“Did you find the present I got you? Brass knuckles.”
“Did you look at them? The knuckles have swastikas on them. I don’t want them.”
“Damn. I missed that.”
“What’s in that big jar?”
I look around for Vincent. He’s next to Kasabian.
“I found your heart.”
“You did? You mean Townsend’s heart.”
“It doesn’t matter whose heart it is. It’s how they bound you. If we put it back, you’ll be your old self again.”
“How do we put it back?”
“How did they take it out?”
“Oh,” he says.
“You can’t be serious,” says Allegra. “You can’t just cut him open and start shoving organs inside.”
“I can’t. But you can.”
“Forget it.”
“Listen, if we don’t get rid of McCarthy by dawn, the White Lights will own death. They’ll decide who lives and who dies and when. It’s the ultimate racket.”
“Are you sure about this?” says Vidocq.
“Yes. We don’t have long to fix things. What time is it?”
“A little after three,” says Candy.
“Dawn is only a few hours off. We can’t fuck around arguing. Vincent, are you ready for this?”
He has a hand on his chest.
“Yes. I want to go back.”
Allegra shakes her head.
“This is ridiculous. I won’t do it.”
I sit up. The room spins, but I don’t fall over. I’m pretty hard to kill, and heal quicker than a civilian. I test my right arm. It straightens out about three-quarters of the way. It hurts, but I don’t pass out. I try raising it and get it as far as my shoulder.
I say, “If you won’t do it, I will. Come on, Vincent. This is probably going to be messy. Why don’t you get in the bathtub?”
He sighs.
“All right. Will it hurt?”
“The bathtub? No. It’ll be cold.”
“No. The cutting.”
“Did it hurt when you woke up with your heart gone?”