Page 163 of Antihero

“The biggest,” he said. “I see what’s inside you. And who you find next? Who you reach out to help? They’re gonna see it, too. It’s what’s gonna let them know that it might be okay. That they can make it. You’re it now. You’re what comes next.”

Her chin dipped and she took a tentative step forward and then she hugged him. A clumsy embrace around his arms, pinning them to his sides so he couldn’t hug her back. In a way it was a relief; he’d been caught off guard and wouldn’t have known what to do.

Letting go, she turned without looking back and moved down the stairs into the belly of the city. Standing at the top step, framed by a circle of sky, he watched her until she disappeared.

59Gargoyles

By the time Evan caught up to Candy outside the church, Vespers was being conducted inside. The voices of the choir reached them sporadically over the city noise, the harmony like a vibration.

As he mounted the wide stairs, Candy waited with her hands on her cocked hips, a fall of bangs down across one eye.

“It’s done?”

He said, “It’s done.”

She was dressed conservatively, long skirt, high-necked blouse with ruffle trim, pink satchel purse that matched her block heels and lipstick. Makeup invisibly contoured her face, altering her appearance slightly but effectively. Her skin was ivory today, her loosed hair sleek and shiny.

The chilled afternoon breeze smelled of roasting chestnuts from the street vendor on the corner. One hymn ended and another began, also in Romanian, this one a bit louder. He could make out a few words, all those rich vowels. They studied the homely façade of the white stucco building, with its barred windows and electrical lines.

“Didn’t want to go in?” Evan asked.

“Not for me,” she said. “I do better out here.”

“Guarding the perimeter.”

“That’s me,” she said. “That’s us.”

“Gargoyles.”

She laughed. Her teeth were perfect, white and straight, like in a toothpaste commercial. He thought about the damage of her back, how she’d let him stroke the gnarls and whorls of scar tissue, as intimate a touch as he’d ever known.

Leaves fluttered on the trees below. A few people had carved love hearts into the whitewashed trunks. Traffic was constipated, cabbies shouting out windows. People scurried along, plugged into Bluetooth earpieces or talking into phones. A homeless man slumbered on a bus-stop bench, hugging himself, hands stuffed into his armpits for warmth.

A tinny song played, breaking through the city sounds.

Oh, she’s sweet but a psycho!

Evan looked at Candy, one eyebrow arched inquisitively.

Candy unsnapped the top of her purse, withdrew a phone. The ringtone continued.

She answered: “Do you need my help?”

Evan blinked at her.

She listened for a moment. “How did you get this number?”

She appeared to be serious.

“Stay where you are,” she said. “I’ll contact you within the hour.”

The phone disappeared into her purse. Balancing on one foot, she tugged off one shoe and wacked it against a concrete planter. The block heel broke off and she reseated her foot in the low shoe. Switching stork legs, she knocked off the other heel. Then she wound her long blond hair up into a tucked ponytail.

Evan watched her, poleaxed.

“I have my own missions, you know,” Candy said.

“Like what?”