen Doors. I’ve never gone through the thirteenth. I’ve always been afraid of it. All the other doors are marked with a symbol. A sun. A crescent moon. A frozen lake. Only the thirteenth door is blank. There’s nothing on it. It’s the Door of Nothing. That’s where the Kissi and Mason will be. And I could have gone there anytime since Azazel gave me the key. Years ago. But I was too afraid of that blank door.”
“You’re going to go there now?” asks Vidocq.
“I should be there already.” I pull a wad of bills out of my pocket and hand them to Allegra. “There should be around a thousand dollars there. The rest of Muninn’s money is in an envelope under all the junk upstairs at Max Overdrive. If I don’t come back, it’s yours. If I do come back, I’ll need some of it back. The place needs a little fixing up.”
Their heart rates and breathing are all over the place. The stress is going to kill them quicker than Mason or the Kissi. They both want to say something. I make sure I have my knife and step through a shadow before either of them can get out a word.
THE THIRTEENTH DOOR looks older and more battered than the others. If the other doors are portals to different planes and places in the universe, the thirteenth is the entrance to a prison. Strange sounds leak through it. Growls. Vibrations. A faint stink of vinegar. What could be the wind or voices whispering. A slow but relentless scratching, like something is trying to dig its way out.
I throw the bolt and open the Door of Nothing.
The name is pretty damned apt. Some of the other doors, I still can’t figure out. What does the Door of Abandoned Melancholy mean? Not much. But the Door of Nothing is right on the money.
There’s nothing beyond on the door. Not darkness. Not emptiness. Nothing. It’s the total and absolute absence of everything. Especially light. I step inside and pull the door closed. Immediately I hear sounds all around me. Scurrying, secret sounds. Bugs under dry leaves. Something wet pulling itself through mud. Hungry things, chewing their claws and grinding their teeth. Things touch me in the nothing. They crawl on me and try to work their way under my clothes. I can’t move. I don’t know where to go. Then I remember the thing Mason left for me because he knew that sooner or later, I’d be standing here. I take out the lighter.
Let there be light.
The Zippo flares, looking like an oil-well fire in all that lightless empty space. A billion soft, pale, half-formed anti-angels limp back into
