“Not yet,” Candy says.
“I have a feeling Mr. Muninn has something to do with it. I don’t know how long the ride will last but I’m ready to go till the wheels come off.”
Candy brightens.
“You ought to take a night off and come over,” she says to Carlos. “I’ll make dinner. And by ‘make dinner,’ I mean I’ll call down for enough food to sink the Titanic.”
“It’s a date,” says Carlos, and he pours us another round of Jack.
Father Traven pushes his way inside. He looks a little overwhelmed. I wonder if he thinks every bar is like Bamboo House. Will he be disappointed the first time he goes to a civilian one?
“Hey, Father. Damned anyone today?”
He smiles.
“Not a single soul.”
“The night is young. How are you holding up?”
He shrugs. Takes a sip of red wine.
“Fine. Still processing it all. The newspapers are saying that the Osterberg family had investments in the defense industry and that his death is being investigated as a possible instance of domestic terrorism. Apparently Homeland Security is involved.”
I put my Kissi arm around his shoulders. I have long sleeves and a glove on so he doesn’t have to look.
“Don’t sweat it. I used to do jobs for them. They’re looking for guys in ski masks, not a priest and some monsters. We’re not even on their radar.”
“I hope you’re right.”
He turns and looks over the crowd.
Blue-skinned Luderes are gambling at a table near the jukebox. Manimal Mike and his vucari cousins sit with a bunch of Nahuals trading shots of expensive tequila and cheap vodka. Shape-shifters, gloomy necromancers, and club kids dressed like electric peacocks slow-dance to Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys doing “Blues for Dixie.”
“What if someone got my license-plate number coming down the hill?”
“When would they do that? When they were being knocked stupid by rocks or buried under flying sharks? Relax and have a drink.”
He takes another sip of wine.
“So your angel, Aelita, seems to be behind everything that’s happened. How tragic that she chose that particular vengeful ghost.”
“I don’t see it that way.”
Carlos looks as happy as I’ve seen him in a long time. His brother-in-law is helping out while he’s healing. He seems to like having a partner.
“There’s nothing tragic or bad luck about it. Aelita doesn’t make mistakes like that. She knew who the Imp was.”
“She deliberately let loose a piece of the Angra Om Ya in this world? Why?”
“To help her kill God. I figure that she can’t do it on her own. Why else would she leave the Qomrama in Hell? She got lucky when she killed Neshamah, but she doesn’t really know how to use it. The Angra do.”
Traven picks up a single peanut from the coconut bowls full of them.
“Why would she invite entities that can destroy the universe? Presumably, she’d be destroyed too.”
“You said it yourself. God made an offering that tricked the Angra into another dimension. Maybe she has that or knows how to do it. She brings the Angra in, uses them, and sends them on their merry way. It’s exactly how she likes to work.”
“How do you know all this?”