Angel Souls and Devil Hearts Read Free Page B

said, reading Cody’s intentions.
    “I’m flattered, Ms. Vigeant,” John Courage said sincerely.
    “You know me?” she asked.
    “Shouldn’t I?” Courage replied, and raised an eyebrow. “Say, if you two are headed to dinner, I have a wonderful tip. Try the Peterskeller, off Kapitelplatz by St.
Peter’s Cemetery.”
    “It’s that good?” Allison asked, knowing any meal was really for her rather than for Cody, and thinking how courteous it was for this shadow even to mention dining, since his
kind needed such sustenance not at all.
    “It’s incredible!” Courage said. “I’m told the food is wonderful, but the atmosphere is . . . It’s the oldest restaurant in the country, about twelve
centuries old, and local legend says it’s where Mephistopheles met up with Faust.”
    “Sounds great,” Allison said, and meant it.
    “Say, John,” Cody began, “why don’t you come to dinner with us?”
    Courage looked surprised and pleased by the offer.
    “Really I’d love to, but I’ve got a lot to do before tonight’s set. Please do come by the club, though. It would be an honor, really.”
    Will looked at Allison, who nodded.
    “We’ll be there,” he confirmed.
    Courage continued on his way, and Allison and Will left their hotel, the Goldener Hirsch, behind. They walked along Getreidergasse, window-shopping the whole way, chattering about the wonders of
the Old City, as that part of Salzburg was called. They had arrived late the night before, and that day had explored the right bank of the Salzach River, the Makartplatz, Mirabell Gardens and the
shops along the winding cobblestones of Linzer Gasse. Tonight, though, they wanted to stroll, not explore. On their map, they found the location of Peterskeller, the restaurant John Courage had
suggested, and now they turned their feet in that direction.
    In Residenzplatz, they passed the archbishop’s palace and the Salzburg Cathedral with little more than an appreciative glance. Music played somewhere in the background, Mozart, to be
sure—the city was, after all, the composer’s birthplace. The carillon bells of the Glockenspiel sounded out the harmony of 8 P.M. just as they reached
Peterskeller but all of that was for tomorrow, for the day. Now that Cody could experience both, he set the daylight hours aside for the trivia of life. Nighttime was for actual living.
    The restaurant was as wonderful as Courage had described it. Will and Allison had a chuckle over the shadow’s name, and she threatened to call him “Bud Weiser” next time they
met. Arm in arm, the couple passed through a courtyard with vaults cut right out of the mountainside, then ate in a brick cellar with extraordinary chandeliers. Allison was delighted with the
flavor of the dumplings she had ordered, and she even convinced Will to try some of her cheese soup.
    Later, as they made their way to the Urbanikeller to catch John Courage’s ten o’clock set, Allison’s eyes returned to the fortress, which towered still above their heads, above
the city. She had been constantly aware of the huge castle, which could be seen from nearly any point in the city, ever present, ever vigilant.
    “Even at night,” she said to Will as they reached the club. “Even at night it watches.”
    “Maybe it’s standing guard,” Will suggested, grabbing her hand and squeezing as he opened the door to the place.
    “Maybe,” she answered.
    But that’s not how it feels.
    Salzburg, Austria, European Union.
Tuesday, June 6, 2000, 11:42 A.M.:
    Will and Allison sat down for a late breakfast in the hotel restaurant, though it was a lot closer to lunch. John Courage had played two sets the night before, and he was good
enough that they stayed through the second. Between sets, Courage joined them for a drink, and they both found him refreshingly offbeat, even for a shadow. His self-deprecating humor was equally
balanced by an often caustic wit, and he seemed to know everything there was to know about