Or...or I can damp down all the unnatural activity in the immediate area."
"Tell me about that last one," I said.
"It's a simple ceremony," Kim said. "The name for it is Calling Malkuth. It doesn't take a lot of finesse or preparation, which is an advantage because I'm not very good at this. It's fairly easy, since it's essentially calling forth normalcy, and bringing things back to their natural state is simpler than pulling them out of it. I don't think it would be wise to count on me for anything fancy."
"What's it do?" Aaron asked.
"It invokes the material world," Kim said. "It makes riders less powerful. Which means it will affect the bodyguard too. We can't forget about him. It also restricts the kinds of things other people can do. Normal humans who've been trained would find it harder to cast spells or express their will in nonphysical ways."
"What's the downside?" I asked.
"It's indiscriminate," she said. "I can't just affect their side. So you wouldn't be able to do anything either."
"Okay."
"And I don't know what it would do to the protections Eric put on you." That she looked down when she said it was enough to show that this was her real objection.
"Tell me about that," I said.
"Well. Chogyi and Midian both said that there have been things about you...that you've been surprisingly good with some kinds of fighting, that you're harder than usual to locate using nonmaterial means. If Eric had protections on you, Calling Malkuth would diminish them. And then I don't know that afterward they would come back."
"What if she wasn't there?" Candace asked. "If Jayn茅 didn't come, then she wouldn't need to be there when you did the-" She waved her hands like a stage magician.
"I'll be there," I said. "If it's a risk, that's fine. I'll take it."
"No. Don't just make a snap decision like that. Think about this," Kim said. "We don't know all of what Eric's done. We don't know what other work we might be interfering with. I don't want...I don't want to be responsible for breaking something I can't fix."
She shrugged, and I understood what she wasn't saying. I was her husband's lover. There was a whole side of her that wanted nothing more than to see me hurt. She didn't trust herself.
"Okay," I said. "I'll think about it. But right now, it's the option that sounds the best to me."
The food came. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until my first mouthful. Then I couldn't stop. The sun pressed down on the world. A constant trickle of sweat ran down between my shoulder blades. It was Sunday. The last day in the worst week of a life that had a couple other real contenders.
Maybe Tuesday wasn't the right time. Two days didn't seem long enough to really plan out what I was going to do, all the possibilities and contingencies. All the things that could go wrong. I paid the bill with cash when it came. There was still a part of me that shuddered a little bit at a single meal that cost over fifty dollars. A month ago, it wouldn't have been something I could afford. Now it was subliminal. Next month, it could be up to whoever was catering my funeral.
The street mall was permanently blocked to cars. We'd parked in the structure underneath the restaurant, so when we left, the direction was down. The garage was pretty full, but also offered the kind of cool that comes with being underground in the unkind heat of August. We angled for Candace's sedan, and I fell into step beside Kim. She looked over at me, then away. A motorcycle whined.
I didn't know what was happening until Aaron had already pushed me down between two cars. Candace and Kim were crouched low and following. A pistol had appeared in his hand as if from nowhere. The motorcycle's engine dropped to a lower hum.
"What?" I whispered.
"The bike," Aaron said. "It's been following us. I wasn't sure before. The thing is the guy on the bike keeps changing."
"More than one person?"
"He changed in the middle of traffic," Aaron said. "He was a big black guy, and then about half a block later, he was an Asian chick. I thought maybe it was just similar bikes, but..."
I moved forward. The motorcycle was at the end of the row, pointing vaguely toward the exit. The man sitting on it was craning his neck, looking for something. Looking for us. He pulled something