Page 120

“I’m beyond that, ma’am. But this young fool, who knows.”

I blow smoke rings at the ceiling.

“I’m not a person. I don’t get sick.”

“How do you know?” she says.

“Jade intuition.”

“Very funny.”

I look back at Bill.

“When he was alive, Quay lived in an underground mansion in Griffith Park. Maybe we should start looking there.”

“I don’t know about any underground lairs,” says Bill. “But a few months back, a whole load of Hellions built a big house in the park, way up by the barbican.”

“Then let’s definitely start there,” says Candy.

I flick some ash off the Malediction.

“Let’s.” To Bill I say, “Do you have any weapons at all?”

“I always have a weapon around.”

He takes an old but serviceable-looking bowie knife and sets it on the bar. Follows it with a well-worn sapper, a heavy weight the shape of a truncheon wrapped in leather.

&nbs

p; “Never without them,” he says.

I take the sapper with my Kissi hand and rap it against my human one. Just once.

“You could crack some skulls with that.”

“Can and have,” he says.

“You’re going to need more firepower than that if you’re coming along, though. Here.”

I take the Colt from my waistband and set it on the bar. He picks it up, admiring the engraving along the body and barrel, then pops the cylinder. Spins it and slaps the gun closed. Sets it down again.

“Some admirable iron you have there.”

“Candy gave it to me.”

He looks across the bar at her.

“I’m liking you better all the time.”

“You too, Jim,” she says.

I take out some of the speed loaders and set them next to the pistol.

“These will help you reload faster. You open the cylinder and—”

“Boy, I was shooting the eyes out of eagles in full flight before your sorry ass was conceived of. I think I know how to load a pistol.”

“Sorry. And don’t worry about the ammo. They’re special. They’ll kill anything that comes at us.”