called speed dating. You have five minutes to see if you like someone, then a permed-bitch control freak rings a bell and you have to move on to someone else.”
“You’re serious. You’ve done this?”
She makes a face and shakes her head.
“Hell no. But I want to see you squirm. And I have lots worse questions than those. If you were a tree, what kind would you be?”
Someone remind me why I came back to earth.
“Christ. Okay. Ask me the questions again.”
She gives me a wicked smile.
“Favorite color, movie, and song.”
I glance at the kitchen, willing our food to arrive so I can stuff my mouth and not talk.
“Hellion gray, Herbie versus Godzilla, and ‘The Star-Spangled Banner.’ ”
“Okay. Now me.”
“If this is how speed dating works, I think I’ll stay home with Kasabian.”
“Go on.”
“Okay. Favorite car, movie, and way to use a knife.”
Our food arrives while she’s answering. Thanks to whatever monsters are watching over me. This will be over in a minute.
“Shelby Mustang and Evil Dead II. I’ve never used a knife except to cut bagels.”
“Wrong. The correct answer is a ’71 Impala Super Sport. Once Upon a Time in the West. And from behind, your right arm around the throat and an upward thrust with your left so the blade slips between the ribs and into the heart.”
The waiter is laying out the plates when I answer. He freezes for a second then puts down our cutlery and glasses of water. He turns and walks away slowly, like from a rabid dog, trying not to draw its attention or piss it off. What a pro. I’m leaving him a massive tip.
“How are the waffles?”
“Perfect. How about your chicken?”
“Smoothing over this hangover like a road grader.”
We don’t talk for a while. Just eat our food like a couple of civilians who haven’t killed enough people to populate a small city. It’s been six months since that night at Avila when we were both in monster mode, ripping our way through some of L.A.’s most elite millionaires and politicos, all of them Mason’s accomplices as he tried to open the gates of Hell. Candy and I did kiss each other that night. A hard, long kiss while we were covered in other people’s blood, a couple of monsters who recognized each other and weren’t afraid of what they saw. And then nothing. Candy went back on the wagon, taking Doc Kinski’s potion to keep from turning back into a killing machine. Then the Drifters invaded. And someone was looking to kill Doc, so she went on the road with him. I don’t know if there’s anything between us really, but it sure as hell feels like someone sprinkled mayhem and saltpeter all over creation to make sure we never find out.
I feel a little guilt bubbling up in the back of my mind. It’s the same feeling I always get when I look at a woman who isn’t Alice. But like Candy said, we’re here now. Let’s just see what happens. I can’t live in the shadow of Alice’s absence every moment of my life. I don’t push her away, but let her drift back where she was. Not forgotten, but not making me wish I was dead. I don’t let the picture of the Sentenza kid get to me either. Julia found one exorcist, so she can find another. Hell, I could point her to some Sub Rosa demon hunters.
My phone buzzes. A text comes through.
The girl is delicious. You’re right to be with her.
Leave anyan>Lthe case alone. Forget you heard about it.
Stay with the pretty girl.
I push the plates away and get to my feet, storming through the restaurant looking for anyone holding a phone. A guy in blond dreads and a sleeveless T-shirt is looking at his. I’m across the room in two long steps and snatch it from his hand. A woman’s voice comes out of the speaker. He’s listening to his voice mail. I slam the phone on the table and stomp out of the emergency exit, setting off the alarm. There’s no one on the street. A dusty station wagon and a VW Bug pass each other in the road. Only one passenger in each and
“You’re serious. You’ve done this?”
She makes a face and shakes her head.
“Hell no. But I want to see you squirm. And I have lots worse questions than those. If you were a tree, what kind would you be?”
Someone remind me why I came back to earth.
“Christ. Okay. Ask me the questions again.”
She gives me a wicked smile.
“Favorite color, movie, and song.”
I glance at the kitchen, willing our food to arrive so I can stuff my mouth and not talk.
“Hellion gray, Herbie versus Godzilla, and ‘The Star-Spangled Banner.’ ”
“Okay. Now me.”
“If this is how speed dating works, I think I’ll stay home with Kasabian.”
“Go on.”
“Okay. Favorite car, movie, and way to use a knife.”
Our food arrives while she’s answering. Thanks to whatever monsters are watching over me. This will be over in a minute.
“Shelby Mustang and Evil Dead II. I’ve never used a knife except to cut bagels.”
“Wrong. The correct answer is a ’71 Impala Super Sport. Once Upon a Time in the West. And from behind, your right arm around the throat and an upward thrust with your left so the blade slips between the ribs and into the heart.”
The waiter is laying out the plates when I answer. He freezes for a second then puts down our cutlery and glasses of water. He turns and walks away slowly, like from a rabid dog, trying not to draw its attention or piss it off. What a pro. I’m leaving him a massive tip.
“How are the waffles?”
“Perfect. How about your chicken?”
“Smoothing over this hangover like a road grader.”
We don’t talk for a while. Just eat our food like a couple of civilians who haven’t killed enough people to populate a small city. It’s been six months since that night at Avila when we were both in monster mode, ripping our way through some of L.A.’s most elite millionaires and politicos, all of them Mason’s accomplices as he tried to open the gates of Hell. Candy and I did kiss each other that night. A hard, long kiss while we were covered in other people’s blood, a couple of monsters who recognized each other and weren’t afraid of what they saw. And then nothing. Candy went back on the wagon, taking Doc Kinski’s potion to keep from turning back into a killing machine. Then the Drifters invaded. And someone was looking to kill Doc, so she went on the road with him. I don’t know if there’s anything between us really, but it sure as hell feels like someone sprinkled mayhem and saltpeter all over creation to make sure we never find out.
I feel a little guilt bubbling up in the back of my mind. It’s the same feeling I always get when I look at a woman who isn’t Alice. But like Candy said, we’re here now. Let’s just see what happens. I can’t live in the shadow of Alice’s absence every moment of my life. I don’t push her away, but let her drift back where she was. Not forgotten, but not making me wish I was dead. I don’t let the picture of the Sentenza kid get to me either. Julia found one exorcist, so she can find another. Hell, I could point her to some Sub Rosa demon hunters.
My phone buzzes. A text comes through.
The girl is delicious. You’re right to be with her.
Leave anyan>Lthe case alone. Forget you heard about it.
Stay with the pretty girl.
I push the plates away and get to my feet, storming through the restaurant looking for anyone holding a phone. A guy in blond dreads and a sleeveless T-shirt is looking at his. I’m across the room in two long steps and snatch it from his hand. A woman’s voice comes out of the speaker. He’s listening to his voice mail. I slam the phone on the table and stomp out of the emergency exit, setting off the alarm. There’s no one on the street. A dusty station wagon and a VW Bug pass each other in the road. Only one passenger in each and
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