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“Because you’re the only one that has access to the Codex.”
“And you stuck that fucking peeper in my head. Don’t forget that. I don’t. The damn thing keeps me up at night.”
I sip my beer.
“Sorry.”
He drains his beer and opens another.
“First you leave me without a body, then you replace my eye with a Freddy Krueger marathon.”
“I’d trade you the eye anytime if I could use it.”
“Then do it.”
“I tried.”
“Try harder. You’re good at making up spells and stuff.”
He’s starting to slur his words. He’s nice and toasted.
“Maybe I can give you a break for a while.”
“What does that mean?”
I set down my bottle. At this point, he won’t notice if I stop drinking.
“Not a long break, you understand. Give me the eye back for a half hour. I want to try something where I might be able to see Downtown for a few minutes.”
“How?”
“I’m going to have to die a little.”
“Oh fuck,” he says. “You’re going to do that blood ritual again, aren’t you? Who’s going to clean up the mess? Not me. And what if Candy comes home early and finds you passed out. She doesn’t need to see you like that.”
The Metatron Cube ritual is one where I draw a mystical sigil on the floor, get down in it, and slice my wrists. It lets me talk to the recent dead, especially if they’re close by. This time, though, I want to try something else.
“The Cube is strictly a backup. I think I have a work-around.”
“What kind? If it hurts, I’m not doing it.”
“Relax. It’s just a potion called Dream Tea. I used it once when I worked with Ishiro Shonin last Christmas.”
“That four-hundred-year-old, walking, talking bag of bones you worked with at the Golden Vigil?”
Kasabian looks suspicious again.
“Wait—how is it you ended up with a Vigil potion?”
“What do you think? I stole it.”
“Oh good. You’re such a little Mary Sue these days I thought you might have paid for it. So, how does it work?”
“That’s the great part. You just drink it and meditate.”
“You can’t meditate.”
“Yeah, but I can have some Aqua Regia and relax into it. It worked last time.”
