Richard Kadrey - Killing Pretty

“You hungry?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “My stomach hurts.”

“You shouldn’t take pills on an empty stomach. Let’s order some food,” says Candy.

I toss Death a black hoodie to wear over the T-­shirt. Candy helps him put it on. I look at her looking at him. She’s not scared of him. Another one of the things I like about her. I put out the Malediction. No reason to torment the poor slob.

I say, “You like Thai food?”

“I don’t know,” he says.

“Let’s find out.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll get everything mild,” says Candy.

He looks up at the big screen.

“Can I watch something else? Something where ­people speak?”

“We might have one or two of those. What do you think, Kas?”

“No action movies. Nothing with guns or explosions. I don’t want him getting ideas.”

Death zips the hoodie, then looks at Kasabian.

“We’ve met before,” says Death.

I smile in Kasabian’s direction.

“That’s right. He blew his dumb ass up.”

“Lucifer was the one who brought you back, wasn’t he? I like him. He has a funny sense of humor.”

“Tell me about it,” Kasabian says.

“Maybe cartoons?” says Candy.

Kas raises his eyebrows.

“Some of your fucking anime with monsters and robots? I don’t think so.”

“What about a musical?” Candy says.

Death looks from her to me.

“You like music?” I ask.

“Oh, yes.”

Kasabian says, “Okay. Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly?”

“Definitely Gene Kelly,” Candy says. “He’s the sexy one.”

“Singin’ in the Rain?”

I pick up the rest of my clothes.

“Can’t go wrong with a classic. We’re going upstairs to call for food. You need anything?”

Death shakes his head.

“No. Thank you.”

Candy and I head to our place. Kasabian follows us halfway up the stairs.

“Don’t leave me alone with him.”

“Relax,” I tell him. “Get him a chair. Give him a donut or whatever else you have stashed behind the counter. Put the movie on and play nice. We’ll be in earshot.”

“How are you going to pay for the food? We haven’t rented much since Mr. Charisma got here.”

“As it happens, I helped a guy with his wallet and some of his cash fell into my pocket. He’s a whiner and he’ll overbill the agency, so it will all balance out in the end.”

“What do you want when we order?” says Candy.

“Green curry with pork. Extra spicy. None of the baby food you’re feeding him.”

We start up again.

Kasabian stares downstairs and says, “Stark. What if you help this guy and he, you know, calls us in? I mean, we were dead. What if he wants to make it permanent?”

“Then I’ll kill him and we can all go to Hell together.”

“That’s a fucking comfort,” he says. Then, “I want some of those fried shrimp rolls too.”

We go upstairs. A minute later the overture to the movie starts.

When we’re alone, Candy laughs.

“You finally bring me back here and there’s Death waiting for us with his cock hanging out. You know how to make a girl feel at home.”

“Did you really expect a normal homecoming?”

She flops onto the sofa.

“Never. I’m drunk and hungry. Order me some food, garçon.”

“Hold your horses, Calamity Jane.”

She leans her head back on the sofa and says, “Shit. Should we call Julie now that he’s awake?”

I drop my clothes in a pile on the closet floor. There’s an envelope lying on the bed. I bring it with me back to the living room.

“Let the man eat. Between the pills and the food, my guess is he’ll pass out again. Julie can wait until tomorrow.”

“Good. All I want to do is eat and fuck and go to sleep.”

“I have that on my business card.”

“Find the menu. Dial quickly. I’m going to pass out here for a minute.”

She curls up on the sofa and I toss a blanket over her.

The menus are in a drawer by the sink. I call in the order and open the envelope. Crisp paper falls out onto the floor. Heavy, expensive stationery—­Sub Rosa–grade stuff. Sure enough, it’s from the Augur’s office. Looks like I’m invited to tea with the grand high lord and master of the whole California tribe. Thing is, I’m done with the Sub Rosa and don’t have any interest in who’s running the show now.

I wad up the note and envelope and toss them in the trash.

DEATH IS WATCHING another movie when we go down in the morning. Duck Soup starring the Marx Brothers. Kasabian comes over as quietly as he can.

“He’s been at it all night. I’m fucking beat. It’s your turn to babysit.”

“What have you been showing him?”

“More musicals. Mary Poppins. My Fair Lady. Some Disney cartoons.”

“Shiny happy ­people stuff.”

“Like I said, I don’t want him getting ideas.”

“Go to bed. We’ll take the morning shift.”

Kasabian slinks back to his room, right next to the storage room where our guest sleeps.

“Good night, Kasabian,” he says. “Thank you for sitting up with me.”

“Sure. Glad to. Anytime.”

He closes and locks his door.

“Are you hungry?” says Candy.

Death turns away from the movie long enough to look at her.

“Yes, I am.”

“I’ll bring down the leftovers.”

I head back upstairs.

Julie calls while I’m in the kitchen. I tell her Death is awake and she should come over if she wants Thai food.

“For breakfast?”

“It’s this or the last of Kasabian’s donuts, and those have been around since ‘Steamboat Willie.’ ”

“I’ll pass on the food, but I’ll be right over.”

I thumb off the phone, get the food out of the microwave, and head downstairs with some plates. Candy clears all the crap from the top of the rental counter and puts it underneath. I set down the cartons and Candy digs in.

Death sticks his fork in each dish and sniffs. Touches the food to the tip of his tongue. I don’t think he’s gotten the hang of having human senses.

I pick at a ­couple of things, wanting coffee and a smoke more than curry. Julie arrives about twenty minutes later with a large messenger bag over her shoulder. Death straightens up and puts out his hand when he sees her.

“Hello. I’m Death,” he says.

Julie gives her best professional smile and shakes his hand.

“Yes. We met briefly at the bar where you found Stark. You look a lot better now than you did then.”

“I feel a lot better. Stark and his friends have been taking good care of me.”

He looks at Candy.

“I’m still not sure what I should call you. You have two faces and apparently two names. Which do you prefer?”

“Look at either face you want, but please, call me Chihiro.”

“Then Chihiro it is.”

“Thanks for recording the interview,” Julie says to Candy. “It was a good start.”

“Glad to be part of the team, chief,” Candy says.

Julie opens her bag, then looks at me.

“You were interested in the knife. Did you find out anything about it?”

I fill her in on what happened with Vidocq’s experiment and Marlowe’s reading.

“Have you ever seen that happen before?”

“Never.”

“All right. We’ll set the knife aside for now and concentrate on other areas. At least we have a starting point with our visitor’s identity.”

“We do?” says Candy.

­“People still aren’t dying. Religious groups are up in arms, some calling it the end of days. There have been runs on grocery stores and banks. Hell, the president gave an address about it last night, saying the government is conferring with our allies to make sure this isn’t a terrorist act. This has been all over the Web and TV since it started happening.”