by E. A. Copen
He collapsed as the last sudden bit of it came free and sent him falling backward.
I rushed past to kneel at Emma’s side. “Emma? Emma!”
Finn stood up and dusted himself off. “She’ll come around. Might be a bit, but she will. You’re welcome, by the way.”
I glared at him. “I know better than to thank a fae.”
“Lazarus?” Emma blinked and tried to sit up.
I put a hand gently on her chest. “Don’t try to sit up. Take it easy.”
She drew her eyebrows together to give me a questioning look, then her eyes went to the other faces around the room. “What the hell is going on here?”
“What’s the last thing you remember?” I asked.
Emma put her hand against her forehead. “It was Mardi Gras. You’d just told me about Hades. I was going home to think.” Her eyes widened and she pulled her hand away from me. “You killed him.”
“Hades is alive,” Persephone said. “In a manner of speaking.”
Emma frowned at me.
I looked to Finn.
“Don’t look at me. I told you hardly any side effects. I didn’t say no side effects,” he said with a shrug. “All things considered, three months of memories is a small price to pay, especially considering everything that’s happened over the last three months.”
“Three months?” Emma surged up to sit.
I took Emma’s hand in mine and squeezed. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
DETECTIVE MOSES MOSES was buried with full honors. There was a big procession that shut down the streets and everything. He didn’t have a widow or any next of kin to contact, so they presented Emma with the casket flag. Her face was stern, solid and her dress spotless. Not a tear fell during the entire service, but if anyone would’ve gotten a look at her under that hat, they would’ve seen her eyes were red and puffy from crying all night.
There were gun salutes, speeches, and Bible verses read. Everyone remembered him as who he was: a good man, gone too soon.
Emma didn’t know who he really was, an angel sent to watch and report. She’d forgotten that along with everything else. It was best to let her forget some things.
On the same day, in a smaller cemetery with no fanfare and under the watchful eye of a crowd of seven, they buried Pony Durrant. No priest read from the Bible telling us Pony’s death was all part of a bigger plan. Nobody stood at the podium and recalled acts of bravery and service. Instead, his friends told stories about how he’d cheat at poker and do card tricks to make a buck.
When it came time for me to speak, I couldn’t keep the solemn face Emma had somehow managed at her partner’s funeral, but I pulled myself together enough not to sniffle in front of everyone. I don’t even remember what I said, whether I read from the index cards I held in my shaky hands or made something up. The whole thing was a blur of emotion.
I do remember standing over the open grave as they lowered the coffin into the artificial mound of dirt and thinking about Beth. She was right. One day, it would be my body going into the dirt, and I didn’t want to leave behind a world that forgot who I was. Everything I’d done so far, all the people I’d saved, the apocalypse I’d averted, none of it would matter once the next one rolled around. There would always be another monster to kill, another god hell-bent on ending life as we knew it. That wasn’t a fight I could win. At least, not on my own.
The future I imagined didn’t need four Horsemen to keep gods from squabbling and carrying out centuries-old revenge plots. It didn’t include breaking up potential wars in Faerie every other week, or killing Titans.
The world I wanted to leave behind me when I went into my grave needed new ways of solving disputes and problems. Peace and balance were impossible goals, but understanding and open communication between gods wasn’t, and that was the legacy I was going to work to leave behind me from that day forward.
“Something tells me he wouldn’t be happy to see you hanging around here long after everyone else has left.” Rocks crunched as Emma came up the sidewalk, her raincoat folded over her arms.
I shrugged. “Probably not. I can almost hear him asking me if I don’t have something better to do than stand around watching dead men sleep.”
Emma linked her arm in mine. “Well? Don’t you?”
Her eyes sparkled with the promise of a smile, despite the pair of funerals she’d been to that day. She wasn’t quite back to normal yet; losing three months of your life takes a little getting used to. But she’d gotten her job back as a detective, though they’d punished her with desk duty in the cold case division for a while, and we were still talking. I guess that meant we would be okay, even if things were rough for a little while. We would make it through, just like we always did.
I smiled and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “You want to get out of here? Maybe go for a walk?”
“A walk?” She shifted her raincoat. “I heard we were supposed to get rain.”
I held my hand out and looked up at the sky. “On the contrary. I think things are just beginning to clear up.”
~*~*~*Thanks for reading Dark Horse. Click here to leave a review!*~*~*~
A Word from E.A. Copen
Hey there!
Thanks for reading Dark Horse and coming along on Lazarus’s journey with me through 9 books so far. There are more books to come and I can’t wait to write them! It’s thanks to readers like you that I can do this full time, which is a dream come true.
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Books by E.A. Copen
The Judah Black Novels
Fortunate Son
Guilty by Association
Perfect Storm
Blood Debt
Chasing Ghosts
Playing with Fire
Other stories in the Judah Black Universe:
Kiss of Vengeance
Cold Spell
Broken Empire:
Aftermath
The Lazarus Codex:
Death Rites
Organ Grind
Shallow Grave
Set of Books 1-3
Knight Shift
Death Match
Death’s Door
Night Terror
Dark Revel
Other Works:
Beasts of Babylon
