it wherever it is. Hell, they might like it better down there. Maybe we should put the whole porn section in a big pile on the floor.”
“What?”
I forgot. The only things that are funny when you’re as buzzed as Billy Goat Beard are cartoon animals and seeing other people get hurt.
“Never mind. Just open the store and let me get dressed.”
“When is Mr. Kasabian coming back?”
I look at the kid. Does this doe-eyed weed monkey suspect something? Am I going to have to lobotomize this twerp?
“When he’s damn good and ready,” I say.
“Okay.” He walks away, like he’s already forgotten the whole conversation.
I throw the dead bolt when I close the door. Need to start locking the room up all the time. Too many weapons in here. Too much blood on the floor. Too much residual magic in the walls. All I need is for some stoned teenybopper to take a post-weed nap in Metatron’s Cube and wake up with his soul on a hook in some stalker’s trading booth in the souk.
I clean up in the bathroom. There’s a brownish-red ring around the drain. I need to get some bleach before all the blood I’ve been leaking into the sink stains it permanently. I wonder if Kasabian had any accident or maybe earthquake insurance. I saw official-looking papers in one box—I’ll have to track that down. It’d be nice for Allegra to be able to get the place fixed up when I’m gone and she takes over.
The overcoat is wadded in a ball at the end of the bed. It looks pretty rough. Praise Lucifer that my jeans are black. Blood’s not so obvious on them. I find a box with the last of the Max Overdrive T-shirts in my size and slip it on. The only thing I have to wear over the T-shirt that will hide a weapon is the half-burned motocross jacket. I’ll look a little crazy in it, but it’s still wearable. Because it’s such a wreck, I don’t have any regrets about tearing the lining open so I can slip the na’at inside. I’ll still pack Azazel’s knife for backup, but from now on, my primary weapons are the ones that will keep attackers the hell away from me. I didn’t crawl back to Earth just to go bankrupt buying new shirts.
It takes me a minute to find where I stashed Muninn’s money. I slipped it into the back of a Val Lewton box set that was blown against the far wall. I take a wad of bills from inside and toss the box on the bed.
With the overcoat tucked under my arm, I lock up the room and slip out the back without any of the dudes seeing me.
Aelita is waiting in the alley, standing there like the angel of death in librarian drag. I drop the coat and take a couple of steps into the alley so my back isn’t pinned to the wall.
I say, “You’re big on the Fortune magazine look. Know any decent dry cleaners around here?”
She shakes her head and shoots poison darts at me with her eyes. Or she wishes she could.
“The Vigil saw you last night. What you did with that man. You’re disgusting.”
“I’m an Abomination. What do you expect? If you clowns really did have me on your radar, you’d know I was just taking out the trash and that I didn’t kill Kasabian. He was killed by someone you should have dealt with a long time ago.”
“You followed the poor man into death and tormented him even there.”
“I talked to him. I gave him a job recommendation. I helped him more than you ever helped me.”
“I offered you help just yesterday. Help and redemption.”
“You helped me so much that I had to get glued back together again by Doc Kinski.”
“Don’t speak that name in front of me!” she shouts. “He’s the only creature alive more vile than you.”
“Thanks. You hating Kinski makes me feel a lot better about the guy. Maybe I’ll let him cut me open after all.”
“Why wait? I can do that for you right now.”
“Yeah, but when Kinski cuts me, he won’t have a hard-on while he’s doing it.”
“You dare speak to an angel of the Lord that way?”
“If I hurt your feelings, get God down here so I can tell Him to His face.”
“Maybe you are worse than Kinski.”
“You’re the most useless thing I’ve ever met. Even the worst Hellion has a purpose. What’s yours? You can’t keep a treaty from falling apart that might destroy the world. You don’t even go after Mason. Why is that?”
“Don’t you dare interrogate me. We’ve been looking for Mason for many years.”
“But that’s not the same as finding him, is it? I mean, the way no one seems to be dealing with the guy makes me wonder if there isn’t something else going on.”
“We are agents of Heaven and do its bidding.”
“And while you do, you let Parker roam around free, slaughtering people, hoping he’ll lead you back to the big boy. How many people has Parker killed in the last eleven years and you didn’t do anything about it?”
“You’re suddenly so concerned about death? People die around you every day and you barely seem to notice. What does that make you?”
“Fuck you, angel. Fuck you and all God’s little prison bitches. He slips you some cigarettes and a con job smile and you run off to do his dirty work for him. Go and scare some sinners. No one’s listening to you here.”
I can’t read an angel the way I can a human, but I can read a fighter’s body. Aelita shifts slightly, sliding one foot back a few millimeters at a time, letting her weight settle on her back leg.
“God can still save you, Abomination. He can’t change the vile thing you are, but through me he can save you from perdition.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather go to Hell.”
“So be it.”
Aelita must have been holding back yesterday. She manifests her flaming sword incredibly fast and shoots forward like a bullet. Thing is, I’m pretty fast, too. Especially when I know what an opponent is going to do. Before she charges me, I already have the na’at out, extended, and I’m sidestepping her. When she blasts forward at me, she also impales herself on one side of the na’at, like she’s run onto the cutting edge of a chain saw.
Aelita freezes for a second, stunned to find her angelic body sliced through. That gives me a chance to give the na’at a slight turn so that the barbs lock into her. She lets out a monstrous roar, something to rattle Heaven’s gates. Buildings shudder and car alarms go off. I can’t let go of the na’at to cover my ears. Her scream is like a vise crushing my skull.
She swings her sword at my head and tries to move forward, but she’s stuck on the na’at. I push a stud in the handle and step back, locking her in place while extending the na’at so her sword can’t reach me.
Aelita is strong. She lunges at me, but each time she moves she just drives the na’at’s razor edge deeper into her body. She stops moving and stands there bleeding. Turning pale. After a few minutes, her sword dims and flickers out. She refuses to fall. She won’t submit to an Abomination. If I didn’t hate her so much already, I’d probably like her.
Then she crumbles all at once. Like someone pulled the plug and shut her down. When she’s flat on her back, I turn the na’at to release the barbs, pull it from her chest, and retract it.
Slipping it back inside my jacket, I go over to have a look at her. Her eyes are open, and even though she’s looking up, I know she’s not looking at the sky. She’s looking a lot farther away than that. I wonder what she sees.
“You’ll suffer for this, Abomination. Do you know that? God sees everything