"No, Jack. No. Jack, it's not... it's just that I don't think you're a good deal. Sorry."
Crow shook his head. "That's okay."
But it hurt. Saying this was hurting Felix. And he wanted the other man to understand.
"Jack, it's just that... Dammit, they know who you are and they're gunning for you. And they're going to keep gunning for you. And you keep on doing this alone - " Felix stopped abruptly, looked down. "You shouldn't be doing this alone."
Jack Crow's voice was so tired and his eyes were so bright as he replied, "I know. But I can't get anyone else to help me."
"Yeah," Felix muttered.
And no one spoke after that for awhile.
Then Felix stood up, said good night, and left.
Jack watched him go and after he was gone he sighed and dragged out a cigarette and a light and leaned back wearily without lighting it.
He looks so tired, Annabelle thought. I've never seen him so tired.
And then she thought: I've never seen him like this at all.
And she felt the resentment for Felix welling up. Because Jack needed him so - they all needed him. Davette needed him. And Jack had been counting on him so much and he was so good at it and Jack was alone...
So alone.
"Poor bastard," Jack muttered to himself.
"What?" she asked.
"Felix."
"Felix?" she asked, amazed. "Why do you feel so sorry for him?"
Jack's smile was thin and grim. "Because here's this poor jerk who's... Hell, he's young and bright and, in his own way, plenty, plenty strong. And he can't do a goddamned thing but shoot. But he doesn't want to shoot. Doesn't want to be a shooter.
"So he doesn't do anything at all."
Annabelle frowned. "Jack, you're not making me feel any better about him."
He grinned. "But don't you see? Don't you see how he's trapped? Hell, he's always been - "
"All I see is you in a spot and a young... young I-don't-know is too scared to help you."
"Whoa, there, lady. It's not just scared. Besides, scared is smart. He - "
"Jack! Would you stop defending him?" she cried. He stopped, looked at her. "The more you take up for him, the less I like him," she said with exasperation.
And he grinned again.
What is he smiling about?
She had a bad thought.
"Jack, is that what you're hoping for, that the vampires will stop scaring him?"
He shook his head. "Oh, no! They'll never stop scaring him."
"Then what?"
"Sooner or later," he whispered fiercely, "they're going to piss him off."
Part Three Chapter 22
Part Three
The Last Days
Chapter 22
Felix slept hard and woke up late.
He lay there a moment, staring at the ugly ceiling tiles that fit in just right with this ugly motel. Then he rolled his bare feet out onto the floor and sat up and thought: What if she won't come with me?
After all, the girl had no family - save for that wandering Uncle Harley, was it? - and the Team had clearly become everything to her. She and Annabelle were tight, very tight. She loved Jack and she loved big Carl Joplin and Cat and...
Shit.
He went through his morning ritual and then he took a shower and then he sat naked and dripping on the edge of the bed and had a cigarette and thought: What have I got to offer her?
"Staying alive, for one thing!" he muttered out loud.
But it didn't sound as fine as he would have liked.
So he stopped thinking about it. He stubbed out the cigarette and put on some clean clothes and gathered all his other stuff together and sat it on the little card table provided him.
Where his shoulder holster and gun were.
He looked at it a second, then abruptly reached down and dragged the Browning out of its holster and it slid - as had every decent goddamned gun he'd ever known - so easily, so smoothly, into his palm.
He knew, or at least had come to believe, that this feeling was very rare. That most people never felt this natural with a firearm. Some people hated them and some who didn't couldn't see them and most always felt just a little awkward and...
But not him. Not ever. The Browning felt just like...
Just like the end of his hand.
My Lord! he thought wearily, with at least some trace of wry humor, what if it's all just as simple as that?
They were all being terribly cheerful when he got to the suite, but that was okay. Now that he had made the decision to go, nothing much bothered