Unholy Spirit (The Necromancer's Daughter Book 3)
Page 9
"Well, call it what you will, but I have this awful feeling that Adam has been using his powers. You know, the powers he's not supposed to know he has."
Cal shot Edie a look. "That's not good news."
"Tell me about it," Basile mumbled. He sighed and reached for his empty mug, peering into it. "I'm gonna have to switch to gin."
Chapter Eight
Despite the fact that a blizzard in July had landed not even a full twenty-four hours ago, New York City carried on almost like nothing had happened. The rain had helped wash the worst of the snow away from the roads, and traffic and the subway system ran as normal. Still, as the group walked to the nearest subway station, they had to keep an eye out for ice; in the nearby park, a tree had come down, and a few streets over, some utility vehicles worked on a collapsed scaffold.
Edie, relieved to be of some help, happily took point when it came to navigating the subway. Cal had spent the last decade in Las Vegas, Satara had grown up in small towns, and as for Marius, it turned out when you could summon a horse made of sunlight at will, you didn't get much use out of the metro system. A long ride later, they arrived at the Church Av Station in Flatbush, Brooklyn.
The apartment building was old, brick, with an imposing stoop out front. The group forewent the front entrance, though—Basile had been very insistent that they use the apartment's back door so as not to draw attention to themselves, though what a New York City apartment was doing with a back door, Edie wasn't quite sure.
After a quick inspection of the alley leading to the rear of the building, she understood. A fenced gate separated them from a tiny back garden, with just enough space to put a couple of plastic chairs and a birdbath, both now heavy with snow. The garden apartment had a back door, as expected, but the apartment a floor above it did, too, with a fire escape leading down into the garden area.
"That must be what he was talking about," Edie mumbled, turning to the side slightly and pointing it out to the others. "He said something about us taking the fire escape up there."
Hooded by the fire escapes further up, the stairs were still mostly covered by a layer of fluffy snow. Things were stacked on the steps and the landing in front of the back door, but Edie couldn't make out what they were from this angle, this far away.
She looked down at the gate, which was fastened with a shiny combo padlock. When they had infiltrated the Temple of the Rising Divine, she’d used her death magic to rust a giant metal construct, but she wasn't sure if the same rules applied to a completely inanimate object. Best not to take chances and make herself look like an idiot when Marius could get them in guaranteed.
Cal seemed to have the same idea. "Hey, Sparky, you wanna do the honors?"
Marius paused for a moment before coming forward with a shrug and taking the padlock in his hand. The metal quickly turned a glowing white-gold in his palm, and within a few seconds, he was able to twist it off the latch and discard it.
He stepped through first, with Edie following close behind. Hopefully, whoever owned the garden apartment wouldn't notice someone had just broken into their yard.
As they approached the fire escape, Edie was finally able to make out what the strange shapes sitting on the steps were. She slowed, letting her eyes touch each one with growing confusion. A gallon of milk, a couple juice cartons, margarine, yogurt and pudding cups, various takeout containers ... shoved into a corner of the landing, two crisper drawers were stacked on top of each other, one of vegetables and the other of cheese and deli meat, covered in a snowy crust.
"Oookay," Cal said under his breath. "Any reason this guy's got his entire fridge on his back steps?"
"Maybe his power went out during the blizzard?" Satara suggested.
Edie left the others behind, avoiding the food as she crept up the fire escape herself. There was a window next to the back door, and though the blinds were closed, she could see light coming from the room beyond. "No, look—the lights are on. His fridge must be working."
She eyed the window for a moment before looking at the door. This was it; the moment of truth for whomever was on the other side of this thing. She was about to do what had been done for her when Cal had shown up in her apartment that first night—confirm the impossible. Change someone's life with just a few words.
In all honesty, she wasn't sure how to feel about it.
Focused so intently on the door, she felt rather than saw Satara come up and stand on the landing beside her. The shieldmaiden sighed, touching Edie's elbow briefly. "If the state of this fire escape is any indication, I think he's probably ... in distress."
Those words conjured images in Edie's mind of her own struggle coming into her powers. She had thought she was losing her mind. She'd have done anything to relieve herself of that feeling, to get an explanation. This was difficult, but necessary.
With new resolve, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
Nothing changed for a few long seconds. Then, Edie nearly jumped as one of the slats in the nearby window's blinds snapped open, then closed again before she could see who was there. She could hear things moving around inside the apartment, then another period of silence.
Finally, he opened the door.
It was only a bit. Only enough for her to see him, not into the apartment. Standing before her was a man in maybe his early forties with dark brown chin-length hair, pale skin, and an angular face with high cheekbones. His V-neck shirt revealed a labyrinth of black-ink tattoos that climbed down his neck and disappeared under the fabric, then reemerged on slightly muscular upper arms, the only remotely built part of his thin frame. The tattoos continued all the way down to his wrists, where he wore leather bands. As his eyes darted nervously from her to Satara, Edie noticed they were a peculiar shade of light hazel brown, with almost amethyst undertones.
She paused, certain that she knew his face from somewhere. But he wasn't in any state that she recognized. His red-and-purple-ringed eyes and pink nose led her to believe he'd been crying recently. Patchy stubble and a slouched posture spoke of a long night with little sleep. Loose strands of dark hair had sprung from his widow's peak, sticking to a waxy forehead.
Stronger than ever, that agitated, electric energy she'd been feeling since their arrival in New York vibrated across her skin and under her feet. Strange sense that she already knew this man aside, there was no denying that this was the hellerune they'd come here to meet.
He gave no indication that he recognized her, though she noticed his gaze lingering on her face and the hairs on his arms standing up. He frowned anxiously, a scar on his forehead deepening as he finally spoke. His soft voice was scratchy with stress. "Can I ... help you?"
His other hand shook as he braced it against the doorway, leaning slightly to get a better look at the people on the steps. When he saw Cal, he turned even paler—something Edie wouldn’t have thought possible—and closed the door slightly. Only a couple centimeters, but it didn't escape her notice. Something had scared him, but he couldn't possibly be seeing through Cal's glamour, could he?
Probably not, considering he looked more anxious than horrified. Edie wasn't sure what was going on, exactly, but Basile had been right. Something bad had happened.
"Hi," she finally said, trying to keep her tone light. "Um, I'm Edie, and this is Satara, and Cal and Marius. You're ... Adam, right?"
The man shuffled from foot to foot like he was ready to run at any moment. "Yeah … can I help you?" he repeated, even softer than the first time.
How did she put this, exactly? Her own wake-up call hadn't been gentle, so she was working from scratch here. "I, uh ... my friends and I are part of a ... group—"
Much to her relief, Satara cut in. But there was no getting around the truth, which sounded bonkers coming out of anyone. "We’re part of a group advocating for people with preternatural abilities. Supernatural beings. One of our agents advised us that there was someone here who needed our help, so we came to check up on you."
Unsurprising
ly, Adam simply stared at her, speechless.
"I know it sounds insane," the shieldmaiden continued, squinting at him. "But I suspect it doesn't sound as insane to you as it should. Am I right?"
After a pause, he shifted apprehensively. "I'm— Sorry, but I have no idea what you're talking about..."
"It's okay. We're here to help." Edie tried to look as open as possible. "Something happened, didn't it?"
Adam blanched again and moved to close the door.
Edie's pulse quickened, and she reached out, stopping him with a firm hand. "Please, I get it. But you're in danger. We're here to protect you."
That gave him pause; she could practically hear his thoughts just by watching his face. She'd had a lot of the same thoughts herself only a few months ago. He didn't quite believe them—what normal person would?—but he didn’t have much of a choice at this point. He must know something unnatural was going on. If he was going through anything like she had gone through, he'd take any help he could get.
He searched her eyes like he might be able to read her mind, and a surge of energy passed between them. For a moment, with the intensity of his gaze, she wondered if he actually was reading her mind.
Finally, he sighed, his face crumpling. He turned away and, as he did, managed to choke out, "Come in."
He disappeared into the apartment, leaving the door open behind him. Edie entered and found herself in an open kitchen-dining room combo with a hall directly to her right and a small living room on the far left, beyond the kitchen counters. There were more windows than she had expected, but all the blinds were shut. Something about the air wasn’t quite right either. Oppressive.
A chill went through her. This apartment felt like a tomb, dark and cold and silent.
Adam crossed to the little dining table, his back to Edie, and she couldn't help but notice how the kitchen lights dimmed the closer he got to them. As the others filed into the kitchen, he seemed to take a moment to pull himself together, running his hands down his face and through his hair.
By the time they were all in, Cal shutting the door behind them, he had turned around. "Okay," he said, voice a little less shaky now. "I let you in … but you're going to have to explain what's going on, because I ... I have no idea."
It was a pressing request, but Edie found it hard to focus on. She couldn't shake the feeling that she knew this man’s face, his voice. As she observed her surroundings, her gaze caught on something framed in the hall—a big poster featuring a stylized illustration of a man with patchwork skin, playing a horned electric guitar. The words DEATH BENEFITS were plastered across the poster in messy white writing.
With that, the pieces finally clicked together.
"DB..." she mumbled to herself. "Adam. Oh my god." As realization bloomed in her chest, she looked back at him. "You're Adam Frankenstein. The lead singer of Death Benefits."
She was aware that she sounded like a dork, but she wasn't sure what else to say. Along with the Dead Kennedys, the Misfits, Hüsker Dü, Siouxsie and the Banshees, and Skinny Puppy, Death Benefits had been in Richard Holloway's frequent rotation, and Edie had inherited his taste.
Even though it had been over ten years since the band had split up, DB always had a place in her Top Songs on Spotify. When she'd still been on social media, she'd even casually followed their lead singer's new career as a digital artist. He had always seemed really cool, even if he talked more about comic books and Dungeons & Dragons nowadays.
And now he was standing in front of her, trying not to weep.
To his credit, he seemed more perplexed than anything when she recognized him. A second later, he smiled uncertainly. "It’s just Einan, now, really. I haven't been Frankenstein in a long time."
"What … are you two talking about?" Marius asked, arms crossed uncomfortably.
"Death Benefits. They're— Well, they were a punk band. A little industrial..." Edie caught sight of another poster and drifted closer to get a better look. It was a picture of the band all together, autographed in silver marker under each of their faces. She leaned in and read the names, heart beating fast. "Mikey Mausoleum, Clottia Cumshot, Brian Brain Damage, Dead Thing— Oh my god." She turned to Adam. "My dad would've—"
"Holloway," Cal cut in sharply. "You can fangirl on your own time. We're on the clock here."
Adam flinched. "No ... no, it's okay. I just wasn't expecting one of you to recognize me." He cast a nervous look around the room, forcing a chuckle. "What are the odds?"
"I know, I can't believe it." Edie managed to refrain from going on, although her whole body tingled with excitement. She had no idea what to say to a person she admired so much, let alone someone who had turned out to be a hellerune like her. Maybe there was too much to say.
Her excitement slowly fizzled out, however. Beyond Basile's vague prediction that Adam had used the powers he wasn't supposed to know he had, something about this whole situation was off. For one thing, the apartment radiated death.
"Do you live all alone here?" she asked, peering around the kitchen.
Adam's breath caught, drawing her gaze back to him. He swallowed convulsively, and it took a moment before he could choke out, "Uh, yeah."
A lie, and a pretty blatant one at that. As Edie scanned the room, she noticed a backpack near the front door: holographic pink, covered in pastel patches, with the word Crybaby on the front panel.
Something told her it didn't belong to Adam. She looked back at him, trying to keep her tone gentle. "You don't have to lie to us. We're not here to get you in trouble. We wanna help, but … we can't unless you tell us what happened."
Those words seemed to strike a nerve. Her words hung in the air for a moment before he took a few dazed steps backward and collapsed into one of the dining chairs, face buried in his hands.
Muffled sobs filled the kitchen a second later, so sudden and violent that Edie was stunned into silence. Above his head, the already-dim kitchen light flickered before extinguishing completely.
Edie exchanged a look with the others before going to crouch in front of Adam. "Hey ... it's okay. Whatever happened, we can try and fix it. All right?"
From behind his hands, Adam loosed another sob. "You can't fix it. I couldn't. I killed her. Fuck me, I killed her..."
Who? If she remembered correctly, he had a daughter, although she knew absolutely nothing about her. That must be who the backpack belonged to. Dread crept up her back. "Don't worry about that right now. You need to calm down and tell us what happened, okay?"
Satara and Marius crept closer, the shieldmaiden pulling a chair up next to Adam. Marius lingered on his other side, looking up at the kitchen light. With a gesture, he replaced it with a ball of golden energy.
At length, Adam seemed to calm down, at least enough to form a coherent sentence.
"Elle. Ellie ... my stepdaughter. She— she's been having these headaches and nosebleeds lately, and she…. I don't know what happened. I made her take the trash out. There's a dumpster around the side of the building, so she usually uses the fire escape. She got dizzy or something ... it was icy. She— I— She fell. I went outside after her, and, and I tried to help her, but she..." His voice broke again, and he rubbed the butt of his palm against his forehead.
"It's okay." Edie took his free hand and squeezed. She had never seen a man older than her in such distress. If she was honest, it was kind of hard to watch. And even worse was the thought that, if his experience was anything like hers, he may have turned his own daughter into a revenant.
But if that was the case, where was she?
"How did you try to help her?"
"I ... I don't know. It's so fucking weird."
"I know."
He inhaled sharply. "I felt like ... like I could keep her from dying, if I tried. But I did it wrong. I couldn't save her. I made her take the trash out," he repeated miserably. "It was my fault."
"No one is to blame," Satara said softly from beside him.
"What happened next?" Cal pre
ssed, shuffling from foot to foot. Along their connection, Edie could feel how uncomfortable he was with this whole situation. Something about the way Adam was acting bothered him, but she couldn’t decipher what. It couldn’t be that he was crying—Cal wasn’t a big fan of emotion, but he wasn’t a monster.
The revenant's voice seemed to reach Adam well enough, though. He glanced nervously at Cal before bowing his head and continuing his story. "She ... she told me to keep her cold. In the fridge.”
Silence. The lot of them turned their heads to look at the fridge, which hummed innocently behind Cal. A shiver went through Edie. So that was why it felt like a tomb in here.
“I— I didn't know what else to do! I just ... panicked and did what she said!" Adam’s voice grew unsteady, on the verge of hysterics as he looked into each of their faces, expression begging for their understanding. "What else could I do? It was an accident; I'm not a murderer! I'd never hurt her, ever!"
"Wait," Marius said, brow furrowed. "What do you mean, she told you to put her body in the fridge? Did she not die?"
Adam tensed up at once, and Edie felt a faint pulse of energy pass through his hand and into hers. He swallowed, eyes wide, like he'd said something he hadn't meant to let slip. "I..."
Edie was as confused as Marius. Had whatever happened when Elle had died been so traumatic that he’d lost touch with reality, or what?
Thankfully, Satara seemed to pick up on what was going on. She tapped his elbow to draw his attention. "We don't doubt you heard her voice, Adam. But we need to know where it came from. Was her body speaking to you? Was she animated?"
"No," he said softly. "She was ... dead."
"Did she move?"
"No. God, no."
He hadn't raised her from the dead, then. Good thing, too, since he’d have to leech someone else's life force to create a revenant. They didn’t need another dead body on their hands. But then what the hell was going on?
"Okay," Satara said slowly. "Where do you hear her voice? Where does it come from?"
He sighed heavily, holding his forehead. "You're not going to believe me. It's ... batshit insane."