“Hell yeah!” one of the boys from Scout’s class yelled.
A couple people nodded. Someone near the back of the crowd clapped.
Dodge stepped forward again. “Uh, I think maybe now would be a good time to pray. I know I’m not exactly a saint and I don’t do much more than lead the Sunday service, but since—” He nodded at me. “—since Tough can’t pray out loud anymore, or at all I guess, I will. Anybody who wants to can join in. Anybody who doesn’t want to or is offended at me suggesting it is welcome to fuck off.”
That got some laughs. Everybody circled up. A few grabbed hands. Then a few more.
Clarion and his packs came over. “Would it be all right if we joined in?”
“Sure,” Dodge said. “Plenty of you guys are dying tonight, too.”
More laughs. Even I smirked.
Dodge took off his hat and looked around to see if everybody was ready. And since I wasn’t ready and never would be again, I took Dodge’s suggestion and fucked off. After a couple seconds, Lonely followed me.
Upstairs, I grabbed a 12-gauge and that box of armor-piercing incendiary rounds I’d seen earlier. We’d never had any of these come through the arsenal back when I was still hanging around. Which was probably for the best. Ryder would’ve had way too much fun with those.
Lonely smirked at my train of thought. “Point away from yourself. You’re a mite more flammable than you used to be.”
I nodded. I wasn’t looking to spend any more time burning than I had to. I loaded the tube. It took eight rounds. If I survived long enough to run through those, I would probably get staked before I could reload, but I stuck a handful of shells in each pocket anyway. Better safe than sorry.
That made me laugh. Probably the first and the last time I would ever think that.
Lonely cocked his head at me. “You want to know why crows follow the shiny ones?”
Sure, why not?
“The entertainment value.”
I snorted. If you like this, you’re going to love my next trick.
Lonely threw his head back and cackled.
“Try not to get yourself staked, tarnished one,” he said.
Yeah. Hey, do me a favor. There’s someone I don’t want going to the Dark Mansion tonight.
He raised a metal-studded eyebrow. “Who?”
Willow Bue. Distract her, drug her, do that paralyzing trick. I don’t care what you do, just keep her away.
Tempie
One more time, I begged Kathan.
He pressed his ear to the spot just under my bellybutton and listened for several seconds.
The seed’s already taken, he said.
Not for that, I said. For me. I know what’s going to happen when Desty and I become the Destroyer. I know it’s not going to be like this anymore.
He didn’t deny it.
What seemed like long minutes passed with only the touch of our bodies. This time, he didn’t pull me into his mind. More than anything, I wanted to be shattered into those thousand pieces and feel my loathsome self burned away, but I didn’t ask and he didn’t offer.
When it was over, I hugged myself to his chest. Don’t go marching off to war, Johnny.
You’ve always been honest with me, Kathan. You’ve never hidden anything from me.
Are you asking now?
No. I know how you work.
You’re speaking of that old “fallen angels use the truth to lie” axiom.
Better than using a lie to lie, I said. I respect you for it. And I respect that you’re the same all the time. You never change. I think that’s what I like the most about fallen angels. Whatever they were yesterday, they are today, too. If something makes you angry once, it always makes you angry. If something makes you happy once, it always makes you happy.
Constant, Kathan said. That’s called being constant.
Yeah. You’re constant. Humans…they might say they hate something today and tomorrow you find them screwing it out behind the barn.
Temperance, you’re not some fickle whore. I couldn’t have stomached you for this long if you were. Your devotion is constant. Your fury is constant.
No, I said. It was gone sometimes. Really gone. Sometimes…sometimes you made me feel so good…sometimes you almost made me believe that I deserved to feel good.
Silence seeped back into the room and we put it to good use. I was panting and soaked with sweat when it was over, but Kathan wasn’t even breathing hard. He wiped the wet hair out of my eyes and kissed my forehead.
Your anger is a gift, he said.
He was right. But the tag on that present didn’t say “To: Tempie.” No, scrawled in fat black Sharpie on the wrapping paper was the name KATHAN and the instructions FRONT TOWARD ENEMY.
Tough
The first place I went after I left the
