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I pour me and Bill another.
“We can’t. We didn’t just come for Wormwood. We came for Vidocq.”
“Who is that?” says Hesediel.
“Just another mortal to you. A friend to us. One of Wormwood’s people poisoned him with black milk.”
“And he lives?”
“He’s in the Winter Garden. It’s like a hoodoo coma.”
“Did you really think that Norris Quay and his kind would help save your friend?”
“No. We came here hoping to find an angel.”
She comes over to the bar.
“For what?”
“A little blood. It’s the one thing I know of that will cure pretty much any civilian disease.”
She picks up the bottle. Sets it down again.
“Bill. Do you have an empty one?”
He finds a dusty pint bottle under the bar. Hesediel takes it from him.
“How much will your friend need?”
“Just a few drops,” I tell her.
She stretches out her arm, pushing her wrist just past the edge of her armor. I offer her the black blade.
“Hellion made?” she says.
“Yes.”
“I’ll use mine.”
She takes a dagger out of a sheath at her side. Puts the tip to her wrist and lets blood dribble into the glass until it covers the bottom.
“Is that enough?”
“More than enough.”
She puts the cork back in the top and hands me the blood.
“I hope it helps your friend.”
“Thank you. This means a lot to us.”
She nods. Lets the blood flow a little longer. Some kind of strange penitence.
I give Candy the bottle.
“You should take care of it. I break things.”
She puts it in her pocket with the shoes.
