“I didn’t think you’d believe me. Who told you?”

“The four guys who shot up Bamboo House of Dolls and almost killed Carlos.”

“Damn. That’s verging on rude.”

“Tell me you didn’t know there were shooters looking for Saint James. I’ll know if you’re lying.”

“Why the hell would I do something like that?”

“If I was dead, you’d have all the money.”

“I already have all the money. Even I wouldn’t do that shit to you. I might be a bastard but I’m not a complete asshole.”

Kasabian is harder to read than live people. He doesn’t breathe or have a heartbeat. But Lucifer’s senses would catch him in a lie.

“I believe you. This would have been a lot easier if you were trying to get rid of me.”

“I am trying to get rid of you, just not kill you. And thanks for the vote of confidence. You’re back for a day and you’re already starting with the hostile attitude. I’m starting to miss the choirboy.”

I set the duffel bag on the floor.

“Look, I didn’t think it was you but I had to ask. I’ve got something with me that might interest you. A peace offering because looking over my shoulder all the time is giving me cramps.”

“What kind of peace offering?”

“A better look into Hell.”

“And why would I want that exactly?”

“Because I’d pay you for the info.”

“I think we’ve already established that I have all the money.”

“And we both know I could take it back if I really wanted but I’d rather take money from uncool people.”

“Like who?”

“King Cairo for one. I had to spank him in front of an audience tonight.”

Kasabian shakes his head. Nervously taps one of his hellhound claws on the desk.

“I knew you freaks would go at it eventually. You two need to get a room and hug it out.”

“Do you want a new superpower or not?”

“How does it work?”

“I’m not a hundred percent sure it will. But I’m guessing since you can already see into Hell this will be like souping up a Camaro with a nitrous injector.”

“Do I have to do anything?”

“Just sit still.”

“If you say ‘trust me,’ I’m climbing out the window.”

“You don’t have to trust me. You just have to not move.”

He flinches when I set the jar of eyes on the desk and mumbles “Oh shit,” when I take one out. He reaches for my arm. I pop out one of his eyes and he freezes. I put in the peeper. When I let go of him he wails like a scalded banshee.

“What did you do to me, you fucking freak? I’m fucking blind. Christ. For one second I let you get near me and this happens. Fuck!”

“Hey, don’t forget who got you that body.”

“And don’t forget who made me need it.”

“Quit whining and tell me what you see.”

“Nothing. You took my eye, you crazy motherfucker.”

“I just swapped it. If this doesn’t work you can have it back. Relax and tell me if you see anything.”

Kasabian sits rigid in his chair with his eyes closed, turning his head from side to side. He holds onto the seat with both hands. His legs pump nervously. Then they stop.

“Oh man.”

“What do you see?”

“All kinds of stuff. It’s like a bee’s eye. Like there’s a million little lenses and each one sees something different.”

“Good. I left peepers all over. That means you can see through a bunch of them. Try to zoom in on one and tell me what you see.”

“It’s like a jail. There’s cells and . . . No. Wait. It’s pens. It’s like a kennel. Oh shit, there are hellhounds.”

“How nice. A family reunion.”

“Shut up. I’m trying to concentrate. I’m in that library of yours. I can see all over inside. The big front doors are open a little and kind of burned. Like someone tried to slip you a hotfoot.”

“Sounds like someone tried to get in after I left and stepped in one of the hexes. That’ll keep busybodies out for a while.”

“Man. I’m on a goddamn guided tour. There’s soldiers and crowds and market stalls.”

“Anything else?”

“I’m low. Like I’m a midget.”

“I gave eyes to some of the hounds. You’re probably seeing through those.”

He nods, smiling for the first time since I got back.

“This is cool. What kind of information do you want? I can’t hear anything.”

“Learn to lip-read.”

“Half these ugly fucks don’t have lips. And they’re probably all speaking Hellion.”

“I forgot about that. Let me see what I can do about it.”

“Okay. You’ve got a deal. How much are you going to pay me for information?”

“The going rate.”

“You’re not really going to pay me anything, are you?”

“No, but if I didn’t lie you wouldn’t have that nice new eye. It seems like a fair trade.”

“I’ve made worse.”

He takes a swig of his beer and discreetly closes the laptop.

“So what are you doing now? Mugging old ladies for pocket change yet?”

“They run too fast. I stick to Girl Scouts and nuns.”

“I’ve got pizza coming if you want to hang around. After this I was maybe going to watch Devil Girl from Mars.”

“I think I met her at Wild Bill’s place. You have any coffee?”

“Are you kidding?”

“I’ll have a beer.”

He takes one from the mini-fridge under the desk and tosses it to me.

He turns the sound back up on Across 110th Street and says, “Shit’s going to get weird again, isn’t it? You running around killing people.”

“It’s already started.”

He shakes his head and his half-full belly wobbles.

“You ever going to tell me about that armor, Tin Man?”

“Let me drink this, Old Yeller, and I’ll tell you a weirder story than you ever dreamed.”

“If it’s about you I doubt it.”

I’m back at the Beat Hotel when Candy calls around noon.

“Want to get some breakfast at our place?” she asks.

“We have a place?”

“Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles, stupid.”

“How’s Carlos? Can I see him?”

“Allegra worked him over pretty good last night. He’s sleeping it off. You can see him this evening.”

“Cool. Let’s forget breakfast. Want to go with me and hassle people?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

There’s no way I’m taking the Hellion bike out in broad daylight. I use the black blade to pop the lock and ignition on a Porsche Boxster Spyder and pick up Candy at the clinic. When I open up the car on the 101 North I can’t help but smile. There’s something about driving a pretty girl somewhere potentially dangerous in a stolen car that just makes you feel good.

We drive to the address in Chatsworth that Lula Hawks gave me. It might be a waste of time but it’s the only waste of time I have right now.

The address is a grease-caked car repair place that’s such an obvious front they might as well put up a “Not a Real Garage” sign out front.

“Before we go in, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you but it was never the right time.”

“Let me guess. You’re the Lindbergh baby.”

“I’m the Devil. Lucifer went back to Heaven and stuck me with the job. I’m the new Lucifer. I just thought you might want to know who you’re hanging around with.”

She looks at me, her eyebrows slightly raised like she’s waiting for me to say something else. She cocks her head when I don’t.

“You thought I’d have a problem with you being devilish? Do you know me at all?”

“With things between us being complicated, I didn’t know.”

“Come here,” she says, and gives me a good long kiss. “There’s complicated and there’s complicated. Wanting to kiss you isn’t complicated.”

“Just everything else?”

“Just everything else.”

We walk over to the garage. When it’s clear we’re coming inside a couple of Lurkers drop their magazines and grab rubber mallets to start beating on the engine of a car that hasn’t moved in a good ten years. The Lurkers are vucaris, Russian beast men. Mostly wolves. They’re kind of like Nahuals, the local frat beasts. Like Manimal Mike’s half-assed front job these two look don’t look like much in the brains and ambition department.