Rescue From Planet Pleasure by Mario Acevedo

“There is much that she knows, and much that she doesn’t.” Spikes of anxiety pistoned in and out from his aura’s penumbra.
    “What’s that mean?” I asked.
    Coyote’s aura formed a doughnut-shaped halo around his head. Two red beams shot from his eyes through the hole. “Phaedra is using the psychic plane to spy on us. She knows we’re going to use the Sun Dagger against her, but she doesn’t know how.”
    “Neither do we.” I pointed at Jolie.
    “In time, vatos. ” Coyote’s eye beams disappeared and the halo melted into his aura.
    “And just as worrisome,” Jolie offered, “what about your mom and Rainelle?”
    His aura started pistoning the spikes again. Jolie and I swiveled our heads as we swept our sixth sense like radar beams across the landscape. Nothing suspicious pinged back.
    Coyote slammed the trunk closed and flung handfuls of dirt over the car in a half-hearted attempt to make it look as if we hadn’t disturbed the location.
    We started up the draw and paused where the vampire heads had been. Nothing much remained, just ash piled around the bases of the stakes.
    “Did you know them?” she asked Coyote.
    “Only Natacha,” he answered. “We weren’t friends.”
    That was no surprise. She was a real ball buster from the Araneum, an icy blonde so cold she could probably chill beer in her cooter, and I couldn’t see her chumming up with Coyote.
    “She’s the one who ran me out of the Araneum.” He kicked her ashes into the surrounding dirt and continued up the draw.
    Jolie yanked the stakes from the ground and threw them into the desert, where they clattered on rocks and bounced out of sight.
    “Why the mind fuck?” she asked. “Why stake Phyllis and Natacha and show her cards? If Phaedra intends to knock us off, why not wait and catch us by surprise?”
    “She’s toying with us,” I answered. “And as far as mind fucks go, I give this one an A plus.”
    “Or maybe Phaedra is waiting,” Coyote said. “Maybe she knows about Carmen. Maybe Phaedra needs to make sure she can kill us all at one time.”
    “That’s reassuring,” Jolie replied.
    “Phaedra has weaknesses.” Coyote started walking up the draw.
    Jolie and I fell in behind him. “Like what?” I asked.
    “Like her fear of you. And Carmen. That fear will make Phaedra overplay her hand.”
    “How do you know that?”
    Coyote stopped and turned to face me, his wrinkled eyes smoldering with feral determination. “ Vato , have faith. Otherwise lie in the dirt like a turd and wait to be stepped on. Jolie and I will continue. Right, chica ?”
    She nodded.
    “ Entonces, sigueme. ” He resumed climbing up the draw.
    I felt like Coyote had placed a dunce cap on my head. Jolie and I trailed after him, the three of us hopping from rock to rock until we reached the rim of the mesa. Wisps of smoke twisted from Coyote’s home and the neighboring buildings a quarter mile away. Everything peaceful. Everything quiet. Tranquil. A jarring juxtaposition in the wake of our recent brush with the discovery of Phaedra’s gruesome souvenirs and our near escape from the murderous dawn.
    We trotted across the mesa—Jolie and I panning the seemingly infinite vista—anxious, concerned that a trap or bad news waited. Maybe Phaedra had also attacked Coyote’s mom and Rainelle.
    As we got closer to the houses, the dog began to bark. A metal rake skritched the ground. Rainelle’s Ford pickup came into view where it was parked on the north side of the doublewide.
    Jolie slowed and dropped behind to provide cover—just in case.
    Goats bleated. Chickens clucked. The dog barked. A cat meowed from behind the fence. The scene was so homey we should’ve burst out singing “Old McDonald Had a Farm.”
    Coyote’s posture wilted as if the night’s misadventures had at last caught up with him. Lines of fatigue strained Jolie’s face, and I was sure I looked just as worn out.
    The skritching stopped and Rainelle appeared from behind her