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“Nicky—”
“I can handle this. I’m in touch with my warrior-self. Look at my aura.”
I looked at Nicky, a full five feet of Australian New Age deadliness. I couldn’t actually see his aura but maybe he was surrounded by a bright glowing war-like haze that would terrify and intimidate anybody who tried to hurt him. Anything was possible.
But if I couldn’t see his warrior-self aura it seemed like a safe bet that there were other people who couldn’t see it either. And if one of them decided to stick a knife down Nicky’s throat, just for the hell of it, that would be a big distraction for me.
“You asked me to do this because I know how to do it,” I said. “This is part of what I know.”
“Eyewash,” he said stubbornly.
I reached for the bedside pen and notepad, “I need you here. You’re my last back-up. If something goes bad, if I don’t come back or call you by 2 A.M., that means I’m in trouble and I need help.”
“Pull the other one.”
“I mean it. If it goes wrong I’ll need a hole card. You’re it.”
“Seriously?” He was beginning to doubt a little.
“Seriously. I need you here, out of reach of whatever might happen. Just in case.”
“I’ll come for you, Billy,” he said in a voice I was sure he’d picked up from Australian late night television.
“No, you won’t,” I said, writing out a telephone number and tearing off the page. “What you’ll do is call this number.” I handed him the slip of paper with the number written on it. Nicky raised an eyebrow. “It’s a man named Deacon,” I said. “He’s a very good cop.”
Nicky looked doubtful. “Are you having me on, mate? Make a phone call? That’s it? Besides, ‘the last back-up’ sounds like a Bruce Willis movie.”
“Anything that can take me out can take you out, too.”
“Don’t be so fuckin’ certain.”
“This way, if I’m still alive, I’ve got a chance. The Deacon will know what to do.”
“And I don’t?”
“This is shits,” Anna said. She had been watching us like we were a tennis match. Now she stood up and put a hand on Nicky’s shoulder. “We are doing this as Billy says. Please.”
The look on her face would have melted marble. Nicky still wasn’t completely convinced, but he accepted it. He smoothed the paper a few times and then folded it and stuck it in his pocket. “All right, then,” he said. “If that’s what it takes.”
“That’s it,” I said. I took a deep breath and let it out through my teeth. For some reason I was feeling a lot tenser about this than I should have. Because it really was pretty simple. Like Nicky had said: go to a bar and talk to a drunk. Nothing to it.
Except that when Anna had shivered and looked at me, all the hair had stood up on the back of my neck. And now all my instincts were saying that it would get ugly, had already gotten ugly, and I was walking into a snake pit. I was stepping off into darkness with no idea what might be under my feet. I didn’t like the feeling.
I shook it off. “Listen,” I said, wanting to believe what I was saying. “We’re making too much out of this. It’s not a big deal, I just want to play it safe.”
“Oh, yeah,” Nicky said, slightly bitter. “With a last backup. That ought to do.”
“Nicky, I’m just going to ask a few questions and come back. I’ll be gone a couple of hours, no big deal.”
“Fine, Billy. I’m sure I couldn’t possibly ask the bastard any questions.”
“Nicky—”
“Go on, Billy. Get out. You’re a right proper bastard when you want.”
I shook it off and turned to Anna. I put an arm around her and pulled her close. “You’re safe here,” I said. “And I’ll be back soon.”
She tilted her face up and looked into my eyes. I thought she was going to say something, but instead she pulled my face down onto hers and gave me a long, searching kiss. “Be careful,” she said.
