Allegra crosses her arms tighter against her chest.
“What about being Lucifer?”
“You think he’s all about mustache-twirling evil and temptation? Here’s the truth. He’s mostly a pencil pusher. You think Hell runs on its own? Being Lucifer is more like the universe’s shittiest middle-management job. I spent most of my time in meetings with assholes or hiding from meetings with assholes.”
“Lucifer takes people’s souls.”
I take a drag off the Malediction.
“Most people heading for Hell don’t need his help. Most of the rest are idiots who sold their souls for fame, money, whatever. Anyway, the first Lucifer gave it all up. He’s back in Heaven these days. In the loving arms of your precious Lord.”
“That means there’s another Lucifer, right? What’s he like?”
“He’s nicer than me or Samael. But he’s screwed up. I wasn’t any good at the Devil business and he’s probably only marginally better. But he’ll try harder to make Hell a better place for everyone stuck down there.”
“Who is he?”
I shake my head. Blow out some smoke.
“I can’t tell you that. It’s too complicated. But I’ll tell you this: right now the Devil isn’t the problem. It’s God. He’s not exactly growing old gracefully.”
She looks down the street like she’s trying to get her bearings, then back at me.
“It’s so strange to talk about the universe like Hell is just another little town over the hill. And the good people aren’t that good and the bad ones aren’t that bad.”
“I didn’t say that. Hell is a bad place full of backstabbing monsters that’d kill you as soon as blink. But some monsters are honorable. More honorable than some Heavenly halo jockeys.”
“What you’re saying isn’t anything that I was taught or ever dreamed of.”
“That’s how it is. In the big scheme of things we barely matter. The Devil doesn’t hate us. Neither does God, but in the end we’re just bugs on his windshield. The universe didn’t turn out the way he wanted and now he’s hanging on by his fingernails just like the rest of us.”
She opens her mouth like she’s going to say something, and closes it. I flick the butt of the Malediction into the alley.
“I’m sorry about getting so mad before,” she says. “It’s hard to take it all in.”
“Forget it. This shit is hard for anyone to understand. I don’t want to.”
“This thing you’re looking for . . .”
“The Qomrama Om Ya.”
“It’s supposed to save the world from whatever’s coming?”
“If we’re lucky.”
“So you’re back to being the guy who saved the world and killed all the zombies.”
“I never stopped being him. But mostly I’m just trying to keep all my stuff from getting blown up. Can you imagine the universe without The Searchers? I can’t.”
She stands away from the wall. Brushes dust off her sleeve.
“You’re going to need help.”
“Probably.”
“Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“I’ll help.”
“Thanks.”
What do you know? People can surprise you after all. I wonder if she’s been talking to Candy behind my back. Whatever it took, it will be nice not to feel like we’re enemies anymore. But there’s something else. Something she’s not saying. She’s tenser than before. She rubs a knuckle against her lower lip.
“I have something else I have to ask you.”
“What?”
“It’s awkward. You’re going to think I invited you here and I said I’d help just because I want something.”
“That depends on what you want.”
I tap out another cigarette and light it, waiting for her to collect her thoughts.
“Remember when we first met back at Max Overdrive? I said I wasn’t always a nice person. I had this boyfriend. He was a dealer, and when he went to jail I used his money to go to school because I didn’t want to be in that life anymore.”
“And now he’s getting out.”
She nods.
“He called me.”
She holds out two fingers to ask for my cigarette. I give it to her. I didn’t know she still smoked. She takes a tiny puff and about coughs her lungs up.
“He wants his money?”
“No. Yes. But he wants me too. Only, I love my life. I love Eugène. I can’t go back to the way things were.”
“Where is he?”
“Vacaville. He’s getting out at the end of the week. He knows my old apartment.”
“You still have that place? I thought you’d moved in with Vidocq.”
“I keep things there and we store some of his stuff.”
“The boyfriend knows the address?”
I lean against the wall and she leans next to me. We’re shoulder to shoulder, but not having to look at me makes it easier for her to talk.
“Yes. I don’t even bother locking it. Locks never stopped him before.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
She puts a hand on my arm.
“Please don’t kill him. I want him to go away, but I don’t want to feel like I bought a hit on him just so I can hide in my nice new life.”
“I’ll do my best, but some people, they just don’t listen.”
“Please.”
She sounds genuinely torn up asking me. What am I supposed to say to that?
“Okay.”
She turns and hugs me. Talking about Hell and now the admission. It’s been hard on her. I think she’s crying. She sniffles a little.
“Don’t wipe your nose on my coat.”
She laughs once.
“Eugène said you would say yes, but I wasn’t sure.”
A cream-colored Lexus has driven past us twice. Now it stops. The guy who gets out has a haircut that costs as much as an appendectomy. He’s wearing rimless glasses and a sharp but conservative blue suit. He could be an investment banker.
“Mr. Stark. Would you mind taking a ride with me?”
Allegra steps away. I shake my head.
“I’m with a friend.”
He gestures at her.
“She can come too, if you like.”
“Nice car, but we’re fine right here. I’d invite you in for a drink, but I don’t think this is your kind of place.”
The Banker smiles and comes around to our side of the car.
“This isn’t anything sinister. It’s just a meeting to talk about possible employment.”
“With who?”
“Norris Quay.”
“Who’s that?”
“The richest man in California.”
“Never heard of him.”
“Exactly.”
I turn to Allegra.
“Do you want to get in the nice man’s car? He says he has candy and a puppy.”
She shakes her head.
“I don’t think so.”
I shrug.
“You heard the lady. Not interested.”
He takes a couple of steps toward us.
“I assure you, this is for your own benefit. Afterward, if you decide you don’t want the job, you can just—”
A bullet hits the wall, then two more. I push Allegra into the alley. The Banker crouches by his car and starts duckwalking around the front.
The shots come faster. Maybe three or four guns. AKs by the sounds of them. Wild shots spray cars and the wall behind me, sending other smokers screaming back inside the bar.
I’m kneeling on the sidewalk. I try to make it into the alley, but there’s too many bullets flying. Same thing when I try to make it back into Bamboo House. The Banker is back inside the Lexus. He opens the passenger door. There’s nowhere else to go. I dive headfirst into the passenger seat.
I wait a beat, expecting the Banker to get us out of there. But he’s paralyzed, staring at the shooters in his rearview mirror. They’re aiming at the car now. Bullets tear through the trunk and rear window. I duck and grab the wheel, stomping the accelerator. I hope no one is in the street because I can’t see a damned thing.
Half a block on, the shooting stops. I hit the brake and the Banker and I bounce off the inside of the car.