Anita, after having met a man who is able to ignore how awful she can be, arrives home and contemplates her plethora of injuries. I like the word plethora. It sounds like a strange Eastern European soft drink.
Edward the vampire hunter is sat outside. I guess someone’s never heard of calling ahead. Or that people called ‘Edward’ have to be careful to avoid any implications of stalking. No, she changed the lock from the last time he broke in, otherwise he’d have let himself in. He needs information, you see, and Anita seems to forget he wanted to kill her not two books ago, letting him come on up to her flat.
She’s also comfortable walking around in her bra in front of him. She talks about how there’s no sexual tension between them, but I’m more concerned about the fact that he did want to kill you. He threatened to kill you. So, uh, what hell.
They have coffee and talk about Yasmeanie and Marguerite. Maybe JC will come round and they can all do their hair or something and ignore the feeble cry of the plot as it slowly dies.
Edward already knows everything because he was following her!
So much hilarious in hindsight.
Edward’s been hired to kill the Master of the City. As Cecilia pointed out, JC isn’t the Master of the City, Mister Puddykins is, and Mister Puddykins don’t go out without a fight. Yo. Also it’s another person who watched the giant snake and thought ‘Fuck it, I’m not going to help save lives, I’mma go get a frozen yoghurt’. Anita carefully steers him away from thinking that JC is the Master, although we all know he really isn’t anyway.
“The Master let his people risk their lives and didn’t help?”
Yes Edward. Because he’s kind of a dick like that. Eddie tries getting the name out of Anita but she refuses. He resorts to trying to threaten her instead. What a guy! Anita says that she’ll kill him first. So no more coffee meet ups then?
I tried picturing Jean-Claude’s perfect body riddled with bullets, covered in blood. His face blown away by a shot-gun. I shook my head. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t know why exactly, but I couldn’t hand Jean-Claude over to Edward.
Because who would feed Puddkykins?