front-slashed, as if by an animal. Pavel shuttered the corridor at both ends and steered customers to a side entrance. The Ellyll woman bled maybe a quart into the carpet while Danny packed her in gauze, wound her in yards of tape. Hemlock and pressure finally stopped the flow, but the morphine didn't seem to be taking, and she gasped and moaned and arched her back, calling out in Ellytha. Once she got her hands around Danny's shoulders and pulled; Cloudhunter unwound the hands without speaking.
Mr. Patrise watched for a while, then nodded, patted Danny's shoulder, and went back to the main room. Finally two other elves wearing green took the woman away; up to Division, to heal in Elfland, Danny supposed. But he didn't ask.
He asked Mr. Patrise if he could go home. His shirt was saturated with gwaed e//y//; he stripped it off in the Mirada kite hen and buttoned on a clean white cook's jacket. Cloudhunter drove him back, and then followed him to his rooms; Damn was too wound up to offer any objection.
With the door closed, Cloud said, 'You followed her words, did you not:'
'Yeah.'
'She was unminded. Pain, injury, drugs. She did not know you, nor where she was, nor what she said.'
'She called for the Wild Hunt. For me to send the Wild Hunt after her. Does that mean-'
'You are correct. The Hunt is not Death.'
Danny nodded. He was shaking. 'Cloud,' he said, feeling horribly empty, 'I cut up the dead ones, and I don't care.'
'You saved a lady's life, and you do care,' Cloud said simply. 'When she crosses the portal, all will be healed. She will not remember what happened, what she said, what you did.'
Danny let out a breath, looked up. 'Thank you, Cloud.'
'Any thanks due are to you, Doc. But if I assisted you, you are welcome.' Cloudhunter bowed his head and went out.
Danny stumbled into the bathroom and undressed, checked himself for remaining elf-blood; he turned the shower on hot and collapsed into the sprays.
He knew enough of what the Glasa woman had said. Mr. Pa-trise probably did too. And Cloudhunter would have heard all of it.
He had tried to think of her as just a set of wounds he was closing up, a combative patient. But no patient had ever howled to be hurt again. And to beg for the Wild Hunt Was that what he wanted Ginevra to say to him?
He had the kitchen send up a pot of cocoa, sat in his living room with every light on drinking it until well toward dawn.
I he phone woke him. 'Hello.'
'Happy birthday, to you,' Ginny said. 'Happy birthday to you, happy birthday, Doc Hallow, happy birthday to you.'
'But it's not-'
'Yes, it is, too.'
Then he understood. It was two days until Halloween. 'Oh. Well, thank you.'
'You aren't busy tonight, right?'
'No.'
'Then you're busy tonight. See you at six.' She hung up.
He stared at the phone for a moment. Then he laughed.
That afternoon, McCain asked to meet Danny in the infirmary.
'What can I help you with, Line?' Danny said, absurdly aware that he was playing the old country doctor.
'It's about not getting-a girl pregnant.'
'Well, there's condoms.' This was getting more ridiculous by the second.
'I know about rubbers. I have to know if there's anything better. Something that can't miss.'
'There are pills-'
'For the guy?'
'No, the girl. And there are those sponges.'
'No. Not something for her. For me.' Between the topic and the crazy urgency in McCain's voice, Danny was hopelessly out of his depth.
'I don't think anything's absolutely perfect. But if you cover from a couple of angles… There's a cream, too, that kills sperm. If you use that with the rubber, you ought to be all right.'
'Okay. I guess that's good. Have you got some of that?'
Danny had to hunt around in the cabinet, but there turned out to be four tubes. 'You don't have to tell me, Line,' he said with what he hoped was quiet understatement, 'but why-'
McCain said flatly, 'I'm a Vamp. Loop Garou, as if you couldn't guess.'
Danny managed not to blurt out anything stupid. 'But… you don't…'
'Not anymore. But they say you don't ever get it all out. The idea of a kid born that way… couldn't do that, Doc.'
The revelation, from McCain, made Danny feel like whistling in the graveyard. He dispensed the meds and what wisdom he could offer with them.
'Thanks, Doc,' McCain said. 'Wasn't something I could talk about with Stagger Lee. Don't tell him that.'
' 'Course not.'
When McCain had gone, Danny let out a long breath, and stocked his own pockets.
The movie at Laughs was The Ghost Breakers. Damn hadn't much liked the Bob Hope movies he'd seen, but this one wasn't bad, funny and mysterious and even a little scarv. Ginnv's hand locked onto his during the first thunderstorm scene, and never let go until they were out of the theater and in the restaurant up the street. Then she let him go long enough to get into an inches-deep pizza with half the garden on top.
A bulky figure in a baggy, wrinkled trench coat came up. 'Good evening, loyal readers.'
'Hi, Lucius.'
'Don't stop,' Lucius said. 'I may be a busybody-in fact, I am a busybody, and a highly paid one at that-but I know better than to interfere with serious eye contact.'
'It's a birthday party,' Ginny said.
'Oh? Oh, I see. Happy birthday, Doc.'
Ginny said, 'Would you join us for a while, Mr. Birdsong?'
'Oh, Ginny. Have all those long scotches come between me and my first name?'
Danny said, 'Sit down, Lucius. Please.'
He spread his hands, shrugged his coat off, pulled up a chair.
Ginny said, 'We want to go out someplace after dinner. Not one of the usual places. Do you have any suggestions?'
Lucius ordered a beer. He was frowning. It looked strange on him. 'Can I tell you a story, by way of answering that? One you'll never read in the column?'
Danny said, 'Sure.'
'Okay. Wait for the beer. It needs a beer.' They talked about nothing in particular until Lucius's drink came. He clicked glasses with them, took a sip.
'Once upon a time,' Lucius said, 'I got lost on the Levee. Somewhere up around Division and the River. I mean, / got lost: the Minstrel of the City Streets. I certainly wasn't going to ask directions. Even if I'd seen anyone to ask, which I didn't. It was a cool night, not cold, good for walking. So I walked. Straight line, keep going. After all, sooner or later I'd hit Elfland, or the lake, or New Orleans, or San Francisco, any of which would do for orien- tational purposes.'
Danny had never heard Lucius tell a story before. His voice was soft: he was speaking only to the two of them. He had some of the same manner as the newspaper column, but not so dry, not so distant.
'Eventually there was a neon sign up ahead: not buzzing, wired to a spellbox, so I hadn't crossed the Line without noticing. It was a dance joint, jumping pretty good; in go I, who do not exactly jump with the best. It was Danceland. Ever hear of it?'
Danny said no. Ginny said she'd read a magazine article.
Lucius said, 'The immediate point is that Danceland is a Shadow joint, but not our Shadow, not the Levee,
