Death And Darkness

by E. A. Copen

  I shook my head. “That’s not me. I’m not a killer by choice. Not like you.”

  “But I am you.” He shrugged. “I’m made from your DNA. My memories are yours. The only difference is I’m not a whiny little bitch like you. There’s a reason women run away from you, Lazarus. Girls don’t like a nice guy. They want an asshole.”

  “Explains why you’re still single,” I grumbled. “What is it you want from me?”

  He stepped forward and picked some lint off my shirt, rolling it between his fingers. “What I want is power, and you’re in the way of that. You see, if there are two of us, you’re going to keep trying to kill me and undo all my hard work. I thought about killing you. Tried to a few times. Problem is, I’m not sure what will happen to the Horseman mantle when you die. Right now, you and I are evenly matched. We both have the same powers, including the Horseman gig. Kill you?” He shrugged again.

  How was that possible? There was only one Pale Horseman mantle. We couldn’t both have the title. Then again, there shouldn’t have been two of me either. The whole world had gone screwy. I no longer knew the rules, which put me at a definite disadvantage.

  Bizarro Laz paced away and picked up a small, decorative box sitting on the dresser. “Can’t kill you, but I can’t let you screw things up for me either. So, here’s my offer. I’ll give you until midnight to leave town. I don’t care where you go or what you do, so long as you leave Louisiana. Forever. And don’t try to contact anyone from your former life. Not your daughter, not Emma, Moses, Josiah… None of them. You contact them, they die.”

  I crossed my arms. “You know I’m not going to take that deal.”

  “True.” He nodded. “Just like I know you’re thinking you can confront me at the revel and free your daughter, maybe even kill Titania. Who’d you get to help you? The Winter Knight? What kind of deal did you cut with that bitch, huh? Too bad she’s going to betray you.”

  “She’s fae. Of course, she’s going to betray me. But not until after she gets what she wants, which isn’t going to happen until after I get what I want. That’s how deals work, asshole.”

  He placed the box back on the dresser and turned around. “Well, just in case, you might want to consider a counter-offer. While you’ve been so focused on saving your daughter, you’ve left someone else unprotected. Someone dear to you. Someone my zombies had almost no trouble apprehending and delivering to Loki.”

  My blood ran ice-cold. “Emma. What does Loki want with Emma?”

  My fetch smirked. “I suppose you won’t know if you don’t break into his masquerade ball and rescue her since that’ll be the only time you’ll be able to get to her. It just so happens Loki is holding his ball at the exact same time as Titania on the opposite side of town. Pity you won’t be able to save them both. At the stroke of midnight, Emma will be beyond saving.”

  “You son of a bitch!” I surged toward him, swinging the metal pipe at his head.

  Bizarro Laz caught it with ease and held it, smirking at me while his hands steamed.

  I tried to push harder, but it was no use. He might’ve shared DNA with me, but he was stronger than me. “What’s he going to do to her?”

  “I told you. If I can’t have her, no one can. No mortal man anyway. At midnight, she’ll belong to Loki, and there will be nothing you can do to undo that spell.” He pushed the pipe away and tried to hide his palms, but he wasn’t fast enough. They were bright red and blistered. The iron of the pipe had burned the hell out of him.

  Not so unbeatable now, are you, asshole?

  He put his burned hand on the doorknob and pulled the door open. “I’m taking over your life, Lazarus. Everything you’ve got belongs to me now. And if I can’t have it, no one will. Think carefully about your next moves. And good luck.”

  I waited until I heard the outside door to the apartment shut before letting the tension out of my shoulders. Then I went to lock the door behind him. It wouldn’t keep him out if he wanted to come back in and finish me, but it made me feel a little better.

  Loki had Emma. Why? What did he want with her? Me, probably. He knew she was the one person I would come for. I’d gone to Hell for her. I’d almost certainly go across town to save her. Except if I had to choose between saving Emma and saving Remy. But how could I make that choice?

  He could be lying. I affixed the chain lock too, just in case. I had no proof that Loki had Emma, and that kind of lie might be enough to make me reconsider my plan of action. But why would he lie? What reason did he have for not just handing Emma over to Loki? My fetch was a cold-hearted asshole who had no qualms about sacrificing the lives of others to get what he wanted. The only way I would know for certain would be to go to Loki’s masquerade instead of Titania’s. There was no way I could get to both, but maybe I didn’t have to.

  I walked over to where a cordless phone hung on the wall and punched in a number.

  He picked up on the second ring. “Thought I told you not to call me on this line, mate.”

  “How’d you know it was me?”

  “You know anyone else who’d stay in that shithole above Paula’s?”

  Point for Josiah. It wasn’t exactly a popular destination. “I’ve got a problem. I think Loki has Emma.”

  “Then go get her back,” he growled. “That’s not my problem. I’m a little busy.”

  “Wait, don’t hang up!”

  He sighed into the receiver but didn’t hang up.

  “I can’t go get her. If she’s there, she’s likely being held under guard, and Loki’s Valkyries are no pushovers. I also don’t know where he’s hiding out. I know he’s having a masquerade tomorrow night, and if I don’t get to her by midnight, there’s some sort of spell that… Well, my fetch said she’d belong to Loki.”

  “Belong to Loki? What does that mean?”

  “No clue,” I said, putting my back to the wall. “The problem is, Loki and Titania are having their masquerades at the exact same time on opposite ends of the city. Even if I left one to get to the other, it’s Mardi Gras. Traffic’s going to be a bitch. Half the roads are closed.”

  Josiah was silent for a long moment. “I know of a way you can get from one to the other, but it’s tricky. That type of magic can backfire, Lazarus. Easily.”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of enlisting help. Splitting up. I can get to Remy. I’d just need you to go to Loki’s and get Emma.”

  “No,” he said firmly. “I can’t go anywhere near there. That place will be crawling with angels, every one of which wants to kill me. Unlike the fae, they won’t care about any neutral ground pact. Fuck me, Loki will likely just turn away and let them do as they please with me. I’m not going there.”

  “I thought you were working for the angels?” He’d said he was working for some organization known as Manus Dei—God’s Hand—anyway, and that angels were in charge of it. That made them allies, right? Uneasy allies maybe, but they wouldn’t kill an ally.

  “Some angels,” Josiah clarified. “And if they even suspect I’m there to cause trouble, that deal will be off. I like you, Laz, and I feel for ya, but I can’t do this. It’d be suicide and if I die…”

  If he died, we’d be royally screwed. The only way to make this work would be to do whatever spell Josiah had mentioned earlier. It was a long shot and dangerous, but it was all I had. “Whatever it is you need me to do, I’ll do it. I can’t choose between Remy and Emma, Josiah. I have to save them both.”

  He sighed. “You’re an idiot, and you’re probably going to fail. You know this?”

  “I have to try. It’s not in me not to.” I waited for Josiah to say something. I already knew what he thought of my decision to try and save everyone. He’d told me as much before. This was the price I paid for keeping people close, apparently a decision he disagreed with. For good reason, probably. But it was too late to do anything about it now.

  Even when people tried to walk out of my life, they got pulled back in. Beth had almost gotten out before
I screwed up. Now she was barely a shadow of her former self. I couldn’t let that happen to Emma, not any more than I could let Titania keep my little girl.

  “Fine,” Josiah said at length. “I’ll teach you the spell. But you’ve got to swear this is a one-time thing. You can’t be calling me every time you need to get somewhere fast. Understand?”

  “Got it.”

  “Aces. I’ll be there first thing in the morning. Get some sleep before then. You’ll need to be at your best if this is going to work.” He hung up without saying goodbye.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sleep was impossible. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Loki might be doing to Emma, or what Titania might be doing to Remy. Maybe neither of them wanted me to come to their rescue. Emma had been disgusted with my choice to kill Hades, and Remy didn’t know me.

  No. Even if she were pissed at me, Emma would never voluntarily go work for Loki. She knew what he was up to, what he was capable of. No matter how pissed off she got, she always did what was right. Working for Loki would never be the right thing to do. That’s why she was angry at me to begin with.

  The bed squeaked as I rolled over to stare at the clock. It was just before five. If I fell asleep now, I might get an hour and a half of rest. I’d survived on less.

  Who am I kidding? I’m not getting any sleep tonight. I rolled onto my back and stared at the blackness of the ceiling. There was nothing to do but go over the plan in my head.

  Foxglove was supposed to be getting a message to the Winter Knight. She’d get me into Titania’s ball where I’d hopefully spot Remy and get her out without causing too much commotion. If Remy didn’t want to go with me, I could always use a knockout spell. Then all I’d have to do was keep her out until the ball was over. Once the threat had passed, we could all talk like rational people, and Remy could make an informed decision. I had to be sure she wasn’t making any decisions while under Titania’s thumb.

  Once I grabbed Remy and got clear of the ball, I’d use whatever spell Josiah was about to teach me to get across town and save Emma.

  Titania and Loki’s masquerades both started at eight—I’d looked it up on the internet. If I got to Titania’s right when it began and found Remy before ten, I’d still have two hours to get to Emma. That should be more than enough time to find her and free her.

  The plan had a lot of moving parts, but it wasn’t impossible. I was confident I could win.

  Then there was my fetch to deal with. He’d given me until midnight to get out of town too, something I had no intention of doing. He’d be waiting for me once I saved Emma. I had a weapon now, though. One I knew could hurt him.

  I glanced over at the pipe propped in the corner of the bedroom. Of course, he would react to anything with high iron content. He’d been constructed by a fae queen and belonged to the Summer Court. He was a creature of Faerie, which meant iron could harm him. I should’ve seen that before.

  Now that I knew how to hurt him, it was just a matter of getting close enough to do it. The iron would burn him, but I didn’t think it would kill him. For that, I’d need my good old-fashioned Horseman powers to rip out his soul. That or a really sharp knife. It would be weird, killing my own fetch, but I didn’t see any way around that either. He’d just keep coming at me until one of us was dead. Killing him was the only way to be sure.

  Again, though, I’d have to get close enough to do that. Considering my arsenal of spells, and that he’d likely have an army of zombies guarding him, that wouldn’t be easy. I’d faced worse odds though.

  Maybe I should practice a little, I thought, and sat up. Might as well since I’m not getting any sleep.

  I got out of bed and walked barefoot out to the living room, where I pushed the sofa and recliner against the wall to make room. Practice would be better if I had a sparring partner, but I wasn’t going to call anyone at that hour to come help. Josiah was the only one I knew who might take me up on the offer anyway, and he’d probably kick my ass. So, instead of forming a circle and practicing my useful combat magic, I figured I’d just go over the basics.

  Like any other skill, magic wasn’t something anyone could master overnight. I had trained with Pony for years to learn the few spells I knew, and I still didn’t consider myself a master of any of them. Before I was cracking open the ground or putting people to sleep, however, I had to master basic control of my own power. I had learned that with a simple sphere of light.

  At first, Pony constructed the glowing white ball of static energy. He’d hold it out to me and tell me to keep it steady. If the ball of energy dropped below a certain point, I’d get an electrical shock that stung like a bee sting. As I progressed over the years, the margin of error I was allowed shrank until I had to hold the ball steady or else get shot with a magical taser. Sometimes, he made me hold that ball in place for hours. He’d sit in his armchair and flip through channels, acting like he was ignoring me. But if I let that ball slip, he’d prove he wasn’t by telling me exactly what I did wrong. “Pay attention. Don’t slouch. Quit watching the TV.”

  I wove my hands in a circle, constructing the ball of energy for myself and wondered where he was. Was he still alive? The doctors had only given him four months to live when they found the cancer was back, and that had been almost five months ago. I hadn’t heard from him since I sent him to Oklahoma. There was a cancer treatment center there, best in the country. Even with the best treatment, though, luck wasn’t on his side. Not unless he cut another magical deal to keep himself alive.

  I extended the ball out in front of me, holding it at arm’s length and then pulled my hand out from under it, sliding it to the side. With my other hand out, placed on the opposite side, I tried to focus on keeping the ball from moving one way or the other. It pulled down, and I countered by adjusting the energy to keep it up. The ball pulled to the left, I pushed it right. It was delicate training. If I pushed too hard, the ball would exceed the parameters woven into the spell, and I’d get a fun shock of electricity. If I didn’t push enough, it’d go the other way and—you guessed it—I’d get shocked.

  It was supposed to teach patience, precision, and attention, all of which I would need if I was going to trade spells with my fetch. The one advantage I’d have over him was that I already knew how he’d fight me. He’d fight me just like I’d fight me, by trying to goad me into doing something stupid. I had to stay calm, keep alert, and not let my emotions get in the way of kicking his ass.

  The ball suddenly barreled hard to the right. I tried to correct it with equal force, pushing it to the left, but overcompensated. It slammed into my hand and sent a jolt of electricity coursing through my body that knocked me on my ass before winking out.

  Dammit, I thought, sitting there and trying to brush off the buzzing numbness of the aftershock, I’m going to need an edge.

  My mind went back to the soul I’d collected from Hades. In the past, I had eaten souls to up my magic game for a short time. God souls were like taking magical speed. That would definitely give me enough juice to take out Bizarro Laz.

  But it would also mean consuming the last remnants of a murdered friend. Doing so would make me truly despicable. Not only would I have killed Hades, but I’d have cannibalized his soul for my own purposes. No matter how noble that purpose was, that was inexcusable.

  Alternatively, I could get other souls. Graveyards were full of trapped souls, none particularly friendly. I might also be able to step into the After and convince a few to help me willingly, though that was a stretch. My problem was too personal for most of them to care.

  I sighed and rubbed my face. My fetch wouldn’t be against eating a bunch of souls to power up. He’d probably gobble down plenty of them before our fight. I figured that’s part of how he was making his zombies. He’d kidnap people, pull out their souls, and then zombify them. If I were evil, that was exactly what I would do. Waste not, want not.

  I shuddered at the thought.

  But if he was already powered up,
how was I supposed to beat him? At best, I could only hope to match his power by consuming souls of my own unless I devoured more of them than he had, and I had no idea how many he’d eaten. I could eat every lost soul in New Orleans and it still might not be enough.

  There had to be another way. Some way he wasn’t expecting. The only way to beat myself would be to do something so off the wall, I’d never think of it. But what?

  I tried to think of something. There were plenty of movies where people fought evil versions of themselves. How did they win? Usually, a friend stepped in. There was always that moment where the fake hero tried to convince the sidekick he was the real one, and the sidekick had to pick the right one to shoot. Well, I wasn’t facing something like that. My situation was more like…Ash in Army of Darkness. Yeah, he’d fought himself and won by shooting his evil self in the face when the opportunity presented itself.

  I didn’t have a gun. Hell, I’d be lucky if I had my pipe when he came after me. He knew I had it now and knew it would hurt him. He’d be counting on me to use it.

  But what if I don’t? I grunted and pushed off the ground to go collect the pipe from the bedroom. My one weapon against the evil fae version of me. How could I not take it with me? It was a crazy idea, totally counterintuitive. I smiled as the details of the plan formed in my head. And exactly the kind of thing my fetch would never expect me to do.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Josiah knocked on the door to the apartment twenty minutes after seven. I knew it was him before I opened the door because he pounded three times and shouted, “Oi, fuckwit. It’s me.”

  I opened the door and he charged in, canvas bag in hand, cigarette leaving a trail of smoke behind him as if he were a train.

  He marched to the center of the living room, set down his bag and pinched his cigarette between two fingers, drawing it out of his mouth. “Here’s the thing. I’m not supposed to know this magic.”