“Then count me in.”
She blows me a kiss, pops the clutch, and burns rubber back onto Hollywood Boulevard.
KASABIAN IS GOING through online video catalogs when I get back. Death Rides a Horse is playing on the other monitor.
“Did you remember cigarettes?”
“We didn’t get to a store. I bummed one off one of the kids working the register.”
“Which one?”
“I have no idea. They all look alike to me.”
I set the DVDs on his table.
“Don’t say I never gave you nothing.”
He grabs them in his little metal legs.
“You are my goddamn hero, man.”
“One more thing off my bucket list.”
The DVDs have him in a good mood and I don’t want to spoil it yet. I’ll wait to tell him that Wells fired me and either I start knocking over gas stations or we set up shop in the Dumpster next to the hand.
“How was your date?”
“It wasn’t exactly a date. We talked to a guy who yammered like he was gangbanged by a thesaurus. It’s all a big act, but he’s had a lot of practice. I don’t think I ever met a human before who could stretch ‘pass the peas’ into a hundred and fifty syllables. I once killed a Hellion who talked like that just to shut him up.”
“When Brigitte dumps you, you might not want to include ‘kills people who use big words’ in your personal ad.”
“What makes you think Brigitte’s going to dump me?”
He cocks his head in my direction.
“Gee, I don’t know. She dates billionaires and you live in an attic over a video store. She wants to get into big-time movies and you can get her free beer and tacos. You’re a monster and she’s a person. I can e-mail you a spreadsheet if you want to see the other five hundred reasons.”
“She won’t dump me.”
“Why not?”
“She hasn’t told me her real name and I haven’t told her what the Room is.”
He takes a beer from the fridge under his table and cracks it open.
“So, you’re finally done mooning over Alice. About time.”
Kasabian’s beer flies across the room and hits the wall before I realize it was me who knocked it out of his hand.
“Do not ever fucking say her name. Not now, not ever, unless you want to go back in the closet. And while you’re playing spy, tell Lucifer not to pull that shit with me either. People are after him and all I have to do is step out for a sandwich and let it happen.”
Kasabian is staring at me, shit scared. A deer head in the headlights. He’s quiet for what seems like a full minute.
He says, “I’m sorry, man. I overstepped.”
I take the cigarette from where I’d stuck it behind my ear and light it. Take a couple of puffs. Kasabian is still staring at me. I go over and hold the filter end of the smoke out to him. He doesn’t move for a second and then takes a tentative puff.
“Thanks.”