Everybody got quiet then, and it had nothing to do with me. It was about what I’d fought. Nobody wanted to face what and who it may have been. It was Sam who finally broached the topic with his usual grace.

“So you think it was the devil-man himself that whupped you?”

I shook my head. “Doubt it. I’d like to think the big guy wouldn’t be that easy to beat. If it was, then I’m the luckiest fucker walking the earth.”

Everybody agreed, but all the talk was getting on my nerves. I turned up the IV flow.

Sam had one more thing to ask as I slipped into a drugged-out haze. “Look,” he said nervously, “I’m thinking I might move around a bit. You know, get away, see the world and all that crap. I was wondering if you were planning on sticking around L.A. for awhile and . . .”

“Yes,” I said, “I’m staying. Thith placccccce is . . .”

And that was the end of that.

The second time I came to was better. It was the following day, and I woke to a hand caressing my face. When I opened my eyes, Sabrina was sitting on the edge of my hospital bed. She had a smile on her face and a look in her eyes as she watched me I’d never seen in my life.

“Hey.”

“I was wondering if we could do that interview now.” She smiled and ran the back of her hand against my cheek.

I nodded. “Sure.”

She wriggled on the bed and took her pad and paper, pretending she was about to take notes. “First question: is your name Cal McDonald?”

“Yes.”

“Second question: are there really monsters?”

“Look at me.”

She pretended to make a checkmark on her pad.

“Okay, and the last question: do you like Sabrina as much as she thinks she might like you?”

“Yes.”

She threw the pad aside and leaned close. “Sam Burnett said you were going to stick around awhile. I think that’s pretty good news.”

“You’re just saying that because I have screws in my head.”

She kissed me. “I think we could make a good team, don’t you?”

“You’ll have to check with Mo’Lock on that one. He can be a tad possessive.”

Sabrina reached into her bag and pulled out the latest issue of Speculator, hot off the press. On the cover was a grainy photo of Mo’Lock and the headline “Confessions of the Undead.”

I laughed so hard it hurt everywhere. Sabrina leaned over and pushed my medicine release button. She was the woman of my dreams.

I looked her in the eyes as the haze began to come over me again. “I believe I can hang with you,” I said.