Die and Stay Dead

by Nicholas Kaufmann

  And then I was back in the corridor, still running. What the hell…? I shook my head clear, trying to focus on my surroundings. Behind me, I heard noises from Thornton and the revenant that I didn’t want to think about. I didn’t know what a ghost wolf could do to a magically reanimated dead body. I didn’t want to know.

  A moment later, Thornton came bounding past me and around the corner up ahead. Following him, I found myself in another corridor, only this time there were no revenants suspended along the walls. The walls had changed from stone to metal. Pipes traced the length of the corridor along the ceiling. The floor was wet with shallow water that splashed under the soles of my boots. This was most certainly not the way back to the van.

  “Where are we going?” I called after Thornton. Of course he couldn’t answer. That would have been too easy, and apparently nothing in my life was ever allowed to be easy. I could only assume he was leading me toward an exit. What choice did I have? I kept following him.

  We raced down more metal hallways, each grading slightly upward toward ground level. At least we were headed in the right direction. Finally, I saw Thornton pass, immaterial, through a windowless steel door. When I reached it, I pulled it open and stepped out into a well-lit, generically institutional corridor of fluorescent lights, white walls, and a neutral, gray, tiled floor. I looked up and down the hallway and saw several other windowless steel doors like the one I’d come through. I caught a glimpse of Thornton rounding another corner and hurried after him.

  The wolf jumped straight through an emergency exit door like it wasn’t even there. I hit the crash bar and shoved the door open, exiting into a parking lot by the side of a building. The rain battered my head. A sudden, high-pitched shriek made me cover my ears. Damn. Opening the emergency exit had set off an alarm. As the door closed on its hydraulic hinge, I saw an official seal affixed to it that read OFFICE OF THE CHIEF MEDICAL EXAMINER—THE CITY OF NEW YORK.

  The city morgue. Of course. The perfect hiding place for Reve Azrael. With her lair right below, she would have access to unlimited bodies to turn into revenants—the bodies of crime and accident victims, prison inmates, and most importantly, the John Does, those unclaimed bodies that wouldn’t necessarily be missed if they disappeared. All those bodies suspended in the catacombs below—how long had she been harvesting from this place? How many had she taken?

  I glanced around the parking lot but didn’t see Thornton. Was he gone again? I couldn’t hang around to find out. This was an official government building; the alarm would bring someone soon. I tucked the fragment into the interior pocket of my trench coat and ran for the parking lot exit. When I was out, I kept running until I reached the corner. Then I stopped and got my bearings. I was on Thirtieth Street and First Avenue, right next to the NYU Medical Center.

  Part of me knew I should find a pay phone, call Isaac, and let him know I was okay. But there was something I needed to do first, something that felt a hell of a lot more pressing. I started walking toward the subway. If Thornton was still following me, he didn’t show himself.

  * * *

  In the reception area of Gamma Solutions, LLC, the Bay Ridge Harpy stood up indignantly from behind the reception desk. “Hey, you can’t just go in there! There’s protocol!” she shouted, pronouncing it prota-cawl.

  I didn’t stop. I didn’t say anything. I hadn’t since I stepped off the elevator. I just walked through the reception area and into the hallway. I knew the way. Three doors down on the left. I reached the door beside the plaque that read Jordana Pike, Systems Analyst, and opened it.

  Jordana was sitting at her desk, one finger on the speaker button of her phone. She looked up at me as I stormed into her office. The receptionist’s voice was coming through the speakerphone: “… barged right through like an asshole!” Ayass-howall.

  “Sorry about that. Everything’s okay. There’s no need to call security,” Jordana replied, then released the button. She looked at my wet, bloodstained clothes and the bruises and dried blood on my face. “Oh my God, what happened to you, Lucas? Are you all right?”

  I closed the door behind me. She got up out of her chair and tried to put her arms around me. I backed away from her.

  “Is my name really Lucas West?” I said.

  She froze. She looked confused and hurt, and for a moment my heart broke that I was the one who’d put such a pained expression on her face. I forced the feeling away. I couldn’t trust my feelings right now. I couldn’t trust anything.

  “I don’t understand. What’s going on?” Jordana asked.

  “I want the truth,” I said. “How can I be a normal guy from Pennsylvania when there’s this—this thing inside me—”

  “Lucas, stop.” She stepped closer and put her hands on my chest. Her touch instantly calmed me. “Tell me what happened. Did you find another fragment?”

  “Jordana, please, I have to know,” I insisted. “What am I? Where does this power come from? Is it—is it mine?”

  “I told you, you’re Lucas West,” she said.

  She gripped the lapels of my trench coat, pulled herself up onto her toes, and kissed me. The moment our lips touched all my questions evaporated, as ephemeral as steam. Jordana pulled away and touched a cool, comforting hand to my face.

  “I’ve been looking for you for years, Lucas, and now that I’ve finally found you, I’m not letting you slip away from me again.”

  I pulled her to me, crushing her so tightly I thought she might break. We kissed again, fiercely, and the next thing I knew we were in the small, cramped supply room around the corner from her office. My fingers worked the buttons of her blouse. I kissed her neck while she gasped and tangled her fingers in my hair. I didn’t want to think about the destructive power locked inside me. I didn’t want to think about Reve Azrael or Nahash-Dred or Erickson Arkwright or the end of the world. Let the world take care of itself for once—or let it burn if it had to, I didn’t care. I just wanted to be normal, even if only for a moment. I wanted to not care about anything. I wanted to be human.

  Twenty-Six

  When the fire inside us had burned itself out, we lay on my trench coat spread open on the bare supply room floor. I held Jordana for a while. She rested her head on my chest. My fingers traced lazy lines up and down her back through the thin material of her blouse.

  “Tell me more about your brother,” I said.

  She looked up at me. “Pete?”

  “It sounds like he was my closest friend,” I said. My closest friend until I disappeared on him, anyway. Until I disappeared on them both. I wished I knew why.

  Something passed through her eyes. I could feel her pulling away, as if a wall had come down between us. “I don’t want to talk about Pete right now,” she said, her voice hitching with emotion. She put her head on my chest again. “I—I can’t.”

  “It’s okay,” I said apologetically. Clearly, I needed to work on my pillow talk. I didn’t mean to touch a nerve. She was still mourning Pete’s loss, and her mother’s, too. The world had taken a lot from Jordana. She’d told me how much family meant to her. To suddenly be without her brother and mother, to lose everyone but the stepfather she barely got along with, I couldn’t even imagine that.

  She put a hand on my chest, still not looking at me. “I have nightmares every night, but in the morning I don’t remember them. I’m just left with this strange feeling that it had something to do with Pete and my mother. Like they want to tell me something important, but when I try to remember, it’s gone.”

  I stroked her hair. The gesture felt feeble, but I didn’t know how else to comfort her.

  “Do you ever—do you ever feel like you’re not in control sometimes?” she asked. “Like you’re falling toward something and can’t stop?” She stiffened almost imperceptibly, but I felt it through her body. She looked up at me, her eyes guarded. “I—I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know why I did.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I want to know things about you. I want to
know everything about you.”

  She smiled, but there was something missing. I felt like I was looking at a completely different person now. She rolled away from me, putting her back against me. She looked at the pointed edge of the Codex fragment peeking out from my coat’s interior pocket.

  “Is that the fragment?” she asked.

  “Yeah. It was in Battery Park, just like we thought. Arkwright didn’t get it from us this time, but he sure as hell tried.”

  I didn’t mention what else we’d found there, the underground complex and the brick wall with the Ehrlendarr rune from my first memory. I didn’t want to scare her. I also didn’t know what to make of it yet. What was that place? What had happened to me there? What had brought Lucas West, just a normal guy from Pennsylvania, to a place like that?

  The doubts crept back into my mind on the tail of a headache. How could I be Lucas West if what Reve Azrael said about me was true? If that terrible power was mine all along? She had to be lying, that was all. Lying was what Reve Azrael did. Time and again, she had tricked me, manipulated me for her own reasons. What she’d said was impossible. Lucas West made sense. The rest of it didn’t.

  And yet, hadn’t the oracles said Reve Azrael knew the truth about me?

  Seek out the Mistress of the Dead. She knows. She knows all who have passed through the dark that separates the cities of the living from the cities of the dead.

  “Jordana,” I said slowly. “There’s something I need to know—”

  “Can I see it?” she interrupted, still looking at the fragment. “I’ve read all about the Codex Goetia, but I’ve never seen the real thing.”

  “Wait,” I said. “First, tell me something. Tell me how Lucas—”

  Jordana rolled to face me again. She kissed me, and whatever I was going to ask her melted away faster than ice in a New York City August. My headache disappeared, too.

  “Please can I see the fragment?” she asked.

  I nodded. She took the triangular slab of metal out of my coat and stood up. She smoothed her skirt over her stockinged legs, then crossed the room to sit on a stack of copy paper cartons. She studied the fragment, turning it in her hands, admiring its details. Her blouse was still unbuttoned, revealing the dark red bra against her olive skin. I had trouble keeping my eyes on the fragment.

  “It’s amazing,” she said. “It’s everything I thought it would be. The craftsmanship is remarkable. Some demonologists say the Codex Goetia dates back to 900 B.C., but others say it’s even older. Some claim it’s not actually from Tulemkust, that it’s not even from our world. Whoever broke an artifact this old and this beautiful should be in jail, or worse.” She placed her hand flat against the fragment. “The metal looks like copper or brass, but it’s not, it’s something else. There’s almost a subtle vibration to it.”

  While she inspected the fragment, I managed to take my eyes off her and sit up. I glanced at the supply room door. We’d locked it from the inside so no one would find us, but now that the fragment was out in the open I was getting nervous. It was only a matter of time before someone came looking for a legal pad or a fresh pen or whatever it was office workers came to supply rooms for. It would be awkward enough to explain what we were doing in here half-naked without also having to explain why we had a priceless, antique artifact with us.

  Jordana studied the lettering on the fragment’s face. “None of these are Nahash-Dred’s name. It must be on one of the other fragments. How close are you to putting the Codex back together?”

  “Not as close as I’d like,” I said. “Arkwright still has the fragment he stole from us, and there’s one more fragment still hidden somewhere out there. Isaac and the others are probably already trying to find it.”

  “Lucas, you have to bring me all three pieces,” she said. “I told you, the Codex Goetia won’t work unless it’s whole. There’s no other way to banish Nahash-Dred back to his dimension.”

  “I’m sure Isaac’s got a handle on it. I just…” I paused, sighing. When I spoke again, it all came spilling out of me. “I just want to be normal. I want to forget about it all, the demons, the supernatural conspiracies, the infection. I don’t want this life anymore. I want to be Lucas West again. I want to go see my parents. I want to be with you and live a regular life.”

  “You can do that,” she said. “You can have that life again—we can have that life—but you need to bring me the fragments first.”

  The headache slipped back behind my eyes. I rubbed my forehead. Something wasn’t right. It felt like my thoughts were trying to force themselves through a solid wall.

  “Isaac can do it without me,” I managed to say.

  “No, he can’t. None of them can. They’re not like you. You’re stronger than they are. You’re the Immortal Storm.”

  I groaned, the pain in my head growing sharper. The Immortal Storm. I hated that name. Hated everything that came with it.

  “Without the Codex Goetia, there won’t be anything left for you to go back to, Lucas,” Jordana said. “Nahash-Dred is no joke. They call him the Destroyer of Worlds for a reason. He will annihilate all life on earth if we don’t use the Codex to banish him.”

  She was right, there would be no life to go back to if Arkwright unleashed Nahash-Dred on the world. If I wanted to reclaim my life, all I had to do was save the world first. No pressure.

  “You’re going to have to find the other fragments, and fast,” Jordana said. “In the meantime, I’ll hold onto this one. I can study it while you look for the others. Maybe I’ll find something that can help.”

  I stood and took the fragment out of her hands. “No, it’s safer if I hold onto it.”

  “Let me keep it for now,” she insisted. “Please. I can study it. I’ve been studying it, but only in books. This may be my only chance with the real thing.”

  I picked up my trench coat and slid the fragment back inside the interior pocket. “I can’t. It’s too dangerous. Arkwright is out there right now looking for it. I don’t want to put you in his crosshairs. Remember what I said before about not taking your usual route home tonight.”

  “Stop worrying, I’ll be fine,” she said.

  “He’s dangerous, Jordana. He wants to destroy the world. You can’t reason with someone like that. He’s got nothing to lose. Arkwright has already killed people to get this far. He won’t hesitate to kill more if he has to. Please, just for now, just until this is over, start taking different routes home. Do it for me.”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll be careful, I promise. Just please let me keep the fragment.”

  She walked into my arms and kissed me. Her body pressed against mine, so soft and warm. For a moment, I lost myself in the sensation. I wondered if I was overreacting. Jordana was a demonologist, after all. She was the only one who knew how to use the Codex. Letting her study it couldn’t hurt, could it? There might be some hidden clue, some other way to banish or defeat Nahash-Dred we didn’t know about. Maybe I should let her keep it. Why had I thought it wasn’t a good idea? I couldn’t even remember. I started to reach into my trench coat again to pull out the fragment.

  A man’s voice came from the hallway outside, calling Jordana’s name. Damn. Someone was looking for her. I’d forgotten her office was right around the corner.

  Jordana broke away. I came to my senses and left the fragment in my pocket.

  “Damn it, not now,” she hissed under her breath. She started buttoning her blouse quickly. She looked angry enough to kill her coworker for interrupting us. I almost felt sorry for the poor guy, except I kind of wanted to kill him, too.

  “I’d better go before they find us in here,” I said, straightening my disheveled clothes. I pulled on the trench coat. “I’ll get a new phone from Isaac. Call me when you’re home. I want to know you’re safe.”

  “Just go,” she said. She sounded angry, but I didn’t know if she was angry at her coworker or at me for not letting her keep the fragment.

  I opened the door quietly and peeked out.
The hallway was empty, but I heard footsteps coming my way from the direction of Jordana’s office. I ducked down the hall in the opposite direction. I took the long way around the office, eventually finding my way back to the reception area. The Bay Ridge Harpy glared at me from behind the desk, snapping her gum like she was cocking a revolver.

  I rang for the elevator, stepped inside, and pressed the lobby button. It didn’t sink in until I was halfway down how close I’d come to giving Jordana the fragment, despite my better judgment. I’d lost myself somehow. It wasn’t the first time, either. I’d felt it in her office, too, when all the questions I’d meant to ask her died on my tongue. I’d felt it since the first time we met.

  Why did I never feel in control around her?

  * * *

  When I got back to Citadel, I found Isaac, Bethany, and Gabrielle seated around the big table. Calliope’s notebook and Isaac’s laptop sat on the table between them. When they saw me, they got up and came over.

  “My God, man, are you all right?” Isaac asked, sounding relieved. “What happened?”

  “I had a run-in with Reve Azrael and her revenants, but I’m fine,” I said. “I got the fragment back.” I took it out of my pocket and put it on the table. “She knows about the demon. She knows about Arkwright. She knows about all of it.”

  “Does she know the name Arkwright is using now, or where the demon is?” Isaac asked.

  “I don’t know. She was definitely holding something back. She knows more than she’s saying. But one thing’s for certain, she doesn’t like Arkwright any more than we do. She offered an alliance, but it came with the usual caveat: rule over a city of the dead by her side. I told her no.”