I killed him once and for all in a rigged game of Russian roulette. Watched him blow his brains out, and felt just fine about it. After that, I made sure Mason’s soul was exiled in Tartarus, the Hell below Hell, where he was going to spend the rest of eternity alone in darkness.
And I lived happily ever after.
The end.
Okay, the happily-ever-after thing didn’t exactly work out, but the one thing I knew I could count on was never seeing Mason Faim alive again. And now here he is. The universe has a fucked-up sense of humor.
Of course, the lump of meat squirming on the floor isn’t entirely Mason. His real body is long gone in Hell—I made sure of that—so all that existed of him was his soul in Tartarus. It took some massive hoodoo to bust him out and plant the worm in one of the chop-shop bodies. I should have looked closer at Saint Nick’s eyes when we snatched him. Even if the body is all wrong, I can see Mason clear as day, staring at me from his mismatched brown and green peepers.
Still, there’s only one good thing about this moment.
I pull the Colt and point it at his hand.
I get to kill him all over again.
“Stand down, Stark,” shouts Wells.
He pushes my arm out of the way and gets between Mason and me.
“Your presence here is no longer required. Get out of here until we sort this out. You can give me your report in the morning.”
I stand there, just breathing. Mason lies on the floor looking around at the assembled Vigil morons who don’t have a clue about what’s happening but know that it’s really, really bad. Worst of all, no matter what happens after this, Mason knows he’s won the war we’ve been waging for eleven years. Just making it back to Earth and into a skin suit puts him one up on every civilian, Sub Rosa, and angel that’s ever lived. Which doesn’t mean I’m giving up. I sent him Downtown once before and I can do it again. And this time I won’t get fancy with Tartarus or anything else. I’ll kill his body and destroy his soul, wiping him out of existence.
“Stark,” says Julie. “Did you hear Marshal Wells?”
I look at him. He’s still in reach. I could toss him across the room and kill Mason before anyone could stop me and he knows it, but he stays put. Slowly, it sinks in that maybe there’s more to all this than Mason and me. There’s a dozen bodies in a meat locker and around ninety more in an asylum. And how many more that we don’t know about yet? And it’s all tied up with the Angra. Kill Mason so we can’t get any answers and it might be the biggest favor I can do for the end of the world.
I put the Colt away.
Wells nods to his crew.
“Get this thing out of here. Max lockdown. No one talks to him but me.”
They haul Mason to his feet and hustle him away to the cells at the far end of the clubhouse. He hums “Onward, Christian Soldiers” until I can’t hear him anymore.
“Marshal Sola, see Stark out of here, please. When you’re done I’ll take your report in my office.”
“Yes, sir.”
Julie leads me behind some storage crates where there are a lot of deep shadows to leave through.
“Are you going to be all right?” she says.
“I just need to get out of here awhile and think.”
“I’ll probably be here all night, so I can brief you on anything that happens tomorrow. Okay?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
I’m about to step into a shadow when my phone rings. I check the caller ID. It’s Allegra. I hit the talk button.
“How is she?”
I don’t her anything for a minute.
“Allegra? How is she?”
“I don’t know what to say. I was only gone a minute.”
“What’s happened?”
“Candy hadn’t moved, hadn’t changed since you left. I went to the closet for some supplies.”
“Is she alive?”
I must have shouted, because I startle Julie.
“I think so. I’m so sorry. I heard a noise while I was out of the room. When I came back, Fairuza was on the floor and a window was broken. She’s gone, Stark. She’s gone.”
I hang up.
“What’s wrong?” says Julie.
My mind is going a million miles an hour.
“He did this.”
“Saint Nick? What did he do?”
I push past her, pulling the Colt. Julie gets in front of me.
“Stop. Talk to me. What’s happened?”
“Candy is missing, and I know that motherfucker had something to do with it.”
“Then what good is it killing him? Think about it.”
I do. I start for the cells again.
“Stop,” says Julie. “What’s your plan? Kill Saint Nick? Tear up the city looking for Candy so you’ll feel in control? The Vigil has resources you wouldn’t believe. We can find anyone. What do you have besides anger? Be smart for once. Let me handle this. You go home. I’ll call you when we find her.”
I look at her. Is this more Vigil bullshit? Is she on their side or mine?
“Please,” she says. “If you kill him, there’s no coming back. You’ll have the Marshals Service, Homeland Security, and the Vigil after you.”
In my mind I can see Mason’s head exploding. It feels even better than the first time.
Julie says, “I promise you I’ll find her. Give me twelve hours.”
I get out my phone and set a timer.
“Twelve hours. After that, he’s mine and I’ll hurt anyone who gets in my way.”
Julie nods.
“Okay. Let me go talk to Wells and tell him what’s happened.”
I nod and start for a shadow.
“Twelve hours.”
“Don’t come back unless I call you,” she says.
I GO HOME, fire up the Hellion hog, and head out again. But I don’t need a bike. I need a goddamn ark to get around. On some of the side streets off Hollywood and Sunset, the water comes up to the hubs. Even a Hellion bike starts getting pissed off after a while at that kind of thing. The Hellion hog was built for Hell’s heat, not L.A.’s Titanic-on-its-last-legs act. The bike coughs and threatens to tap out a couple of times, but it keeps going. I lose track of time in the empty streets.
Here and there, stop lights work. A single streetlamp glows. Every now and then I see another vehicle in the street. Whenever I do, it veers off onto another street. Looters probably, afraid I’m out scouting for LAPD. Take it all, you soggy bastards. I’d love to know who you’re going to fence it to. There’s something almost comforting in the fact that even at the end of the world, there’s always going to be one guy ready to pick your pocket.
I go by Bamboo House of Dolls first. Then Vidocq and Allegra’s place. Nothing. I call Brigitte. She hasn’t heard from Candy. Where else would she have gone? Maybe to be with other Jades? Do I know any other Jades? Just Rinko, Candy’s ex-girlfriend. I’m the last person on the planet she wants to hear from and the last she’d tell anything to. What an idiot scene this is. Me driving in circles in a monsoon like the Flying fucking Dutchman hoping to spot one lone girl on a million square miles of Southern California roads. It’s my fault and a little Candy’s, I guess. We’re both so closemouthed about our pasts. I keep waiting for her to tell me about the Jade world when she’s ready and she wants me to talk about Doc and that whole mess. Tonight’s lesson, class, is—assuming we live through this—to ask more questions. Man, I hate the sound of that. I just want to go back to the Chateau Marmont, order room service, get drunk together, and break all the furniture in the master bedroom. Is that too much to ask?
After the bike finally stalls a couple of times and the rain is coming down so hard I can’t see more than five feet ahead of me, I turn back for Max Overdrive.
I’m putting on dry clothes when the phone rings. It’s Julie.
“Have you found Candy?”
“Not yet, but we’re following up on leads.”
“Why did you call?”
“Wells wants you to come in. It’s about Saint Nick.”
“Stop calling him that. His name is Mason Faim.”