Killing Pretty by Richard Kadrey

kicking your ass if you don’t believe me again.”
    â€œDone.”
    She rubs her chin with her index finger.
    â€œOne thing. Your friend in the closet, he could see me through the glamour. What do you see when you look at me? Candy or Chihiro?”
    â€œDon’t tell me you’re jealous of yourself.”
    â€œPut a sock in it, Jack Benny. Can you see me?”
    â€œI see both of you. Sort of a ghost hovering over another ghost. Chihiro is in the foreground, but I can see you just fine.”
    That seems to satisfy her, but she’s still frowning.
    â€œYou know what I’m really afraid of? Meeting new ­people. You and Brigitte and our friends know who I am under all this magic, but when I meet someone new I’ll just be Chihiro. That means the first thing that person knows about me, the first thing I tell them, will be a lie.”
    â€œI thought about that. But consider the alternative.”
    She taps her round sunglasses against her knuckles.
    â€œYeah. I wonder if there’s a statute of limitations or anything on assault. Maybe I don’t have to hide forever.”
    â€œI don’t know. I’ll ask Julie. But, you know, the law might not be the same for Lurkers. The government was already throwing you in internment camps. I don’t think forgiveness is high on their agenda.”
    She slips on the glasses. Does an unhappy half smile.
    â€œThen, I’m Chihiro forever.”
    â€œWe don’t know that. I’ll see what I can find out.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œI should get going. I don’t want to leave you alone with that guy any longer than I have to.”
    â€œDon’t rush. The way he looks, if I speak harshly he’ll faint.”
    â€œI won’t be long. I’ve just got to find a car.”
    â€œDon’t steal anything boring,” she says as I start away.
    â€œI just need to find something with an engine that didn’t die in the flood.”
    She points to Hollywood Boulevard.
    â€œThere’s a Range Rover around the corner. It might work.”
    â€œThanks. I’ll look for it.”
    â€œI’m going to get drunk with Kasabian.”
    â€œI’ll join you when I get back.”
    I head down the street, but she yells after me.
    â€œWhere can I get brass knuckles?”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œI want a set.”
    â€œWhy? You don’t need them.”
    She runs a hand through her short hair.
    â€œCandy doesn’t need them. I think Chihiro would look fetching with a pair.”
    â€œChristmas is over, you know.”
    â€œIt’s the first I’m hearing of it. Maybe they should be pink to match my hair.”
    â€œNo. They’ll be brass or black.”
    She opens the door to Max Overdrive.
    â€œIf you love me you’ll find me a pair.”
    â€œI think regular ­people refer to this as emotional blackmail.”
    She starts inside.
    â€œI can’t hear you. I’m going now.”
    â€œYou’re a horrible person.”
    â€œFind me a pair or learn to love fucking your hand.”
    I walk down to the boulevard, and sure enough, there’s a Range Rover Defender near the end of the block. I slip the black blade into the driver’s-­side lock and the door pops open. When I jam the blade into the ignition, the Rover starts on the first try. I pull out into the sparse traffic wondering who I know who deals in knuckle-­dusters.
    I GET ON the 101 south to the 10, get off and head north on Crenshaw to Venice Boulevard, and pull up by an old battleship of a building. They used to manufacture safes inside, back when there were only three TV channels and everyone dreamed of L.A. in black and white.
    I go inside and take the battered industrial elevator up to the third floor. I lived here twelve years ago, before Mason sent me Downtown and Alice was still alive. Vidocq took over the apartment after I disappeared. Used some of his alchemical tricks to make