New Title 32 (25 page)

Nadia held the spell until both engine and transmission were shining and spotless enough to eat off of. When she released the spell, she collapsed into Rose’s arms, gasping for water. I took care of that while Rose carried her into the office.

When I got back to the car, Boo was turning the engine by hand, using a baseball bat-sized socket wrench. He gave me a thumbs-up and set the wrench back in his tool box. “Granfer Vic must have known the car would be waiting a while. Draining the radiator was a good precaution. That pipe on the clutch pedal kept the plates from freezing together, so we’re in decent shape there. The oil in the cylinders kept them from seizing, and the valves cleaned up nice. We need to pull the oil pan and make sure there’s no nasty gunk in there. The bad news is all the hoses and belts need to be replaced and we got no parts that’ll work. And no, there’s nothing like this in the yard. Pickup trucks and such, those we got.”

My watch said it was a quarter of eight. Five hours left, and Kayenta was awake. I was not looking forward to explaining to Boo’s siblings why we were working on a car they couldn’t see, but Boo didn’t seem concerned. He tossed me a tube of gasket stuff and I went to work on the oil pan.

At least the news from Las Vegas had quieted down. Aerin’s last text had been a code for radio silence, but indicating all was well. Nadia shook her head after reading it, but didn’t reply.

Boo’s sister Jeanne and their brother Earl arrived at ten after eight, carrying a basket of chorizo-stuffed breakfast burritos and a carafe of fresh coffee. Neither of them saw the car as it was; they thought it was just another junker.

Jeanne looked us over and said, “You know, our cousin Harold owns a used car lot about a mile down the road. I’m sure I saw a fifties-era hard-top sedan there a few days ago. It has to be in better shape than this one.”

“Thanks, but we really want to get this one going.” I snagged a burrito and coffee. “It’s a…singular vehicle.”

“Why do we need it?” Nadia raised an eyebrow at me. “Seriously, why not rent something made in the last decade and drive back in comfort? Or look at…other options?”

“Because…” I flicked my eyes toward Jeanne. Nadia rolled her eyes, but nodded. “Because I like this car and I want it in our garage. End of discussion.”

The phone chose that moment to ring and Jeanne went into the office to answer it. I glanced around and said, “I have no idea. Driving this car back makes no sense, and if I saw this scene in a movie, I’d be yelling at the characters to just scry the bitch, teleport in behind her, and backstab her ass. We can’t do that. It’s…the timing won’t be right. We can’t hit the hotel until after seven-fifteen tonight.”

“I guess that’s that, then.” Nadia punched the seat back and recoiled at the dust and bits of desiccated padding filled the air. She jumped out of the car, brushing debris off her shirt. “If we have to do six hours in this bucket, we’re damn well going to be comfortable. You might want to stand back a little.” She pointed to the boombox on the wall and it burst into life with the
1812 Overture
. For several seconds, she focused, wrapping her hands and arms in layers of light. It built through the first portion of the movement, until the air felt thin and all the hairs on my arms rose up. When the cannons finally sounded, Nadia cut loose.

Liquid silver fire poured out of her hands, streaming over the car’s windows and cascading down onto the seats and instrument panel. She lifted herself off the ground, pouring fire on the ancient hoses and belts. More fire raced over and through the engine.

The music changed to the “Dies Irae” from Mozart’s
Requiem
. The car lifted off the ground so the now-pristine tires could re-inflate. The body panels smoothed back to their original futuristic contours, and chrome blazed back to mirror-bright life. As the car settled back onto the cement, the body turned arterial-spray crimson with titanium-white accents.

The magic faded and Nadia sat down on a bar fridge. “All right, gentlemen. Start her engine.” She swayed back and forth a bit, steadying herself by grabbing the workbench.

I looked around the garage and into the office. Earl was finishing the carb rebuild we’d pulled Boo off of last night. He hadn’t seen any of Nadia’s display. Judging by the earbuds and MP3 player, he hadn’t even heard the music.

Jeanne and her customers in the office missed it, too. Probably the DGI field. I was just as happy not having to provide explanations.

We still needed to add oil, antifreeze, a battery, and gas, but those took only minutes. In no time, we were primed and ready to go. Boudreaux turned the key…and the engine went
rur-rur-rur
, just barely turning over. We swapped the battery for the newest one in the shop and tried again. The engine caught, coughed, sputtered, and died. Boo sprayed a shot of ether into the carburetor and hit it again.

This time the engine roared to life, settling down to a steady rumble, that old-school V8 heavy metal thunder pounding away in the middle of your chest. Boo backed the car out, parking in front of the office and leaving the engine running. “So, okay, what are you going to do about a license plate?”

“Have your cousin Harold sell us this car,” I said. “Which you gave to him on consignment.”

Boo rubbed his chin, thinking the idea through. “Yeah, that works. Give me a minute and I’ll drive us over there.”

We said our goodbyes and stowed the wooden parts of the spear in the trunk. The spear tip went in the concealed space in the passenger seat.

The mile or so to Harold’s car lot revealed two things. First, almost no one noticed the car, including people at fast-food drive ups; and second, we forgot to recharge the air conditioning. Oh, and third—there is no shade in a bubble-top car. It’s a rolling greenhouse. Leave the canopy back, and the rear portion of the bubble top becomes an air dam, creating an insane vortex of scorching air.

Thankfully, we could fix the air conditioner. While Cousin Harold filled out the paperwork, Boo recharged the air conditioner and I sat on the phone trying to convince our bank to wire ten grand to the bank Boo used. I finally gave up and put the car on my credit card.

At long last, armed with a valid temporary tag and a stack of paperwork, we drove back to the parts yard to drop Boudreaux off.

He patted the side of the car, shaking his head. “I know you got a thing to do and all that, but this car is my family history. When you’re done, just bring it back. You can have your money back and Harold can just put it down as a return. I figure you can buy any car you want, but there’s only one that belonged to Granfer Vic. Deal?”

“What about the three million you asked for?”

He sighed. “You couldn’t get ten grand from your bank. Don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t see anything says you got that kind of cash. Maybe you do, maybe I’m wrong, but…honestly, I think it’ll rain Vegas showgirls before I see that kind of money.”

I started to reassure him it wouldn’t be as long as that, but a thundercloud chose that exact moment to form right in front of the car. I looked skyward and shook my head.
You were waiting for that exact statement, weren’t you? What would you have done if he’d asked about the Spanish Inquisition?

A petite woman with the overdeveloped muscles of a power-lifter walked out of the storm. I wouldn’t say she was beautiful, but she was handsome, with a fierce expression, like a boxer waiting for the bell to ring. She looked native African, with dark black skin and close-cropped hair. For clothes, she had a large square piece of fur wrapped around her waist and a long furry strip bound across her chest. Her waist wrap had three gold buttons along one edge, pretty much confirming my impression that she’d simply torn a fur coat into something more to her liking.

She stomped up to Rose and gave her a short bow. “I have been looking for you,” she said. “I’ve been calling out, seeking you for weeks now. I know your mother told you I wanted to talk. Why have you been running from me?”

I murmured, “She’s your ‘unfinished business?”

I sensed shame, embarrassment, and a deep well of anger and betrayal from Rose. The anger didn’t last, but the shame and embarrassment only deepened. She folded her arms across her chest and asked, “Why have you been looking for me?”

“Forgiveness. I…” The woman looked around and said, “Could we speak privately?”

Rose looked down. “I’m not ready for that just yet. Say what you need to say.”

The woman nodded. “So be it. I don’t care. I’ve lived with wanting to say this for so long. I apologize for what I said the last time we spoke. I never meant to upset you. I know it hasn’t been long for you, but it’s been almost sixty years for me. I had to find you, and to apologize. I am sorry, and I ask you to forgive me for speaking thoughtlessly.” She bowed her head and waited.

Rose looked up. “Fine. I accept your apology. Now, we have a lot of stuff to do, so if you’ll excuse us…”

“Just a minute,” Nadia said. “I’ve been wondering why I haven’t had any Dragonesses chasing me down since you put that marker on me, and now that one is here, I want to see if we have a chance to hit it off. You two can work out your issues later, but I’d like you to come with us. I want to talk to you and see if we’re compatible. What’s your name, anyway?”

“Her mother’s dice decided I would be called Erica. I didn’t like the names I was offered and my request for more examples was not granted.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Rose said. “I know her procedures. When you find a name to your liking, I’ll see to it you get a new set of papers. In the meantime, we need to go. Goodbye.”

Nadia snapped her fingers. The engine died, along with the car’s electrical power. “I said, I’d like Erica to come with us. Please.”

Rose stared at Erica and I felt the emotional dam give way inside her. “All right. Erica. You and Nadia can talk on the drive to Las Vegas. You and I will talk later. And…I am glad to see you again.”

“Glad that’s settled.” Nadia snapped her fingers again and the car started up.

Boo nudged me in the ribs. “Still want to drive to Las Vegas? You pretty outnumbered, fellah.”

“At this point, I’m committed. Or at least I should be.” I gave him a smile. “Still think you’d be happy with three million?”

“Only when I see it in my bank account. What I do want is the car back. You can keep the demon-killing spear. Got no need for it.” He shook my hand. “Have a safe trip.”

“Thank you, and thanks again for all your help. We couldn’t have done it without you.” As I said it, I felt like a knife was twisting in my stomach.

Right on cue, Nadia took Boudreaux’s hand and zapped him with
Retcon
. “Forget our names and faces. We were some obnoxious friends of your drunk brother, looking for parts for a ’76 Pinto. You sold us our parts and we left. That’s all you know. Now, go back to work, and in ten seconds you’ll feel perfectly normal.”

Boo nodded and started walking back to the office. I closed the canopy and drove off without looking back. Nadia darkened the glass in the canopy and the rear window with a wave of her hand. Shade and working air conditioning made the car far more enjoyable.

Nobody looked twice at us when we stopped for gas. I pumped and paid while the ladies hit the restroom. When they got back, I took my turn.

When I opened the restroom door, two scorpions scampered across the grungy tile floor and into the shelter of an occupied stall. I kept an eye on them, but they kept their distance. Maybe they were onto something; the noises and odor coming from the stall amounted to a damage shield. I stayed as far upwind as I could and gave the bugs a nod. Stay away from my boots, and I won’t use you for target practice. Deal?

They wiggled their pincers at me, but stayed put. I took it as an acceptance of my terms. I got through flushing and zipping without issue, but when I went to wash my hands, it wasn’t me in the mirror.

It was a screaming woman wearing the filthy, torn remains of a satin nightgown. Under her blood-matted hair, her face was gouged and bleeding from dozens of self-inflicted wounds. Her eyes were gone, just oozing sockets, but I could feel her gaze fix on me. “I see you,” she howled. “I see you, and I know your name!” Her voice dissolved into a shriek, and behind me, the guy in the stall started screaming as well.

I didn’t wait to see what was happening. I ran out the door and into the gas station. “Call 911! The guy in the toilet is having a heart attack or something!”

As I said it, the guy stumbled around the corner and slumped against the front window. His skin was blistering and falling off in huge chunks, while thick streams of blood and bowel oozed down his thighs and spattered on the ground behind him.

I shoved the cashier out of my way, sprinting for the car and shouting, “Marines—we are leaving.” I leaped over Rose and dropped into my seat. I redlined second gear getting out of the parking lot without putting my seatbelt on or waiting for an opening in the traffic.

The
Don’t Get Involved
spell was supposed to make people move away from us. I decided to test it. I ran it up to eighty and got into Highway 163’s center turn lane. A tour bus in the oncoming lane and two semis trying to turn squeezed to the side to make room for us. I pulled back to the right side of the road and whipped through the next red light at one-ten and accelerating. Two pickups and a mail truck slowed down just enough to miss us. I kept the hammer down, and we blew past a Tribal Police car sitting on the side of the road. The officer ignored us and kept eating.

I slowed down enough to make the turn onto US 160 without rolling us and yelled, “Nadia! Decontaminate us!” I didn’t know that she could, but you never know. Turned out she could. Her spell filled the car with an arctic blue light. I hoped it would be enough, assuming the guy in the bathroom died of something contagious.

Westbound 160 was clear for half a mile in each direction, so I slowed down long enough to close the canopy and fasten my seat belt. “Sorry for the rush—the demon bitch showed up in the bathroom mirror and gave some poor guy taking a dump a terminal case of Ebola or something. I just wanted to get out of there before we caught something.”