Sorceress, Interrupted - By A. J. Menden Page 0,35
if we wreck, the roof gets taken off, you fly up and get decapitated? Nothing survives decapitation, Fantazia. Not even you.”
I rolled my eyes. “In the unlikely event of decapitation, you can say I told you so as we’re on our way to the underworld.” But I did as he asked and fastened the belt.
“That’d make for an uncomfortable ride across the river Styx,” he mused. Then he turned a knob on the dashboard, and rock-and-roll music roared out through the speakers. “That’s what I’m talking about!” He put the pedal to the metal, so to speak, whipping me back against the seat, and we peeled out.
“You’re a terrible driver, Cyrus,” I pointed out.
“Why?” he asked. “Because I’m fast? I’d make a great race car driver. Ever think of that?”
“And you have lousy taste in music.”
“You should see my taste in women,” he retorted.
I had nothing to say to that, and so we rode in relative silence—unless you count the blaring music—the rest of the way.
Before too long we were at our destination. Cyrus pulled up in front of a run-down strip mall. We passed a nail salon, a few empty storefronts and a paycheck-cashing place. Faded posters completely covered the windows at the establishment at the end. A small sign declared the business was open, but you couldn’t otherwise tell.
“What is this place?” I asked, getting out of the car and putting a hand up to block the glare of the setting sun.
“Chad’s home away from home,” Cyrus said. “Now, just stay by me and follow my lead. Trust me, you’re going to love this. Hot-looking chick like you is going to be a goddess in a place like this.”
A goddess? I gave a small smile and followed.
He pushed the door open; a bell rang above the door as he did. The inside of the room was relatively dark, lit by several weak fluorescent bulbs above. The room smelled of musty books and sweat. There were several men crouched around tables set up in the middle of the room, and they were playing cards. There were a few other men roaming the store, flipping through some boxes set up along the wall.
I leaned close to Cyrus. “We’re in a comic book store,” I whispered.
“I know,” he whispered back.
All eyes in the room locked on me. Some openly stared; others blushed and turned away. But I definitely had the attention of all the men in the room.
Cyrus turned to the card players. “Where’s Chad?”
“In the can,” one of the players grumbled. He was wearing a T-shirt with a faded picture of a zombie. As I got closer, I could see the cards were displayed in front of them like battle lines and had different types of monsters. Each player had a multisided die. “We had to stop the game for him.”
“We’ll wait,” Cyrus said. Turning to me he said, “Of everyone I know, he keeps up the most with the kinds of things we need to know.”
“That your girlfriend?” one of the card players asked, a youngster who reminded me of Dylan with a case of bad acne. He could barely take his eyes off my chest.
“Nah, she’s a free agent. You interested?” Cyrus asked. The boy blushed red to the tips of his ears and went back to studying his cards, saying nothing.
I walked over to the shelves, perusing the books and action figures on display. There was the usual vampire, werewolf and zombie fare, tales of all the imaginary beings that go bump in the night. There were even a few superhero comics—fictionalized stories, but fully authorized, of course—by heroes who had sold away story and licensing rights. Anything for a buck, I guess.
I held up one with the Elite Hands of Justice logo on the front. “Do you think we should buy this for Wesley?” I asked Cyrus.
“The Reincarnist has never appeared in that series,” said a guy in a T-shirt declaring him a zombie slayer, walking over to me. “Those books stick to the format of the Elite Hands of Justice Morning Hour, which replaced him with a teen sidekick by the name of Buddy.”
“The television executives thought it’d better for children to have a character they can relate to, someone their age and not an immortal magician,” another guy piped up.
I blinked and eyed Cyrus. “What are they babbling about?”
“A cartoon series. On television. It’s quite popular. They’re behind, though. I don’t even think they’ve added Phenomenal Girl 5 to the roster yet.”