The Judah Black Novels: Boxed Set of books 1-3

by E. A. Copen

  Sal grabbed his leather jacket from the back of a chair and pulled it on. “There are still a few ingredients I need. Marcus is supposed to meet us, too. He and Doctor Han are prepping a room at the hospital. I called to check while you were fixing your hair.”

  “For the record, I’m still against doing this at the hospital.” I leaned against the counter, sipping at my second cup of coffee for the morning. “There are too many people there. You’re going to have trouble pulling in enough of the right energy in an environment like that. And those are Emiko’s haunting grounds right now.”

  “I thought you said you were on a time limit.” He adjusted the cuffs of the jacket and slipped an elastic band around his hair, braiding it quickly. It was messy and uneven so I stood to help him.

  “I am. The longer I spend out of my body, the more likely something is to go wrong.”

  “Then an assault on her home base is going to draw her out, make it faster.” I finished braiding his hair and tucked it under the collar of his jacket. He turned and put his hands on my upper arms. “Trust me, it’s better than doing it at Marcus’ place. At least at the hospital, you’ll have all the equipment right there. State of the art monitors and a trauma team standing by. Besides, even bringing you back is going to be dangerous. I can’t do it without medical backup. Warm you up too fast and you’ll crash all over again.”

  The ice bath hadn’t been Sal’s idea but Han’s. Lowering my core body temperature below ninety-five degrees Fahrenheit would induce hypothermia, buying my brain more time to keep on going without me. That was, of course, provided they could keep my heart pumping. According to what Sal had worked out with Han over the phone, I’d have four minutes. After four minutes, they’d have to get my blood pumping again or else I’d start to lose brain function. The minute they restarted my heart, I’d be jerked back into my body and unable to interact with Emiko. Four minutes. That’s all the time I had to find her ghost and kill it.

  “You sure you’ll be okay alone?” Sal asked after kissing me one more time. “I can send someone else to run the errands and stay with you.”

  I shook my head. What I had to do would be easier if I didn’t have someone looking over my shoulder all day. A few hours of solitude were exactly what I needed before I died. “You go and do what you need to do. I’ll use the time to get everything in order.”

  “You call me if you need anything, even just to talk. I’ll check in around noon.” He hugged me tight and then went out the door.

  It was harder than it should have been, watching him drive away in Chanter’s truck. I’d asked to be left alone, but now that I was, the situation felt surreal. My entire adult life, I’d feared nothing more than death coming at some unexpected moment to steal me away. I’d been shot, stabbed, thrown down into a pit, nearly beaten to death by an ice giant, and hit with more spells than I’d ever remember. Every time, I picked myself back up to continue fighting. I had things to live for.

  Now I was willingly laying down my life for a child I barely knew. The only way I was coming back from it was if everything went perfect, a rarity even on the best of days. I had to rely on Sal, Han, and Marcus to work together flawlessly to save me. Just days ago, I had been sure Marcus would have let me die. Now, he owed me his life. Neither of us had spoken about the debt he owed me, but it was implicit. If I hadn’t told Reed to go and check on him, he might have died in his office. That bringing me back would also confirm his beloved wife’s ghost was gone was just icing on the cake for him. Marcus owed me a blood debt, and he’d pay it sooner rather than later.

  I sat down at the kitchen table with a notebook and pen. The morning ticked away as I wrote page after page, stuffing them into envelopes and sealing them. The letter that I wrote for Hunter was the hardest. Everyone else would understand. Hunter would be angry. I couldn’t let him blame himself. I couldn’t let him think I had abandoned him because I didn’t love him. That couldn’t be further from the truth. The kid frustrated the hell out of me, but Hunter was my heart. Every moment I wasn’t with him while he’d been in the hospital was hell. Work kept me away. If I did find a way to come back, I wouldn’t let that happen, not anymore. He and I, we’d take a vacation. Hell, maybe I’d just quit working for BSI to spend more time with him. Wouldn’t that make everything easier?

  I couldn’t write those promises to my son. Those were the promises I made to myself, fuel to feed the fire of desire to return to my body. I’d need that so I held onto it. Instead, I wrote to Hunter about his father, telling him everything I thought he’d want to know. His entire life, he’d asked me to talk about Alex and I couldn’t. No matter how much time passed, the wound was always too fresh. Even thinking Alex’s name hurt. I couldn’t forgive myself for being too weak to save him, even though there was nothing I could have done.

  Before noon, I finished letters to Hunter, Tindall, Sal, and Mara, should she ever resurface. I placed them in white envelopes and sealed them with tape, writing their names neatly on the outside. Then, I stacked the letters on the table for Sal to find and deliver and decided to go for a drive.

  The Paint Rock Reservation was not so different from its Native American counterparts. To the government, it was holding and storage for a population that was Other, somewhere they could be that wasn’t in the cities. There were too many vampires, werewolves, and fae to cram them all into reservations and, so far, Paint Rock was the only one of its kind. Congress wanted to open more reservations in Alaska, Nebraska, and Wyoming, and wasn’t facing much opposition. If the country had its way, every werewolf, vampire, and fae in the United States would be neatly boxed into an internment camp disguised as sovereign land.

  That was a far away future, a problem that seemed too big for me to deal with. I couldn’t stop congress. I couldn’t stop groups like the Vanguards of Humanity from preaching their doctrine of hate. Hate is a hydra. Cut off one head and three more spring out. Driving through the empty streets of the reservation, looking at the run-down houses standing next to a few that could have been middle-class anywhere else, I wondered what kind of replacement BSI would send to take my place. Would the Vanguard have a hand in that, too? Would Paint Rock be home or just another job? What was it to me?

  The more involved I got with Sal, the pack, and the other residents, the harder it became for me to turn a blind eye to all the wrong BSI had done. I thought about driving back to Sal’s and drafting one more letter to send to my regional boss but decided against it. What good would it do to resign if I was dead?

  Sal called just after I parked in the church parking lot. I don’t know what drew me to the place. Maybe it was just a good place to park, or maybe it was comforting because it was familiar. Or maybe I’d just been wondering if Reed was there and, when I saw his car still parked in the lot, I thought I’d rather not make the drive to Eden alone.

  I picked up the phone. “Hey, Sal. How’s everything on your end?”

  “There’s a small problem. It shouldn’t affect what you’re doing, but I thought you should know.”

  I leaned forward, suddenly on alert. “What is it? Is Mia okay?”

  “Mia’s fine. It’s Zoe. She’s been erratic all day. Seems she’s crashing much faster than Mia.”

  Dammit. I should have known. “It’s because I damaged Emiko. Just like a vampire, she’d need to feed to recover.”

  “Meanwhile, she’s...” The phone creaked as he turned his head aside to address someone else in the room. “What was the word you used?”

  “Torporic,” rang Han’s voice, muffled by distance.

  “Torporic,” Sal repeated. “Doctor Han says her kidneys are already failing.”

  “Emiko is draining her fast. She might know what we’re planning.”

  Sal agreed with a grunt.

  “Everyone who isn’t related to Mia is safe, Sal. Make sure everyone knows that. But I’m worried about you. At the rate she’s feeding on Zoe, if she goes...”

  “Don’t you worry about me,” Sal said, so
unding confident. “I can take care of myself. I just thought you should hear all of that from me before you got here. Best to be prepared.”

  “Take care of yourself, Sal. No unnecessary risks.”

  “We’re almost done here,” Sal continued. “There’s a whole wing on the bottom floor that’s under construction. We’re set up in an old O.R. There’s enough salt on the floor to kill every snail in the country and the temporary wards are up. I spoke with Reed about an hour ago. Told him you’d collect him and the last of what we’d need.”

  I looked up at the big white wall in front of me. “I’m at the church now. Give me a half hour and I’ll be right there.”

  “You take whatever time you need.” His voice was gentle but I could hear the urgency behind it. We both knew Mia’s situation was delicate.

  “See you soon.”

  I hung up before he could tell me he loved me again. That’s what he wanted to say and I could hear it in his voice, but I didn’t want to hear it. Hearing it might make me second-guess everything. I’d spent all morning putting myself in the required state of mind and wasn’t going to let three little words destroy it.

  The subtle power of holy ground buzzed beneath my feet when I got out of my car and as I walked up to the entrance. The church doors were open so I went inside. The sanctuary was small. Pew upon wooden pew lined either side of a worn, red carpet that marked the narrow walkway. It was early afternoon on a Sunday so I expected to find more people mulling around, given that I knew he conducted services at eleven. Instead, I found the church utterly empty of worshippers aside from Reed himself. He knelt at the altar in the front of the sanctuary in his black cassock, forearms resting on the railing. His face wasn’t cast downward but up at the simple wooden cross hanging behind the pulpit.

  I walked down the aisle as quietly as I could, pausing halfway when I saw the sword sitting on the floor next to him.

  He shifted the rosary beads between his fingers. “The life of mortals is like grass.” He turned his head to regard me. “They flourish like a flower in the field; the wind blows over and it is gone, its place remembered no more.”

  “Psalms,” I said, and sat down in the front row. “I can’t say I remember where. But I remember that much.” I glanced around. “Been a while since I’ve sat in a church pew.”

  He gripped the sword and rose, turning to face me. “Prayer and praise don’t make you a good person any more than a badge and a gun does,” he said. “Did you know that, not long after you came here, Chanter Silvermoon came here to see me. He sat right there.” He pointed next to me. “I think that was the first and only time the man ever stepped foot in the church. Do you know what he said to me?”

  I said I didn’t and Reed sat down on the pew next to me, leaning forward on the sword. “He came to tell me that he was dying and to make a few things known before that happened.” Reed smiled to himself. “The old man was too stubborn to apologize for all the bickering between us, of course, and so the conversation didn’t take that turn. Instead, we spoke of a young woman.”

  “Me?” I tilted my head looking at the priest.

  “He said he’d convened with his spirits and learned a certain name, the name of a young woman with no father of record, and a mother whose habits were deeply religious. Fearfully so. In fact, the spirits apparently told him that this young woman—whoever she was—would bring change. He was quite worried because the spirits didn’t tell him what kind of change to expect, only to expect it. He’d begrudgingly come to me seeking counsel as to what, if anything, I thought about it.”

  I smiled to myself. “That sounds like Chanter. And what did you think about it?”

  Reed laughed. “Oh, I told the old man it was about time something around here changed. There were too many of us set in our ways. I just never expected...” He trailed off, looking down at the rosary now wrapped around the hilt of his sword. “You have never asked about me. What I am. Where I came from.”

  “That’s mostly because we were avoiding each other.”

  The statement was a half-truth. Reed and I had seen each other several times in passing and while working. I could have pressed the issue if I wanted. He knew I had searched for records of him and found he wasn’t registered with BSI, but the clergy were kind of a gray area when it came to registration. The church had very good lawyers. I knew he was a pyromancer, gifted with the ability to summon and control fire. I knew he was deeply religious, even if he was a little unconventional in his dedication to his faith. I also had a nagging suspicion that he was more than human.

  “If you asked me today, I would answer you,” Reed offered. “I’m sure you already have your suspicions.”

  I sat in thought for a long moment. It was true I wanted to know what Reed was, but I wasn’t sure I wanted that knowledge weighing on my mind as I faced down my own death.

  “None of that will matter if I stay dead today,” I said, standing. “Tell you what. Why don’t we revisit it after all of this is done? I didn’t come out here to chat. They’re ready for us at the hospital. Did you get everything on your list?”

  Reed reached beneath the pew and pulled out a large, black duffel bag, unzipping it to show me several grocery bags full of supplies. He handed one full of white candles to me and then removed a brass censer and a small plastic bag full of incense cones. “He didn’t say what kind of incense so I raided the church supply and found rose and frankincense. As for candles, I assumed the votives would be too small and got the pillars.”

  “I’m sure whatever you got will be fine.”

  Reed stood, a Walmart bag in one hand and sword in the other. “So, your car or mine?”

  “If I’m going to die today,” I said, gesturing toward the door, “I’m driving myself there.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The section of the hospital under construction wasn’t difficult to find. All I had to do was follow the dust. An iron plaque outside the temporary drywall blocking off the area announced that the old Eden Memorial Hospital Outpatient Surgery Center would be rechristened as The Kelley Outpatient Surgery Center due to a large donation from Marcus. I stopped and huffed at the sign and then pushed open the door.

  Construction looked like it was nearly finished. Checkered green and white linoleum tile covered the floor and long, fluorescent lights hummed in the ceiling. To the left and right, plastic sheets hung from the ceiling at irregular intervals. Behind them stood glass walls, some with gold lettering. There wasn’t any furniture, but there were a few fixtures already attached to the walls. Fire extinguishers, emergency sprinkler systems, a few monitors, and drop down lights, the kind doctors pull down to examine patients more closely.

  An air vent kicked on. Reed’s footsteps echoed next to mine. At the end of the hall, there was one room that was finished save for a door. A double layer of plastic covered the entrance. The plastic crinkled as Hunter pushed it aside and walked out into the hall. I paused when I saw him and my confidence wavered.

  My son had grown taller and looked more filled out than when I’d seen him yesterday, but maybe that was just because he was wearing a tight t-shirt and jeans and not a hospital gown. He stood with his fingers tucked in his back pockets, those long black-dyed bangs of his swept to one side. And dear God, was that an earring? When did he get that?

  “Hey, mom,” he said.

  “Hunter, what the hell are you doing here?”

  He rolled his eyes in true teenager fashion. “Come on, mom. Did you think I was going to let you sneak off and kill yourself without talking to me about it first?”

  I smiled weakly and went to put my arm around Hunter, pulling him into a hug. The plastic moved aside and Sal poked his head out. “What’s he doing here?” I mouthed.

  “He’s here to help.” Before I could voice my objections, of which there were many, Sal held up a hand and added, “As back up. I told you I didn’t think I could pull it off on my own. You need something to tether you here, something stronger than anythin
g I can do. You and Hunter share a bond that supersedes all others.”

  Hunter shrugged away from me. “Chillax, mom. I survived two wendigos and the ghost isn’t aimed at me. Besides, who else is going to watch your back with a vampire in the room?”

  “That’s why I brought Reed.” I placed a hand on Reed’s shoulder. For as little as I knew about Reed, one thing I did know was that he hated being touched. I could feel him wincing without even looking.

  “I dunno. Priest looks kinda shady. I mean, don’t look now, but I think he’s armed.”

  Reed rolled his shoulder to get my hand off. “Look who’s talking. I’m not the one with teeth and claws. I need something to make the rest of you heathens think twice about turning on me.”

  The playful banter was nice for a change. It eased the tension in the air and told me that Hunter was feeling better. I gave Sal a wary look. “Tell me you didn’t know about the earring?”

  “Temporary fix,” Sal answered with a shrug. “Today’s the full moon, remember?”

  Crap. I’d almost forgotten. Werewolves didn’t have to shift under the full moon, but they did so anyway. Not shifting left them with all kinds of physical symptoms ranging from migraines to intense muscle spasms. If I made it through this, it would be Sal’s job to conduct a fitting funeral for Chanter, induct Hunter into the pack formally, and then lead a hunt in Chanter’s memory. He had to do all of that plus kill me and make sure I didn’t stay dead.

  And I thought I was going to have a busy day.

  On closer inspection, the tiny stud in Hunter’s ear was silver. It would make shifting more difficult for him, probably impossible to do involuntarily, which must have been Sal’s aim. Tempers could flare if this didn’t go as planned and no one wanted a teenage werewolf to lose his cool under the full moon. That would leave bodies behind.

  Sal lifted the plastic aside for me and gestured with his head. “Come on, babe. Time is getting away from us.”