The cab dropped me off at the ziggurat of City Hall. There’s an observation deck set up for folks to gawk on the twenty-seventh floor. It was, of course, closed at five in the morning, but I made my way up there through a combination of black-belt-level bullshit and some subtle use and abuse of the Ajna chakra to fuck with folks’ nervous systems to make them simply not look where I was, at any given moment. In ten minutes, I went from curb to rooftop. Suck it, Gandalf.
It was a hell of a view. I liked having it all to myself, but I didn’t have long to enjoy it. I was running out of time to make shit happen. Dawn was our best shot to hit the gangbangers sheltering Demir, and that wasn’t far off. I placed the toy ring on the edge of the deck, smoked, drank, and waited.
Twenty minutes later, a section of night tore free from the graying sky. It glided down, great black wings fluttering, dropping and landing with a loud “caw.”
“Niiiiicccce,” the crow said, examining the ring with quick pivots of his head. His voice was a warm baritone, rich and deeper than you’d expect.
“Hey, Louie,” I said. “How you been?”
“Well, well, well, it’s my favorite hillbilly,” Louie replied, making quick hops toward me on the ledge. “How you been, Ballard? I hear you were busy up in Michigan a while back. Something about a corrupted water elemental?”
“Yeah,” I said. “They fucked up the water there really bad, and the thing kind of went berserk. It was killing sewer workers, started coming aboveground to kill people. I took care of it.”
“Good for you, good for you,” Louie said. “So, ahh, I heard you were the Devil’s bitch these days too.”
“How can a guy with no visible ears hear so much shit?” I asked. “I’ve more or less wrapped that bad business up,” I said. “How about you, old bird, how you been?”
“Ah, don’t even get me going!” the crow said. “These youngsters in the murder, I swear to Bran, they’re killing me. I hope I didn’t do all that to my clutch warden when I was a young punk.”
“I suspect you did worse,” I said, “knowing you.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not exactly the guy to be bringing up past behavior, now, are you, Mr. ‘tried to fool around with one of the Corvus noble ladies when he was just a lowly crow’?” Louie made a sound like a toy machine gun; it passed for laughter from him.
“Hey,” I said. “All that class shit aside, she was totally into me.”
I had met Louie years ago, back in my Nightwise days. Sometimes the souls of dead humans are taken in by crows and allowed to be reborn as the birds. Lou was one of these “ghost-born” crows. He had the life span, the brain, and the voice of a man but could interact with either society. Given his unique talents, Lou had become an invaluable agent of both the Nightwise and what passed for nobility in a society full of thieving, practical joking smart-asses, the Corvus Court. I had to become a crow for a time to help a transplanted human soul solve his own murder, and Louie had been a good partner and a good friend during all that. Come to think of it now, looking back, I have more in common with crows than I do people.
“Hey, the Maven know you’re in town?” Lou asked.
“I don’t work for that asshole anymore,” I said. “I don’t have to fucking report in to her. I quit, remember?”
“Fired,” Lou said. “Well, I’m still Nightwise, so she’ll pretty much know soon, my boy.”
“You’d rat me out?”
“Now you’re just being insulting,” Lou said. “I’d crow you out. Hey, the lady has some really good sparklies, and she appreciates my info.” He looked over to the ring still sitting on the ledge. “Unlike some people.”
“You’ll get it eventually,” I said. “How’s the radio gig going?” Lou was the midnight-to-six DJ on KROQ. He’d been doing it for years under various assumed names and with the help of a line of eventually-irritated-beyond-reason human assistants. Not many people outside the Life knew the voice talking to them in between sets of alternative music in the night was not human.
“Meh,” he said. “It’s a living for a bird. I don’t know how the hell the humans who do it get by. It’s all a pain in my ass feathers! I got to renew my FCC license, and that’s a load of bullshit! I got this new kid helping me. He’s a total meat wagon—big, muscled-up, blond surfer. Sexy as fuck, but he’s dumb as a fucking turkey at an NRA convention.”
“Speaking of cute surfers,” I said, “I’m looking for Dwayne, and I’m running out of time…”
“When aren’t you?” Lou said. “I figured you were looking for someone tonight, the way you’ve been blundering all over town.”
“Well, if you were keeping such good tabs on me, then I’m sure you know exactly where he’s at right now,” I said.
“Oh, sure,” Lou said, turning his head sideways to admire the toy ring, then looking back up at me.
“It’s yours,” I said and then dropped my hand down over the ring a second before the crow could grab it with his beak. “Once you tell me where to find Dwayne.”
Lou made the machine gun laugh again. “Okay, okay! He’s over on West Sixty-Ninth.”
“South L.A.,” I said, “over by Figueroa? What the fuck is he doing there?”
“That,” Lou said, “will cost you another pretty.” He gave me the address. I headed for the door to the observation deck, already pulling out the cell phone to call Dragon.
“Thanks, Lou,” I said. “Enjoy the shiny. I may have some more of those for you soon. I’m looking for a missing person.”
“You picked a good city to do that in,” he said. “We’ve got plenty to choose from.” He started to
