“That doesn’t seem right.”
“They still had fantasies about me marrying a nice lawyer and having Ivy League babies. The inheritance was supposed to be my dowry. Fuck that.”
“Since you repaved, can you still do that trick with the parking spaces?”
Flicker is a land witch—a geomancer. All of her power 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.
She waggles her eyebrows.
“It’s easier than ever. The lines separating the parking spaces are held in place with spring bolts. I can pivot them into any hexagram I want. Stick around. Fulci’s Zombi is up next. I’ll show you after that.”
“Thanks. But I have a pretty big day tomorrow.”
“You and your necromancer?”
“Fingers crossed that he knows what he’s doing.”
“You’ll be fine. Second-raters don’t last too long in the Hills.”
“I hope you’re right.”
She turns to me, leaning on her shoulder.
“If you ever need to do any big rituals, just call. I can shape whatever you need in twenty minutes.”
“Thanks. You taking commercial clients too?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Cool. I’ll spread the word.”
“Just wait until you’re alive again.”
I look over at her. “What? You’ve got a problem with us Revenant-Americans?”
“Hey, some of my best friends are dead. But you look like you’re running a quart low.”
She touches my hands and head.
“Your aura is shit.”
“It feels that way, too. I like your zombie suit, by the way.”
She makes a face.
“You think so? I thought that maybe I should have used more blood.”
“Nah. I’ve seen plenty of Drifters. They weren’t bloody unless they were feeding.”
“That’s a relief. If you like this outfit, you should have been here for our Marlene Dietrich festival. I wore a tux and white tie all week.”
“I bet you were a knockout.”
“You’re goddamn right.”
“What’s your next festival?”
On-screen, the dead are clawing their way up out of the ground.