by E. A. Copen
I walked toward the door, carefully stepping over fallen debris.
The key slid in and the lock turned without resistance. No monsters jumped out to grab me, and the doorknob didn’t burn my hand.
Light flooded the room when I opened the door. I lifted a hand over my eyes to block out the pure white light, but still couldn’t see into it.
“Yo, Lazarus!”
I looked over my shoulder when Baron LaCroix called my name.
He grinned back at me. “Remember to always look on the bright side of life, friend!”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said and stepped into the light with a Monty Python song playing behind me.
Chapter Six
I gasped in air like a man drowning. A tiny sun blinded me from above while I lay on a block of ice. My chest ached as if someone had driven a dump truck into it. Every vein was filled with angry hornets. Some asshole was squeezing my right bicep way too hard.
A shocked mop of frizzy red hair blocked out the light. “Oh, thank Heaven. I thought we’d lost you.”
“N-N-Nate?” I was so cold, even shivering hurt.
The events of the previous night came back to me slowly. I’d gone to the morgue because I didn’t know where else my body would be safe. To get to Helheim, I’d had to drink a vial of sap from the World Tree, which I’d surmised would temporarily vacate my soul from my body. It was a neat trick, but not something I ever wanted to repeat if coming back hurt that much every time. Too bad I still had six more Hells to visit according to everyone downstairs.
Nate, my best friend and the assistant parish coroner, had agreed to keep an eye on my body during his overnight shift. The last thing I remembered was him helping me lie down on a cold metal slab.
“How long was I out?” My voice sounded raw. I tried to get up, but Nate pushed me back down. It was just as well since I was dizzy.
“My shift ends in ten minutes,” he said, adjusting the light over his head so it wasn’t shining right in my eyes. “We’ve got to get you mobile and fast. If my boss walks in and finds you like this, he’s going to put me on the autopsy table next.”
I tried to reach over and pry the blood pressure cuff off my arm, but my limbs were stiff and uncooperative.
“Quit wasting effort.” Nate tore the cuff off my arm and tucked it away. “You’re going to be stiff. You were mostly dead for almost eight hours.” He put an arm behind my back and pulled me up to sit.
My back and hip complained in loud, rapid-fire cracks. “W-Well, M-M-Miracle Max, hopefully, my mostly dead body wasn’t too much trouble.”
“We’ll talk about it later. Right now, we need to get you moving so the blood will start pumping right again.”
Nate tried to help me to my feet, but I yelped when my shoes hit the floor. The soles of my feet felt like they’d been burned raw. I hit the gurney with a curse, which jarred my body enough to make the side of my face sore. What the hell?
“What did you do?” Nate groaned as he pulled off one of my shoes, pulled on a glove and probed my foot. “Looks like you went for a walk on hot coals.”
I jerked my foot away from him and stared at the bottom of it. The whole first layer of skin was gone, leaving my foot raw, red, and covered in weeping blisters, just like it should’ve been if I’d walked through a pit in Hell to free Fenrir. Except I hadn’t done that with my physical body, so why were my injuries showing upon this plane? “My face...bruised too?”
He looked at my face, winced, and nodded.
I cursed. That was about all I could manage, since getting that last sentence out nearly sapped all my energy. If I didn’t get recharged and soon, my body would run out of emergency reserves and go on autopilot. That would be bad. I’d wind up draining the heat energy out of anything I touched without even meaning to. I needed to get away from death and surround myself with life.
“Please don’t use His name in vain, Lazarus. I’ll go get a chair and be right back.” Nate scrambled to his feet and rushed out of the morgue, leaving the doors swinging behind him as if he’d caused a mini tornado in his rush.
I hovered on the edge of consciousness, swaying back and forth on the slab. Stubbornness alone kept me upright until Nate returned with a manual, leather-backed wheelchair.
“Nate,” I groaned as he helped me into the chair, “I need life. Nothing human or animal. They’ll get hurt.”
“And I need to keep my job, so we’re going to book it out of here before my boss shows up, okay?” He adjusted the foot pedals, grabbed the handles and ran.
We crashed through the doors and made a sharp left that left me flailing to try and grip the sides of the chair. My arms still wouldn’t cooperate, and I almost fell to the floor, but Nate did some maneuver that popped me right back in the seat as if he’d done it a thousand times. We slid to a stop right in front of the closed elevator doors where Nate tapped the call button frantically.
Somehow, when I was barely holding onto consciousness, I managed to conjure the name and image of Nate’s superior. He was a cocksure bastard named D.J. something. I couldn’t recall the last name. The only two things I remembered about D.J. were his good looks, and how much Emma appreciated those good looks. She’d hinted once that they’d dated a few times, but nothing really came of it.
While we were waiting for the elevator, I wondered what exactly “nothing” meant. A couple drinks after work? Expensive dinners? Casual sex? The thought of them together made my blood boil. I almost wished we could stay. I’d have loved the chance to grill him.
With a ding, the elevator stopped on our floor. Nate grabbed the handles of my chair, ready to wheel me in the second the doors opened wide enough.
The doors slid open, revealing a six-one asshole with a chin dimple, dark hair, and fashionable glasses in a white lab coat. Embroidered in his jacket was the name James. That’s right. D.J.’s last name was James.
D.J. looked up from the clipboard in his hands and flashed a perfect toothpaste-commercial smile. “Nathan! Glad I ran into you. I wanted to talk to you about Wednesday’s logs. Oh, hello.” His eyes went to me with the last sentence.
“Hi, Dr. James,” Nate huffed out and pushed my chair into the elevator, shoving D.J. aside. He slapped the button for the lobby on the way through and then the door close button. “Bye, Dr. James.”
D.J. waved the clipboard. “We’re still going to talk about these logs, Nathan! You can’t avoid me forever!” He had to say the last sentence through closed doors.
Nate breathed a sigh of relief. “I hate that guy.”
“Trouble?”
“Nah, just workplace politics. He’s been a real stickler lately. I can’t decide if he hates me in particular or he’s just an asshole.”
“I’m betting on grade-A asshole.”
On the way out of the building, Nate made a quick stop in his office and came out with a cactus. He thrust it at me. “Here.”
I winced as my hand closed around the pot, carefully avoiding the needles. “What’s this?”
“You said you needed something living. That’s all I’ve got. Take it or leave it.”
I stared at the spined plant. To really benefit, I’d have to be in physical contact. The prospect of grabbing a cactus wasn’t exactly exciting, but it was either that or risk draining life and warmth from Nate himself. Sometimes, being a necromancer really sucks. I sighed, braced myself and grabbed the damn cactus.
THE CACTUS WAS A CRUMBLING, skeletal carcass by the time Nate pulled up to a quaint one-story yellow house with red shutters. Stepping stones split a yard with grass just high enough to warrant a trim. Green bushes butted up against the house, their branches reaching a little too far to have been properly kept. Leah’s white Kia sat at the head of the driveway, just short of a squat garage full of old bicycles, plastic totes, and random tools. Yellow light warmed the windows. In other words, it looked like the home of a family with a new baby.
For a minute, I wondered what kind of house Odette and I would ha
ve chosen to raise Remy in if we’d stayed together. If she hadn’t died. If my life wasn’t so damn messy. It was impossible to picture anything because it never would’ve worked out.
My throat caught when I tried to swallow. Remy deserved a house, a family, a life. Somewhere she could bounce down the walk to the bus stop. A yard littered with toys and tall grass. It was a life I knew I couldn’t give her.
Nate climbed out of the old van he’d bought after I helped total his car a few months back. “You need the chair still?”
He’d run the heat all the way across town, despite the warm morning, saying it would help my muscles work their way back to normal. I wasn’t complaining. My body temperature was probably still sitting firmly around ninety-five.
I’d be damned if I was going to let him wheel me into the house like an invalid in front of Leah though. Leah’s sharp, predatory nature would hone right in on me, and she’d really let me have it. “I’ll walk.”
Nate nodded and came around to help me out of the car. I was still stiff, but not quite as bad as I had been at the morgue. My arms and legs felt like spaghetti that had been left out to dry on the counter, slightly pliable but still floppy. It took all my concentration and coordination to get my legs to work. If Nate hadn’t been right next to me, holding me up, I would’ve collapsed.
He pushed open the front door with me still hanging on his shoulder. “Leah, we’re back!”
Nate’s living room was a cozy, lived-in space. A corduroy sofa the color of work jeans had blankets tossed over one arm. A dog-eared paperback devotional rested on the coffee table next to an empty teacup on a saucer. Next to the sofa, a matching rocking chair with a crocheted afghan waited. It should’ve been illegal for a chair to look so inviting.
A heavyset woman I didn’t know stopped in the far doorway, a baby over the washrag on her shoulder. She had brown eyes and a short bob with blonde highlights that had recently been touched up. Dimpled cheeks, cute dress...she looked like the youngest sister or best friend of the popular girl at school.
Her eyes appraised me a moment before her face lit up with a warm, genuine smile. “You must be this one’s daddy.”
Nate helped me to the chair and hit the lever that propelled my feet up and head back into a reclining position. “Not now, Sarah.”
Sarah must’ve been the name of Leah’s sister, who I’d assumed was the stranger holding my little girl.
“Not now?” Sarah huffed. “I barely see you for three days, you wander in with a half-dead stranger, tracking mud, and all you can say is not now?”
“Laz, what do you need?” Nate had ignored Sarah, which I didn’t think would bode well for his health in the long run. She looked like he’d slapped her.
Post any trip to the After, I needed to surround myself with life to recharge and remind my body that it was supposed to be alive. This last excursion had been the hardest one on me yet. Normally, I’d have taken Remy right away and held her to me. Human contact was one of the best ways to remind the body what it was supposed to be doing. Yet if I was still in a state where I was draining life from things, I didn’t want to hold her just yet. My body had to reach a state of equilibrium first. That meant I was still a potential danger.
I offered him the dead cactus. “Got any other houseplants?”
Nate turned to Sarah. His glasses slid down his nose a quarter inch. He pushed them back up. “Sarah, can you—”
She snorted, cutting him off. “No, I can’t. I have my hands full, and Leah needs help getting Jessica changed.” With that, she turned and walked out of the room.
He sighed. “I’ll be right back.”
Over the course of the next fifteen minutes, Nate brought me a series of plastic containers with potting soil and little green sprouts in them. Mint, parsley, basil, rosemary, sage...I burned through most of Leah’s indoor herb garden, watching the leaves curl up and turn brown. He handed me a pot of thyme, and when it didn’t immediately wilt and die, we both let out a relieved breath.
I looked over the six tiny containers full of dead herbs. “Leah is going to be pissed.”
“At least it isn’t another car.” Nate took the plant from my hands. “Now, let’s look at all those injuries.”
He got some antibiotic cream, gauze pads and wrapped up my blistered feet without any questions about how it’d happened. Nate was good about not being too nosy when it came to the supernatural, even when I knew he wanted to know more. He’d helped me out more than anyone else when my back was against the wall, which meant I owed him. I just didn’t know how I’d repay him for all his kindness, especially if Leah and her sister didn’t like me. Eventually, I’d wear out my welcome. Just like I’d drained life from the plants, I tended to drain the best people if they stuck with me too long. It’d be better for him and his family if I kept my distance, but I didn’t know where else to go.
Leah came in from the kitchen just after Nate handed me an ice pack for my face. She gently bounced a bundle of pink and black, stopping just a few feet away when her eyes fell on the dead plants still scattered around. Her face hardened. Without saying a word, she managed to communicate rage. That was Leah’s special talent. I was convinced the woman ran off quiet, matronly anger and worry.
“I suppose I should be thankful you’re alive,” she said. “At least Remy doesn’t have to grow up an orphan.”
I cringed, and not because of the pain of the ice pack against the side of my face. “I’m sorry, Leah. I’ll replace the plants.”
“Never mind the plants. Who’s going to replace you if you don’t come back next time?” Her tone was icy.
Nate looked up from the bandages he was wrapping around my hand. I’d almost forgotten I’d torn it open. “Leah, please.”
“No,” she snapped, “he needs to hear this. For her sake. What kind of father leaves his daughter alone for days at a time while he goes off, Heaven knows where, risking his life? It’s no environment for a child. I’ve half a mind to call someone and report you for abandonment.”
I jerked my hand away from Nate. “I didn’t abandon her. I left her with you. I thought she was in good hands.”
“I had no way to get in contact with you if there was an emergency, no idea when you’d be back, or if you’d be back! It’s hard enough taking care of one baby, but two? I can’t do this anymore.”
“Then quit busting my balls and give me my daughter.” I lowered the ice pack and held my arms out, glaring at Leah.
She stomped the three feet over to deposit Remy in my arms.
The pain and anger Leah had managed to conjure overrode every other sense. But when Leah put Remy in my arms, it evaporated, replaced by the same wonder and fears I’d harbored the first time I held her in Faerie.
She was bigger than I remembered. It’d only been a few days. How much could she grow in just a few days? Her cheeks were fat and pink with perfect color. Those pouty lips were still blowing spit bubbles. Her brown eyes got big, focusing on me, and her little arms and legs waved as if she were trying to kick free. Remy’s mouth widened into a big, toothless grin and my heart melted.
Leah was right. What the hell was I doing, running through seven hells, letting monsters loose on Remy’s world? It’d been a knee-jerk reaction, jumping in to save Emma. It hurt, losing her, but would it hurt more to lose Remy? In ten years’ time, how would I explain to my daughter what I was doing? Sorry about the monsters taking over the world, kiddo. People do stupid things when they’re in love.
Except maybe I wasn’t, really. I thought I’d been in love with Odette and Beth too, and they’d walked away. After so many years, I should’ve been used to losing people I thought I’d cared about. You’d think I’d have taken it better.
What if, in the process of trying to save Emma, I couldn’t come back for Remy?
And what if I died asleep in my bed of an aneurysm tomorrow night? It could happen. Anything could happen at any time. Living my life and basing my decisions on the fear of what might come
to pass would be a slippery slope to inaction. I wouldn’t be paralyzed by fear. That’d be even worse than choosing to do nothing because it wouldn’t be choosing at all.
I kissed Remy’s forehead. “I’m sorry I left,” I whispered. “I’ll do everything I can to always come back, but sometimes there are just things a man’s gotta do for his family, even if they don’t understand. That means I have to go places that aren’t safe, and that means I have to leave. I hope one day you’ll understand that. If I’m lucky, you might even forgive me for it.”
Leah deflated with a sigh. “I’m sorry, Lazarus. I just...I’m worried about her.”
By extension, that meant she was worried about me. I was touched, but I was also exhausted. My eyelids drooped. The muscles in my arms shook with the effort of staying strong enough to hold Remy.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated, this time to Leah, not knowing what else to say. “Trust me, I hate the idea of imposing, especially after all you’ve already done, but—”
Nate stood. “You’re staying. There’s a daybed in the nursery, and you’re welcome to it. Right, Leah?” He gave his wife a pleading glance.
She closed her eyes and nodded. “Of course. It wouldn’t be right to turn you out, especially when you look half-dead. I’d tell you to go to the hospital, but you’d just refuse so I guess the best I can offer is a warm bed, a roof, and a hot meal.”
I nodded my thanks because I was too tired to talk.
Nate slid his hands under Remy and pulled her away so that I could stand. I didn’t want her out of my arms because holding her was the only thing that felt right anymore, but I didn’t trust myself to hold her and navigate the stairs to the nursery.
My body ached, and my feet burned with every step. Nate followed with Remy in one arm, his other hand out in front of him in case I fell. At least the stairway had good, heavy-duty wood railing. I leaned on it and pulled myself up twelve steps to another floor with white carpet.
Nate led me to a ten-by-twelve bedroom where a crib and a playpen had been set up. The mobile over the crib was a kidified version of the solar system, complete with rings on Saturn and a couple of smiling rocks to depict an asteroid belt. Everything was pink and frilly, even the duvet on the daybed. I didn’t care. I crashed onto the daybed and faceplanted into a lacy pink pillow while Nate deposited Remy in the crib.
