how many of him there are.
Near Big Bill a guy sits with his hands folded neatly in his lap. He’s in a suit sharp enough to cut diamonds and has a manicure that would make the pope jealous. He’s not Sub Rosa and he’s on edge enough that I don’t think he’s ever seen so many in one place before. Or maybe he’s spooked because a crazy guy just broke in firing a gun.
At the rear of the place is a girl with a shaved head and a lot of tattoos. I’d swear I know her from somewhere but I’ve known more than a couple of tattooed girls over the years. She has thick scars on her neck and the side of her face is like one of those women you hear about who get hit with acid by a psycho ex-lover. That means I don’t know her. I’d remember those scars. You have to admire Sub Rosa who keeps their wounds. When you can go to a hoodoo clinic like Allegra’s and have them healed in an hour, you know this girl loves her scars more than she loves being beautiful. Good for her.
I look at Blackburn and flick open the na’at.
“Why did you send goons after me tonight? They busted into a public place and started shooting. Civilians got hurt.”
King Cairo laughs like I told a great knock-knock joke.
“Of course, Cairo. They’re your assholes. Aren’t they? I should have known by the Wishbone shakes. No wonder they couldn’t hit anything they aimed at.”
Aelita says, “They attacked you because they thought you were the other Stark. He didn’t carry guns or use profanity. He was a refreshing change until he murdered the mayor’s son.”
“That ring-tailed choirboy? I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it. We have witnesses.”
She folds her hands on the desk and gives me a cold smile.
“Maybe he got bored acting like a sane man and was trying to be more like you.”
“Or maybe you just made the whole thing up to kill me piece by piece like you’re doing with God.”
“Your doppelganger made a lot of enemies.”
I take out a Malediction and light it. If you went by the gasp from the crowd you’d think I was skinning a deer on the Persian rug.
“I should have let Mason kill you.”
She sips her tea and puts it down.
“What a strange thing to say. You saved us angels to keep the gates of Hell closed and now here you are. Hell itself. You saved this world from horror only to return as the embodiment of horror.”
“Guess the God-killing business doesn’t pay well if you have to wet-nurse these ankle biters.”
“I go where I’m needed.”
Cairo has inched his way closer behind me. I flick the na’at at his feet. He dances back a step. He looks like a prancing idiot but he’s a dangerous son of a bitch.
“If the hit squad in the bar were legit Sub Rosa security, why did they take off their brands?”
Cairo clears his throat.
“New security policy. Some of the boys got God. Thou shalt not mark thy body or some such. Anyway, praying calms them, so I encourage it.”
I shove Blackburn into a chair, say “Stay,” and
