He’d proven to be a real supporter, even though he couldn’t do anything about the archbishop. The archbishop would shit when he saw the book. I hoped it was a hard one.Amy had a new girlfriend—at least I assumed it was a girl. They were roller derby teammates and, in this relationship, Amy was the fem and Glo was the butch. Glo wore leathers and glared at me every time she was near. Amy’s little sister, Trudi, was there, too.“What are your plans, Tony?” Noelle James asked me.“Well, we’re moving at the end of the month. Kate and I are getting married in July, and by that time Lissa should have our girl.”“Not to mention that you’ve been distracted from painting long enough,” Clarice said. “You and Kate have gallery openings soon.”“I’ve been working all year, Clarice,” I whined. We’d talked about this enough times to have our call and response worked out.“You need paintings people can hang on their walls, not have to go to church to see.”It was almost three a.m. by the time we got. Well, almost no reason. (But were I you, I might button up your top to the neck. I am after all, only inhuman...)So I'm about to fly up and greet her when I see the boy. Ah! (It was always my pleasure to watch her work. As complicated and beautiful as a spider in a web. And as heartless.)Things you don't know about my kind, part three: It's always about that we can fly with you! You never ask about immortality or the feeding or the history. It's always, 'What's it like to fly?' You are funny. If you really want to know what it's like, buy a motorbike, rev it up to a hundred miles an hour and drive it over the Grand Canyon. The sensation will last three seconds for you but that's what it feels like. Except longer for us. A lot longer, in fact. I'm obviously not suggesting you really do that. (It would be a waste...)The boy is wearing an apron and smoking a spliff. A waiter from one of the waterfront bars on a break, I'm guessing. He sees her. I step into the shadows and watch in.
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