Part 14 (1/2)

Nor was there any need to find out. When I found the Light, I wanted a virtual crowd around me. Demons, angels, humans. Whatever it took to muddy the waters. If they were preoccupied with one another, they wouldn't be concentrating on me. If Eli showed up with the price I was charging for the Light, if Solomon showed up to demonstrate what side he was really on-angels, demons, humans-it was going to be one ma.s.sive brawl.

Finally, after all these years, Kimano could rest. I could rest.

As for Heaven, h.e.l.l, and Earth . . . let the pieces fall where they may.

My way.

I looked at Griffin and he wrapped his fingers around Zeke's wrist. He didn't say ”Safety on” to halt Zeke, but I imagine he thought it loudly enough that Zeke heard it in his mind. He had to have because he growled and moved away from them all, not showing them his vulnerable back once. Lenore had flown back to his shoulder with a shred of anchovy in his beak and was eyeing the angels with suspicious, beady eyes. He swallowed the bit of fish and squawked at the angels, ”Whom the angels named Lenore.” But these angels hadn't named Lenore. He had more or less named himself, and he definitely didn't consider himself birds of a feather with them. ”Nevermore. Nevermore,” he hissed with dark emphasis. That the angels didn't give him a second glance was their mistake, a huge one. Forgive me if I didn't bring it to their attention.

We waited a few more hours. What I had to do might be better done in the dark with no tourists around. Better safe than sorry. It gave me a chance to get the rest of the plaster dust out of my hair and pull it up in a twist with loose curls springing everywhere. It also let me brush my teeth free of garlic, because offending Trinity wasn't worth offending myself and half the city to boot. I didn't bother with makeup this time. If I was going to wear war paint at the end of this day, it would be made of blood. But hopefully we'd get past this last bread crumb without a fight. Don't get me wrong. There would be a fight, but I wanted it at the end . . . when I claimed the Light. When everyone tried to buy it from me or take it from me.

Then there would be blood.

Finally we left, and ”finally” truly was the word for it. Except for Griffin, Zeke, and Lenore, the company wasn't entertaining. The angels and their servants didn't play pool or darts. Or talk. Or do much other than blink balefully at us (that would be Goodman), coldly (Trinity), and not at all (the angels). It made my eyes water to watch the latter; unmoving, unblinking, they were like silver and marble statues, nothing like Malibu Angel from Wilbur 's place. I don't think they even breathed-although in human form they would have to. At least, I thought they would.

Zeke spent his time gathering up weapons, some of his that he kept here and some of mine. Since he seemed to have enough for Griffin and me as well as him, including three shotguns, I stuck with my Smith. I did make sure to slip several speed loaders in my messenger bag just in case. I expected Trinity or at least Goodman to protest, but they didn't. I guess having three s.h.i.+ning warriors of Heaven on your side evened the odds and then some from their point of view.

Rhyolite was about two and a half to three hours north of Vegas, taking U.S. 95. There were ten of us. We took three cars-mine, held together by once-s.h.i.+ny red paint and sheer hope, and two of the Eden House cars, big, black, and official looking. ”Why aren't they white?” I asked Griffin, who sat beside me in the pa.s.senger seat. ”Isn't white all that is holy and good? Pearly gates? Fluffy-white-cloud cities?”

”Too hard to keep clean with all the dust and sand,” he grunted, sliding down and pus.h.i.+ng the seat back to close his eyes. ”And demon blood.”

”So cleanliness is better than G.o.dliness, not just next to it? The things you learn.” I looked at the brown-gold skin of my hands on the steering wheel and grinned. ”And pure white isn't all that. I could've told you.”

”I was born pasty. It's not my fault,” Zeke grumbled from the backseat.

I reached back with one hand and smoothed his copper hair. ”No, sugar, none of this has ever been your fault.”

He looked confused for a moment, then did what Zeke did best with confusion-he ignored it. ”What are you going to do with the Light when you get it?”

”More to the point, do you think either side will let you keep it or choose whom to give it to?” Griffin murmured, his eyes still shut, obviously still wiped from the night before. Emotionally and physically. The death of so many comrades. That was triply hard on an empath as it was on the rest of us. ”It's going to be a ma.s.sacre.”

”Yes, indeed it is.” My grin tightened to something with very little humor. I put my sungla.s.ses on and ramped the speed up to ninety.

”Sounds fun,” Zeke said seriously. ”Can I kill Trinity then?”

”Kit, when the time comes, you can kill anyone you want,” I promised. Griffin opened his eyes and shot me a questioning glance, but I didn't answer. When it was time, he'd see-see if he'd still serve Heaven or serve anyone but Zeke and himself. I wasn't the only one whose life was going to change. He and Zeke were going to have to make a choice, and I had to say I was really curious to know the way they were going to go. Maybe even worried. You try and raise them right, but in the end, they have to make their own way. Make their own decisions. I shook my head.

Kids.

Chapter 14.

Rhyolite was a few miles from a tiny town called Beatty. I stopped there at a little gas station. I didn't need gas, but I was thirsty and a candy bar wouldn't kill me. Mainly, though, it was to irk the rest of the wagon train behind us. There was a bigger place, the Death Valley Nut and Candy Company on the north end of town, but they were so big, bright, and s.h.i.+ny that I figured they had all the business they needed. I liked giving my business to someone who actually could use it, and this ramshackle place looked like it could use all the help it could get.

I got out of the car and headed in, smiling at the actual rusty ding of a bell overhead. Didn't hear that much anymore. I touched a dreamcatcher hanging from the ceiling and gave it a gentle push. Inside, an American Indian teenager slouched over the counter, thumbing slowly through a magazine. He had short black hair, copper skin, and a long-sleeved T-s.h.i.+rt that used to be black but now was faded gray. ”What you want?” he said, with such incredible boredom that I was amazed he could keep his heart pumping from the sheer weight of the tedium of it all.

”Food, water, peace on Earth.” I spread my arms, braced my hands on the counter, and gave him a big smile as a reference point. ”And service with a smile maybe?”

He looked up when he heard my voice . . . female-ding . . . and smiled back. Smirked, rather-a genuine, h.o.r.n.y sixteen-year-old smirk. I might have pa.s.sed the big three-O, but I still had it. I laughed at myself-which is some of the very best laughter there is. ”I've got more than a smile for-” A dark wrinkled hand smacked the back of his head hard. His grandfather or great-grandfather stepped up beside him.

”You show respect, Aaron. You show it to every visitor. You never know who might walk through our door.” With iron gray hair streaked with white and tied back into a long ponytail, the man bowed his head. ”I apologize for my grandson's slothful, rude ways. I am Samuel Blackhawk. Welcome.”

By this time, Griffin and Zeke were wandering the whole two aisles of the store and Trinity and his men stood behind me. I gave Trinity and the others a dismissive look over my shoulder. ”I'm hungry. So wait here or wait in the car. Up to you.” Then I turned my attention back to Samuel Blackhawk and held out my hand. He hesitated for a second, then took it with exquisite care.

”Your eyes-I remember them.” His own dark eyes flickered. ”You are beautiful. You are terrifying.”

”And you're a wise man with a silver tongue and one who knows how to treat a lady.” I gripped his hand. Because I wasn't beautiful in the physical sense. My mixture of races made me striking, unusual, and definitely eye-catching. I was happier with that. Why be beautiful like so many when you can be uncommon? When you can stand out like the single exotic glow of a garnet in a field of tacky gold? As for terrifying, there were some demons and others on my s.h.i.+t list that could testify to that too. ”Samuel Blackhawk, I would like three bottles of water and six candy bars. What would you like?” I released his hand and held up a finger as he began to demur. ”I like you, Samuel, and I want to give you a present. And those men behind me with sour faces and even more sour dispositions are going to pay for it. Now, what would you like?”

He smiled then, showing one missing tooth at the bottom, and the look he gave Trinity and his crew wasn't the respectful one he gave me. ”A truck. I would like a new truck. Mine only runs when it rains.” Which out here was to say never.

I turned, pushed up, and sat on the counter. ”Well? Someone go buy Mr. Blackhawk a truck. It's a small town, but I'm sure someone has something for sale.” They didn't move. Neither did I, other than to examine my nails. I kept them short, but the bronze was still chipping. Considering the week I'd had, I wasn't surprised. I'd gone with the red first, but, no, the bronze was better, I thought. In fact . . .

”The Light,” Trinity said tightly.

I raised my eyes. Who was pulling whose leash now? ”When we have the truck.”

He could have shot me. He wanted to, I knew. But there were Griffin and Zeke and civilians. He wasn't running the show anymore, not that he would admit it. He turned, back straight, and left the store to confer with his men. Thirty minutes later Samuel had his new truck. It was big, desert worthy, and a dark metallic green. I frowned, but took the keys from Goodman's stiff fingers and handed them to Samuel.

”Paint it red,” I said. ”Red is my color. Red is good luck. Red will always bring you good luck.”

He nodded instantly. ”I will.”

The teenager, Aaron, protested, ”But that's a cool-a.s.s green. Why should we-” He received another smack on the back of the head.

I took the bag of water and sugar and started back toward the door. I gave one last smile over my shoulder. ”I liked you, Samuel Blackhawk. I still do.”

Outside it was full dark and it seemed as if the stars should've been dancing as the cool wind blew through. ”I thought you said you'd never been to Rhyolite,” Griffin said.

It was true. I'd mentioned it in the car. ”I haven't, but I've traveled around the desert. Just because I didn't stop at a tourist trap ghost town doesn't mean I don't know where the good-looking men are.” I winked back at the door where Samuel stood and waved. Back on the road, we headed west to the ghost town, and Zeke ate all our candy bars.

”Killing takes a lot of energy. Sugar gives you energy,” he said as he avoided Griffin's grab at the last bar.

”So killing and sugar go hand in hand? Is that what you're saying?” Griffin snorted.

”That is what I'm saying,” came the answer, without a shred of doubt. Lenny, sitting on the top of the backseat, leaned closer and reached for a nut with his black beak. Zeke, who'd just denied one of the most prolific demon killers other than himself the chocolate bar, hesitated, then let him pick out a peanut and crunch placidly on it.

”Zeke, swear to G.o.d. You're not afraid of a demon, but you're afraid of a bird. I have so lost any respect I ever had for you.” Griffin shook his head and swiveled to face the winds.h.i.+eld again.

”No, you haven't.” Unconcerned, Zeke finished the chocolate.

”And how do you know that?” Griffin fiddled with the radio before shutting it off ”If you had, you would've shot me and taken the candy bar.”

The side of Griffin's mouth curled. ”True.”

”This is all entertaining,” and it was, ”but I'm hoping we can go for no killing tonight. I want to find the Light itself before any moves are made. This isn't the Light, only the last step before we get there. So be good boys. Don't kill the jacka.s.ses.”

”Which is everyone in this convoy but us?”