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a can of weak beer and the earring of a hysterical teenage ace who'd probably be even less help. "So are you."

"So what? You're gonna electrocute me now?"

"I could," Ellen lied, "but my power's more than that. I channel the dead, and I channel their powers. You've already met my friend Nick." A beer can was not a will-o'-wisp, but if she held it in her fingertips, it felt the same, and Hoodoo Mama could see the pose. "He's the shocker." She gritted her teeth, forcing herself not to betray any emotion or any hint that she would probably never be able to call Nick again. "But don't worry, you got your licks in."

"Heh," Hoodoo Mama snorted, leaning back in her chair. "Guess I did." She gestured to the zombies and they stepped back to their former positions, all except for the chef, who proceeded to put the chickens in the oven and adjust the dials.

"You ran over my ass, too," Jonathan mentioned lamely.

The girl ignored him, still looking at Ellen. She took a sip of beer. "So," she said after a while, "this morning, that really fuckin' was Miss Partridge?" Ellen nodded. "Fuck," the girl swore. "I really liked that ol' lady. She was one of the few fuckers who ever gave a damn about me." She rubbed at the corner of her eye and then slammed her beer, seeming to reach a decision. "So what do you fuckers want?"

Ellen glanced to Bubbles, who was sort of official spokeswoman, even if Ellen had been doing most of the talking. "Well," Bubbles said slowly, "what we'd like is for you to stop screwing us up. We're trying to save people's lives here."

"What about that fuckin' vampire bitch, Lilith?" The girl glared. "She's been stealin' little kids. I ain't read much of the Bible, but I fuckin' know about Lilith the Child Stealer."

There was a glance between the Committee members, and Jonathan was the first to answer: "She just thought the name sounded sexier than Teleporting Eurotrash Girl."

Josephine Hebert handed her empty can to the chef zombie. "Okay, I'll fuckin' give you that."

"You know," Bubbles said, "there are two more storms. We could use your help."

Jonathan opened, "The UN does have some money . . ."

"Fuck that," Hoodoo Mama snorted dismissively. "You know how many fuckers die wearin' wedding bands and fuckin' diamond engagement rings? I've got a whole fuckin' box full of bling." She gestured to the mantelpiece. Amid the candles was a makeshift altar, with feathers and shells and the photograph of a woman who would have been attractive if not for the ravages of hard living. And beside the photograph sat an old wooden jewelry box.

Ellen stifled a ghoulish itch to open that box and see who lived inside it.

Bubbles sighed. "All we really need is a truce."

Hoodoo Mama shrugged. "Okay, fine, you've got it." She glanced to the three of them. "Anything else you fuckers want?"

There was a long uncomfortable silence with glances between Michelle and Jonathan, and between Ellen and the watchful eyes of all the zombies before she finally settled on Hoodoo Mama's. "Can you really see through the eyes of the dead? Even animals?"

Josephine Hebert grinned proudly. "Fuck, yeah."

Hope is a thing with wings. In this case, a dead pigeon. A whole loft of them. "I lost something when the levee broke," Ellen told her. "A hat. An old gray fedora."

"You fuckin' want me to look for a hat?"

"Yes." Ellen bit her lower lip. "It . . . it belonged to my friend Nick."

Hoodoo Mama gave her a sly look. "You can't work your mojo without a personal object, can you?"

"No," Ellen admitted. "I know you don't want money, but if there's anything else, anyone you'd want to talk to . . ." She glanced to the photo on the mantel, the candlelight flickering over the tired woman's face.

Josephine Hebert looked as well. "You're a fuckin' dangerous bitch," she said at last, "but fine, I'll keep my eyes out. But not because you'll let me talk to my mama. I'll do it because I saw what you did for PJ. You ain't as cold a fuckin' bitch as you let on."

Ellen broke eye contact with the dead woman's photograph to look at her daughter. "Thank you."

Hoodoo Mama nodded, then looked at all of them. "So are you gonna get the fuck out now, or you still wanna stay for dinner?"

There was a second awkward silence, broken a moment later by a digitized version of