Night Prayers (35 page)

Lord, humble the pride of Our enemies and let the might of Your right hand crush their arrogance.

"Amen."

Sitting back, Mica looked over at Allison and smiled.

Then frowned.

Allison was holding onto her knees, rocking slowly back and forth on her rump.

"You
felt
that?" he asked.

She nodded and brushed the blood red tears off her face. They smeared into a perfect blush.

"Just another thing they don't put in the recruiting posters. I really should talk to my congressman about it." She looked up at him and smiled. "But don't get too comfortable,
Preacher-boy
, you're not finished yet."

He looked down at Luci's shriveling remains and shrugged.

"Not
her
," Allison said, lowering her knees into an Indian position, "me."

"Now wait a minute…"

"Just do it quickly, okay?" She lifted her chin and closed her eyes — a brave little girl about to get a shot, with nothing but the tiniest quiver along her lips to show how scared she really was. "And no prayers… at least not until
after
."

Mica looked down at the stake protruding from the rotting corpse at his knees
and —

Jesus destroyed Your own temple because He found it to be Evil, Lord… and You destroyed the whole of the world with the Great Flood because Evil had taken over. Evil must be rooted out and destroyed where ever we find it and these are Evil creatures, Lord. EVIL! Whores of Satan who prey on the souls and desires of men and feed on them. FEED ON THEM as if we were merely cattle. They are evil… EVIL…

"I can't kill you," Mica shouted as he stood up. "You saved my life, dammit. I can't just…" He looked at the stake again and felt the room twist under his feet.

"I
won't
, Allison."

"But won't that get you into trouble with…" She pointed one finger straight up.

Mica smiled and tugged on the front of his shirt.

"He'll forgive me."

Allison was shaking her head as she pushed herself to her feet. Mica fought both the urge to rush over to help… and to gasp out loud when the red lingerie became jeans and a tank top. He was going to have to get used to that.

"Now what?" she asked.

"Now we get out of here — you and me."

Allison dipped her head and gazed up at him through her lashes.

"You really are as crazy is Luci said you were. I'm one of the bad guys," she said, sprouting fangs. "Wemembur?"

"Huh? No, wait, listen to me…" He took a step toward her and watched her back up. Quickly
— her nose twitching a mile a minute. "Sorry. You're
not
like these others… if you were I'd be dead right now. Drained.

"Okay, so you're a Vampire… you fucking saved my life tonight. More importantly, you saved my soul, Allison. I think…" Mica took another step forward and smiled when she stood still. "I think we were brought together to give each other a second chance."

"I'm dead, Mica," Allison said. "All my chances are gone."

"Not if you
believe
."

Another look flickered across her face.

You're going to pray for in v soul. Aren't you?

Mica touched the brim of the cap with three fingers.

Religiously.

Then kill me now.

It was a joke — and Mica laughed at it.

"So where does a poor single vampire and an escaped homicidal maniac go to start a new life." Allison looked him up and down and shook her head. "Or
afterlife
, in my case?"

Mica was about to say something stupid like "Anywhere they want" when Allison suddenly bit her bottom lip and pointed.

Miriam — butt high on her hands and knees — turned around and hissed at them.

Mica bent down and pulled the stake out of the moldering lumps of flesh that had once been Luci. He'd think about taking off the head later… if there was still a head to worry about once she finished rotting.

"I forgot about her," he said.

"Me, too." Mica watched Allison pull out another chair and sit down, already rubbing a spot between her breasts. "Don't worry… it's just like a bad case of heartburn."

Right.

Taking a deep breath, Mica wiped the stake off on the leg of his jeans and walked toward the minuscule vampire. He always knew working for the Lord was a twenty-four hour job… but he never thought it would involve quite so much manual labor.

The bus station was still packed even though it was heading hard onto four in the morning.

Fresh meat coming in… losers going out.

Honeymooners starting out on a shoestring, senior citizens sticking close to their bleary-eyed tour leader, kids thinking the bright lights meant easy pickings, high rollers who lost it all on that "one last toss".

Hookers moving slowly up and down the walkways — vultures in black spandex and heels.

Mica
Loved
it.

"… and Jesus destroyed the temple because it had fallen into corruption and evil. Pleasures of the flesh and gambling abounded and it was wrong.
Wrong
!

"Those of you who are slinking back home with your tails between your legs
know
how wrong it is. Those of you who are coming in thinking this is an easy way to the good life had better just turn around and head back to where you came from. Because this
isn't
easy. You're all standing at the rim of the Abyss about to take that first long step down!"

A sleepy child looked up at Mica from the safety of her father's shoulder and yawned.
Bringing a little thing like that to a place like this… Lord, humble that man and make him see what treasures he already has
!

"But it's still not too late," Mica said to the crowd in general — and to the child's father in particular. "You made a bad choice but it's still not too late to turn that mistake around. Read
this
before you let those bright lights draw you into the flames of HELL!"

Mica shook the latest edition of his pamphlet,
GOD's Slot-Machine — The only one that really PAYS OFF
, at the crowd and was ignored.

Again.

Just like every night.

But no one said this job was going to be easy, did they Lord?

Stuffing the pamphlets back into his nylon brief-case, Mica ignored their ignorance and blessed them just the same.

Most of them were going to need it before night fell again.

Mica felt her watching even before she spoke.

Ready to head out?

He turned and saw her standing near the Terminal entrance — just another show girl in shorts and top waiting for her man.

Allison… now called Raven. Just like he was
John
. The MTV Generation's voice calling in the wilderness.

She'd added a little padding to her curves ("This is Vegas, Mica… and they want tits and ass more than Luci ever did") and wore her
natural
blue-black hair in a short fluffy cut ("… easier to get those damned head-dresses on…"). Although, sometimes when they were alone, she would literally let her hair down — long and loose and the color of autumn leaves in the sunset.

Yeah
, Mica said, zipping the case closed,
no one's paying any attention anyway
.

Now there's a surprise!

Throwing the shoulder strap over his arm, Mica tugged the
I went to Las Vegas and this is all I WON baseball cap
lower over his forehead and pushed his way through the crowd.

Toward her.

"Hello, beautiful stranger," he said when he got to her.

"Hello right back at'cha."

They kissed — an old married couple kind of kiss — and threw their arms lightly around each other as they headed out. It had only taken Allison a couple of months to develop a kind of immunity to him. Now she only sneezed if
— and
when
— he was able to sneak up on her from behind.

"Rough night?" he asked as they jay-walked with the rest of the crowd through the heavy pre-dawn traffic. It seemed that in the six months they'd been here, Mica had never seen the roads leading to and from the famous Strip empty… or at least passable. But, of course, he couldn't say anything about what the streets might look like from dawn to dusk. He slept during the days now.

"Not too bad," Allison said. "After the show this one guy offered me a thousand bucks for a quickie up in his room."

"And?"

Allison patted the thick belly pack she wore low on the hip — then patted her belly.

"Which reminds me," she said, "did
you
eat?"

Mica nodded and belched. "I grabbed a burger and fries."

He could hear her sigh deep inside his head.
Do you know what that garbage is doing to you
?

Yeah
, he said,
making me unappetizing
.

She swatted him hard enough across the seat of the pants to raise him up an inch.

"Cretin."

Mica hugged her close as they passed a dark plate glass window. The reflection showed a thin man with shoulder length blonde hair (courtesy of Miss Clarol's
Living Color)
and full beard walking down the street with his arm floating in mid-air.

Going solo.

"Anyone tell you lately how pretty you are?" he asked, turning back to the more substantial illusion in his arms.

"Just dinner," Allison said, patting her tummy again.

Mica shook his head — she loved doing that to him — and hurried her across a less traveled intersection at Scotland Lane.

The glitz and glamour of Las Vegas was behind them and they were heading into
their
section of town
— older, run-down… heavy industry mixed with "working men" bars. A part of Vegas the travel agents and Chamber of Commerce didn't talk about.

A part of town that actually looked
better
in the piss-colored glow of the sodium street lights.

Home.

The hot night wind caught them as they took the first right. Mica took a deep breath and filled his lungs with her scent
— musk and rust with just the faintest tang of raw meat left out too long. He'd gotten used to that, too… like not being able to see her refection in glass.

It wasn't that bad. All things considered.

You sure you had enough
? he asked.
We could pick up someone on the way home
.

Allison slipped her hand into the back pocket of his jeans and began kneading his ass.

"I'm fine."

You're better than fine… You're great!

Mica hadn't planned it, but he stopped and pulled her into his arms, kissing her passionately. Her tongue tasted like his socks smelled. He'd gotten used to that, too.

Allison punched his arm gently when he let her go. And sneezed.

"B-word to you," he said.

"Thanks," she sniffled. "Mind warning me the next time your hormones decide to kick in?"

"What? And loose all that spontaneity?"

She tugged him back into a walk and ran a hand through her shortened locks.

"The Lord's gonna get you for that,
Preacher-boy.
"

"Nope… the Lord will Forgive me my trespasses as He'll Forgive you yours."

Allison pressed her hand to her chest and groaned.

Shit
. "Sorry! I'm sorry… I keep forgetting. I'm sorry!"

Allison looked up at him, the pain leaving her face, and shook her head.

"That's okay," she said, "I'm getting used to it."

Mica kept silent for another hundred feet before the tattered remains of Police cordon tape and a faded chalk outline on the sidewalk in front of them gave him something else to think about.

"You know, maybe we should think about moving to a better area. With the money you get at the casino… and
other
places, we could even buy us a condo over in that new Yuppie part of town."

"Why? So we can have bar-b-ques and hang out at the jaccuzi like all the other up and comers?"

It was an old argument — six months old, in fact — and Mica didn't have any illusions about winning it. It bothered him that Allison had to live in such a run down section of town.