“I did that to a Hellion once. It peeled all the skin off my fingers and knuckles, and really hurt.”
Brigitte makes a “why bother teaching a retard to juggle?” face.
“Don’t be stupid. There are tools for it. I don’t have mine with me, but look here.”
She takes a broken slat from an orange crate and draws something on the ground. It’s like a spear, but with a kind of claw and long backward-facing barbs on one end, like a hand with the fingers pointing the wrong way.
“The Hellion weapon you use. A na’at? Can you shape it into something like that?”
“I’ve never tried, but probably. Give me a couple of minutes.”
“Don’t take long. Depending on their injuries, revenants will revive in five to ten minutes.”
She paces back and forth while I rework the na’at. The clicking of her boots echoes down the alley. She isn’t like the woman I was talking to in the bar. More like a tiger waiting to eat an antelope it took down.
“What kind of gun was that?” I ask.
“Compressed CO2, like at an amusement park. Mine is more powerful and fires sharpened silver-coated stainless-steel bolts.”
“Why silver?”
“It’s not necessary for revenants, but the silver allows you to also use them against verdilacs, beast men, and other undesirables.”
“You’ll have to let me try it sometime.”
“After you take me to your donut shop.”
“Are you really here to get into the movies?”
“Of course. I’ve wanted to come to Hollywood for a long time, but I was needed at home. My erotic career was going well. I made money and had ample time to do my family’s real work. Now, though, I’m needed here. It wasn’t hard to get Simon to invite me. I’m going to be in a big-budget Hollywood movie and still have time to do my other work. This is what you call a win-win, yes?”
“You think there’s more Drifters out there?”
“If there are three here, there are many more. How many is the question. We believe the numbers must be dealt with now before things become intolerable.”
“How do you know about all this?”
“My family has done this work for centuries. In the old world and the new. I’m Roma.”
“Gypsies.”
“My grandfather would shoot you for using that word.”
“I’ve been shot for less.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Let me make sure I have this straight. The cavalry just now rode into town and it’s a Czech Gypsy porn-star zombie killer. Have I got that right?”
She crosses her arms and looks at me like if we weren’t on a timetable she’d kick my ass.
“Forgive me. I didn’t think my life would seem so strange to Lucifer’s alcoholic cowboy assassin.”
“I wasn’t criticizing. I’m just trying to get everyone’s résumé straight. Last night you were a pretty girl at a party and tonight you’re Catwoman.”
She shrugs.
“Secrets quickly revealed often seem more profound than they really are.”