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“Let’s go.” With that, I pushed past the guards, high-fived Ziggy on my way by, and stormed straight into the eye of a Necrospank 5000 hurricane. We’d entered a dressing room, or at least it used to be one. The band members had broken most of the furniture. The things that hadn’t been broken were covered in various liquor, foodstuffs, and body fluids. In the corner, a groupie gave the bassist oral pleasure. Another chick lay on her stomach on the coffee table, where the keyboardist snorted white lines off her ass.

I suppose they believed they were being shocking and edgy. But the whole thing was so stereotypical that it struck me as a little desperate and pedestrian. I looked over my shoulder at Ziggy. He shrugged and made a wanking gesture with his hand. With his free hand, he pointed to a doorway to the right. Adam nodded and made toward the door, looking as unimpressed as I felt. But Giguhl and the others were rubbernecking like crazy.

“But—” The demon strained to get a better view. “But—”

I looked at the three sets of eager gazes watching the party. Since Erron’s information about Cain really affected only Adam and me, I decided it was probably best to leave the others there. “Okay, you three stay here and enjoy the party. Adam and I will be back in a few.” I lifted the cat from my shoulder and handed him over to PW. “Behave.”

The cat blinked his eyes at me. “Sabina, you wound me.”

“Whatever. Just don’t hump anyone. You don’t know where these humans have been.”

We left them and followed Ziggy into a dark hallway that led to another dressing room. This one was larger than the other. Instead of the moldy Berber and office furniture of the other room, this one had plush shag carpeting and velvet divans and a tufted ottoman. Clearly, we’d entered the sanctuary reserved for the real star.

But the star was nowhere in sight. Instead, the only inhabitant was a tiny woman dressed in a red vinyl miniskirt, miniature fishnets, and a black-sequined halter top. I remembered her from New Orleans, but I’d never caught her name. However, I did remember she was Erron’s full-time hairdresser as well as a part-time gimp equestrian. Long story.

If she noticed our arrival, she didn’t show it. Instead, she busied herself painting her nails. Ziggy whistled to get her attention. She looked up then. “Hey, Zig.”

He nodded toward us expectantly. Her eye roll did little for my ego. “Oh,” she said in a bored tone. “It’s you.”

Before any of us could respond, Erron emerged from a side door. He wore the same leather pants he’d had onstage. But he’d thrown a black kimono over his torso, unbelted to show off his chest wound, I presumed.

When he saw us he stopped. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“How could I resist after I read your note?” I said. “Great show, by the way.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Thanks.” He turned toward Ziggy, speaking as he signed. “Remind me to tell MC Macabre that he’s coming in too early on ‘Fuck the Clowns.’ ”

Ziggy flashed a thumbs-up and signed something back I couldn’t decipher. Erron merely nodded and collapsed with a groan onto the couch.

After that, Erron seemed to dismiss our presence altogether. The table in front of the couch was a mosaic of multicolored pills, snack foods, and drug paraphernalia. Erron grabbed a handful of M&Ms—or at least I hoped that’s what they were—and threw them into his mouth.

“Erron,” Adam said, speaking with exaggerated patience. “Your note said you had new information for us?”

The singer swallowed a mouthful of liquor. “Oh, right, sorry. I’m always a little spaced out after a show. I just need a minute to chill, if you don’t mind.”

I glanced at the dressing table where the little person continued to paint her nails. If we were about to discuss dark-races business, it probably wasn’t a good idea to do it in front of a mortal. “Um, maybe you should ask the midget to leave first.”

Erron looked over at her. “Who? Goldie? She knows everything.”

I choked. “Seriously? Your name’s Goldie?” The first time I’d seen her, Erron’s little friend had been peeing on his bassist during an orgy, so the name seemed too good to be true.

Goldie jumped down from the counter where she’d been perched. “That’s right, bitch. Goldie Schwartz. And I’m not a f**king midget. I prefer the term ‘fun sized.’ ”

I squinted at her for a moment, wondering if she was f**king with me. But she held my stare with the menace of a woman three times her size. “No offense intended,” I muttered.

She ignored me and sidled up to Erron. Rubbed his arm with her nubby fingers. “You need anything, baby?”

He took her hand and kissed the knuckles. “No, I’m good. Why don’t you go join the others?” After his initial stance that she was welcome to stay, she seemed shocked by his dismissal. But instead of challenging him on it, she strutted in her miniature stilettos toward Ziggy.

“Come on, doll,” Goldie signed as she sashayed toward him. “Let’s go get coked out of our minds and show those amateurs a real party.”

Ziggy’s eyebrows shot up to his pompadour. He nodded enthusiastically and saluted us as he followed her out the door. Once they were gone, the dressing room fell silent except for the muted beat of music from the party.

Adam and I exchanged a tense look. Erron had said he needed a few minutes, but I wasn’t really in the mood to cater to his rock star ego. I cleared my throat. “Listen, if this isn’t a good time—”

Erron set his bottle of Beam on the table and sighed. “No, it’s fine. I’m just so f**king glad this tour’s finally over. I was just savoring the silence. But I appreciate you guys coming.” He scrubbed a hand across the bandage on his chest, as if the wound still hurt him.

If he’d been an Adherant mage, one who followed the dictates of the Hekate Council, he’d have been able to heal that wound no problem. But that cut and the scars left over from other such stunts bore testament to his Recreant status. The minute he’d broken from the Council, they’d stripped him of his ability to heal himself. Judging from the multitude of scars crisscrossing his chest, I had to wonder if Erron’s little cutting hobby was really a “fuck you” to the Council. Sad, really, considering the Council paid no attention to his activities as far as I could tell.

“Do you guys remember what I told you about when I hunted down Cain?” Erron said suddenly.

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