“Do what you need to do,” I said as I got out of bed. “I’m going to feed Shadow, then I have some things I need to take care of before the party tonight.”
Sybil was quiet while I dressed but held out her hand as I was about to leave.
“If you’ve made up your mind about this, maybe we should go together. We said we were in this as partners, and that we’re gonna leave Ashburn together one day, right?”
I nodded and put my hands on her shoulders.
“We are in this together,” I said, “And I could really use your help.”
“What can I do?” she said with a nod.
“Go to the party before me. Scope the place out. Try to find out what’s going on, and more than anything, keep track of Oizys until I show up.”
“Will you come find me when you get there?”
“You can count on it,” I said with a grin. “But I don’t think you’re going to have a hard time figuring out when I arrive.”
Chapter 42
SYBIL SAID THE party started at ten, so I had all day to prepare, and that included making a few social calls.
First stop was Oizys herself. I didn’t expect anything to come from it, but if she knew I was onto her, I thought there’d be a small chance she’d give up her plans without a fight.
When I parked outside the Nature Center, her car wasn’t there, but I went inside anyway, with Shadow at my heel.
“Unless he’s a service animal, that dog is not allowed in here,” a nasally female voice called out from my left. I looked over and saw a short, roundish woman with a helmet of orange-blonde hair.
“I don’t suppose Oizys is around,” I said.
She shook her head, but her hair didn’t move.
“She’s off for the weekend and out of the office all next week. Perhaps I could assist you with something...after you remove your pet.”
She was telling the truth about Oizys, as far as she knew it, but I disliked her anyway. Shadow made a low, gurgling sound that let me know he agreed with my assessment.
“Thanks for nothing,” I said, before turning to leave.
The Oizys trip was a bust, and next on my list was Marco. Ten minutes later, I pulled up to La Flower Shoppe. When I stepped into the store with Shadow once again by my side, the regulars were there, sorting flowers. The instant they saw us, Miguel, Julio, and Santos set down their stems, slipped on their pendants, and prepared for a fight.
I raised my hands and forced a smile—something I’d never been very good at.
“Not today, boys,” I said as I let my glowing red eyes burn through my facade. “I’m here with a business deal for Marco.”
Miguel glanced at Shadow, then shot me a dirty look as he headed to the back of the store. When he returned with his boss, I tried to read Marco’s body movements and his demeanor, but all I saw was the face of a junkie who barely had himself under control.
“What do you want, John? I already sent out the orders for next week, so I hope you don’t want to make any changes.”
“I want to hire your gang for the night,” I said.
He laughed.
“The great demon enforcer and his pet hellhound need the Olmecs? You really are a lot funnier than usual.”
“You won’t have to do much,” I said. “Just get me to a party and wait for me outside.”
“Like a taxi?” he said.
“Something like that.”
“Is it a birthday party with ponies and cake and hot soccer moms? Or maybe one of those formal events at the Kennedy Center. Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot, you can’t go to the Kennedy Center, because it’s not in Ashburn.”
He stepped closer—the power of his pendant making me weak. He wasn’t a demon, but I could see fire in his eyes all the same.
“I hope you’re not talking about that swingers thing tonight. You know you’re not invited to those, hijo.”
“This is my town, and I’m giving myself an invitation,” I said. “I’ve been working really hard lately, and I need to let off some steam.”
Marco tilted his head left, then right, cracking his neck.
“Those parties always have their own security. That kind of taxi ride don’t come cheap.”
“If your boys can’t do it, I can ask someone else.”
“We can do it. I just don’t know if I want to yet. What are you paying with?”
I looked into his eyes, past the bravado and spoke to the addict crouched inside. He was talking tough, but I could tell he was drooling at the thought of tasting more of my blood.
“You know what I’m offering,” I said.
Marco licked his cracked lips.
“I still have some of your shit left over from yesterday,” he said, trying to drive down the demand side of the equation.
“First off, no you don’t,” I said. “Secondly, I’ll give you two vials right now in good faith, but that’s my final offer.”
His mouth moved—looking for another tough guy line to throw in my face, but his inner junkie pushed to the front of the line and took over the negotiations.
“Two now plus two more vials after the job is over.”
I wasn’t sure how much blood I could safely lose, but if the night went the way I was thinking it might, I was going to need Marco’s help to get inside.
“Two vials now and one after the job. Take it or leave it.”
“You just bought yourself a ride,” he said, snapping his fingers at Santos. “Bring a couple of vials and a kit.”
Within seconds, the shop was closed for business, and the veins in my arm were pumping out the precious substance Marco craved so much. When both of the glass containers were full, Marco capped them off and pulled them close to his chest like they were filled with gold.
Before he could stash them away, I grabbed his arm.
“One more thing,” I said, leaning in close. “You can’t shoot up yet. I need you clean and in charge of your people tonight. If you don’t agree to that, I’ll smash those vials right now, and get someone else to help me.”
He huffed then pulled away from me, placing each container of my blood into its own protective case.
“You worry about your plans for the party, and I’ll take care of things on my end. Entiende?”
“Yeah, I understand,” I said. “But if you show up high, I’ll know, and that will be the last of my blood you’ll ever get. Entiende?”
A look of strained panic shot across his face—an addict facing a dilemma.
“I told you not to worry,” he said, but his voice cracked at the end. “What time you want us there?”
“Meet me at eleven, a block down from the party. I assume you’re on their email list?”
“Don’t worry about what lists I’m on,” he said with a dark laugh. “But after we get you settled in, I might sample some of the local treats myself. Sometimes, the Ashburn ladies get in the mood for a bad boy like me, you know?”
“You don’t get to go inside unless I say so. You’re working for me tonight, not partying.”
“Any other demands you want to make before you and your ugly dog get out of my place and leave me alone?” he said with a scowl.
“You should come prepared for more than their usual security.”
“What the hell does that mean?” he said.
“I don’t know what to expect, but make sure everyone wears their pendants. And if you see a big black goat that talks—”
Marco shook his head.
“If I see that goat you’re talking about, we’re out of there, and I’m keeping your blood for my trouble. You can deal with that monster on your own.”
I was going to push back on him, but instead, I nodded, turned, and walked out the door. The truth was I really didn’t know what to expect. For all I knew, Oizys had only hired a couple of beefy bouncers or off-duty cops to work the door. But given everything she’d already gone through to keep me from finding out about her plans, my gut told me to be prepared for something a bit more substantial.
&nb
sp; As I drove away with Shadow in the passenger seat, I turned on the car radio and tuned in the classic rap station. I smiled as Mike D and the boys shouted at me through the speakers, telling me I had to fight for my right to party. Maybe it was an omen, or maybe I was reading too much into it, but the lyrics gave me the boost I needed to prepare for the fight ahead.
I belted out the words to the chorus, and Shadow howled along next to me. I laughed and pressed down harder on the accelerator as we sped to the bookstore. A few minutes later, I screeched into the parking lot and got Shadow set up in the store with a fresh bowl of water.
“I’ll be back in a few,” I said as Shadow settled on the floor and rested his chin on his two front paws, looking bored.
I locked up behind me and stepped next door for some pad thai and a talk with Rose. The server sat me quickly at one of the booths, but as I’d feared, Rose was still visiting her sister somehow. With a sigh, I ordered the Drunken Noodles and prepared to stock up on some carbs for later on.
After shoving the savory food down my throat, I returned to the bookstore, sat down in one of the reading chairs, and rubbed Shadow’s blocky head.
Since I was running early, I picked up “The Serpent and the Rainbow,” from the end table. Whether it was coincidence or fate, the page I turned to dealt with the topic of Haitian zombies. One of the black and white photos showed a gaunt man with dirt on his face and rags for clothing. Everything about him seemed alive, except for his eyes. They were lifeless and hazed over, just like Laura’s and Marie’s.
I’d seen zombie movies growing up and plenty of modern day TV shows about them. But those were flesh-eating monsters with an insatiable drive to devour living flesh. Haitian zombies were different.
According to the passage, Voodoo was a valid religion, but spirit possession and the act of zombification exposed its darker side. If a Voodoo sorcerer—a bokor—wanted to force someone to become his unwilling slave, he administered a special powder to his victim. Within minutes, the person died, or at least it would appear that way. After the funeral, the bokor would visit the grave and raise the body from the dead. When the victim stepped out of the ground, they weren’t the same person. They were without their soul, a zombie damned to roam the land of the living, compelled to do as the bokor commanded.
Western science concluded that victims were given a powerful toxin to simulate death and were later raised from the dead by the bokor as the poison wore off. But those of the faith still believed.
I closed the book and shook my head. A week ago, I would have taken the civilized explanation as the truth without a second thought. But after everything I’d seen, I believed Marie and Laura Henders were real zombies—not completely dead, but missing the part of their soul that made them fully human. That was disturbing enough, but what bothered me the most was an unanswered question. If Marie and Laura were zombies, who was the bokor that had made them, and why was he or she helping Oizys by distracting me?
I had a feeling I’d find out the answer to that and more at the party, but first I had some serious prep work to do, so I set the book on the end table and got busy.
Chapter 43
I POPPED OPEN the Audi’s trunk and picked up Gus and my dagger, along with a large metal file and a small hatchet I’d snagged from John’s garage. Through the lenses of my goggles, I could see pure white magic coming off of Gus like steam.
I smiled.
Even though Chaz was only a god of pig farmers, he was still a god, and having a weapon that was oozing magic from a deity had to be a good thing.
When I stepped back into the bookstore, it was already noon as I turned the sign to Closed and shook my head. In the five days since I’d arrived, I hadn’t sold a single book, and I’d spoken to only one customer. I promised myself that if I survived the night, I’d have to do something about that.
But at that moment, I had more important things to tend to. I headed straight for the rear hallway, with Shadow following silently behind me. A second later, I stepped into the hidden room and was greeted by the sound of Walt’s writing.
I made my way through the maze of stacked papers and books to his desk. He still had a way to go before needing more paper, but I didn’t know how the night was going to turn out. So I set Gus, the dagger, and the tools on the table and slapped another twelve inches of paper down for Walt to use.
When I peeked over his shoulder, I saw what I expected—a large sheet of paper filled with words and symbols I didn’t understand. I shrugged and walked over to the leather books with the names in them and opened the first one, turning to the page with Oizys’s name on it.
“I don’t suppose you know could tell me how to pronounce this?” I asked Walt, but as expected, he didn’t even acknowledge my question.
I flipped through the book and exhaled loudly. All that knowledge and power in my hands, but none of it was within reach. I closed the tome with a sigh, took a deep breath, and began my preparations.
The main thing I had to do besides getting my courage up was to turn Gus into a proper weapon. First, I dug out the frets and the rest of the hardware from the wood with a screwdriver. After a few whacks from the hatchet and a lot of filing, the jagged guitar neck started to look more like a giant, sharpened stake or a short wooden spear.
With a nod of satisfaction, I set the new and improved Gus next to the dagger and went looking for something to help me carry them.
In one corner of the room, I found pieces of rolled-up, thick leather. I’d had a lot of jobs in my day, but a tailor hadn’t been one of them, and I had no idea how to sew. But my dagger cut easily through the material, and in half an hour I’d fashioned two crude loops and attached them to my belt. They weren’t pretty, but they held Gus and the dagger securely and left my hands free to do other things.
With my weapons at my side and my goggles on my head, Shadow and I left the hidden room to wait until it was time to meet Marco. When I stepped through the hidden door and into the store, I furrowed my brow, confused because night had already fallen.
That was the second occasion time had gone wonky when I’d been inside the room. I’d only been in there for a little more than an hour, but when I checked my watch, I only had fifteen minutes before my meet-up with Marco and his gang.
I cursed as I raced to lock up the store and ran to the car, Shadow prancing effortlessly behind me.
Once I was at the wheel and Shadow was in the passenger seat, I sped out of the parking lot and pulled up to the stoplight at Claiborne. The light was red, but there wasn’t any traffic, so I blew through the signal and burned rubber. I was so intent on driving that I didn’t even take the time to find the perfect song for the trip. Instead, I turned up the song that was playing as loud as it would go and listened to Oingo Boingo sing about going to a dead man’s party. Hilarious.
Five minutes later, I parked along the curb some ways down from the party and got out of the car. As I stood under the streetlamp’s yellow light, I knew I looked foolish in my outfit, but I hadn’t dressed to impress. I’d been going for a functional, badass vibe, and I thought I achieved that look quite nicely.
Shadow sat on my foot as we waited. Two minutes later, Shadow’s ears stood straight up, and I heard footsteps coming toward us. Marco emerged from the darkness—good to his word after all—with a dozen members of his gang and none of them looking happy. Miguel, Santos, and Julio were up front—the usual suspects—but the rest of his guys were new to me, and each of them looked every bit as hard as I suspected they were.
“I hope you’re ready to boogie,” Marco said as he stepped up to me with a smile. “Because your bodyguards are here, pendejo.”
I nodded and turned with Marco as we started walking toward the house. As uncertain as I was about the way the evening would turn out, I felt pretty good knowing Marco and his group of thugs had my back. I didn’t know what kind of security Oizys had hired, but I knew one thing for sure—if I’d been assigned to guard the door and saw us coming, I’d
step aside and let me in without a second thought.
As we walked down the lamp-lit street, I was ready for anything—for full-on fiery demons or hordes of hellhounds. But I wasn’t prepared for the dozen slow moving figures that ambled toward us from the front yard.
As they passed under one of the street lamps, I saw Laura Henders leading the group. On either side of her were my two friends from outside the pub, Buddy and Paul. Their bodies looked the same, but as they shuffled along in silence, their milky white eyes told me someone had upgraded them from possessed morons to mindless zombies. And of course, behind them were my favorite zombie gardeners. At least they were finally getting a break from their lawn duties.
For a second, I was hopeful Marie was with them, but when I scanned the group, she was nowhere to be seen.
Chapter 44
I KNEW THE CREATURES coming at us weren’t real people anymore. But, something inside me—a part of my soul that was still far from demonic—revolted at the thought of hurting them. I’d never met Laura while she was alive, but I felt close to her, maybe because she was trying to survive in a situation not of her own choosing—just like me.
The gang members behind me didn’t share my warm and fuzzy thoughts about the living dead, however. Before I could say anything, three of them ran ahead and swung baseball bats into the crowd of zombies, aiming for their heads. Four of the zombies went down in the first thirty seconds as Marco’s men jumped on them and ended their undead lives forever by stabbing iron-bladed knives through their skulls and into their brains. Three more of Marco’s thugs sprinted past me and attacked Buddy and Paul, hitting them with bats and stabbing and slicing at them with their knives.
They broke one of Paul’s arms and dealt blows to his head that would have killed him if he hadn’t been dead already. A few seconds later, Buddy fell under their barrage and was quickly ended by Marco’s men. But Paul fought on with supernatural determination despite the damage to his physical body.
Even when his left leg broke at an unnatural angle, Paul grabbed one of Marco’s guys who stepped too close and slammed him into the asphalt of the street. The gang member’s skull hit the road so hard that I heard a loud pop as it split against the pavement.
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