by E. A. Copen
Evidence of the fight was still there. The divider that normally hid my computer from view was broken and lying against the wall in two pieces. The table where I had killed and brought back Dominique You still held the bloodstains. I walked over to it and let my fingers rest on the dried blood.
Something clicked next to my head, and I was suddenly aware that I wasn’t alone in my office. I turned my head, relieved to find Emma waiting in the dark. She had one arm in a sling but otherwise looked unhurt, just pissed.
She scowled and leveled a gun at my head. “Hands in the air, asshole, or I paint the wall with your brain.”
Chapter Twelve
The last time I’d seen Detective Emma Knight, I’d just turned a ghoul into a zombie. The Archon had stormed through the back door of the shop and knocked Moses unconscious before breaking Emma’s arm. The only way I could keep the Archon from causing more damage was to agree to work with him. I’d left with a succubus and a child murderer voluntarily. Of course, I’d found a way out of it, but that was long after I walked away from Emma, leaving her broken and alone. The Archon was dead, and his intended child victims safe.
Emma didn’t know that. She looked at me and saw a possible monster who had helped an even worse monster kill innocent kids.
I slowly raised my hands in surrender.
Her fierce glare didn’t let up, and she didn’t lower the gun. “Put the staff down.”
“I’m going to put it on the desk, okay?”
She gestured with the gun. “Slowly. And keep your hands where I can see them. You make one move I don’t like, and it’ll be your last.”
I followed her directions and placed the staff flat on the desk. “What can I do to prove it’s me?”
“Who’s me?” She growled. “Someone should’ve told you the face you’re wearing belongs to a dead man. Put your palms flat on the table and spread your legs.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Come on, Emma. How about your grandfather? He was the first black cop in the parish. You said he inspired you.”
She moved behind me, stepping by crossing one foot in front of the other so that she could keep the gun trained on me. When she got behind me, she shoved me toward the table. That was Emma for you. No wiggle room. It was her way or the hard way.
I did what she said.
She patted me down. One-handed, it took a little longer than normal. “A lot of people know that story, and not all of them might be human.” Something thumped onto the table in front of me. A knife, silver by the looks of it. “Cut yourself with that.”
“Emma, I’m not—”
She gritted her teeth and pressed the barrel of the gun against my head. “Do it or die!”
“Okay, okay. Jesus.” I picked up the knife and slid it over my finger pressing deep enough to draw blood. “See?” I showed it to her. “Where’d you get a silver knife anyway?”
Emma didn’t answer. She produced a metal flask from her belt that she placed on the table. “Drink it.”
“What the hell’s in it?”
“Holy water and salt. The flask is iron.”
I frowned at the flask. She was seriously paranoid, but obliging her would be better than either getting my brain blown out or walking out of there in cuffs. I picked up the flask, unscrewed the lid, and downed the contents, swallowing with a sour face. “Any other tests?”
“Just one.” She lowered the gun briefly to undo the top button of her blouse.
“Emma, there’s no need to…” I trailed off when she lifted a string of amber beads that hung around her neck, tucked under the shirt, so they weren’t visible. My heart sank into my stomach. After everything that had happened, she was still wearing that necklace I’d given her on her birthday.
Her eyes looked wet as she held the beads up and asked, “How old am I?”
“You’re thirty. I gave you that necklace after Beth didn’t show. I said everyone should have something to open on their birthday. You laughed, but I still think it made you sad. I still don’t know why.”
Her chin quivered. The voice that came out was small, fearful. “Lazarus?”
I shrugged. “In the flesh.”
The gun fell from her hand, and she surged forward. With only one arm, you’d think she couldn’t hug that tight, but her squeeze still threatened to break ribs. Her shoulders trembled.
I put a hesitant arm around her upper back and leaned into her, resting my cheek on the top of her head. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s me.”
She stepped back and drew a hand under her right eye, wiping away a tear. “Sorry for the third degree. It’s been a rough six weeks.”
“Six weeks.” I shook my head, still in disbelief. “That’s still hard to believe. It’s only been a few days for me.”
“Two days?” Emma sniffled and turned away. “Lazarus, where have you been? I thought…” She blew out a deep breath and turned back around. “I pulled the traffic cams and tracked you as far as the docks the night of the storm. The yacht you got onto? Divers found the wreckage a couple miles offshore. Bodies on board, ripped to hell. Looked like a bomb went off. And after that, there were these kids, and everything went all Stranger Things for a while. I really could’ve used your help with that.”
“Emma, slow down.” I put my hands on her shoulders.
She winced and pulled away.
“Sorry. Collarbone?”
“It’s almost healed,” she said. “Two more weeks.”
I couldn’t stop staring at the cast on her arm. Signatures wrapped all around it like she was some five-year-old who’d fallen off her bike. I bet the guys at the station were having a lot of fun at her expense. What if the Archon had decided to break her spine instead of her arm? Or her neck?
“I’m sorry you got hurt because of me. I shouldn’t have pulled you into that. It wasn’t your fight.”
She made an irritated face. “You didn’t. I could’ve walked. I came that night because you asked me to. If I had the chance to do it all again, the only thing I would’ve done differently was bring a bigger gun.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Emma was a good person. The best, really. She deserved so much more than what she had. “Moses?”
She snorted. “That idiot. One bump on the head and he gets desk duty for six months. They tried to do that to me, too. Good thing my middle fingers weren’t broken. I used ’em both.” She turned away, focusing on the bloodstains on the table. “I…I had to turn in my badge and gun.”
“What?”
“Not permanently. I’ve just been dealing with some shit. All this…” She gestured to the room at large. “It’s a lot to take in. People sort of look at you funny when your official statement includes zombies, ghosts, and necromancers. I’ll get back to it. When I’m up to it.”
A burning sensation on my arm drew my attention. The eleven that had been branded there changed to a twelve. Shit, we were running out of time. If I didn’t hurry it up in there, Beth would be coming in after me.
“So,” I said, drawing out the vowel. “Since you’re not a cop right now, why are you in my office? Breaking and entering?”
She gave me a sheepish look. “I just thought maybe I could find something here that would help. Maybe there’d be some sign you were okay and just dodging me. You were, weren’t you?”
I shook my head. “I’ve been in Faerie. I’ve got to get back before dawn.”
Emma stared at me, waiting for me to explain further.
I didn’t know what else to say or how to say it. As much as I needed her help, I couldn’t ask. She’d needed mine, and I hadn’t been there for her. If I didn’t give her something though she’d just keep tearing herself up over her inability to fix things. That’s how Emma was. She was a fixer by nature, a control freak. Whenever she encountered something she didn’t know how to fix, she didn’t walk away; she just buckled down until she figured it out. It was both her best and worst feature.
“The last time you saw me, something bad had happened.”
I rolled my sleeve up. The place where the ghoul had bitten me was still red and swollen. Black lines flowed out from the scabs like tentacles.
“Jesus, Laz.” Emma gently touched the bite. “What is it?”
“Ghoul took a bite out of me. I contracted the virus.”
Emma withdrew her hand and looked at me, wide-eyed.
“It’s not contagious by touch,” I explained. “You can’t get it. As far as I know, it won’t be transmittable at all until my body finally stops fighting and I become like them.”
Resolve washed over her face. Her posture straightened, and she became a cop again. Maybe not officially, but she stood like one. “What do you need me to do?”
“What do I need?” I shook my head. Of course that’s what she’d say, the absolute opposite of what she should’ve said. Leave it to Emma Knight to run toward the thing that was destroying her life. “Emma, I need you to steer clear of this. Of me. Of everything. Go back to work. Go on dates. Smile and forget me.”
“I don’t think I can do that.” Her usually fierce, hard eyes met mine. She seemed different. Haunted.
I had done that to her. My fault. It tore me up inside to acknowledge that.
“I know things now, things I can’t forget, Laz. I’ve seen you do things I thought were impossible. Six weeks ago, I stood right here in this office with you and watched you bring something back from the dead. Everything I thought I knew about the way the world worked is wrong. You can’t just expect me to walk away from that. From you.”
I sighed and looked away, my eyes falling on the battered desk. The key to Odette’s apartment was in the top drawer. Once, I’d felt the same way about Odette. I couldn’t walk away from her. My reasons were different but no less powerful. Once you get a taste of something that far outside of your experience, nothing else will compare. My love for Odette had been like having heroin in my veins. It killed me. I needed it. I hated it. The supernatural would be that way for Emma. It would destroy her. She had to get out before she got too deep.
For her own good, I had to force the issue, even if it hurt.
“You can’t help me,” I said and paced over to my desk. The top drawer resisted being pulled open; I yanked it so hard, I pulled the knob free.
“You don’t mean you’re just going to let this virus warp you? Or that you’re going to go hide in Faerie forever?”
I grabbed my staff and pushed the drawer back in with a bang that made Emma jump. “What I do or don’t do doesn’t concern you.”
Emma’s mouth fell open. “What?”
“I came here in a stolen truck, so I could get this.” I raised the key. “I’m going to use it to break into Odette’s old apartment in hopes that all her shit is still there. If it isn’t, I’m going to have to rough up the super of the building to find out where he sent her stuff. In addition to finding what I’m looking for, I’ve got to call a succubus and an Archon and see how their pet project is going. I’m not back to catch up. I’m here on a crime spree and to collude with bad guys I’m sure you’d rather arrest than assist. And that’s a best-case scenario. I’m not a good person, Emma. I’m a thief and a criminal. It’s best if you just stay away from me.”
I stormed past her. She followed me with her body, turning to watch me weave my path through that back room, but she didn’t follow.
My hand closed on the doorknob and I paused, wondering if I’d made the right choice. I didn’t want to walk out that door and leave her behind, hurting, in pain, alone and confused. I wanted to sit her down and pull away the ghosts of guilt weighing down her soul so she’d be free and happy. I wanted to pull her to me and hold her as she unloaded everything, all the bad shit that was my fault, her fault, everyone’s fault, and afterward buy her a coffee with lots of sugar to cheer her up.
But I couldn’t. Doing any of those things would just keep her close where she’d be hurt again because of me. Because of what I’d become. I was helpless to help her without hurting her and it pissed me off, maybe more than anything ever had before.
The door banged against the wall when I pulled it open to return to the truck. I didn’t even bother to close it behind me. Fuck my office. Pony was right. I’d never helped anyone reading cards and telling fortunes. The best thing I could do for the world, and for myself, was disappear.
“What’s wrong?” Beth asked as I climbed into the passenger seat. She’d slid over to drive.
“Nothing,” I snapped and tucked my head. “Let’s go.”
“Did something happen?”
“I said let’s go. Take the fucking parking brake off and go!”
Beth hesitated a minute and then did as I said.
I crossed my arms and settled into the seat without buckling up. All I could think about was the pain in Emma’s face as I stormed past. It lit a flame in my chest that burned with all the fury of a dozen dying suns.
“Turn at the next intersection.”
Beth frowned. “But you said Odette’s apartment was on Annunciation Street. This will take us north.”
“We’re not going straight to Odette’s,” I growled. “We’re going to Odd Fellows. I’ve got a bone to pick with the ghoul king.”
Beth took the turn.
Chapter Thirteen
Twenty minutes later, Beth and I stood inside the gates of Odd Fellows’ Rest, escorted by two ghouls wearing sunglasses and nothing else. The ghouls moved with a sort of slouched hop-crawl that seemed more chimp-like than anything. Seeing their naked, hairless bodies made me itch. I hadn’t started to lose my hair yet, but the knowledge that I would made me uneasy.
So far, we’d made no progress toward a cure. Morningstar had said he’d have Khaleda working on one, but I hadn’t heard from her or the devil himself. He’d also hinted that The Baron might be interested in developing a cure. He was MIA, as usual. I’d learned pretty quickly not to expect any help or guidance from the guy who named me the Pale Horseman. Baron Samedi was a hands-off kind of guy.
Beth leaned in close. “What exactly do you hope to gain from talking to this ghoul king?”
“Insight,” I answered without bothering to whisper. The ghouls’ bat ears would pick up everything we said anyway. No need to try and subvert that. “Last time I spoke to Serkan, he said he’d made all these ghouls. I don’t know a lot about ghouls aside from the fact that they’re blind during the day and eat dead bodies. I figure if anyone knows how this virus works, it’s a guy who claims to have made some.”
“I don’t think a typical anti-viral will work, Laz.”
“No, probably not. I’m not even sure a virus is the right word for it.”
Beth tilted her head to the side the way she did when she recalled some rarely accessed memory. “Viruses are alive, you know. In a manner of speaking. Maybe what we’re dealing with here is a sort of magic virus. I mean, it behaves like one except that it alters the entire body. It’s possible that a sort of magic-infused anti-viral would work, but it would kill indiscriminately.”
I eyed her and narrowly avoided tripping over a broken headstone. “Meaning?”
“Meaning it might also attack healthy magic. You could lose your powers, Laz. All of them.”
I quickened my pace to catch up with the ghouls. Would that be such a bad thing? The Horseman gig had given me no end of problems. Ever since I was a kid, the only thing I could remember wanting was a normal life. Life without magic. I’d made the most of things by using my powers to help people where I could, but overall, I’d made very little difference in the world. One man couldn’t change enough by himself, even if he was one of the four horsemen. If I could give up my powers and have a chance at a normal life, why not?
I looked down at the glowing staff in my hand. It was emitting a pale green light that illuminated the air around it like a glow stick. Without my magic, I wouldn’t have been able to stop Vesta from killing all those women, or those Egyptian funerary deities from killing all the fae in New Orleans. The three kids I’d saved on the Archon’s yacht
would also be dead. Then again, I’d never have known about all of that without my powers. Maybe ignorance really was bliss.
I thought of Emma’s face as I left her standing, alone, in my office and it felt like someone had punched me in the gut all over again. Without magic, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Maybe I really was better off without my powers.
“You think you could make something like that?” I asked Beth as we stopped in front of the mausoleum fashioned to look like a palace.
She sighed. “It really depends on if it is a virus. You have to understand how viruses work. When they infect people, they enter a cell in the body and rapidly multiply by creating long strings of double-sided RNA. Basically, you either stop the virus from reproducing or make it reproduce incorrectly, which keeps it from infecting healthy host cells. Could be the ghoul virus is actually more similar to cancer because it changes the way your cells grow and work. In that case, the best thing you can do is kill the infected cells.”
“Like with magic chemo?” I frowned. That didn’t sound good.
Beth shrugged. “Just a theory. We’d need to take blood samples over time to know how the virus was progressing.”
“And we don’t have that kind of time.” I huffed out a breath and turned to the ghouls who had stopped outside the Palace of Bone. “Which is why we’re here to speak to Serkan.”
One of the ghouls gestured for us to go in.
“Uh-uh,” I said, shaking my head. “No way. Last time I went down there, he threatened to kill me, and I had to walk through corpse water. This time, Serkan comes to meet me on my turf.”
The ghouls exchanged glances from behind their sunglasses.
“Look, you can tell him to come here and chat with me, or I can have a talk with the city about getting some really bright lights installed here to keep prowlers out. Your call.”
