Angel Souls and Devil Hearts Read Free Page A

West Show was back—Allison had covered it for CNN—and now Will had made her book, Jihad , into a film, producing and directing it himself. They had spent a
month-and-a-half shooting it, and then another six weeks in London editing the monster, and now they were, for real, on vacation. Time to just enjoy each other.
    Allison truly loved Will, a good and decent man by any estimation, although most of the world would not admit he even was a man. No matter, though, they were happy. She had become a sort of
financial advisor to him, because though he never had trouble making money, he had a terrible time hanging on to it. They talked about getting married someday, but there were no laws as yet to
govern such a union, and with Will’s involvement in the SJS, the Shadow Justice System . . . they’d decided to wait. And if that time never came, well, Allison was happy.
    Now, hand in hand, they walked through the beautiful Mirabell Gardens, deep breaths drawing in the scent of the flowers and the unseasonably nippy air. They marveled at the design of the garden
and its colors, the architecture of the palace, Schloss Mirabell, home to the city’s mayor. They chuckled over the statuary, especially the gnomelike creatures carved from stone, and sat by
the fountain. They talked and laughed, kissed and held each other close.
    And yet their eyes, like the eyes of every other visitor to Salzburg, were always drawn back to the Festung Hohen-salzburg, the huge fortress overlooking the city from its southern edge, across
the river.
    “You’re right, darlin’,” Cody said finally, giving her a little squeeze. “The place is creepy. Still, it has a power and a . . . a majesty that is quite
attractive.”
    “Okay, okay,” she said, giving in. “Tomorrow morning, first thing, we’ll go.”
    “Promise?”
    “I promise. God, what a baby!”
    “Why, madam,” Cody said, lapsing into the cadence of the American West, “I do believe that was an insult.”
    “Believe whatever you want, Buffalo—”
    “Don’t say it!”
    But she was off and running, with Cody in pursuit. As much as he was still trading off the nickname of his human life, with his books and the Wild West Show, that was for fun. In real life, he
hated the name, and she knew it.
    “You’re in trouble now!” Will shouted after Allison as she headed for the gate and the road, Rainerstrasse, beyond.
    Salzburg, Austria, European Union.
Monday, June 5, 2000, 7:26 P.M. :
    Humanity had been surprised to find out how few shadows there actually were. When CNN had initially broken the news of their existence, most had an unrealistic reaction, honed
from decades of first cold war, then terrorist paranoia—“ Thry're among us, everywhere.” In truth, Cody guessed that the shadows numbered in the mid-five figures somewhere.
Not a lot of vampires to go around.
    Still, most major cities had a few, and so it was not surprising that he and Allison ran into a shadow on the street outside their hotel that evening.
    “Will Cody, right?” the shadow asked.
    “That I am, sir. And you are?”
    “John Courage, Mr. Cody, and pleased to meet you.”
    “John Courage?” Allison smiled. “As in, ‘give me a pint of Courage’?”
    “Yes, ma’am. That’s right,” Courage said, returning the smile with his own, self-deprecating version, then turning his attention back to Cody. “But that particular
brew was named after me , not the other way around. And aren’t I modest?”
    They laughed politely, good-naturedly.
    “I live here in Salzburg, now,” Courage told them. “I’m a musician. Twice a week I play sax at the Urbanikeller, the jazz club.”
    Even though he shouldn’t have been, Cody was surprised. They were really doing it, he thought. Shadows were actually merging with human society. Will smiled at the boy, who might well have
been hundreds of years older than he was.
    “What time’s your show tonight?”
    “Ten P.M. ”
    “We’ll be there,” Allison