Dark Revel

by E. A. Copen

  He was right. There was a reason using the mother to find a missing child was a more reliable method. But the chances of that in this case...

  “Mate, how sure are you that Jessica is your daughter?”

  Nate gritted his teeth and balled his fists. He stomped toward Josiah. “How dare you!”

  I put the map down and walked over to pull them apart. “It’s much more likely that she’s just behind some kind of iron. Occam’s razor, Josiah.”

  Josiah’s answer was a grunt.

  I pulled Nate away. “We’ll find her, man. Don’t lose it now.”

  “How?” He hung his head. “The police said kidnappers usually call with demands. No one’s called. And the magic isn’t working. I don’t know what else we can do.”

  I looked back down at the map with three bloodstains on it. Nate was right. We had no other leads. This spell had to work. If it didn’t, I’d just have to try something else. Something crazy, maybe.

  “If the magic isn’t working...” I stepped away from Nate to retrieve the knife from Josiah. Knife in hand, I used a sleeve to wipe away Nate’s blood and positioned my hand over the map. With a quick slice over my finger, I opened a wound and squeezed a few drops of my own onto the page. “Then we just have to try something else.” I closed my eyes and focused on the map, pushing all my will at it for the spell. Please work.

  The floor creaked as Josiah stepped closer. “I thought you said he’d have Remy behind wards?”

  “Nothing’s certain. Have to try.” After a final push of my will, I opened my eyes and picked up the page, now buzzing with magic. The blood had pooled in two places and was now racing along the street lines, turning onto highways, moving around the city in search of anyone who closely matched my DNA. With my mother behind bars, and all my other relatives dead, the only person the blood would have left to find would be Remy.

  Both searching streams of blood converged on a little street up in Lakeview, racing toward the end of the street. I knew where it was going even before it got there but held my breath until it stopped.

  “Where is that?” Josiah asked, leaning over my shoulder.

  Nate sucked in a breath. “It’s Emma’s house. Laz, why would Remy be there?”

  I crumpled the map and tossed it aside. “I don’t know, but I’m sure as hell about to find out.”

  Chapter Eight

  There were no police cars outside Emma’s house. That was surprising. I expected the precinct to be keeping an eye on her. Maybe they were using unmarked cars, or maybe they figured I wouldn’t be dumb enough to show up there. Either way, I had Nate drive me down the street a few times to scan all the parked cars.

  We’d taken one of Darius’ cars. As payment, I gave him the one Josiah and Khaleda stole to break down. So much for being legit, since he took it without even one complaint or question. I knew Darius wasn’t completely on the straight and narrow.

  Josiah and Khaleda had stayed behind. Apparently, they were worn out from the trip. I didn’t buy Khaleda’s story about being in Bali. It was almost a two-day flight from New Orleans to there if you counted layovers. No way they’d have made it by dawn, not unless they knew about some magical travel system that I didn’t. I supposed that was possible. Anything was possible when a half-angel and a half-demon got together.

  None of the cars parked on the street were occupied. On the off chance that they’d put in cameras, I tossed out a low-level hex spell, just in case, and climbed out with an umbrella. It wasn’t raining, but the umbrella would help hide my face from any cameras I might’ve missed.

  Emma’s Escalade was in the driveway, which meant she hadn’t gone to work that morning. I cringed when I realized I was probably right about the suspension. They’d have laid her off until this was all done with. I just hoped that by clearing my name, I saved her career too, or she’d never forgive me.

  As I walked up the driveway toward the door, I went over the possibilities in my head. If Emma had Remy, she would’ve contacted me. She would’ve found a way. It just didn’t make sense that the spell would lead me here. Unless she didn’t know Remy was there, which also didn’t make sense. Remy was still a baby. She cried and pooped and stunk up the whole place. No way she was in that house and Emma didn’t know about it. Something fishy was going on. Still, I had to follow the thread to its end.

  I pressed the doorbell and waited.

  Nate glanced around. “Everything looks fine.”

  “Stay sharp. Something’s up, and I don’t like it.”

  Nate cleared his throat and looked down at his hands. “Lazarus, it’s been fourteen hours. If someone took them, they might not even be in New Orleans anymore.”

  I’d considered that fact, too. “If they’d been taken out of the city, the spell would’ve led us to an airport, or the bus station, or on a highway headed out of town. Not here.”

  Nate nodded, but didn’t seem reassured. I didn’t blame him. Nothing about this seemed right. And Emma should’ve come to the door already.

  I bent down and searched the ground for the fake rock where she kept the spare key. It was still in there, so no one had found it and broken in. I didn’t know if that was good or bad. Just for the hell of it, I also checked the wards on the front door. They were still there. No one but me should’ve been able to walk through them unless Emma wanted them to. Then again, I’d used the same wards at Nate’s house and someone had walked right in.

  I slid the key into the lock and turned it.

  No one shot at me when I opened the door, so I supposed that was good. At least there wasn’t an intruder with a gun inside.

  The floor creaked under my weight as I stepped inside. “Emma?” Maybe this is a bad idea. I should’ve stayed away. Drake and Codey might be here, just waiting for me to show up so they can arrest me again. If anyone saw me... Dammit, what about the neighbors? They would’ve seen us at the door if they were home.

  But what choice did I have? The map said Remy was here. I couldn’t not come and check.

  The living room was exactly the way Emma kept it. Cute, matched furniture with knitted afghans on the back, pictures of her family in frames on the wall. The light was off, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t home.

  A muffled sound from the kitchen drew my attention. I changed direction from heading for the bedrooms and went toward the kitchen. At the doorway, I stopped, dumbfounded by the scene.

  Emma sat in a chair facing the door, her hands and ankles bound. She had a deep red spot near her eye that was working on becoming a bruise. The only things she had on were a mismatched bra and panty set. Someone had shoved a dish rag in her mouth.

  “Holy shit.” I rushed to her side. “Emma, who did this to you?”

  She was trying to say something, but I couldn’t tell what with the gag in her mouth. I pulled it out while Nate went around behind her to grab a kitchen knife and cut apart the plastic zip ties.

  Emma jerked away as soon as I had the rag out, eyes wide. “You did.”

  “Or more specifically,” said a familiar voice from the kitchen doorway, “I did.”

  I whipped around, placing myself between Emma and whoever else was in the house only to freeze halfway through the motion.

  He was five feet, ten inches of ruggedly handsome with dark eyes and short, brown hair. A shave would’ve done him good, and maybe a little sleep. He wore a black leather jacket, black gloves, nice blue jeans, black boots and a plain white t-shirt.

  He also looked exactly like me. Not a likeness or a similarity, but down to the tiny scar above my right eye. It was like looking into a mirror except seeing a better dressed, more pissed-off version of myself staring back.

  “Nice,” I said, inching to the left to make sure he couldn’t get to Emma. He had a knife in his belt, but I was more worried about the gun in his hand. “So, what are you? Shapeshifter? Wizard with a really good arsenal of lookalike spells?”

  “I’m you.” He stepped toward me, smirking. “Well, a better version of y
ou. The you that you wish you could be.”

  I shook my head. “Pal, I think you’re confused. There’s only one of me and no sane person would want to be me. My life sucks.”

  “Only because you’re too much of a pussy to make living it worthwhile.” He shrugged and gestured past me to Emma. “Take her for example. Miss Emma Knight. The quintessential good cop. How much time have you spent, how much effort, trying to convince her you’re a good person? If she wanted a good man, Laz, she had her pick. You really think she’s with you because you’re a good person?”

  “I think you’re about to get schooled on how much of an asshole I can be.” I balled my fists. “Where’s my daughter?”

  “Your daughter? Oh! You mean my daughter. You see, I didn’t really approve of the way you were bringing her up. Always leaving her with strangers to run off and fight monsters.” He paced back and forth in front of the doorway.

  Watching him move was surreal. Did I really walk like that? No way. This guy had to be a bad imitation. He was using magic to look like me, but he wasn’t me. Maybe he was close enough to convince the finding spell though. Impossible. That spell was clued into my DNA. Unless he’d replicated that... But then, he wouldn’t just be imitating me, would he? He really would be me, or at least some Bizarro version of me. I knew I’d never hurt Leah or Emma, and I sure as hell wouldn’t kidnap my best friend’s kid.

  “In fact,” Bizarro Me continued, “you do a lot I don’t agree with, like hanging out with that loser behind you.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Nate who’d turned white. “Leave him out of this.”

  Bizarro Laz stopped pacing and lifted the gun. “Why? He’s as much a part of this now as you are. The only people who even know I’m not already you are right here in this room. I could kill all of you and just walk away.”

  I raised my hands in surrender. “You think you can kill a cop and a medical examiner and ride off into the sunset, you’re out of your mind, man. All I did was punch one and it screwed up my life for years. You hurt them, there’ll be a nationwide manhunt. You’ll never get away.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe, but then I don’t have to hide here, do I? Unlike you, I’ve got a standing invitation to the Summer Court. I am the father of the Summer Princess, after all.”

  “Bullshit,” I ground out. “Remy is mine.”

  He offered a dark grin. “How sure are you?”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Emma shouted.

  “Maybe you’re right.” Bizarro Laz lowered the gun. “I don’t want to shoot her. You know, I was this close to getting in her pants before she figured me out. Too bad you’re such a shabby dresser or I’d have gotten away with it too.”

  That was it. I couldn’t stand there and listen to him anymore, and waiting for an opening was a waste of time. He thought he had all the power since he had the gun. Well, he could wear my face, and he might act like me, but he couldn’t sling spells like me. I was a one of a kind.

  I flung a cutting blast of air at him with a growl, just raw magic power. I’d seen the same spell leave a hole in the wall two inches wide, more than enough to do some serious damage to a body.

  Bizarro Laz swept a hand through the air and batted the spell back at me.

  Shit, maybe he could.

  I didn’t have time to get up anything defensive. The best I could do was make sure the spell hit me and not the two innocent Normals behind me. Magic tore into me, ripping my chest to shreds and digging deep. I doubled over holding my stomach. Blood oozed between my fingers, hot and dark.

  A chair flew over my head. It slammed into Bizarro Me and splintered into a dozen pieces. The gun fell from his hands and hit the floor, discharging in a flash toward the ceiling. The bullet hit the chain holding the lamp up and it fell, slamming into my head. I must’ve been out for a second, because the next thing I knew, I was lying on my back, blinking away a fuzzy feeling in my head while Emma tried to pull up my shirt. For a minute, I was confused until I remembered the Bizarro version of me had ripped open my gut with a spell.

  I turned my head toward the kitchen doorway only to find him gone. He must’ve fled when he dropped the gun.

  Nate lowered into my vision. “How bad is it? Wow, okay. This is more than I can handle. He needs a hospital.”

  Emma shook her head. “They’ll arrest him again.”

  “He might die without one. There’s no telling what kind of damage there is on the inside, and I don’t have the equipment to assess him. Better an arrested Lazarus than a dead one.”

  No. No hospital. I tried to voice my objection, but my body wasn’t responding right. Something was wrong with my head. It was like there was a loose wire between my brain and body. I felt drunk, except without all the fun inhibitions. Just the lack of coordination and slushy thoughts.

  “What about the morgue?” Emma said.

  Nate paused and nodded. “Could work, but D.J. is there. He might call Drake and Codey.”

  “I’ll take care of D.J. You worry about fixing him.”

  There’s something more important than what I want. I have to tell Nate where the kids are. That way, if something happens to me, he can still get to them. I focused hard and managed to reach out and grab his arm, though my hand slid down to his wrist. It left a big rust-colored smear behind that I couldn’t stop staring at. What was that? Never mind. Have to tell him. “Faerie,” I managed. “Summer. Titania.”

  He was ripping up some duct tape. Why was he doing that? “Don’t talk, Laz. We’re going to get you fixed up. Don’t worry, okay?” His face said otherwise. Just what was he so worried about? He should’ve been happy. We finally had a lead.

  “I’ll get the Escalade unlocked.” Emma stood.

  Nate pulled her back down. “Stay with him.” There was something about his voice, something anxious and sad.

  Emma swallowed, nodded and sank to her knees. Burning hot fingers wrapped around mine and fiery lips pressed to my knuckle. She was crying. I tried to wipe away the tears with my other hand but couldn’t lift it. “I’m sorry,” she was saying. “I’m so sorry.”

  I wanted to tell her not to apologize. Whatever she was upset over, it was my fault and I’d fix it. Just as soon as I finished my nap. I was suddenly unbearably tired. Something in the back of my head screamed that I needed to stay awake, but I couldn’t remember why. My eyes closed on their own and I fell into the deepest, darkest sleep of my life.

  Chapter Nine

  I had died more times than I could count. If I’d been a cat, I’d have used up my nine lives and then some. It kind of came with the territory of being the Pale Horseman who knew how to manipulate his reapers into helping him out. Once, I’d even killed my reaper to keep myself alive. But all good things must come to an end, my life apparently among them.

  I don’t know how I knew I was dying. No reaper came to greet me, and I wasn’t conscious or aware of anything but a stuttering sort of pounding in my chest that I realized too late was an irregular heartbeat. I’d lost too much blood. That Bizarro version of me, he’d gotten me good.

  My consciousness floated in a black nothingness with no end, aware of the sounds and sensations going on around me. Somewhere in the distance, a pinprick of a bright white light waited. It was like floating on Lake Pontchartrain at night and seeing a lighthouse from far off. Instinct told me to go to it, but fear held me back.

  I wasn’t ready to go. There was still so much unfinished business, things I had to take care of. Loki was still out there, prepping for his apocalypse. I’d only just discovered angels and demons were a thing, and there were Titans to put away too. I had to find Remy, apologize to Emma, make sure Leah was okay. No, I couldn’t go yet.

  I also didn’t have a choice. The more I fought the urge to move toward the light, the harder some unseen force pushed me toward it.

  Funny thing about death; not even the Pale Horseman gets to choose his time.

  “Please,” I said to the endless expanse of nothing, “I don’t wa
nt to die.”

  Of course, there was no answer. In the end, death is lonely business.

  So, I called to the void with all my reasons for staying. I argued with my echo and raged against the silence when the echo died, all the while floating closer to my own demise.

  No, not my demise. I wasn’t dead yet or I’d be in the After already. The After was where all souls went. I’d been there enough times to know exactly how that worked. I’d have to stand in that awful line to be judged by Osiris before I was sent to the appropriate place, up or down. I didn’t think I’d be headed to Heaven, so chances were good I’d be looking at a rather warm eternity.

  Since I wasn’t in line yet, that meant I was still transitioning from life to death, and that meant I could turn that trip around. Maybe. I just had to figure out how. There was no one to bargain with, no one to con or trick, no spell I could use to change direction. But there had to be something. I couldn’t just give up, not with people counting on me.

  “Now, isn’t this amusing.” Loki. Why was it that bastard had to be part of everything, even my death? His disembodied voice floated around me, slithering like a living thing.

  “Why are you here?” I tried to sound angry, or at least irritated, but my voice was so small. The darkness seemed to eat it.

  “Your prayer,” Loki’s voice mused. “The sad thing is, there must’ve been half a dozen gods who heard your plea for help, yet none answer you. Why is that?”

  I focused on the bright light. It still seemed to be miles away, a tiny speck against an endless sky of black. The prayer I’d uttered hadn’t been directed at anyone. I hadn’t realized that meant it was up for grabs. “Probably because most gods hate me. The rest of them wouldn’t lift a finger to help me. The few that actually like me are probably busy dealing with whatever mess you’ve made.”

  “True, Horseman. I wish I could say I had foreseen this moment, but you’ve caught me by surprise. It’s a little upsetting how easy this is going to be. Here I’d imagined launching some grand campaign of trickery and mischief to get you on my side.” He chuckled. “I’m disappointed.”