"What, just in the streets?"
"Ain"t you cold? Whyn"t you come on, Chess. Warmer in the car, aye? Just take a look." His head turned back toward the huddled crowd. Right. Probably not a good idea to discuss this in public. So she nodded, and followed him across the street while the music kept playing inside the bar.
Terrible"s "69 BT Chevelle straddled the curb two doors down, making the streetlight look like it was set up just to display it. New black paint gleamed in the orangeish glare. Chess was almost afraid to touch it, the way she would be afraid to approach any predator. The car seemed ready to leap forward on its fat black tires at any moment and start swallowing the road.
Sitting on the leather seat was like sitting on a block of ice, but Chess didn"t mention it. Terrible didn"t seem in the mood for jokes. Instead she waited for him to talk, knowing he"d get to it in his own time.
They"d gone about ten blocks through the abandoned streets west of Downside"s red-light district before he did.
"First hooker," he said. "But the third body, dig? b.u.mp ain"t paid much attention before, outside getting p.i.s.sed. Dealer first. Slick Michigan, know him?"
She shook her head. The heater was starting to work; she could have relaxed if it weren"t for her nerves. The last thing she wanted to do was get involved with a murderous ghost. Another murderous ghost, that was-she still hadn"t fully recovered from the Dreamthief.
Terrible kept talking while she grabbed her pillbox and popped a couple of Cepts, washing them down with the beer she still held. "Found him maybe five weeks ago, down by the docks. n.o.body think much of it. You know how them docks get. And Slick weren"t exactly the calm type. Figure he gets into a fight, aye? Plays with some boy got a quick knife hand."
"He was knifed?"
"Aye."
"But then-"
He glanced at her. "Second one came a couple weeks ago, guessing. Little Tag. He a runner, aye? Ain"t sell, ain"t handle much. Just carryin from one place to another. Found him in an alley off Brewster."
"I didn"t even know there were alleys off Brewster." She looked out the window. They"d gone south first, down to Mather. Now Terrible swung the big car left against the light. What was a hooker doing this far off the drag, and this close to the end of b.u.mp"s territory?
"Aye. Ain"t much good in them places, neither. n.o.body even sure how long he was there. He body ... ain"t pretty, if you dig. Hardly any left." He took a long pull off his own beer and set it back down between his thighs, then pulled two cigarettes from his pocket and lit them.
Chess took the one he offered her and leaned back in her seat, letting the smoke curl out of her mouth and up toward the roof. "And now a girl."
"Aye."
"You still haven"t told me why you think it"s a ghost."
"Ain"t sure it"s a ghost. Not me, not b.u.mp. Got others thinking so, though."
"So you want me to come in and say it isn"t?"
"Be a help, aye."
"But what if it is?"
He glanced at her as he pulled the car up by a burned-out building. "You think be a ghost, b.u.mp gonna call the Church ask them take care of it? Or you think he come to you?"
s.h.i.t.
Unholy Ghosts is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author"s imagination or are used fict.i.tiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Excerpt from Unholy Magic copyright 2010 by Stacey Fackler.
BOOKS BY STACIA KANE.
Unholy Ghosts.
Unholy Magic.
City of Ghosts.