"Oh yes," I said.

"Now that's just tacky. I can't believe I shared a picnic with her."

"Shut up, Tommy," said Sandra, not taking her eyes off me.

"In case you hadn't noticed, there is a War going on," I said. "This really isn't the time..."

"There's always a war going on somewhere in the Nightside," said Sandra. "You should know-you've started your fair share of them. My a.s.sociates and I have decided that we don't care. We want the reward on your head. It's a really big reward; one of the biggest bounties ever posted in the Nightside. The very well connected families of the thirteen Reasonable Men you slaughtered want you dead, John, and they don't care how much it costs them. There's enough money on the table to buy all of us a way out of the Nightside and into some distant dimension where even Lilith can't reach. And still leave enough cold cash for all of us to live like royalty, in our new home. So, revenge, escape, and all our dreams come true. In return for your head, preferably no longer connected to your body. See how neatly it all works out?"

"I thought you said you owed me," I said carefully. "For saving your life in the Necropolis graveyard?"

"Whatever small debt I may have owed you, I more than paid it off being a good soldier for Walker and defending the Nightside during your absence. I want you dead, John. I can't even breathe easily while you're still among the living. You murdered my sweet Saint of Suffering, my beloved Lamentation. You have to pay for that. I put together this little band of bounty hunters, some of the very best in the business, just so I could be sure you wouldn't dodge your death this time. Try your little bag of tricks against professionals, Taylor, and see where it gets you."

She had a point. I considered the dozen or so bounty hunters fanned out in a wide semicircle before me, covering all the possible escape routes. Most were vaguely familiar faces, and three of them were actually famous, almost in a cla.s.s with Suzie Shooter herself. At least she wasn't here. Then I really would have been in trouble. The tall scarecrow figure in Sally Army cast-offs was Dominic Flipside, a short-range teleporter. Frighteningly quick and sneaky, you never knew from which direction he'd come at you next. Whispering Ivy was a rogue anima from Wales, made up entirely from flowers and thorns, an ever-shifting montage of natural forms in the vague shape of a woman. When she moved, it sounded like the whispering of owls. And Cold Harald, dressed as always in the starkest black and white, with a mind like a calculating machine. He always worked the odds, his logic unclouded by any trace of emotion or humanity. He held a machine pistol in each hand and looked like he knew how to use them. Any one of these three would have worried me, but all of them together... and Sandra Chance... I thought about running back into the church and screaming for sanctuary, but I knew I'd never make the second step.

"Don't even think about the church," said Sandra. "Or we'll shoot your friend."

Tommy looked at her, hurt. "After we worked together, such a short time ago? Have you no shame? You wound me, madam."

"If you don't shut up, I'll wound you somewhere really painful," said Sandra. "It's up to you, Taylor. Surrender, and we'll make it quick. You can go out with some dignity, at least. Make us work for your head, and we'll all take turns expressing our displeasure on your helpless body."

"Come and take it," I said. "If you can."

"I was hoping you'd say that," said Sandra Chance. "Remember, people, do what you like to the body but don't damage the head. Our patrons won't pay up unless the face is unquestionably his. I think they want to take turns p.i.s.sing on it. Otherwise, anything goes."

Tommy Oblivion stepped forwards. He'd always been a lot braver than people gave him credit for. His gift manifested very subtly on the air, making his words seem the very epitome of reasonableness and good sense.

"Come," he said warmly, his arms reaching out to embrace everyone. "Let us reason together..."

"Let's not," said Cold Harald, in his flat, clipped voice, and he shot Tommy half a dozen times in the stomach. Tommy staggered back under the impact, slamming up against the church wall, then slid slowly down it until he was sitting on the ground. The whole bottom half of his ruffled shirt was slick with blood.

"Oh dear," he said quietly. "Oh dear." He bit his lip against the pain, and I could see him trying to concentrate, trying to raise his gift, so he could find a possibility where the bullets hadn't hit him. But his face was already white and beaded with sweat, his breathing hurried and shallow. I could feel his gift sparking on and off, but pain and stress were getting in the way of his concentration.

I couldn't expect any help from him. I was on my own.

I palmed an incendiary from out of my sleeve and tossed it into the midst of the advancing bounty hunters. Fire and smoke exploded noisily, and two of the bounty hunters fell broken and bleeding to the ground. The rest scattered. Dominic Flipside giggled, a long knife suddenly in each hand, then he disappeared, air rushing in to fill the s.p.a.ce where he'd been. I felt as much as heard him reappear almost immediately behind me, and spun round, one arm raised. He cut me open from wrist to elbow, and disappeared again. Blood soaked the length of my coat sleeve.

Cold Harald stepped forward, raising both machine pistols to target me. Dominic Flipside was already gone. I fired up my gift, used it to find where he'd reappear, and stepped forward to meet Cold Harald. He hesitated, expecting some trick, some magic. Dominic Flipside appeared behind me, and lunged silently forward with his long knife. I stepped aside at the last moment, and Dominic plunged on to stab Cold Harald through the heart. His fingers tightened on the triggers of his machine pistols, and blew a dozen holes through Dominic Flipside. Both of them were dead before they hit the ground.

There was a rustling of plants, and the murmuring of dreaming owls, as Whispering Ivy stretched out a hand made of petals and thorns. She sprouted fierce tendrils of barbed greenery, her shifting shape rising up and towering over me, then she stopped abruptly. There was the sound of crackling flames, the smell of smoke. She looked back, turning her flowery head impossibly far round. While she was fixed on me, Tommy had crawled around behind her and set fire to her with his monogrammed gold lighter. Whispering Ivy shrieked as the flames shot up incredibly fast, consuming her construct body, and she ran off across the open ashy plain, howling shrilly, a shrinking flickering light in the gloom.

I looked at the remaining bounty hunters. They were all frozen in place, horrified at how quickly I'd taken out their star players. They all looked at Sandra Chance, to see what she would do. To her credit, she'd already thrown off any surprise or shock she might have felt, and had drawn the old-fashioned pistol from its holster. It was an ugly, mean gun, built with function in mind, not aesthetics. The metal was blue-black, the barrel unfashionably long. It looked like what it was-a killing tool.

"This is an enchanted pistol," Sandra Chance said steadily. "It never misses. It belonged originally to the famed Western duellist, Dead Eye d.i.c.k, renowned hero of dime novels and at least one song. I dug up his grave and broke open his coffin to get this gun. I had to break his fingers to make him let go of it. I'd been saving it for a special occasion. You should feel honoured, John."

"People keep telling me that," I said.

She pulled the trigger while I was still speaking, and shot me three times in the chest. It was like being kicked by a horse, an impact so great it knocked all the breath out of my lungs and sent me stumbling backwards. The pain was remarkably focused; I could feel each separate bullet hole. There was a roaring in my head, and I still couldn't breathe. I bent forward over the pain, as though bowing to my killer, to the inevitable, and then, suddenly, I could breathe again. I sucked in a great lungful of air, and it had never tasted so good. My head cleared, and the pains faded away to nothing. I straightened up slowly, not quite trusting what I was feeling, and pulled open my bullet-holed trench coat to look underneath. There were three more holes in my shirt, but only a little blood. I put my fingers through the holes in my shirt, and found only unbroken skin. I felt great. I looked at Sandra Chance, and she stared blankly back at me, open-mouthed.

"Honest," I said. "I'm just as surprised as you are. But I think I know what's happened. I once put werewolf blood into Suzie Shooter, to save her from a mortal wound. And later she put her blood into me, for the same reason. So it seems I have acquired a werewolf's healing abilities. The blood's probably too diluted to do anything else to me, but..."

"It's not fair," said Sandra. "You b.a.s.t.a.r.d, Taylor! You always have a way out."

I had a feeling silver bullets might still get the job done, but I didn't think I'd mention that to Sandra. I turned to the other bounty hunters, who were still as statues, watching with gaping mouths, and gave them my best nasty smile. Five seconds later all I could see was their backs, heading for the nearest horizon. They knew when they were outcla.s.sed. I turned back to Sandra Chance, and she shot me in the head. The impact whipped my head round, and for a moment it seemed like all the bells in the world were ringing inside my skull. I then felt the weirdest sensation, as the bullet crept slowly back out of my brain, the hole healing behind it, until it popped out my forehead and dropped to the ground. The bone healed with only the faintest of cracking sounds, and that was that.

I smiled at Sandra. "Ouch," I said, just to be sporting.

She stamped her foot. "Don't you ever play by the rules?"

"Not if I can help it," I said.

We stood and looked at each other for a long moment. Sandra lowered her gun but didn't put it away. I knew she was considering the possibilities of a bullet to a soft target, like an eye or my groin.

"We don't have to do this," I said. "All this kill or be killed bulls.h.i.t. I don't want to kill you, Sandra. There's been enough death in the Nightside."

"I have to kill you, John," said Sandra, almost tiredly. "You murdered the only thing I ever loved."

"The Lamentation isn't actually dead," I said. "I only returned it to its original human components."

"They weren't the Lamentation," said Sandra. "They weren't what I loved. So I killed them. And now I have to kill you."

"I never understood what you saw in it," I said carefully. "Even allowing for your well-known death fetish, and your preference for... cold meat. You must know the Lamentation didn't love you. It couldn't, by its nature."

"I knew that! Of course I knew that! It was enough... that I loved it. The only creature something like me could ever love. It made me happy. I'd never been happy before. I'll kill you for taking that away from me."

"I won't kill you, Sandra," I said. "And you can't kill me. Forget this s.h.i.t. We've got a War to fight."

"I don't care," she said. "Let it all burn. Let them all die. That's the world I live in anyway. I'll find you, and I'll kill you, John. There's always a way. Wherever you go, I'll be there in the shadows, hunting you. And one day I'll step out of a door or an alleyway and kill you dead, when you're least expecting it. I'll watch you choke on your own blood and laugh in your face as you die."

"No you won't," said Suzie Shooter.

We both spun round, startled, and the roar of the shotgun was like thunder. Sandra Chance took both barrels in the chest, at close range. The blast tore half her upper torso away, and she was dead long before she hit the ground. Suzie nodded calmly, lowered the double-barrelled shotgun, and reloaded it from her bandoliers, and only then looked at me.

"Blessed and cursed ammo. If one barrel doesn't get you, the other will. h.e.l.lo, John."

"Thank you, Suzie," I said. There was nothing else I could say. She wouldn't have understood. "How did you know to find me here?"

Suzie nodded at Sandra's sprawled body. "She was dumb enough to approach me when she was putting her little army together. She thought the sheer size of the bounty would sway me. I won't say I wasn't tempted, but I like to think I've moved beyond that, where you're concerned. So I came here. I thought you might need some backup."

"I had the situation under control," I said. "You didn't have to kill her."

"Yes I did," said Suzie. "You heard her. She'd never give up. That's why you'll always need me around, John. To do the necessary things you're too soft to do."

"That's not why I keep you around," I said.

"I know," said Suzie Shooter. "My love."

She extended a leather-gloved hand to me, and I held it lightly in mine, for a moment.

"Excuse me for b.u.t.ting in on such a tender scene," said Tommy Oblivion, "But I do happen to by dying here. I would appreciate a helping hand."

He was lying on his side on the ground, both hands at his stomach, as though trying to hold it together. Suzie knelt beside him, pushed his hands aside, and checked the extent of the damage with experienced eyes.

"Gut shot. Nasty. If the bullets don't kill him, infection will. We need to get him out of here, John."

"I can't use my gift," said Tommy. His voice was clear enough, but his eyes were vague. "Can't concentrate through the pain. But I absolutely refuse to die in such a drab and depressing location as this."

"Don't worry," I said. "I'll take us back to Strangefellows through my Membership Card, and Alex will fix you up. You can put it on my tab."

"Oh good," said Tommy. "For a minute there, I was almost worried."

I took out my Membership Card, activated it, then almost dropped the b.l.o.o.d.y thing as Lilith's face looked out of the Card at me.

"h.e.l.lo, John," she said. "My sweet boy. My own dear flesh and blood. I haven't forgotten you. I'll come for you soon, then you'll be mine, body and soul, forever and ever and ever."

I shut down the Card, and her face disappeared. I was breathing hard, as though I'd just been hit. Suzie and Tommy were looking at me, and I realised they hadn't heard a thing.

"Bad news," I said. "We're going to have to do this the hard way."

Eleven.

Truth and Consequences

I stripped off my trench coat and gingerly inspected my injured arm. Dominic Flipside really had sliced it open from wrist to elbow, and blood was coursing down my arm. It hurt a lot more once I saw how bad it was. It also showed absolutely no signs of healing on its own. Suzie bandaged my arm with practised skill, brisk efficiency, and a bedside manner that bordered on distressing. She kept her gloves on the whole time. I would have liked to make a lot of noise, or at least indulged in some impa.s.sioned cursing, but somehow I couldn't when Tommy Oblivion's wounds were so much worse, and he wasn't making a sound. Suzie tied off both ends of my bandaged arm, and I flexed it carefully. stripped off my trench coat and gingerly inspected my injured arm. Dominic Flipside really had sliced it open from wrist to elbow, and blood was coursing down my arm. It hurt a lot more once I saw how bad it was. It also showed absolutely no signs of healing on its own. Suzie bandaged my arm with practised skill, brisk efficiency, and a bedside manner that bordered on distressing. She kept her gloves on the whole time. I would have liked to make a lot of noise, or at least indulged in some impa.s.sioned cursing, but somehow I couldn't when Tommy Oblivion's wounds were so much worse, and he wasn't making a sound. Suzie tied off both ends of my bandaged arm, and I flexed it carefully.

"You'll need st.i.tches later," said Suzie.

"That's right, cheer me up." I glanced at Dominic's body. "Trust a sneak a.s.sa.s.sin like him to use a blade with a silver edge. It's lucky you were carrying bandages, Suzie."

"Lucky, h.e.l.l. I always carry a full med kit. Tools of the trade, when you're in the bounty-hunting business. Even though the powers that be won't let me claim them as a business expense, the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds."

I put my trench coat back on. The slit sleeve flapped loosely around my injured arm. "I suppose," I said thoughtfully, "they won't let you claim because the med kit could be used by you, or your victims."

"Don't be silly, John. You know I always bring them in dead. Less paperwork that way."

We looked over at Tommy Oblivion, who was still sitting with his back propped against the wall of St. Jude's. Suzie had pushed his guts back into place, then wrapped his stomach with half a mile of bandages, but they were already soaked through with fresh blood. Tommy's face was grey and beaded with sweat. His eyes were wide and staring, and his mouth trembled. There was no way in h.e.l.l he was going to be able to concentrate hard enough or long enough to heal himself.

"We have to get him back to Strangefellows," Suzie said quietly. "And fast."

"I can't use my Membership Card, or his," I said, just as quietly. "Lilith has found a way to hack into it. She's closing in on me, Suzie, and I can't afford to be found."

Suzie looked out over the wasteland of ash and dust. Strange lights flared briefly on the horizon. "We're a long way from the bar, John. A long way from anywhere civilised. Tommy won't make it if we have to travel through the war zones on foot. h.e.l.l, I'm not even that sure we'll make it. Things are bad out there... How about if we go into St. Jude's, and pray for a miracle?"

"How about you go in?" I said. "Tommy and I will watch. From a safe distance. St. Jude's has a famously zero-tolerance policy when it comes to sinners."

"Could you two please keep the noise down?" Tommy said hoa.r.s.ely. "I'm dying here, and I have a headache."

"He's delirious," said Suzie.

"I wish," said Tommy.

Suzie leaned in close to me, her mouth right next to my ear. "It might be kinder to kill him here, John. Rather than let him die by inches, dragging him through the war zones. His screaming would be bound to attract attention. I could do it. I'd be very humane. He wouldn't feel a thing."

"No," I said. "I won't let him down. I won't let him die. He saved my life. He crawled twenty feet in the dirt with half a dozen bullets in his gut to set fire to that rogue anima. Bravest thing I've ever seen. I wasn't the hero he wanted me to be, on our trip into the Past. But he was a hero for me."

I remembered Larry Oblivion's words, from the pitiful last redoubt of my Enemies in the future. He trusted you, even though he had good reason not to. And when they struck him down you just stood there, and watched him die, and did nothing to help.

I looked at Suzie. "How did you get here?"

"Razor Eddie cut a door in the air with his razor, opening up a breach between there and here. All I had to do was step through."

Suzie fixed me with her cold, unwavering gaze. "You want to save him, there's only one thing left. Use your gift, John. Find us a way back to the bar."

"Using my gift is like using the Card," I said reluctantly. "It's another way for Lilith to find me. If I keep pushing my luck, it's bound to run out. But... right now, I'd have to say Tommy's chances are much worse than mine. So."

I fired up my gift, concentrating as hard as I knew how on finding a way out of this mess. Not for me, but for my friends. Because they both came through for me, when I needed them. I pushed hard, gritting my teeth until my jaw ached. Sweat rolled down my face. I could feel some chance, some possibility, close at hand. Something we'd all overlooked. I concentrated till my head ached, a vicious pounding beat of pain, forcing my inner eye, my private eye, to focus in on what I needed. And finally my Sight showed me a door, or at least the essence of a door, hanging before me. It was the opening Razor Eddie had made, with his G.o.dly will and his awful straight razor. The door had closed behind Suzie when Eddie stopped thinking about it, but the rift he'd made was still there, if only potentially. I felt my lips pull back in a death's-head grin that was as much a snarl as anything else. I was back in the game again. I sensed Suzie moving in to stand very close to me, comforting me with her presence, but I couldn't see or hear her.

I hit the potential door with every bit of willpower I had, all my muscles locked solid from the strain, my stomach clenching so painfully I almost cried out; and slowly, inch by inch and moment by moment, the door grew more real and more definite. Sweat was pouring off me now, my whole body aching from the tension, and my head felt like it would fly apart at any moment. Blood poured from my nose and ears, and even oozed up from under my eyelids. I was doing myself some serious damage, pushing my gift harder than I ever had before. My breathing came harsh and rapid, my heart hammered in my chest, and my vision narrowed till all I could see was the door, as real to me as I was, because I made it so. I couldn't feel my hands. Couldn't feel my wounded arm. A terrible chill spread through me. I fell to my knees, and didn't even feel the impact. I could sense Suzie kneeling beside me, yelling my name, but even that was faint and far away.

The door swung open, and I cried out, a harsh rasping cry of victory. The door hung on the air before us, an opening, a window through s.p.a.ce itself. I shut down my gift, and the door remained. I'd broken it to my will. Sight and sound and sensation returned in a rush. Suzie was kneeling beside me, shaking my shoulder with her gloved hand and yelling right into my ear. I slowly turned my head and grinned at her, blood spilling out over my lips, and said something indistinct. She saw I was back and stopped shouting. She produced a surprisingly clean handkerchief from inside her leather jacket and wiped the blood and sweat and tears from my face. When I was ready, she helped me up onto my feet again.

Through the gap in the air I could see right into Strangefellows. Walker and Alex Morrisey were looking back through the gap, their faces slack with almost comic expressions of surprise. I waved cheerfully at them, and they both recovered quickly. Suzie started to help me towards the door.

"No," I made myself say. "Tommy first. I'll heal. He won't."

She nodded and let go of me. I swayed a little, but stayed upright. Suzie picked Tommy up in her arms as though he was a child, and carried him towards the door. He cried out once at the sudden new pain, but that was it. Tough little guy, for an effete existentialist. Suzie took him through the opening into the bar, then came back for me. I walked through the door under my own steam, but it was a near thing. I'd pushed myself too hard this time, and I had a strong feeling I'd have to pay for it, later. I might have werewolf blood in me, but G.o.d alone knew how diluted it was, having pa.s.sed through Belle and Suzie on its way to me. Suzie stuck close to my side, ready to catch me if I fell.

Is there a better definition of love?

We came home to Strangefellows, and I felt the door close very firmly behind me. Alex already had Tommy Oblivion laid out on a table-top, while Betty and Lucy Coltrane hurried to get Alex the repair spells he needed. Tommy's breathing didn't sound at all good. I started to go to him, but I was suddenly hot and cold at the same time, and the bar swayed around me. Suzie lowered me onto a chair, and I collapsed gratefully. I checked myself out as best I could. I didn't seem to be bleeding from anywhere any more, and feeling was flooding back into all parts of my body. It hurt like h.e.l.l. Suzie snapped her fingers imperiously for some clean water and a cloth, and set about cleaning the last of the mess off my face. The cool water felt good on my skin, and my head settled down again.

Razor Eddie stood before me, an intense grey presence in his filthy overcoat, regarding me thoughtfully with his fever-bright eyes. He was holding a bottle of Perrier water. Flies buzzed around him, and up close the smell was really bad.

"You reopened a door I made," he said finally, in his quiet, ghostly voice. "I didn't know you could do that. I didn't think anyone could do that."