by E. A. Copen
“Don’t make me do this. Fight it. You can beat this.” Breath tickled my face.
I fought to open my eyes, but something held them closed. I couldn’t move. Remy. Where was Remy?
“You can fight it.”
My arms ached and my chest felt like it was on fire. I swore I could feel them moving without any guidance from me.
“Tick-tock, Ms. Knight. A price must be paid.” Morningstar. That jackass couldn’t even let me die in peace.
Except I wasn’t dying. I was changing, becoming a ghoul. The battle had taken too long, and now, there was no saving me.
Images and sensations ran through my brain at breakneck speed. Needles. Medical bags of fluid. Fingers that looked too much like mine wrapping around Emma’s neck. They caught the amber necklace and broke it.
“Sedate him!”
“We’re losing him.”
“You need to make a choice now, or I’m making it for you.”
“Is he aware?”
“With that much diazepam in his system? Not likely.”
Warm, full lips brushed against mine. “You once saved me with a kiss. Now we’re even.”
My eyes snapped open and I found myself staring at an empty white ceiling choking on the tube down my throat. Something mechanical screeched next to my head, prompting two people in blue scrubs to run into the room. Hospital. I was in a hospital.
“Relax,” said the dark-skinned nurse who was adjusting something behind me. “We’ll get you sedated and get those right out of you.”
No. No sedation. I needed to see Remy and Emma right that second. But with the tube down my throat, I couldn’t speak and I was already tired.
The next time I woke up, I was in a different room dressed in one of those embarrassing hospital gowns, watching The Princess Bride on a tiny TV. It was the scene on the hill and Westley, having rescued Buttercup, was still pretending to be the Dread Pirate Roberts. The conversation was among the cruelest in the film, but a necessary test of Buttercup’s loyalty as far as Westley was concerned. She’d pledged her love to him, after all, and then turned around and agreed to marry Humperdinck.
Sometimes, love was like that. The people you love hurt you, and you hurt them. Life was just one long series of days spent exposing wounds in search of the one person who’d kiss your scars instead of tearing them open again. Love wasn’t rolling down that hill, crying back to the person who’d pushed you, “As you wish” on your way down. It was diving headlong after the idiot you’d just pushed because it was better to be idiots together than alone.
I was getting philosophical in my old age. Or maybe that was the drugs. Hospitals have good drugs.
At some point, I must’ve started quoting lines along with the movie, because I distinctly heard myself muttering about ROUSes.
“Lazarus?”
I turned my head to find Emma next to me. Her arm was still in the sling.
My voice was raw as I croaked out, “I didn’t know you liked this movie.”
Emma grinned. “I’ve never seen it before.”
If I hadn’t been doped up on hospital pain meds, I’d have jumped out of bed. “What? How?”
“I guess I just never considered myself into fantasy. Beth thought it would help. She said it was familiar.” Her smile faded and her eyes suddenly looked wet. She looked down, cleared her throat, and when she lifted her head every sign of the tears was already gone. “I met your daughter. She’s wonderful.”
“Remy.” I jerked forward and winced when I felt the pull of an IV. “Where is she? Did she get out of Faerie?”
“I…Lazarus, I’m not sure how to explain everything that happened. I got a call from Nate who said he’d spoken to…a tree? It was all very confusing.”
“I’ll fill in the blanks for you later.”
She nodded. “They found you outside a funeral home like you’d been dumped. Morningstar got to you before the ambulance.”
I made a fist and released it when I felt resistance from another IV. God, how many of those things had they shoved in me? “He had some kind of cure?”
“Kind of. Sort of? He said you’d turned him down and that there was nothing he could do.”
“What about Titania?” She owed me for saving Summer. “Did she help?”
Emma shook her head. “I don’t know anything about that. All I know is that Morningstar said he could help. He had you moved from East Hospital here to Oschner. He handpicked your physicians and restricted access for days. It was touch and go for a while. They said you were malnourished and your organs were shutting down. And then…”
“And then what?” I could tell she was avoiding talking about something, I just didn’t know what.
She shrugged. “And then you were better.”
I frowned. Emma was definitely withholding information. “Emma, people don’t just get better from becoming a ghoul.”
She stood, pacing. “I don’t know what to tell you, Laz. You were dying, and then you weren’t, and now you’re back.”
I watched her go to the window and stare out. The sun touched her face and lit up the contours of her cheekbones.
“While I was out, I could’ve sworn I heard Morningstar talking to you about making a decision.”
I watched her expression for any sign I was right, but she didn’t budge.
Emma turned away from the window. “Must’ve been a dream.”
I wanted to press her further because I knew there had to be more to it, but it could wait. I was here, alive, and not a ghoul. Emma was alive, Remy was alive, and everything had sort of worked itself out. I needed to learn to appreciate the moments. Life was made of moments, after all.
“I’d like to see her. Remy,” I said. “Where is she?”
Emma gave a tight-lipped smile. “Moses and his niece have her in the playroom. Morningstar made a point of having her checked over, Lazarus. You should know she’s healthy and perfect in every way. She’s a good baby. And you’ll be a good dad.”
My throat suddenly felt like that tube had been left in it. I swallowed. “Thanks.”
She nodded. “Oh, I almost forgot.” Emma went back to the chair and lifted a black leather purse into her lap, digging through it. After a minute, she produced a white envelope with my name written on the outside. “A young man showed up and asked me to give this to you. Handsome fellow. Three scars on his face. Pointed ears?”
“Declan,” I said taking the envelope. “Good kid.” At least he’d cared enough to write me a letter. There was some solace in that. “Thanks.”
Emma lifted her purse onto her shoulder. “Don’t mention it. Call me when they discharge you.”
I waited until after Emma had left to open the envelope. Folded inside were two pages of a handwritten note in neat cursive.
Dear Lazarus,
Her Majesty has instructed me to inform you that you are no longer the Summer Knight. Shortly after the battle, our glorious queen emerged and reclaimed the mantle to bestow it on William with honors for his role in advising your battle strategy. She thanks you for your service and bids you return once you are well to beg a boon so that the debt Summer owes you may be repaid.
The queen also wishes to inform you of her intent not to pursue her granddaughter. She has no doubts Remy will be happy and safe with you on Earth. Should you need any instruction or assistance, please do not hesitate to make a formal inquiry via the appropriate channels.
Sincerely,
Declan Marigold
In Service To Our Queen, Titania
In other words, don’t call her. She’ll call me. And if I brought Remy back to Summer, there’d be trouble. At least Titania was giving me some credit, believing I was smart enough to read between the lines.
The second page was another letter in much messier handwriting.
Dear Sir,
Sorry about the last letter. She made me write it that way. It wasn’t right, how she treated you after all you did for us. You saved Summer, and you were good to
me. If ever Athdar, William, or I can help, please ask. You deserved better.
I thought you would like to know that Prince Roshan survived his injuries and has returned to the Court of Light to recover. He extended the same offer. Should you have need of a fire-breathing dragon, or have a few extra cakes lying around, give him a call. I recommend not feeding him any more cake.
After you left, I thought I would be demoted from the rank of squire, but William has taken me on. He’s not as funny as you, but he is brave and says he’s never lost a duel. He also makes me run until I throw up. I don’t like it, but I like to think that one day I could serve as the Summer Knight when he retires and do half as well as you.
Oh, you should also know that Shadow has agreed to a truce to discuss terms of surrender. It’s not peace, not yet, but it’s certainly a step in the right direction.
Odette’s funeral was today, and it was a solemn event for all. When Titania isn’t looking, I’ll do my best to collect her ashes and send them to you. Remy should have something of her mother’s close by.
Finally, Athdar wanted me to give you a gift. It was too big to fit in the envelope so I’ve had it enchanted to follow you. He says it isn’t much, but he hopes you’ll find it useful in the future, especially should you need to speak to any oak trees.
It was an honor and a privilege to serve as your squire, sir. Thank you for everything.
Sincerely,
Declan
I smiled and folded the letters together. Good kid, Declan.
Something hard suddenly smacked me in the head. I let out a curse and grabbed for it only to find it was an ugly tree branch. What the hell was that doing in a hospital room? I gripped it with both hands and lowered it to my lap. Green runes glowed under my hand. A staff. Athdar and given me a new staff. It wasn’t as nice as the Summer Knight staff, but it was way better than my last one.
Once I got out of that hospital bed, I was going to use it to smack the crap out of Morningstar and find out what the hell he’d cornered Emma into doing to save me. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good, especially if she didn’t want to talk about it. When I found out what he had on her, I’d make him give it up, or I’d beat his average little face in. I was a killer of gods and fae monarchs. I was pretty sure I could take him.
***
Three days later, I was discharged from the hospital. I sat in the billing office to check on the billing since I had no insurance, Remy tucked into the car seat Moses’ niece had loaned me. Though it was a warm July day, I’d bought a cute little pink hat from the gift shop and wrestled it onto her head. She hated it, as evidenced by all the spit bubbles she was blowing, but she hated the pink mittens even more. If she hadn’t grown fingernails like a weed and started scratching her face, I wouldn’t have had to put them on her. Protecting kids from themselves starts early, I guess.
The billing specialist stepped out of her office with two pages stapled together. That wasn’t right. With my eight-day stay in the ICU, I should’ve had a big, fat bill. She smiled at me and offered me the papers.
“You’re all set.”
“What about the bill?”
If her smile got any wider, it’d split her face. “Taken care of by an anonymous donor.”
Morningstar. Probably trying to get back on my good side. Guess he didn’t take the hint. I don’t have a good side when it comes to the devil.
I thanked the billing specialist and limped down the hall toward the exit with the car seat in hand.
Emma’s Escalade waited in the patient pick-up and drop-off zone. She hopped out and helped me figure out how a regular seatbelt was supposed to secure an infant car seat. Though she showed me twice, I still didn’t get it. Whatever she did, it looked like magic, and I should know. I’m a necromancer, after all.
I had lost all my Summer Knight powers, though, along with the cool stick that came with it. Titania must’ve retrieved my mantle on my way out before kicking me through the portal to change. Bitch. She hid while I saved her kingdom, and then she kicked me to the curb without a second thought. That was Faerie for you, though.
“So,” I said, wincing as I drew the belt across my chest to buckle in, “you back on duty yet?”
“Not yet,” Emma said and started the car. “You know if I go back now, it’ll still be light duty. I’ve got this thing on my arm for another week yet. I plan to use every day of that week sitting on my ass. I’m pooped.”
I grimaced. “Sorry for pulling you into all this.”
“Laz, you didn’t pull me into anything. I came because I—” She stopped herself short and snapped her mouth closed.
I tilted my head to the side, staring at her. “You what?”
“Nothing. It’s just what people do for other people they care about.”
I turned to face forward in my seat. Emma had just admitted she cared. That was a first. The memory of the kiss I had dreamed up came back to me, and I wondered if maybe it wasn’t more than just a dream. Only one way to know for sure.
“You know, we’re still not technically even. I’m a much better kisser than you.”
Emma gave me a horrified look, her jaw hanging open and eyes huge.
“The road, Emma!”
She cursed and hit the brakes just in time to avoid hitting another car.
“Hey, language. There’s a kid in the car, you know.”
Emma’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel and spoke through gritted teeth. “They said you were unconscious.”
I smirked. “No need to be embarrassed. Good kissing takes practice, and I’m happy to give lessons.”
Emma twisted toward me. “You—” For the second time, her mouth snapped shut as she processed what I’d said.
A horn blared behind us. The noise woke Remy from her nap and she began to fuss.
Emma slowly turned back to the road and eased onto the gas. “I must be outta my goddamn mind.”
“Language, Detective. And turn here.”
Emma’s black Escalade pulled up in front of a tiny two-bedroom home in Algiers where an old man was outside in a stained t-shirt, suspenders, and a watering can, trying to bring his lawn back to life. Pony put the watering can down, stood up and stretched his lower back.
“You sure this is what you want to do?” Emma asked, watching him.
“After everything that just happened with the Shadow Court, I can’t go back to Paula’s. She’s a good woman, but she’s Shadow fae. I can’t ask her to hide me from her own people if they decide they want revenge. Besides, Pony’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a decent father figure. Someone’s got to teach me how to do this.”
Emma rolled her head toward me and gave me a skeptical look. “And you think a thrice-divorced womanizing con-man can do the job?”
“Relax. He raised me, and I turned out okay.” I opened my door.
“That’s debatable,” Emma muttered. She waited for me to duck into the back to undo the seatbelt and lift up the car seat to continue. “So, we’re still on for dinner, right?”
I flashed her my best roguish grin. “Of course. You pick the venue. I empty my wallet.”
“Cool,” Emma said, nodding. She seemed distracted, but then again, a lot had happened over the last few weeks. Her whole world had changed. I couldn’t fault her for being a little distracted. “Pick you up at seven Friday night.”
“See you then.” I retrieved my daughter from the Escalade and stepped back, watching it speed off. There was a horrible sinking feeling in my gut that something was wrong with her and I’d somehow missed it. I dismissed it as paranoia and leaned down to check on Remy. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s go introduce you to Grandpa.”
Pony folded his arms and grunted at me as I came up the walk. “You’re late.”
“Sorry.” I lifted the car seat. “Can I keep her?”
Pony’s eyes narrowed at the infant blowing bubbles in the car seat. “You’re cleaning up after her. And I ain’t no babysitting service. Don’t you go off and
disappear wherever you please without warning.”
I drew an X across my chest. “Scout’s honor.”
Pony grunted again. “There’s pizza on the table. You look like you haven’t eaten in ages.”
“Thanks, Pony. I’m starving.”
I carried my daughter through the front door and stopped to take in the pile of dirty dishes, the half-inch of dust on the little ceramic figurines in the window, and Miss July 1966 hanging on the wall. The air still smelled like old magic and shoe polish.
I sighed. “It’s good to finally be home.”
THE END
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A Special Preview of Death Match, Book 5 of The Lazarus Codex
Gods run when a Horseman goes to war.
Since being drafted into a position as the Pale Horseman, Lazarus Kerrigan has killed his fair share of gods and monsters. In New Orleans, a city steeped in voodoo and the supernatural, that’s saying something.
But when someone else starts killing gods in his city, he takes it personally. His search for the killer leads him to a deadly no holds barred tournament run by the gods themselves. The prize? The right to name the next Black Horseman, Famine. To find the killer, he’ll have to enter the tournament and fight gods, monsters, and other Horsemen to eliminate his suspects one by one.
