“No. There’s another one. In Florida, I think.”
“If you two want to go get a map, we can come back later,” I say.
“Shut up,” says the male. “You need to take a vacation. Stop everything you’re doing and go away. Right now. This goddamn minute.”
“I’m kind of booked up. How about Labor Day? We can all go to Hawaii together. Get a cabin on the beach and burn you two for firewood.”
The female is jumpy. She really doesn’t like not stabbing anyone. When I have to move, she’ll go first.
“That’s the wrong attitude. For you and her, but especially her. You don’t want her to end up in pieces like the Fiddler, do you?”
“I don’t know any fiddlers, but I’ve never been into blue-grass. Either of you ever listen to Skull Valley Sheep Kill? Now, that’s music.”
“He’s too stupid to get it. Cut her,” says the female.
I say, “No. Don’t. Don’t move at all. Stay exactly where you are.”
I’m a little surprised and extremely relieved when they do it.
“Put down your knives. Let go of her and move away.”
The Lacunas do that, too. I grab Allegra, pull her away, and push behind me.
“Throw your knives into the street.”
They toss them.
I turn to Allegra.
“Are you okay?”
She steps up beside me.
“Fine. Who are they? And why are they just standing there?”
“Take a deep breath. Smell that? They’re Lacunas, pitbull Drifters. And I think they’re standing there for the same reason that Johnny said he’d come with me tonight. Because of this.”
I take Eleanor’s belt buckle out of my pocket and show it to her.
“What is that?”
“I have no idea, but it’s honey to Drifters. They can’t get enough of it and it seems to have some control over them.”
“So, you didn’t know they’d listen to you when you started calling them names?”
“After Johnny said yes so fast, I had a hunch.”
“I’m pretty sure I hate you right now.”
“But you’re not positive. I can live with that.”
Allegra goes to the gutter and retrieves the Lacunas’ knives. She pockets the male’s, but holds the female’s, a black KA-BAR. She points the tip at the male.
“What did they mean I don’t want to end up like the Fiddler?”
“It’s a kind of hoodoo. Titus Eshu is a Fiddler and this maggot pile just told me that he’s dead. Titus was looking for some lady’s kid and he’s been murdered for it. That’s one more person fucked up by whatever this is.”
“How did they know where we’d be?”