The Sandman Slim Series Books 1-4. Richard Kadrey

The Sandman Slim Series Books 1-4 - Richard  Kadrey


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guy. Okay. Are you fooling around with stuff over there that’s going to make this girl’s condition more complicated? Any potions or herbs related to necromancy? Are you playing with any resurrection rituals?”

      “Never.”

      “Okay. But you come in here with an injured girl and tell me that some magic part of a guy that you don’t want to talk about gets stolen and I start thinking zombies. And that is some serious stuff.”

      “It’s nothing like that. The guy wasn’t dead. I was real careful about that.”

      “So careful this girl’s skull is cracked.”

      “Can you fix her?”

      “I’ve fixed worse.” He looks over at Candy. “You want to get me the things, honey? I want to make sure this girl is all the way dozing before I take my hand off.”

      “How many do you want?”

      “I think six should do it.”

      Candy gets six fist-size objects from an old medical cabinet. Each of the objects is wrapped in dark purple silk. She sets them on the exam table next to Allegra and unwraps them. They’re six shiny pieces of some milky-white stone.

      Kinski lets go of Allegra, takes two of the stones, and places them on each side of her head. Candy places others over her heart and in her hands. Kinski puts the last piece, the smallest and nearly flat, between Allegra’s teeth.

      He gets old, unglazed clay jars from under the table, pours several oils onto his hands, rubs them together to mix them, then smears the dark potion on Allegra’s face. The oils smell like jasmine and wet pavement after a rain.

      Candy gives Kinksi a carved wooden stylus and he draws symbols, strange letters, and runes into the oil. I lean in to get a better look at the markings. He’s drawing a spell on her, but I don’t know what kind. I’ve never seen one like it before. I recognize the characters surrounding the central circle and seven-pointed star, however. The symbols are an old angelic script. Enochian. Azazel taught me some spells from ancient books written in that script. Kinski can’t be a Hellion because only Lucifer can walk out of Hell. But Hellions have plenty of human lapdogs. Lurker groupies and satanic assholes. Kinski can’t be one, though. Vidocq would know and he’d never send me to the guy. Still. I slip my hand under my coat and touch Azazel’s knife.

      Kinski sets down the stylus. He’s finished the spell and the stones around Allegra begin to glow. They shine right through her. I can see the outline of her veins and arteries, muscles and bones, and her beating heart. Kinski is chanting quietly. I try to listen to the words, but all I want to do is cover my eyes. I put one arm over my face and get hold of the knife with my other hand.

      I can feel someone pressing against me from behind. It’s Candy. She leans against me and lightly touches my arm, the one holding the knife.

      “It’s okay,” she whispers. “Relax. Everything’s going to be okay.”

      Her voice is like honey and heroin. Sweet and sleepy. My shoulders unknot. My legs get weak. My whole body relaxes. But I don’t let go of the knife.

      The stones’ light fades suddenly. The room is back to normal. I turn, expecting to see Candy behind me, but she’s over by the table, helping Kinski wrap the stones in silk and put them back in the cabinet. He pushes up each of Allegra’s eyelids and takes her pulse like a regular doctor.

      “She’s going to need to rest awhile before she can be moved. Candy, can you stay with her? I want to speak to this young man.”

      “Sure, hon.”

      I follow Kinski out through the waiting room to the parking lot.

      “You have any cigarettes? I’m out,” he says.

      I hold out the pack for him to take one. Light it for him. He looks older and more tired under the streetlights.

      “So, you’re Eugène’s fair-haired boy.”

      “And you’re his Florence Nightingale. Nice light show back there.”

      “It gets the job done.”

      “Nice office, too. Did you get that stuff at one garage sale or did you shop around?”

      “Eugène said you had a mouth on you.”

      “Look, thanks for what you did back there, but what do you want? I’m expecting to see a hospital or a clinic and I walk into a peepshow booth full of stuff that fell off a garbage truck.”

      He chuckles. “Yeah, sometimes I think we might take the humble-healer thing too far.”

      “Is Allegra going to be all right?”

      “She’ll be fine. Her head’s probably going to hurt for a day or two. It’s not the injury, it’s just something that happens to civilians when you blast their bones back together like that.”

      “It’s my fault she’s hurt.”

      “I assumed that. Eugène said there were some ugly people looking for you. Guess they found her instead.”

      “I’m going to find them. And no one’s going to blast their bones back together.”

      “You take care of that girl in there first. You might be hell on two legs, but she needs taking care of. Throw a sheltering spell on her. Get Eugène to give her some protection charms.”

      “I should have done that when I first moved into the store.”

      “You fucked up. So fix it. Here.”

      He pulls a pencil-size piece of lead from his side pocket and puts it in my hand.

      “Now you don’t have any excuse. You can draw the circle and do any spell you want.”

      “I haven’t done that kind of magic in a long time.”

      “What kind of magic have you been doing?”

      “Killing things, mostly.”

      “That’ll make you friends. Try a shielding spell later. Maybe having the lead in your hand will trigger some muscle memory and it’ll come back to you. If you can’t make it work, call me. I’ll talk you through it.”

      “Okay.”

      “You should call me anyway. Let me take those bullets out of you. Five, isn’t it? Maybe they won’t kill you, but they can still cause an infection.”

      “If they do, you can just fix me with your rocks.”

      “Rocks? Oh. Those. No. Those are glass.”

      “I’ve never even heard of glass like that.”

      “That doesn’t surprise me. Those are some of the rarest objects in existence. I don’t suppose you’d let me take those slugs out tonight?”

      “No thanks. Maybe when I’m done.”

      “That’s what I figured.”

      Kinski flicks the remains of his cigarette out into the dark lot and looks at his watch. “Your young lady is probably back on her feet by now.”

      “What do I owe you?”

      Kinski shakes his head. “We’ll settle up when you let me take out those bullets. And listen: Candy gets kind of pissy when unexpected calls come late at night. Her people get twitchy after dark. But she gets over it. You have any problems, you need anything and Eugène can’t help, you call me.”

      “You don’t even know me. Why would you do that?”

      “I was young and reckless and stupid once, too. Maybe between Eugène and me, we can keep you alive long enough to wise up.”

      “What did you do that was so reckless and stupid?”

      “I’ll tell you that when you let me get those bullets.”

      “I


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