by Phil Tucker
Selah stepped back. The photographs were Fernanda’s. They showed Selah killing the Colonel. Clear, stark shots of her face. But nobody had connected the figure in the photographs to her—they were all accusing Arachne. Which had, no doubt, been what Louis had planned all along. Selah’s mind spun. Did he want to end the Treaty? Or was he just trying to take down his main rival in the Blood Dust trade?
Chico stepped into the room with Armando right behind him. The gang leader’s presence filled the small space like a furnace fills a basement with heat. He placed his hands on his hips and considered her.
“Chico says you’re gonna turn into a vampire tonight and kill me some Culebras. That right?” Selah nodded, still stunned by the news she had read. “Good,” said Armando. “How many you think you can kill?”
“How many? I don’t know.”
“One? Two? Ten? All of them?”
Selah decided to ignore him. “Chico, you read the news?” Selah pointed at the Omni. “The military, they want to attack LA.”
“What?” Armando looked from Selah to Chico. “Attack LA?”
“No, no,” said Chico. “They’re not going to attack anything. A colonel got killed. By Arachne …” He trailed off, and suddenly looked speculatively at Selah. “And they’re demanding her head. Just like they always do when these things go national. I’m sure the vampires will hand her over, and everything will simmer down like it always does.”
“Oh,” said Armando, dismissing it. He rubbed his jaw roughly and then turned his attention back to Selah. “Your trip into the Core. Didn’t work out, did it.”
Selah shook her head.
“You see Louis in there?”
“Yes.”
“And? He say anything about me?”
“No.” Armando’s face was taut, tense like a sail under a full wind, his eyes searching her
face with quick darts. “I think he’s got bigger things going on.”
Armando pursed his lips and nodded. “Look. I don’t know how much longer we can hold on here. My men, well. They’re starting to lose faith. Faith in me. And I can’t blame them.” He held up his hand, cutting Chico off. “I don’t blame them. I was a fool. I believed that this world could be different. Now I know. It can’t. I’m sending my people to find Louis and tell them that the Dust trade is back on. I just got to hold on till the money starts coming back through.”
This was clearly news to Chico, who stood there with his mouth open. Selah held Armando’s heavy lidded eyes, and shook her head. “That’s not going to work.”
“What do you mean, ‘not going to work’? I’ll do the dealing for half what I did before.”
“Louis has gone to ground. I nearly killed him last night, and his gang’s quit Huntington Garden. Your men won’t be able to find him in time.”
Armando’s eyes widened. “You gave Louis a beat down?”
“And think about it. Louis doesn’t care who deals his Dust. You, Machado’s replacement–he just doesn’t care. The only person who does is Machado. And he’s decided you’re out. He’s declared war on you. He won’t let you off the hook now.”
Armando tongued his lower lip, making it bulge out, and then gritted his jaw. His eyes were gleaming dangerously. “So what. You saying I got to lie down and die?”
“No,” said Selah. “I’m not. You got me. The Culebras only got Machado. Put the word out that a whole new vampire gang has got your back. Or better yet, tell everybody that Arachne herself is going to sell you Dust. I’ll go out there tonight and give them proof.”
“But Arachne’s not going to give me shit.”
Chico stepped forward. “But… nobody around here knows that. Even Machado won’t be sure. He’ll have to go check with her, and with the military wanting her head, odds are he won’t be able to find her.”
“Exactly.” Selah grinned. “So tonight I go out there and scare them all out of your territory. Tomorrow, they’ll be confused and terrified about fighting vampires, and they’ll wait for Machado to check things out. That should buy you a couple of days. Chico, you get your people in here as soon as you can. Tell them there’s been a cease fire. If we act fast, maybe we can get things back on track. Maybe we can get the military in here before Machado figures out he’s been had.”
Armando and Chico stood there in silence, and then Armando let out one of his belly laughs, a loud bark of sound that he accompanied with a clap of his meaty palms. “Chico! This girl’s worth her weight in Dust!” Without looking he punched Chico in the shoulder and set him staggering. “Selah. You’ll do this? You think it will work?”
Armando’s grin was fierce, wild, desperate. Would it work? Selah had no idea. Yet if tonight was to be her final night, if she was to turn into a vampire, then why couldn’t she still try to help out? Why couldn’t she try to find some silver lining to her own damnation? “Sure,” she said. “Why not?” “Chico?” Armando looked to him. “You think you can get your people ready?”
“I—sure. I can call them. Tell them that tomorrow will be clear. But. Selah—do you think, I mean—you believe you can scare all of the Culebras into backing off?”
Selah closed her eyes and nodded. Deep within her, something tainted rejoiced at the prospect of more violence. Sanctioned violence. Violence for a good cause. “I know I can.”
“Fuckin’ A,” said Armando. “All right. I’m going to put the word out. Hell, maybe we’ll get out of this after all.” He turned and strode out, already calling out orders to the men in the rooms beyond.
Chico slumped down onto his stool, and then looked speculatively at Selah. She lowered herself painfully back into the chair, unwilling to meet his eyes.
“Yeah, it was me. Not Arachne,” said Selah, feeling dull, heavy. “It was the price Louis charged for giving me the cure.”
“I thought so. That’s why Cloud ran away, right? Because you were willing to murder somebody?”
Selah nodded miserably. The excitement from moments ago drained away. “I’m different at night. Doing bad things seems OK.” She laughed. “Hell, they don’t seem too bad to me right now.”
Chico crouched before her and placed his hands on her knees. Selah fought to raise her eyes to his. The kindness and concern on his face made her feel even worse.
“Selah, what you’ve done isn’t right. But then again, what you’re going through isn’t right either. More and more, I find myself asking: does what I’m doing make sense? Is this the right thing to do? I don’t know. Caldwell was the number-one Dust dealer in LA. Does that make killing him a good thing? I don’t know. Once, I would have said no. Now? Who can say?”
Selah nodded. She sniffed and wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Before I … before I killed Caldwell, I tricked him into thinking I was Arachne. And he said I’d told him something huge was about to go down. Something that was going to change everything. He didn’t even know what it was, but he made it sound like it was going to happen in a day or two. That’s why he came to the meet in person.”
“Something huge, eh? Couldn’t be this Culebras move. This gang stuff doesn’t mean anything to the vampires or the military.” Chico thought it over. “I don’t know. I’m so tired I can’t think. You look exhausted too. How about you get some sleep? I’ll grab you some food if we got any.”
“Sure,” said Selah. Part of her wanted to live this last day to the fullest, to wring every drop of humanity from it. To sit in the sun, to feel alive. But she was just too tired. Too dejected. Too exhausted. Life didn’t seem so sweet right now. Chico pulled out a ragged yoga mat and unrolled it across the floor, setting the chair and stool outside so Selah could lie down.
“Hold on, I’ll be right back with something.” He stepped out. Selah lay down, wincing at the pain in her hip, and closed her eyes. The world was too complex, too out of control. Murders, gang warfare, vampires, supernatural drugs, shattered peace, death. She closed her eyes. She just wanted to rest, if only for a little while.
Chapter
Eighteen
Selah opened her eyes and was immediately awake. She stretched like a cat, yawning and arching her back. She relaxed, blinked, and looked up into the gloom. Where was she? What small, disgusting little room was this? She’d been moving so much these past few days—weeks—that for a moment she was nonplussed. Ah yes. The Locos. Chico. Her last night.
She sat up and a thin blanket fell from her. She felt rested, energized, as lithe and strong as a panther. The sun must have set. Of course. Was this to be her last night after all? Or should she consider it her first? She tongued her teeth, but they lacked vampiric points. She still breathed, and had a pulse. Not a vampire yet.
Selah rose to her feet cocked her head, listening to the voices that filtered through the flimsy door. A favor. She had promised to do something. To help Armando, to help everybody. Poor Chico, trying to be a good guy in this degenerate world.
Selah frowned and moved back till her shoulder blades touched cinder blocks. What did she want? To stalk the alleys and streets and hunt down Culebras? Not particularly. Why should she help? So as to wean his territory off Blood Dust? What did it matter? Louis had already found another dealer, and if Caldwell had been right, something huge was going to change all of this, anyway.
What did she want? Selah frowned at the dark. What was the better path for her? She didn’t know. Her body yearned for movement, for action, but her mind was quiet. She realized that she just wanted to slip out, escape into the city, and perhaps steal a car. Maybe drive out of LA and into the desert, just cruise under the night sky. Solitude. Yes. She rose smoothly to her feet. All the aches and pains were gone. She was filthy, and her hair was a mess, but under the grime and dried blood she didn’t have a scratch on her.
The door opened, and a splash of light from beyond fell across her face. “Selah?” Chico, his voice tentative. “Are you awake?”
Selah stepped forward and opened the door wide. The room beyond was full of people, Armando at their front, all of them staring if not glowering right at her. “Good morning,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. “Can I help you?”
Chico stepped back. “You said—earlier today. That you would help.”
“Help? You mean kill.” Chico’s face grew tight, and he nodded. She looked past him at Armando. He at least didn’t flinch. “You want me to run outside and bring back some Culebra heads. Have you spread the word?”
“Yes,” said Armando. His voice was dull and deep, his irritation at her tone evident. “We’ve put it out that Arachne’s got our back. Now you need to make it true.”
“Do I?” Silence. She looked past Armando at his assembled men. Only a dozen. Was this all he had left? Few of them were willing to meet his eyes. “Remind me why I agreed to do so?”
“Selah,” said Chico. “Come on. Don’t play like this. We’re trying to make a difference here. Stop the Blood Dust. You know how important that is.” Selah pursed her lips, and he pressed on. “Didn’t your dad disappear trying to look into all this?”
“Don’t talk about my father,” she said, and pushed off the doorframe. “Fine. I’ll give you one night. Then tomorrow, I’m done. Understood?”
Armando lifted his chin. His powerful forearms were crossed over his broad chest, and he looked as solid as a hill, as strong as a bull. She knew she could snap him in half though. Could break all of them with ease. He met her eyes, however, and nodded. “One night. That’s all we need.”
“All right.” Irritation boiled over within her, and she pushed forward. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to escape, to be free of these men, their desires, their needs, her obligations. She wanted nothing more than the desert sky and the open road. “One night. Make sure all your men are off the streets.”
The crowd parted for her, and she strode through the main room beyond and shoved open the door to step outside into the night. The air was already chill. Selah stopped and looked up. The night sky was hidden by clouds. She glanced up and down the street. Which way? An instinct arose within her, a sense of how to approach the city. How to be a predator. How to hunt. The dark blood that had mixed with hers had belonged to a hunter from time immemorial. The ultimate predator. She felt it thrum within her veins, and knew suddenly how to move, how to proceed. With a laugh, she took off at a run, and slipped into the night.
Three hours later Selah found herself back within the vicinity of Armando’s base. She dropped down from the rooftop she had been traversing and landed silently in the street. It was deserted, a crooked alley between large older homes and newer shacks and sheds. A cat froze on a rough wall to her left, stared at her with wide eyes, and then darted into the shadows. Selah straightened and began to pad back toward Armando’s. She might as well check in, being this close.
The Culebras had provided no challenge. The very ease with which she had mastered them had inspired her contempt. They had been wary, put on edge by Armando’s rumors, but had not been prepared for her attacks. She had moved amongst them as if dancing through statues, and with the lightest of touches had taken guns and discarded them, had broken arms, sent men sprawling. It had been so tempting to do more. Their fear had inspired her disgust. She had reigned herself in, however, and done little more then send them running.
She approached the familiar building, raising a hand in greeting to the sentries overhead. They called warnings to those below, and Armando threw open the door as if welcoming her home.
“Diablos, you’ve got them crying like little girls!”
He almost looked ready to embrace her, but she slipped past him and into the building. The press of humanity around her was suddenly too much. She wanted to be back out in the night, alone in the streets. Men and women stared at her, caught between fear and grim joy. She scanned their faces, and pushed into the next room, searching for Chico. A quick report, and then she would leave.
“Selah.” Chico emerged from his little room, Omni in hand.
“I’m almost done,” she said. “Another couple of hours.”
“I heard. But listen. I just got a message.” He extended the Omni to her, and Selah felt a crack of uncertainty fissure through her predator mind.
“What is it?” Chico stayed quiet, so she took the Omni and looked at the screen. A hovering video message was waiting to be played. She double-tapped it so that it filled the whole screen. Cloud.
“Selah, they’ve got me.” There was real pain beneath his voice. As if he were trying to master a dull agony, and barely managing. “Arachne does. They’re holding me at the Griffith Observatory.” His face was strained, drawn. “She’s wants me to tell you she’ll kill me if you don’t come. Selah, they’ll kill me anyway, don’t—“ The video cut. Selah stared at the frozen final frame, and then looked up at the wall. Arachne. The real Arachne. He hadn’t abandoned her. He’d been taken. She was holding the Omni so tight, she heard its industrial-strength casing crack, and she stepped back as if suddenly scalded. Taken.
Selah handed the Omni back to Chico and then ran her hands over her hair, then cupped them over her mouth. Turned and looked at the front door. The urge to race back into the Core was overwhelming, but she fought it, tried to think. If she just ran in with no plan, she’d be swamped by Arachne’s vampires. She needed help. Theo. She had to find him. Now more than ever. He’d help her, wouldn’t he? Arachne was his wife. He’d come to LA to deal with her. He’d help her get Cloud out, and she’d help him reach his wife in the process.
Selah didn’t try to think the plan through. That would have to work for now. She turned and strode through the infirmary and into the large room beyond, Chico trailing her. Armando was arguing with a couple of other guys in a low, vicious tone, but he turned to her as she entered.
“OK. Ready for round two?”
“No,” said Selah. “I’ve got to go.”
Armando’s smile snapped right off. He blinked as if he hadn’t understood her, and leaned forward. “What? What did you say?”
“Cloud messag
ed me,” said Selah. “Arachne’s got him in the Griffith Observatory. I’ve got to go get him.”
“Whoa,” said Armando, “hold up. You ain’t goin’ nowhere. We’re turning the tide here. You quit on me now, who knows if this will work out. You’re gonna help me. You’re gonna go back out there and kill some more chingado Culebras.”
Selah looked him right in the eyes. “No. I’m not.”
The two men who’d been listening to the conversation fanned out to the side, and another three men who’d been lying on the floor rose to their feet. Armando shook his head. “You don’t get it. You’ve got no choice.”
Selah walked forward and right into his face. “No choice?”
Armando drew his gun and pointed it at Chico. “You don’t help me? He gets it.”
Everybody froze. Selah shot Chico a glance and saw that he had gone white. “What? Why would you do that?”
“Because you guys are friends. Right? And you’re a nice girl. You don’t want him to get hurt. His blood on your mind. Plus it’s his fault this all happened. So it’s on him.”
Chico raised his hands. “Armando. You wanted to change, remember? I just showed you how. I just showed you the way.”
“Change. The only way things have changed is for the worse. Which is why Selah here is going to go back out there and get to work. If she don’t?” He shrugged.
“Put the gun down,” said Selah, and it felt like Mama B was speaking through her. “Quit acting like a baby.”
Everybody froze. Armando’s eyes widened again, and he turned, slowly, back to her. “What you say?”
“You heard me. Quit whining like a baby. You’re talking shit and you know it. Look at you. Mad at the world for not giving you everything you wanted. You started this life. You started this gang. You made this world what it is. Now you’re looking to change the rules and you’re mad people aren’t playing along. Grow up.”