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“It’s only been a year? It seems a lot longer than that.”
“I know. Time’s funny when you’re treading water in a river of shit.”
Bill looks Cindil over.
“You can start by taking them things off,” he says, pointing to her head with his drink. She reaches up and touches her horns. Smiles and takes them off. She sets them down and Bill sweeps them off onto the floor behind the bar.
“Enough of that insult to a friend of my great-grandson.”
He nods and puffs his cigar.
“If the boy thinks you’re all right that’s good enough for me,” he says. “Welcome to the best saloon in all the fiery Abyss. We don’t get a lot of customers these days, but we have liquor and a little food from time to time and that decent music box the boy left behind.”
“It’s called a jukebox,” I say.
“I know what it’s called. It’s a damned foolish word and I’m not about to use it, especially not in front of a lady who looks like she’s endured enough foolishness.”
Cindil looks around the bar. It’s a ragged place, but back when I was Lucifer I had it built to look as much like Bamboo House of Dolls as possible.
“I can really stay here?” she says.
“Yes, you can,” says Bill.
“What if someone comes to take me back to the donut shop?”
“The powers that be have a lot on their plate right now,” I say. “I doubt anyone’s going to notice you’re gone. And if they do, they’re going to have a hard time finding you. If anyone comes for you, don’t worry. I’ll know about it.”
I look at Bill.
“You should have taken that gun I offered you back at the palace.”
“That funny Glock thing where I couldn’t even see the bullets? No thanks. Besides, with all the drunks and ne’er-do-wells that pass through here, I’ve got all the guns and ammunition I need. Under the floorboards back here.”
He sets the cigar on the bar and picks up his drink.
“You think it’s going to come to that?”
“No. But in strange times like this it’s better having too many guns than too few.”
“Amen to that,” says Bill.
I cock my head at the legionnaire.
“Is he someone to worry about?”
“Him?” says Bill. He smiles.
“He’s a deserter. That’s pretty much all we get out here these days. Law enforcement or anyone in authority are the last folks he wants to see.”
“Good to hear.”
I look at Cindil.
“I’ll say good-bye for now. Don’t worry about anything. Bill will take good care of you.”
“Thanks,” says Cindil.
“Can I have my coat back?” I say.
