“I have a feeling you know that.”
“Some. You’ve been making friends with the best of the best. I hear you had high tea with Norris Quay.”
“I ran away from some gunmen into Quay’s arms, if that’s what you mean. The guy was a real piece of work.”
“Isn’t he just? That’s the privilege of being a billionaire.”
“Don’t tell me you’re mixed up with the guy.”
“Not mixed up. He’s just a concerned citizen who wants to do right by his state and his country.”
“Was.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s dead.”
“How?”
“He followed me into Kill City and thought he could buy off all the crazies inside.”
“Damn. He was going to be quite an asset.”
“For what?”
“For the new project. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I want you to come work for me again.”
“ ’Cause it worked out so well the first time?”
“I seem to remember you bringing in your share of rogue magicians and miscreant pixies.”
It’s true. I did some bounty-hunter work for the Golden Vigil a while back. I was at loose ends after killing most of the people involved in Alice’s murder and sending Mason Faim to Hell. I was still pretty full of unfocused rage and needed something to vent it on. Hoodoo fuckups seemed like a good idea at the time. It was while working for Wells that I killed the young vampire Eleanor Vance. Just a dumb teenybopper. Yeah, she tried to burn me with a flamethrower, but in the end, she was just as screwed up as I was.
I say, “Are you going to recruit Aelita for the dream team?”
“No. She’s gone way off the reservation. This holy vendetta of hers, it’s made her useless for any Marshals Service work.”
“I’m glad to hear that. She’s dead too.”
Wells doesn’t say anything for a minute. Once upon a time he was in love with Aelita. That was when she was just a zealot and not a batshit holy terror.
“Did you do it?”
“I wish I could take credit. But I saw it happen and I’m not sorry it did. On a personal note, you’ll be happy to hear that the person who killed her is also dead.”
“Who was it?”
“Medea Bava.”
He laughs.
“They’re both really dead? Where are the bodies?”
“At the bottom of the Pacific.”
Another cold little laugh.
“It’s a funny world, huh?”
“That it is. Now riddle me this, why should I work for you? I’m the one with the Qomrama. Really, you should work for me.”
“But you don’t know how to use the thing, do you? That’s not easy information to come by, even for someone with friends like the Frenchman and Father Traven.”
“Don’t talk about Traven.”
“Oh, so he’s gone too? You’re getting soft. Dead people didn’t used to bother you so much.”
“Well, he had my copy of Cat Ballou and I never got it back.”
“Funny. You’re still a funny guy.”
Candy is giving me a what-the-fuck look. I hold up a hand, telling her to be patient.
“I used the 8 Ball a couple of times, you know. I can figure out how to use it again.”
“Well enough to fight a horde of angry Devil gods?”
I don’t say anything since we both already know the answer.
“Let’s let bygones by bygones. We need each other now. You have the power and I have the infrastructure to fight these unholy bastards coming for our world. Work for the new Golden Vigil. We’re back together and fully funded by Homeland Security.”
“If I say yes, you’re going to pay me.”
“Of course. Same deal as before.”
“Wrong. I have the 8 Ball in my back pocket. I figure that makes me kind of a defense contractor. And I ought to get paid like one, meaning grossly overpaid.”
“There are rules to these things.”
“I’m sick of hearing about everyone else’s rules. Break the rules. You have no idea what getting back the Qomrama cost.”
“You’re going to let that pretty girl of yours die if you can’t blackmail the U.S. government out of a few more dollars?”
“Pay me or you can fight the Angra with pitchforks and torches.”
“How much do you want?”
“Someone offered me a million dollars for it. Match the offer and we’re both yours.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“I’m the weapons guy. Tell them I invented a nuclear water balloon or something.”
“You mean this, don’t you? You’d kill the world for money?”
“The more people like you tell me I can’t have things, the more I want them. And you’re forgetting something.”
“What’s that?”
“I have the key to the Room of Thirteen Doors. My girlfriend that you’re so worried about . . . we can hide in there. God can’t get in there. Lucifer can’t get in there. I bet the Angra can’t either. We can drink champagne in my own little bomb shelter while the rest of you are snacks for demon dogs.”
Wells doesn’t say anything. Candy winks at me. Matthew doesn’t know what the fuck is going on.
“I might be able to do a hundred-thousand-dollar consulting fee.”
“Not even close.”
“One and a half.”
“Nine.”
“Two and a half.”
“Eight.”
“Four.”
“Seven.”
“Five.”
“Six and a half.”
“Five and a half.”
“Deal,” I say.
“I’ll have to confirm with back east.”
“Tell them if anyone tries to lowball me, the Qomrama disappears with me and mine.”
Matthew yells, “Let me talk to the man.”
I put the phone on speaker and hold it out to him.
“Mr. Wells? It’s Matthew.”
“Matthew? You’re still alive? Stark really is getting soft.”
Matthew frowns. He’s not getting the sympathy he was hoping for.
“Listen, Mr. Wells, this psycho set me up. He robbed a drugstore and left my wallet behind.”
“And a gun,” I say.
“A gun? Matt, you know you’re not supposed to be carrying firearms. You just violated your parole.”
“I needed protection. You said you’d take care of me.”
“I said to get in touch with your ex and use her to get to Stark. Not to stalk and terrorize the girl. As far at the Marshal’s Service is concerned, you invalidated the terms of our agreement and we have no further obligation toward you.”
“You can’t hang me out to dry like this,” says Matthew.
“I think he can,” Candy says.
“We’re done, Matthew. Stark, take me off speaker.”
I push the button and put the phone back to my ear.
“It will take me a few days to work things out with Washington on the payment situation.”
“Take your time. It’s only the end of the world. Anyway, you have my number.”
“I sure do, pal.”
“Call me back before the Christmas sales start. I want a new flat-screen for the bedroom.”
“Are you sure you didn’t kill Aelita?”
“I wish I could say yes, but no, I didn’t.”
“Pity. I’d have respected you more if you’d had the wherewithal.”
“That reminds me. If I work with the Vigil, you’ll square me with LAPD, right?”
“If you’ll stop stealing so many goddamn cars.”
“Marshal Wells. I’ve never heard you take the Lord’s name in vain before. Shame on you.”
“You let me worry about me and the Lord.”
“Maybe you can get me a company car. Or maybe you can get the Hellion hog declared street legal.”
“The what?”
“Call me when you have an answer on the money. If things work out, maybe we’ll get to spend the holidays together.”
“Imagine my glee.”
“I’m going to cut this idiot loose now. That okay with you?”
“Do whatever you want with the scumbag.”
“Good night, Marshal.”
The line goes dead.
“Matthew,” I say. “I think you’re about fresh out of friends. If I were you, the first thing I’d think about is getting out of California. Sorry I took your wallet and all your money.”
“I’ll pay you back for this,” he says.