The Bride Wore Black Leather

can’t hear anything!”
    I looked at her, then at Dennis, who shook his head quickly. “I can see the ghost but not hear it,” said Dennis, sounding more than a little put-out. “A wery fascinating presence, quite unlike anything I’ve ever encountered before. And I’ve been around. In more ways than one. So I am moved to ask, How is it you can hear it, Mr. Taylor, and I can’t?”
    “I told you,” I said. “I trained with old Carnacki. And he knew all sorts of things he never shared with the Institute that took his name.” I looked back at the Julien Advent shade in the doorway. It hurt to look at him, knowing he was as dead as the Bar now. Thanks to me. “Why did the Entities allow the Sun King to return?”
    “Because he’s ready. Programmed and primed, to do what they want. And, because the Droods are gone. The whole family, gone in a moment. Only Eddie remains, the last Drood. Arthur Pendragon and the London Knights are also gone, off fighting the good fight in another dimension. When they try to return, they will find the Entities have closed and sealed the dimensional gates behind them. And the Carnacki Institute . . . is preoccupied with its own problems. There are still certain individuals who might hope to stand against the Entities: the Walking Man, the Regent of Shadows, the Detective Inspectre. But by the time they can come together, it will be too late. The Entities will be in control. That leaves only you, John Taylor.”
    “How do I stop them?” I said urgently. “How do I stop the Sun King?”
    “Show him what the Entities really are,” said the ghost. “Show him what they really mean to do with this world. And what they really think of his precious Dream. He’s still asleep. Wake him up.”
    The sixties Julien Advent turned his back on me and walked into the Bar. The door closed itself. And despite everything I could do to hold on to it, the Hawk’s Wind Bar & Grille slowly and silently vanished, and was gone.
    “You couldn’t have hung on a little longer?” I said angrily. “Not for one more question? Like, Where is the bloody Sun King? Where can I find him?”
    “Boss,” said Cathy. “You’re shouting at empty air. And freaking us all out. I mean, I’m sure it’s all very therapeutic, but . . .”
    “I thought the Entities took the Bar because that was where they intended to break through,” I said. “But I was wrong. I was so sure I’d find the Sun King here, but . . .”
    “What did the Bar tell you?” said Cathy.
    “Not what I needed to know. Think, think . . . Where is the Sun King, right now? Where would he go, to raise the sun and bring down the Nightside?”
    “He needs a weak spot,” said Cathy. “So where’s the oldest place in the Nightside? What’s been here longest, boss?”
    “Of course!” I said. “St. Jude’s! That was here before it was a church, before Christianity even got started!”
    “Then that’s where he’ll be,” said Cathy.
    She was right, of course. The oldest and most powerful spot in the Nightside was also its weakest because it had been around so long. The church is one of the few places on Earth where the physical world can make direct contact with the spiritual world. Could the Sun King use that as a doorway, a way to break in and out? Maybe. Some days, all you can do is wing it.
    I didn’t want to go to St. Jude’s; but I couldn’t tell Cathy why. Because Suzie might still be there. I hadn’t told Cathy about Suzie. How could I? But I had to go there. I had to go to St. Jude’s, right now . . . and all I could do was hope that Suzie was somewhere else, hunting me down.
    My back twinged briefly, where she’d shot me once, long ago.
    I turned abruptly to Dennis. “All right, that’s it. Turned out I didn’t need you after all, Den-Den. Go on back to your club. I think I’ve enjoyed about as much of your company as I can stand.”
    “Lots of people say that,” said Dennis. “Glad to have been of service. Be assured I bear no ill will at being dragged out of my wery own bar, hauled half-way across the Nightside, only to find I’m not needed. Perish the thought! I suppose a lift back’s out of the question?”
    “What do you think?” I said.
    He gave me a look of sleazy dignity. “Your mother knits socks in Hell.”
    And he turned and strode away. That’s Den-Den for you. Always knows exactly how far he can push it.
    “Boss,” said Cathy. “Your eyes are bleeding.”
    I put a hand