Free City of Ghosts by Stacia Kane Page B

and that was good.
    “But where you at this night … Bump got fuckin business there, yay? Ain’t wanting no Churchcops havin a wander-round there.”
    “They found some—” This time she didn’t need the pain. No way was she going to be allowed to let that particular piece of information fly.
    Terrible spoke up, glancing at her as he did so with quick little eye-darts, like he was looking at the sun and couldn’t do it for too long. Only in her case she doubted he was seeing anything bright. “Figure on it bein them body parts, aye, Bump? Ratchet find em, you recall, two days past. That it?”
    “You know about them?”
    His eyebrows cranked up. Right. Of course he did. What went on in Downside that Bump and Terrible didn’t know about?
    “You know who found them?”
    Another dead look.
    “No, seriously. I need to talk to him—her. Whoever. I don’t know if their name’s in the fi—”
    Okay, this was starting to piss her off. On the one hand it was good to get some kind of calibration going, to find out exactly how far she could go. Pushing boundaries had always been one of her hobbies. But she could have done with an easier way to figure out where those boundaries were.
    Plastic rustled: Bump’s pillbag. Probably the same one he’d offered her months ago, when she first got involved with him—well, involved more than the usual buying-selling game they’d been playing for a few years. She’d taken an Oozer before they came in but it wasn’t kicking in. And even if it had been, why the hell not?
    She grabbed two more and chased them with water. The little hand on the clock had sneaked past four; she was crashing hard from the Nips and thought of her bed with the kind of yearning she normally felt for … well, for the pills she’d just swallowed.
    Bump tapped his cane against the floor, setting the gold band around the bottom flashing.
    “So … Sound like Bump got some fuckin knowledge you need right, yay? Like I do some fuckin help for you. Ain’t have they Churchcops all down Bump’s fuckin business, dig, ain’t have it noways. Think we make us a deal, Ladybird, yay? Fine deal Bump got for you.”
    Her sigh felt dragged from the depths of her soul. Great. Working for Bump again.

Chapter Seven
Don’t be afraid to admit to yourself what results you’re looking for, or to ask your friends for help.
— You Can Do This! A Guide for Beginners ,
by Molly Brooks-Cahill
    “I can’t do that,” she said again, and just as he had before, Bump waved an imperious hand as if her objections were lowly servants to be dismissed.
    “Ain’t sayin take Terrible when she fuckin Churchcop along, dig. But after. You ain’t can say you knowledge, yay, but he fuckin can. Bump gots what he needs, so you gets you fuckin needs. Real simple, Ladybird. Ain’t it clean?”
    “I’ll die, Bump. This isn’t something to fuck around with, I took a blood oath—”
    “An you ain’t breakin it, dig. Just doin you some side work, yay? Takin you some protection where you go. Give Bump the listen-down, here, Ladybird. All business Bump’s business, you recall. They black magic shit goes down, Bump’s business. They ain’t got a sweet spot for Bump, guessing, after Bump’s men done give them the crack-up out Chester. Danger for Bump, danger for all, if you dig. Bump gotta get he Churchwitch in it, yay? Ain’t gotta run it up again, do I?”
    No. He didn’t. They’d been through this before; only a few weeks before, no matter that it felt as if a lifetime had passed. Bump ran Downside, and without Bump in control things could get even worse than they were already, hard as that was to believe. Nor was he wrong in assuming the Lamaru’s return put Terrible and Bump in at least as much danger as it put her.
    And there was more to it, much as she hated to admit it. If Bump wanted to bring her in on this, it meant Terrible hadn’t told him about her and Lex. And if Terrible hadn’t told him—despite the reason he’d