She’s looking at the junk and not at me.

“There’s no reason you have to leave. You heard what Mason said. However this thing turns out it can’t last more than three days.”

She looks at me over her shoulder, kicking splinters and broken glass into the pile.

“You want me to just hang around here like you’ve gone out for cigarettes?”

“I’m coming back,” I say.

She turns and faces me, arms folded and staring at her feet.

“Are you? You’re not going to find something more important to do? Save the whales in Narnia or start a Hellion homeless shelter?”

“If you think I’m going to get back with Alice, you’re wrong. I’m going back to save her. Those are two different things.”

“Easy to say standing here when you can’t see her and aren’t all dewy-eyed. She’s the love of your life and I’m just some girl with fangs you like to fuck.”

I hate shit like this. This is when I want to be Downtown and stay there. This is what regular people call real life and I can’t stand it. Give me a thousand Hellion throats to cut. It’s better than this.

I say, “It’s not like that and you know it.”

There’s a long pause.

“I want to think that.”

“So do it. This is what it’s like being around me. I don’t get a lot of downeft lot oftime.”

I go over to her. She’s still staring at her feet. Her arms are still crossed, but she doesn’t move away. I rest my hands on her shoulders.

“Ever since I got back, people having been getting bloody because of me. Parker almost killed Allegra and Vidocq. A Drifter took a bite out of Brigitte. Doc Kinski is dead. Alice was dragged off to Hell. Now it’s this Hunter kid and you.”

She unfolds her arms and lets them drop to her sides.

I say, “I can’t fix what’s already happened, but I can goddamn well kill it at the source, and that’s what I’m going to do. I’m not doing this for Alice or you or Doc or anyone else. I’m doing this for me because I’m tired of waiting to see what kind of heinous shit Mason dreams up next and who it’s going to take down.”

I move a hand up behind her head, feeling her shaggy Joan Jett hair.

“Don’t stick around if you don’t want to. Hell, I never even bought you the breakfast I promised. It’d be great if you’re here when I get back, but I won’t blame you if you’re not. I don’t know if I’d stick around this half-assed horse opera. So if I don’t see you again, thanks for playing monster with me for a while. It felt good.”

I turn and head for the door, but stop before I get it open. I don’t turn around.

“You got a taste of blood when you bit that dealer back at Dead Set. Promise me you’ll go to Allegra and get some of the potion that helps you control the craving.”

“I promise.”

I go out onto the balcony, closing the door behind me.

IN THE PARKING lot, foreign exchange students are playing basketball and eating burritos from a taqueria truck parked on the street. A couple have their laptops out and are video-chatting with their families back home.

I head to my room with Kasabian.

Someone taps me on the shoulder.

“Hey.”

Candy comes around in front of me.

She says, “When you’re born in a burning house, you think the whole world is on fire. But it’s not.”

“What is that?”

“It’s something Doc told me. I didn’t get it at first, but later on it made sense. I thought maybe it could help you.”

“Thanks.”

I nod at the door.

“You coming in?”

She smiles a little and nods.

We go in.

Vidocq, Allegra, and Father Traven are inside talking. Vidocq and Allegra are sitting on the bed and Traven is on a chair across from them. Kasabian is by his computer listening to them and smoking. Candy goes over and sits by Allegra.

There’s a small single bed in the corner. It never gets used, so junk just gets piled there. Magazines. DVDs. Dirty clothes. A few bottles of Jack Daniel’s. I sweep it onto the floor and think about sitting down, but it doesn’t quite happen.

“Is this my going-away party or a wake? ’Cause if it’s supposed to be a party, you’re doing it wrong.”

“We knew that you being you, you would just creep off into the night like a thief,” says Vidocq. “So we decided to force our company upon you for a little while before you left.”

I look at Vidocq.

“Yeah. You’re right. I would have—so you don’t have to watch me twitch until sundown.”

“What happens at sundown?” asks Allegra.

“I make like Robert Johnson and go down to the crossroads.”

Candy says, “Is that what Mustang Sally said?”

“Yes. I can find a back door to Hell there.”

“Who’s Mustang Sally?” Allegra asks.

“The patron saint of road rage.”

Vidocq puts a hand on her arm.

“A significant local spirit. I’ll tell you about her later.”

I’m standing in the middle of the room like an idiot. They’re all gawking at me like I’m made of peanut brittle and might fall apart any second. I want to toss everyone out. I need to get my brain wired tight for Hell. And the Black Dahlia. I’m trying not to think about that. I’ve been nearly killed a hundred ways, but never in a car, and I never had to actually die to pull off any hoodoo before. What if it all goes wrong? What if I end up just another tangle of ground meat and chrome on the side of the freeway? I’d get a great obituary. “A suspect in the murder of his longtime girlfriend Alice, a man who was declared legally dead seven yeredead seears ago, finally turns up really and truly dead in a stolen car wrapped around a freeway support while rushing to have tea with the devil.”

Mason would love to have me stuck in Hell. Just another damned dead asshole. So would all the generals and aristocrats I didn’t get a chance to kill and the friends and families of all the Hellions I did kill. If I end up dead down there, it’ll be one long endless Dante gang bang. Get out the chain saws and pass the mint juleps. It’s party time down south.

“Why don’t you sit down for a while?” says Candy.

Allegra chimes in, “Even Sandman Slim can’t make the sun go down faster.”

“I was going to stamp my feet and hold my breath, but you’re probably right.”

I sit down on the small bed.

“What happens now? Did anyone bring cake? Or is it a sleepover and we’re going to do each other’s nails?”

“Don’t be like that,” says Candy. “Your friends are just worried, is all.”

“I appreciate that, but if you want to help, we should switch beds. I need to get some stuff from under that one.”

Candy, Allegra, and Vidocq come over to the small one and I go around them to the big bed. It’s a clumsy little square dance, but we make it. Candy squeezes my arm as she goes by and whispers, “Don’t be a little bitch,” in my ear.

That’s the best advice anyone’s given me all year.

I take off my coat and throw it on the bed. I pull everything out of the coat and my pockets. I toss the cash aside. It won’t do me any good Downtown. A key to this room and Candy’s. Toss those. My phone. Toss. A pencil-thin piece of lead I sometimes use for drawing magic circles. Another toss. I carry a lot of crap.

I pull a silver coin and a smooth pea-size piece of amber out of my pants pocket. The silver coin is about the size of a quarter and is old. Like ancient old. The kind of thing Doc would have carried. And there’s the amber. It’s not big enough to be worth anything. I’ve never seen either of them before. Someone must have slipped them into my pocket. I get it. Silver is protection from evil. Amber is for healing. I don’t look over at Candy. I just put them back in my pocket.

Vidocq says, “Let me be sure I understand this. Your great plan is to do exactly what Mason told you to do?”

“Pretty much. I sneak in, grab Alice, stab Mason in the head, and I’m back in time to catch the Beatles on Ed Sullivan.”

“Mason is a born liar and he hates you. Why would to. Why whe possibly tell you the truth?”