Night Prayers (20 page)

…
left
…
the right thing to do she didn't… the Lord would have

Forgiven her… Allison… not the Lord… she's not Piper… Piper's gone Lord

help me to see Thy Light

Allison

"Mica, look," she said, breaking contact, "if you don't want to talk about it…"

He looked at her, shaking his head. "No, no it's okay, I don't mind. You called me Mica."

"I'm sorry."
Shit… what sin have I committed now? "Isn't that your name
?"

"Yeah," he said. "Yes it is, but usually everybody just calls me Preacher-boy."

Allison fumbled with the sunglasses and shrugged.

"I'm not like everybody else."
And that's the truth
, "Well… are you going to tell me why you hang out in graveyards or should I start worrying?"

Not that Allison was really interested. He could get off on preaching to the dead for all she cared. All she wanted was for him to get so involved with the story he was about to tell that he wouldn't notice her doing a mental mind-sweep for Luci.

The sun screen wasn't living up to Luci's glowing account and just being within praying distance of the man was giving Allison hives.
What the HELL kind of sick, mid-warped game was Luci playing — throwing them together and then splitting for parts unknown
?

The subliminal echoes were silent… almost as if Luci had really left them alone.

Together.

SHIT!

"… then, when we made love…"

Allison wasn't sure if it was the scent of blood filling the blush in Mica's cheeks or the sentence that caught her attention.

"Excuse me?"

The blood deepened as he tossed his cup into the trash.

"Piper," he said softly, "the girl I was telling you about. After we walked out on the debate, we came here and talked… Lord, it must have been hours. Then it just sort of happened."

The blood scent pulled at her.

"You made love to her." Allison felt the tips of her fangs tingle as they elongated. "That was nice."

But Mica was shaking his head — moving away from her, back out into the direct sunlight.

"No. No it was wrong and I
knew
it! The Lord put her in my path as a test… and I almost failed it." The color faded from Mica's face as he talked
— going back to its normal unappetizing pasty-white. "I almost let her into my heart."

Allison's fangs snapped back so quickly they almost gave her whiplash.

"What's wrong with that?" she asked.

"My heart only has room enough for the One True Love. Anything else… any
other
kind of love is indulgent and self-serving and —"

"So you sucked her dry and left —
shit
!" Allison spun around and slapped the corner of Cecil B.'s tomb. The corner exploded into grey dust. "You're no better than Seth."

"Seth?"

Allison watched him step back into the shadows — his hand lifting toward her, instant concern replacing the self-pity in his eyes.

"Did this man Seth hurt you? Do you want to talk about it, because I'll listen. I'll listen and help you. With the Lord's help I swear I will —"

Piper.

Allison heard the name as clearly as if he'd said it out loud. Piper… the girl who had threatened to push God from his heart.

Mica took another step toward her. Allison felt her belly twist inside.

"I would… rather not talk about it," she said, a limb brushing against her head as she backed away. "Maybe later. Okay?"

"You sure?" He didn't seem to mind when she didn't answer; just shifted into another mode
— this one of Tour Guide. "You want to see something really neat? Come on."

Mica's fingers closed around her wrist and Allison waited for the fiery pits of Hell to open beneath her undead feet and suck her down like a grape.

The ground didn't so much as heave.

But she did.

"I still can't believe I did that," Allison said as she followed him through the mausoleum's muted light. "It must have been some…
thing
I ate last night."

When their hands touched it was as if a cherry-bomb had gone off in Allison's stomach. She could no more stop the gelatinous, ruddy fluid from gushing out her mouth than she could have sprouted wings and flown away. Which, during the five minute regurgitation, she had tried to accomplish with the utmost zeal; while Mica stood by, like a plaster saint, and prayed for the Lord to give her strength.

But the session had done one thing, Allison no longer had the urge to sneeze when he got close. Now she just wanted to puke.

"Don't worry about it, I do the same thing after one of Gypsy's late night to-dos." A shadow flickered past his eyes but it disappeared too fast for even Allison to second guess its origin. "Oh, we're here! Come on, Allison, I want you to meet someone."

Allison watched as he skipped off into one of the side rooms that lead off the long central hall
— Mondo Condos for the dead — and rubbed her gurgling stomach. Luci was in here with them.
Somewhere
. Allison had felt her the moment they entered the mausoleum, but so far Luci was still happy with her little game of Hide-n-Seek.

Bitch!

Allison waited for the scathing mind-to-mind rebuttal.

Nothing.

"Damn."

"You say something, Allison?" Mica asked, poking his head out from around the corner.

"No. Nothing at all."

"Good," he said, crooking his finger at her, "come on."

"Right… like whoever it is, is going to get up and leave."

"What?" his voice echoed to her.

"Nuthin'."

When she got around the corner, Mica was running his hand slowly along one of the brass name plates half-way up the wall. White silk rose-buds adorned the two plastic vases that flanked it.

"This is Peter Finch," he said.

Allison walked close enough to get a good look (and feel her stomach turn over on itself) and nodded.

"Yo, Pete."

Mica laughed, taking no offense, and patted the actor's final resting place again.

"I remember seeing him… I mean
really
seeing him in
Network
. That was such a powerful movie." He glanced back over his shoulder at her without moving his hand. "Did you see it?"

"I think I saw it on cable."

"No, then you missed a lot. You really needed to see it on the big screen to get the full impact of what he was saying." Mica shook his head and turned around. "The character he played, Howard Beale, wasn't the Mad Prophet of the Airways that Faye Dunaway's character said he was… he was a
real
Prophet. He was telling people the Truth and that's why he was killed."

"I thought it was because of bad ratings," Allison said.

Mica looked hurt.

"No, that's what the producers
wanted
you to believe, but if you pay attention you'll start hearing the Voice of the Lord actually speaking through Peter Finch."

Allison pulled her dark glasses down on her nose and stared over the frames at him. She was suddenly glad she was already dead. If she were still a Breather, the thought of being alone with a man who made saints out of actors would have frightened the shit out of her.

"You know," he said, finally laying the actor to rest and turning away, "I have a copy of it over at my… place, if you'd like to see it. I could point out the Prophetic passages for you."

Shit, was he THAT lonely?

"Gee, you know I'd love to," she said, returning the glasses to their original position, "but I think I'm going to be pretty busy for the next couple of
—
(centuries)
— weeks… at the least. You know with the new job and all… learning the routines and stuff."

The excuse even sounded weak to her. But what the hell.

"But, maybe after things settle down a bit." Allison shrugged, lifted her hand to stare at the gold-and-onyx Chronograph that hadn't been on her wrist a moment before and frowned. "Gee, look at the time. I think I'd better find Luci and
—"

Allison's body suddenly stopped moving… with the exception of her chest which rose and fell as if she just ran the L.A. Marathon.

"Allison? Are you okay?"

Mica was coming straight at her and she could do about as much to stop him as she could to stop her cowgirl shirt's pearlized snaps from popping open.
What the fuck —
?

Relax, Alley-cat. I'm just giving the Preacher-boy something else to think about when he gets down on his knees tonight.

The last snap parted and her naked breasts (she hadn't
thought
about underwear) surged into full, bouncy view.

"My…
God
."

His fingers burned her nipples as he caressed them.

"Mica. Please — don't."

"It's not too late." His voice was hoarse as he lowered his face to her breast. She felt his tongue
— a tongue of fire — slide down over her flesh. "I can help you. Whatever happened to you I can help. Believe and it will happen. Just ask the Lord to help and He will. Just one word can restore your soul, just
—" one bite and Life Eternal can be yours.

His lips found her nipples and closed around them. Psalms and seduction. Whoever Piper was she was damned lucky to have gotten away when she did.

"You fucking hypocrite."

Without anger or emotion of any kind, Allison shook off Luci's control and hurled the
Preacher-boy
back first into the wall of tombs. One of the plastic vases fell to the floor and bounced, disgorging its white silk rosebud.

"Oh!"

Luci appeared in the hallway, sunglasses in hand, blinking those great, green eyes of hers.

Alley-cat… I'm shocked!

Any particular reason you did that
? Allison refastened her shirt.

Take a look.

Mica was peeling himself off the brass name plates slowly, gingerly… his face and neck flushed bright red, but not from embarrassment. Dead or alive, Allison knew lust when she saw it.

I don't believe him.

Oh, you can believe it, Alley-cat. Breathers are about as dumb as cattle when you get right down to it. I've seen bulls follow a cow straight into a slaughter house… and this little bull is going to do the same. A couple more sessions and I think he'll be ready, ELSIE.

Fuck you, Luci
, Allison thought as she spun on her heels and stormed out of the room.

"And fuck you, too —
Preacher-BOY
!"