“Destiny? Watching you is like the worst game show in the history of worst game shows,” said Leviathan. He smiled. Qaphsiel thought he saw something crawling between his teeth. “Love your Windbreaker. Very dignified for an angel. Well, have fun being a loser. If you change your mind just give us a call.” Leviathan took a business card from his pocket and held it out for him. Something with too many legs to be of this world crawled across its face.

Qaphsiel stepped back. “No, thank you.”

The fallen angel shrugged and put back the card. “Maybe not today. But Heaven won’t wait forever. Tick tock. Tick tock. Your time is running out.”

“Soon, you might not have anywhere else to go but with us,” said Beelzebub.

“I’m leaving now,” said Qaphsiel.

“Wait,” said Leviathan, his voice softening. “It really is our first time in L.A. and we really do want to see the tar pits. Is there a bus?”

Qaphsiel pointed to the Bonaventure. “You can catch a cab at the hotel.”

Beelzebub laughed. “A cab? On our budget? Never mind. We’ll just steal a bus. I’m sure someone on board will know the way. Well, see you in another five hundred years.”

Qaphsiel held up his thumb and forefinger a half inch apart. “I’m this close. You’ll see.”

Leviathan pinched his cheek. “You’re adorable. We’ll tell Lucifer you said hello.”

“You’ll see. All of you.” But Leviathan and Beelzebub were just an old man and woman walking in the sun again.

Do they really talk about me in Heaven? Do they even still remember me? I hope nobody’s touched my stuff.

Qaphsiel took out the map again. It was nothing but snowy static. He put it away. I saw his face. He’s in Hollywood. I’m so close.

He turned from where the box had been and began the long walk across town. There was a bang behind him as the repair truck’s engine fell onto the street.

TWENTY-THREE

BAYLISS, NELSON, AND SALZMAN LEFT THE OFFICE, leaving Coop and Giselle alone. It was the first time Coop had been alone with her in over two years. In fact, it was already the longest time he’d spent alone with any woman since his arrest. Giselle sat on a table near the door where she’d come in. Coop stayed put in his chair. There was a good twenty feet between them. He would have preferred twenty miles, but this would have to do.

“How are you doing, Coop?” said Giselle.

“I’m being blackmailed by the government. How are you?”

“Don’t be so melodramatic.”

“Trust me. I’m not being melodramatic enough.” He looked at Giselle intently.

“What?”

“It’s funny, just the other day I was telling Morty about how someone stole my Contego stone. Where is it?”