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“Good. You haven’t even heard the band yet.”

“Have you been practicing?”

“Not while you were gone, but we’re back at it.”

“I want to hear.”

“Soon.”

A FEW DAYS later, I can actually walk out of Max Overdrive on my own. I get a new frock coat and new boots entirely free of bug juice. I know that the bugs were probably a hallucination, but I still can’t look at the coat or boots without seeing centipede guts.

I’m still weak for a few more days. It’s pissing me off. I want to call Abbot, but I lost my phone.

Some days, I help Kasabian in the store. Mostly I shelve returned discs. Nothing that requires a lot of brainwork. At night, the band practices in the storeroom. I know they’d rather be at Alessa’s rehearsal space, but Candy still doesn’t want to leave me alone for too long. They sound really good. One night, I manage to make it to Donut Universe and back on my own. The band devours the whole bag while they take a break.

I think about Bill a lot. It’s been a few days. He’s probably headed south by now. I hope the train made it to Long Beach. It wasn’t fun seeing Mason. He’s good at mind games, but I know we’re not going to be meeting again. From now on, people only go into Tartarus. No one comes out. Ever, ever, cross my heart.

Oh man. I killed Muninn’s maze. And I told a bunch of little guys to loot the cavern. I have a feeling that there are going to be consequences. But what’s he going to do? Send me to Hell?

Wait. Maybe he will. He can always have some angels round up the wandering hellbeasts and put them back in the zoo. Then make me the zookeeper. I don’t want to shovel monster shit until the end of time. I’ve got to make it up to him. Maybe one of those fruit bouquets. It will probably cost extra for delivery because of the exotic address, but it will be worth it.

How am I going to pay? Where’s my money? In my wallet? Do I even have a wallet? Maybe I’m not ready to see Abbot yet. Give it a couple of more days. Maybe sleep a little longer.

CANDY CALLS ABBOT, and in a couple of days, he sends a limo for me.

That bugbite must have been special high-octane stuff. I don’t get sick like this. Now I’m not sorry I burned Wormwood’s hill. Maybe clearing out the forest was a good thing. Nothing worse can take its place, I’m sure. I don’t want to think about it too hard.

I have the knife and my na’at in my coat, not because I think I’ll need them, but because I feel naked without them. My back doesn’t feel right without the Colt pressed against my spine. I tried a SIG P220, but the smooth body felt funny after the roundness of the Colt. Guess I’ll have to get used to it. I’m not likely to find another revolver I like as much as that Peacemaker. In the end, I put an M&P Shield 9mm in my pocket. It’s a little walking-around gun, but the bullets punch regular-size holes in things. Armed up, I feel more like myself, but still not right. And it’s not the poison.

It’s something else I can’t put my finger on.

The afternoon ride to Marina del Rey doesn’t take long. The gate to Abbot’s boat is already open when I get there. A guard waves me through. Another guard motions on board the boat when I reach the gangway.

Willem is on the deck looking as Eliot Ness as ever.

“Hi, Willem. Is the boss home?”

“He’ll be up in a minute.”

“Thanks.”

He gives me a look. I’m talking to him like a person and it makes him nervous.

“I hear you’re back from a trip,” he says.

“Been back a few days. But I picked up a little bug and didn’t want to spread it around. You know?”

He nods.

“People say that you went down to Hell.”

“Is that what people say?”

“You know what I say?”

“Bullshit??

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