Juliette says, “To see if the applicant is a true adventurer. But you already proved you’re up for an interesting time.”
Dan picks right up the moment she stops talking, like they’ve rehearsed the whole thing.
He says, “I take it you’re Sub Rosa?”
Surprised, I say, “Does that get me extra brownie points?”
“A few actually.”
“Still,” says Juliette. “Ambushing a dumb animal is one thing.”
Dan continues, “How are you when something intelligent can look you right in the eye?”
I don’t like where this is going.
“You want to thumb-wrestle?”
“Something like that, but not me.”
I look at Juliette.
She smiles and takes Dan’s arm.
“You should be so lucky.”
The Lodge members, when I look them over, are a dull bunch. Rich and poor. Fat and skinny. Some nervously not wanting to look me in the eye. Others staring daggers. There are a few buff gym rats in the group, but no one looks particularly dangerous. Besides, a lot of them still have casts and bandages from the freeway stunt.
I half-smile at Dan.
“You don’t mean Janet, and I could knock over most of this bunch with a well-aimed Twinkie.”
“Not any of them, either.”
“Look, unless you have a gorilla in the guest room I’m leaving.”
“In fact, we do. But not the guest room. Through there.”
There’s a metal door like a bank vault across the room. Whatever is behind it is set deep into the granite of the cliff the house stands on.
I glance at Janet and they nod eagerly at me.
Turning back to Dan and Juliette, I say, “Whatever you have planned, let’s get going. Don’t take this the wrong way, but for adrenaline junkies you’re kind of boring.”
Juliette ushers me to the vault door and purrs in my ear.
“I hope this will be more to your liking.”
Dan holds it open for me and slams it shut the moment I’m inside. The room is completely black.
His voice comes through an intercom.
“Remember. No tricks.”
“I’m not afraid of the dark, Danny.”
“Then let there be light.”
About a million watts of light floods the room, blinding me for a few seconds. There’s a mechanical click from somewhere and something smashes me against the wall. When I shove back I’m suddenly flying through the air before crashing across the room.
The fall makes my not-quite-healed tiger arm hurt, which doesn’t help my mood. But I can see now and what I get a look at makes me even madder.
The clowns don’t just have a trash wizard. They have their own private vampire down here. And she looks hungry. I mean, it’s not like vampires scare me. I’ve killed plenty and my blood is toxic to them, so I’m safe. It’s just such a rich-asshole L.A. thing to do to have your own pet vampire with video cameras around the room so they can watch me on pay-per-view.
I say, “This isn’t a nice way to treat a guest, Danny.”
The intercom says, “Finish up fast and we’ll have drinks after.”
Fuck these people. I’m going to rip this thing in half and then I’m going push this goddamn house off the cliff.
When the bloodsucker comes at me, I pivot and smash it with my elbow hard enough to knock its fangs to Argentina. Only, its teeth stay put and she gets her hands around my throat and shoves me up against the wall. I grab both of her wrists and drive my heel into her knee hard enough that the crack of bones echoes off the walls. But that doesn’t stop her for a second. A moment later, her knee has healed and she’s still choking me.
This isn’t how this was supposed to go. There’s something off about this vampire. I blame the trash wizard. He’s given her some Black Sun protective hoodoo that’s pumped up her strength and healing powers. Still, I’m not dead yet.
I keep my hands on her wrists and fall backward, bashing the vampire’s head into the rock wall. When I step away to catch my breath she hops right back up. Half of her forehead is crushed, but she’s hopping around fresh as a goddamn daisy.
There’s a rack of weapons on the far wall. The vampire grabs a mace on a chain and swings it at me. Each time she misses, she gouges big chunks of stone from the floor and wall. I look at the weapons rack but don’t see anything I like. I don’t know if it’s against the rules or not, and I don’t care. I reach into my coat and pull out the na’at.
I extend it into a spear with a razor cutting edge. The next time the vampire swings at me I thrust with the na’at, cutting the chain on her mace. The spiked ball bounces off into a corner, which leaves her with a wooden stick. No hesitation now. I shove the na’at straight into her chest and through her heart.
But the fucker doesn’t die.
She should be ashes by now, but she just stands there grinning at me. Mad, I make a dumb move. I thrust the na’at again, but the vampire sees it coming. She leaps high into the air and comes down with her knee right into my chest. I fall over backward with her on top of me. At this point I stop fighting. I should have used my best weapon right away, but I was annoyed and—I’ll admit it—wanted to put on a show for Janet. Now, though, I’m done.
I shove my arm right into the vampire’s face and let it bite me. Getting a mouthful of my blood for a vampire is like pouring acid down its throat. Sure, it hurts when her fangs go into my wrist, but it will be worth it to watch her burn.
Only instead of dying, she keeps sucking down more and more of my blood. This isn’t possible. What kind of hoodoo did Kenny use on this dead piece of meat? The trash wizard has more skills than I would have guessed. I have so much respect I might kill him when I’m finished with Vampirella.
I punch her in her dented forehead hard enough to stun her for a moment. While her eyes spin around, I get my feet under her and push, launching her into the air. But she comes to while she’s flying and lands flat on her feet. Without a moment’s hesitation, she grabs a billhook from the weapons rack and charges me. I wait for her.
And wait.
Until she’s just over an arm’s length away.
Then I manifest my Gladius and cut off her head.
Black Sun hoodoo or solid weapons skills, they don’t help now. Though when she drops the billhook she’s still strong enough to claw at the air where her head used to be. But only for a few seconds. Then she ashes out like so much dirt on the killing floor. I look up at the cameras that have been monitoring the fight.
“Open that door, Dan, or in about ten seconds I’m coming through and taking more heads.”
Bolts hiss and slide back and the door opens. Dan is there. He wags a finger at me.
“I’m not sure that flaming sword of yours is technically in the rulebook, but it is in the spirit of the fight, so I’m giving you a pass this time.”
I grab him by the collar and toss him at Kenny.
“Let that pass too.”
I let the Gladius go out and walk over to Janet. The crowd backs up.
They put their arms around me and say, “That was amazing, but please don’t hurt anyone else.”
“They better play nice.”
“They will.” She whispers in my ear, “I’m going to fuck your brains out tonight. You won’t be able to ride your bike until Christmas.”
I give them a squeeze, but I’m still too irritated to do anything more.
I go over to where Juliette is helping Dan.
“What did you do to that shroud eater in there? How did you protect it?”
“You’re not the only one with a bag of magic tricks,” says Juliette.
Dan continues, “We’ve used more than a few over the years.”
He turns to the room.
“Isn’t that right?”
People nod and laugh quietly. I don’t spot any Sub Rosa among the goon squad, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have some on retainer. And then there’s smug Kenny, the
trash wizard. The Lodge has any number of connections to the baleful magic world.
I’m sweating and twitchy for another fight.
“Do I have to break anything else around here? Because I could use a drink.”
“In a few minutes,” says Dan.
“After what you did at the zoo and now with poor, departed Caroline,” Juliette says, glancing back at the other room, “I think we can welcome you into the fold.”
“Congratulations. You’re a member of the Zero Lodge,” says Dan.
“Where there’s zero chance you’ll get out alive,” purrs Juliette.
There’s polite applause from the others. Manimal Mike gives me a big thumbs-up with his good hand.
Dan turns to the room.
“We’re planning a new excursion soon. A very challenging one.”
“What is it?” I say.
“You’ll see,” says Juliette. “But no tricks without permission.”
“They’re right,” says Janet. “Where’s the kick if you can just poof us out of danger any time you want?”
I wipe some vampire dust off my coat.
“Fine. No poofing.”
“Yay,” they say quietly.
It’s clear now that this bunch—and Dan and Juliette in particular—are into far weirder stuff than an armor-plated vampire and some danger games. But the fact they put such a powerful charm on the vampire is interesting. I’ll stick around for now to protect Janet. But I’m not sure how long I can stand the rest of these fools.
Janet shoulder-bumps me, all excited.
While Juliette pours drinks at the bar, Dan addresses the room.
“To celebrate Manimal Mike’s birthday, there’s going to be an excursion Monday. We’ll travel somewhere out of town and you’ll work in teams of two.”
Juliette hands me the drink and says, “Each team will get one canteen of water. That’s all I’ll say for the moment. Now, let’s have a drink to James Stark, our newest member.”
I raise up my glass and Juliette leads me around to glad-hand the rest of the dopes.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
Janet holds me tight and rests their head on my back as I drive them home. It’s a good feeling, but since we left the Lodge, my mind has drifted elsewhere.
When I let them off in front of their building, they take hold of my coat sleeve and say, “Come up, Mr. Stark?”
I have to frown.
“Can I take a rain check? There’s something important I need do.”
They let go of my sleeve and say, “Aww. You’re no fun. Fine. Go do your important thing. But tomorrow night. Me and you. Doing it ’til dawn. Understood?”
I can’t help but smile.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“You better be.”
That feeling of wanting to flee comes back. Guilt. What am I going to tell Candy?
Janet waves and goes inside while I gun the Hog and head for the movies.
The Devil’s Door drive-in is surrounded by a high black wall covered in flaming and horned dancing girls. There are eyes over the entrance and teeth around the edges so that when you enter, it’s like you’re driving right down the Devil’s gullet. Flicker owns the place.
I don’t know her real name and I don’t know anyone who knows. All anyone is sure of is that she’s Chinese and comes from heavy Sub Rosa money. She’s a geomancer—a land witch. All of her strength is concentrated in certain patches of ground. Power spots that only she and a few other magicians know about. The Devil’s Door sits right on top of her personal spot.
The guy selling tickets at the door waves me through and I head straight for Flicker’s office behind the concession stand. I like it back here. It’s a childhood movie memory. The sky overhead and everything smells vaguely of hot dogs.
I knock on the door and Flicker yells, “Come in.”
It’s dark inside. The only illumination comes from an old Philco Predicta TV. She’s watching The Tingler with someone or something else. I mean, it’s person shaped but completely black. No face or anything else. It’s like a kind of human void next to her on the battered red sofa.
I say, “You have a fifty-foot screen to watch movies on outside, but you’re in here with a twenty-inch black and white TV?”
“Twenty-one,” she says without ever taking her eyes off Vincent Price on the screen. “The set is from 1960. The movie is from ’59. They’re kind of made for each other, don’t you think?”
She finally looks at me, her eyebrows raised.
“I can’t argue with that,” I say. “Who’s your friend?”
Flicker glances at the void next to her.
“I don’t know. They just stop by sometimes to watch movies.”
“They don’t make you nervous?”
“Why should they? They bring their own popcorn. It’s no big deal.”
“I guess we’ve both hung out with worse.”
“Much.”
“And this is your patch. Who’s going to cause trouble here?”
“I seem to remember a certain almost-dead man and his friends starting a bonfire.”
“We had your permission for that.”
“True. I’d never seen anybody stroll in and out of a fire like that before.”
“Thanks again. I owe you for that and I won’t forget.”
She shrugs and eats some popcorn. “I know,” she says. “Besides, it was a pretty neat trick to watch. It gave me a few new ideas on how to use land.”
The movie ends. Vincent Price pays for his evil deeds and all is right with the world.
Flicker’s void friend gets up and stretches.
“Same time next week?” she says. The void nods and gives her a little bow. It bows to me and softens into kind of a liquid state and flows into the darkness behind the sofa.
“Neat trick.”
“I wish they would teach it to me,” she says. “I have a family reunion next week that I’m not looking forward to.”
“My condolences.”
“I’ll live. So, what brings you around tonight? I haven’t seen much of you recently.”
“I’ve been kind of hiding out.”
“Birth’s not easy on anyone and rebirth is worse.”
“Maybe it’s that. The whole world seems out of whack.”
“The movie outside is almost over. You should stick around for the next one. Blood for Dracula, the old Andy Warhol monster flick.”
I hold up a hand.
“Thanks, but I’ve had enough of vampires for one night.”
She picks up some cigarettes from the desk and we go outside to smoke.
I light her up, then my Malediction. She takes a big puff and blows a smoke ring.
“You’re not here for the movies and you look very much alive. What can I help you with?”
“It’s not for me. This time it’s for the whole city. Including you.”
“Go on.”
“There are some ghosts in town who won’t stay put. Ghosts with a violent streak. They’re trapped in Little Cairo right now, but the wards won’t keep them there forever. Even if you lock down the Devil’s Door, they’ll sure as hell get your customers. I don’t think you want to spend forever sitting here watching movies with your void pal.”
“That doesn’t sound fun at all.”
“Then you’ll check out the ghosts with me?”
“Of course. If the city locked down and I couldn’t get to Burrito King every now and then I’d go mad. When and where do you want to meet?”
“Sunset tomorrow. I’ll pick you up.”
“I’ll be here.”
The end of Flesh for Frankenstein is playing on the big screen. I watch for a while as Udo Kier chews the scenery just right as the doctor.
“I love that guy.”
Flicker blows another smoke ring.
She says, “He’s even better as Dracula. I’m telling you, you ought to stick around.”
“Some other night when you hav
e something soothing, like werewolves or zombies.”
“It’s James Whale’s birthday soon. We’re having a festival. Frankenstein. Bride of Frankenstein. The Old Dark House and some others.”
“I’ll be here.”
“Bring Candy.”
I hesitate.
“We’ll see.”
“Oooh. That sounds interesting.”
“I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.”
“Sunset. See you then.”
I head back home and write down what Gentry told me. I’ve got a date with a real estate agent tomorrow, only she doesn’t know it yet.
In the afternoon I meet with Avani Chanchala. At least that’s the name she goes by. I checked her out online but couldn’t find out much more than a business address. That means Chanchala might be her real name, but it might not. Real estate in Hollywood is just an extension of show business. Real estate isn’t just land, it’s dreams. Sell the image. Not the dirt. It’s liable to have a few bodies buried in it, but that possibility just makes it more charming and colorful—and expensive. People here change their names and appearance all the time, depending on the audience. Chanchala could be legit, but there’s every chance she’s really Susie Smith from Glendale.
The front door to Chanchala Abodes is locked, so I go in through a shadow. There’s a reception area but no secretary. It’s like they’re begging me to loot this place. I go to the big office and open the door.
“Knock knock.”
The office is nice but spare. It reminds me of pictures Candy showed me of Tokyo work spaces. All very pretty. Uncluttered. Lots of dark wood and light. But that kind of thing feels different in L.A. Less like an elegant Japanese aesthetic than someone ready to change with the times at a moment’s notice or just grab what little there is and head for the hills.
Chanchala is looking over some papers. She takes off her glasses and says, “Well, you’re certainly not Mr. Block.”
I sit on a cushy chair by her desk.
“A client?”
“My two o’clock.”
“Then I’ll get right to the point. I want to talk about Chris Stein.”
She cocks her head.
“And who are you again?”
“I work for Thomas Abbot. You know who that is?”
She sits back and looks uncomfortable.
Ballistic Kiss Page 14
