The Perdition Score. Richard Kadrey
“Looking at my watch.”
“You don’t have a watch. You barely have socks.”
“I’m supposed to be hinting about the time. Julie’s request.”
“Oh.”
Candy glances at Julie’s office.
“I guess I lost track of time.”
“It’s cool,” says Alessa. “I don’t want to get you in trouble with your boss.”
She gets up. Candy comes from around the desk and gives her a hug.
“Call me tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Let’s figure out a time to get the whole band together.”
“Great.”
Alessa tosses her noodles into the trash and heads for the stairs.
“See you around, Stark.”
I give her a wave.
“You too.”
Candy comes over and kisses me hard.
“Isn’t this the best thing ever? We might be an actual band with an actual guitarist.”
“You’re a guitarist.”
“I’m a guitar player. I know three chords. Alessa is a guitarist. Big difference.”
“Well, I hope it all works out and you get to work together.”
“Me too.”
“You need a ride home?”
She shakes her head.
“I have tons of reports and paperwork to do. I’ll be here late.”
“Okay. I might stop by Bamboo House myself. I’ll see you at home.”
She sits down at her desk.
“Tell Carlos hi for me.”
“I will.”
I start for the stairs and she blows me a kiss. I wink at her.
I head for the Catalina parked around the corner and see Alessa smoking a cigarette on the corner. She turns and sees me.
“You need a ride or something?” I say.
“No thanks. I have a cab coming.”
“Okay. Chihiro is pretty excited about working with you. I haven’t seen her this happy in a while.”
“Chihiro’s cool. And her band is all right. I can work with them.”
“Good luck. They’re a handful.”
She takes a drag on her cigarette, blows out the smoke.
“So am I.”
“I don’t doubt it. Well, I’ll see you around.”
“Good night.”
I go back to the Catalina and get in. Candy is working late. My head is mostly better, but not one hundred percent. I can get drugs for it or I can do the other thing. A stab of guilt gets me in the gut. I don’t like keeping secrets, especially from Candy, but I don’t know if she’d understand this and I need it right now. Just until I can get myself together again. I’ll stop by Bamboo House later and bring home some food so the evening won’t be a total lie.
In the rearview mirror, I watch Alessa get into a cab. It swings around and its headlights reflect into my eyes. Icepicks again.
That settles it. I start the car and wait for whoever is hiding in the backseat to do something. When they don’t, I pull out and head south.
About two blocks on, I hear a moan and pull over into the parking lot of a Spanish Evangelical church. I don’t say anything, waiting for the moaner—it sure sounded like a guy—to show himself. He doesn’t and I slip the black blade out of my coat.
“Anytime now, sunshine. Kill me or get out.”
Someone rustles around and slowly sits up. I turn halfway in my seat.
He’s pale. Thin. Unshaven. Three days or more. He doesn’t smell that great either. He leans against the side of the door where his face falls into line with the blinking sign in front of a bodega. There he is, yellow one second, then swallowed in black the next.
“How long did you know?” he says.
I hear it in his voice. Now that I’m looking for it, I can smell it under his stink. “Fuck me. You’re an angel.”
He purses his lips, half smiling and half embarrassed.
“Guilty as charged.”
“Get out.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m a nephilim, pal. Half angel and half pissed off. I knew you were there the whole time, but I was waiting for you to do something interesting.”
“Why not attack when you saw me?”
“I was bored.”
“You wanted me to attack you.”
“That would have been more fun than this.”
The angel shakes his head.
“You’re not what I was expecting.”
“How’s that?”
“I came looking for an Abomination. A monster that acts violently on instinct.”
“You came looking for Sandman Slim.”
“Does he still exist?”
I take a pack of Maledictions from my pocket, tap one out, light it, and blow toxic smoke rings in his direction.
“If you came looking for Jack the Ripper, you came a couple of months too late. I’m a solid citizen now. Got a job. Eat my vegetables. Hell, I didn’t even steal this car.”
“I came here for … would you mind rolling down a window?” he says.
“Sure. How rude of me.”
I roll down the driver’s side, letting the fogbank drift away to kill the weeds in the parking lot. Whoever he is in the back seems harmless enough, but I keep my knife ready.
“What was it you were saying?”
He coughs a couple of times. Winces. Drops his weight back against the seat and looks at his hand. There’s blood there.
“If you’re going to bleed to death, please don’t get it on the upholstery. I just had it cleaned.”
He points a bloody finger at me.
“That’s more who I came looking for.”
“For what?”
He’s wearing a dirty trench coat. It looks new, but also like it’s been dragged behind a car. Sort of like the angel himself.
“Who are you?” I ask him.
“Karael. I came a long way to find you.”
“Why?”
He reaches into his dirty coat and I get the black blade ready. From an inside pocket, he pulls out a small ornate box. He leans forward to hand it to me, then falls back against the seat.
“Have you ever seen one of these before?” he says.
I glance at the box.
“It’s very pretty. If it’s a hope chest, you’re one depressed fuck.”
“Look closer.”
I hold it up to the light coming in from the parking lot lights. The box is lacquered black wood rimmed with gold and ornate flourishes that I