you are such an asshole.”
I squint at her through the dark. Something about the voice …
“Cherry Moon?”
She glances around and steps into the camper. Still wrapped in the ragged fur coat, she drops onto her knees and slithers over me like a shaggy snake.
“Seeing as how we’re both dead, can we finally fuck?” she says. “Right here. In front of the preacher.”
I push her off me.
“Thanks, but I’m busy bleeding right now.”
She glances back at the stab wound in my leg.
“I’ve seen you with worse. Now get that ass in the air and call me Mommy. And don’t pretend you’re not a bottom. I knew it the first time I met you.”
She climbs back on top of me, jamming her stupid knee into my knife wound. I reach up to push her off and she slides my hands over her breasts. She’s laughing when I notice Traven’s head looming over us in the dark. He looks confused.
“Wait,” he says. “You know the oracle?”
“She’s no oracle,” I say. “She’s Cherry Moon. A lunatic from my dim, dark past.”
Cherry was part of the magic circle I was in when Mason Faim sent me Downtown. She used the hoodoo he gave her to turn herself into an underage Lolita manga fuck doll. And alive or dead, she’s been screwing with me ever since.
Traven stares at Cherry grinding away on my crotch. He looks like the most puzzled holy man since Jesus saw Judas order fajitas at the Last Supper.
“No. She is the oracle,” he says.
“Oh, all right,” says Cherry. “Everybody get their pants off. You too, choirboy.”
She pinches Traven’s cheek.
“Me love you long time.”
I finally shove her off me. Cherry slams into the wall, shaking the camper. She’s still laughing.
“If the house is rocking, don’t bother knocking!”
I sit up and check my leg wound. It’s deep, but not too wide, like the knife went straight in. It’ll heal in no time.
“Stark, what is going on here?” says Traven, then corrects himself. “Pitts.”
“Don’t bother, Father,” I say. “Cherry knows me. She’s known it was me this whole time. What I don’t get is why she didn’t give me away.”
Cherry sits up, takes her time adjusting her miniskirt and coat. I pull the camper door closed.
“ZaSu Pitts. That’s the best you could come up with?” she says. “And why the funny name at all? Every asshole in Hell is afraid of Sandman Slim. Don’t you want that? Fuck, you could probably kick the Magistrate out and take over. We could ride the havoc all over Hell. One big party till the end of time.”
Traven looks at Cherry.
“You’re not a real oracle?” he says.
Cherry rolls her eyes and shoves one of her high heels into my leg. Like all my dealings with her, it hurts.
“You have any smokes left?”
I find my coat and give her a Malediction. She sparks it with a gold lighter in the shape of a Crucifix. Cherry looks at me, then turns her eyes to Traven.
“Did prickless here tell you that he killed me?”
Traven starts to say something and I cut him off.
“I didn’t kill her. I just didn’t get to her in time to save her. Mason’s attack dog—a guy named Parker—killed her.”
“Details, details,” says Cherry. “I’m still dead and it’s still your fault.”
“I’m sorry. If you were any less annoying, I’d be even more sorry.”
She looks at Traven.
“See? He admits it’s his fault. And I just saved his worthless ass. Doesn’t he owe me one quick fuck for that, Father?”
Traven takes a breath. This madness is way above his pay grade.
“So, you’re not a real oracle? Does the Magistrate know?”
She swats away the question.
“No. I’m a real oracle. I learned the whole seeing thing from a Hellion street swami. He did it for cash back in Pandemonium, but after everything went to shit because of this one.”
She digs her heel into me again.
“The swami took off and left me high and dry. Of course, I’d already learned the tricks by then … and helped myself to enough of his toys to set myself up when some bleeding hearts gave me a ride out of the city.”
“Where did you meet the havoc?” says Traven.
“We left Hell altogether and lit out for the Tenebrae. I’d spent some time here, so I knew my way around.”
“But you didn’t count on the Magistrate showing up,” I say.
She sighs and puffs the Malediction.
“Everyone who didn’t join up … well, the pope there can tell you all about it.”
I nod to the oxygen tank.
“What’s with the wheezing gaff?”
Cherry puts the respirator over her mouth and makes a silly face at me. She lowers it and says, “I’ve been a few places and done a few things since the last time we saw each other, Jimbo. I couldn’t take a chance on anyone recognizing me.”
“That doesn’t explain why you didn’t rat me out to the Magistrate today.”
She frowns.
“I’d never do that, ZaSu. The world—even this one—is a lot more fun with you in it.” She taps her ash onto Traven’s floor. “Besides, if things go belly up here, maybe Sandman fucking Slim can step up and actually save me this time.”
She blows smoke at me. I wave it away.
“As much of a pain in the ass as you are, you know I would.”
She points at me, but looks at Traven.
“Is he all right? What’s with the Boy Scout act?”
“We’ve been talking,” says Traven. “He’s trying to be a better person and deal with some of his mental issues.”
Cherry stares at me, a little horrified.
“He’s nothing but
