“Goddamn,” I say.
“Careful in case one of them is still around. They were very picky about blasphemy,” says Kasabian.
“Hey, Kas,” says Candy. “Does your leg hurt?”
“Only when I breathe or think.”
Candy and I sit on the bed. Kasabian holds out a beer. We shake our heads.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with you and your beef with King Cairo, would it?”
“I don’t know. Did they say what they wanted?” I ask.
“There wasn’t a lot of chitchat. Mostly it was crashing and throwing and then a couple of them that bounced up and down on my leg asking where it was.”
“Did they say what ‘it’ was?”
“I thought they meant the money. I told them where it was, and when they found it, they left it and took off. Two hundred grand in cash and they just walked away.”
A pack of Maledictions lies next to the overturned desk. I get the smokes and light a couple, passing one to him.
“They’re good Christian boys. Thou shall not steal and all that Ten Commandments hoodoo. The new Golden Vigil. Smashing the place and fucking up your leg is for the greater good but taking a nickel is a mortal sin.”
Kasabian sets down his beer and tries to stand. The leg collapses the moment he puts weight on it. He lies down on his back.
“Look at me. I should have stayed on my skateboard.”
“It’s okay. I met a guy and he owes me a favor. He’ll finish your body.”
Kasabian props himself up on his elbows.
“And then what? I wait around for the next Curious George to come through the door and break my other leg? Everything was quiet and boring and fine until you came back, and now it’s all shit again.”
“That’s pretty harsh and it’s not even true,” says Candy.
“So says the pretty girl with two working legs. If it wasn’t for you, he would have been here to kick those guys’ asses.”
I say, “Don’t go blaming her. You’re the one who wanted me gone, Old Yeller.”
“And you’re the one who should’ve ignored me like you used to. What do I know? I’m a head on a stick. I get emotional.”
The Magic 8 Ball and the singularity are still in the duffel at the Beat Hotel. I need to move them to the Chateau.
Kasabian tosses the beer can into a small pile across the room. He opens the fridge and takes out another.
“I’ve been watching Hell on your peeper, by the way. Without sound I can’t understand everything, so maybe you can help me. Are burning churches a good thing or a bad thing?”
Shit. Merihim works fast. Deumos isn’t going to take an attack lying down. I wonder if Semyazah let it happen to lure me back. That’s not going to happen.
“Anything else?”
“Lots. I keep wondering about the uglies in uniform kicking the shit out of other uglies in red pants. Are red pants like a no-white-after-Labor-Day thing down there?”
“I need to get some things from the hotel to a safe place. If you don’t want to stay here, you can come with us.”
“And be crippled and a third wheel in your little love nest? No thanks. Cairo’s Muppets know there’s nothing here. They won’t come back.”
“I hope you’re right. I’m going to put the side door up and lay down some hexes there and in the alley. You want to leave, you do it through the front door. I’ll lay down some lighter hexes there.”