“I’m not ready. I know a part of what’s going on but not enough. Until I do, I’m not killing the only thing that might be able to give me answers.”
“And what about us? What happens when she comes for us?”
“Has she ever attacked you personally?”
“No.”
“Then you’re safe.”
“How do you know?”
“ ’Cause ghosts like you aren’t on her hit list and it’ll be a while before you are. Long enough for you to wise up and move on.”
“How do you know?”
“Drop it.”
Cherry gets in my way.
“How do you know?”
“Because you’re not one of His, which means you’re one of mine. That means you’re definitely damned. And she’s not after the damned yet.”
Cherry takes a couple of steps back. Puts a hand over her mouth.
“You bastard.”
“You don’t have to wait around for her. Get out of here and save yourself.”
She leans against the ruins of the Chinatown arch, resting her ridiculous cartoon face in her hands.
“Go away, James. You let me down again. You’re no better than Parker.”
“Take care of yourself. Think about what I said.”
I head back to Tenebrae Station. The crowd follows me to the stairs but none of them follows me down.
“Any of you can leave too. You don’t have to live like this.”
I climb down into the tunnel and walk back into the dark.
And open my eyes, flat on my back in my room in the Chateau. Kasabian limps away from the circle with my shirt in his hand. There’s a smeared spot on the tile where he broke the bloody circle.
I sit up. There are clots of blood on my arms and in my hair. I stink from sweat. But there’s one nice surprise. The wound the Imp gave me is completely closed. There isn’t even a scar.
“I’m going to take a shower.”
“Best news I’ve heard all day,” he says. “Now here’s some for you. The rope and poison industries are way up in Hell. Suicide looks like the new thing with the cool kids. Those demonic sad sacks don’t need back into Heaven. They need a teddy bear, a warm glass of milk, and some Prozac.”
I take a hot shower and go back to the living room. Kasabian has the news on with the sound turned down. The shots are fast and jittery, like whoever has the camera is running.
“Do you know about the Mile High Club?”
He doesn’t look up from the big plate of fried shrimp he’s shoving into his face.
“Sure. Mason talked about them sometimes.”
I’m so out of the goddamn loop.