Night Terror (The Lazarus Codex Book 7)

by E. A. Copen

  “Couple of energy drinks deep and wired. Airport traffic sucks.”

  I shrugged. “Put your siren on.”

  “You know I can’t do that unless there’s an emergency.”

  “It is an emergency. You’ve got better things to do on your day off than sit at an airport terminal. Like drive over here and frisk me.”

  She laughed. “You’re a terrible influence, you know that?”

  “Practically criminal. See? Now you have to arrest me. My cuffs or yours?”

  “And that’s why I don’t put you on speaker phone.” She sighed. “Listen, I just got back. Wanted to see where you wanted me to meet you so I could drop off this fussy cupcake of yours.”

  I frowned and walked around the front of the car. “She didn’t take a nap again?”

  “Not a wink.”

  “I’ll just come over there and pick her up, so you don’t have to go out.” I pulled the car door open and slid into the driver’s seat.

  “Oh, maybe that’s not such a great idea.”

  Her family is already there, I realized. She hadn’t wanted to introduce me until the big dinner, but I was actually hoping to sneak in and meet them beforehand, so I’d know what to expect. “If you don’t want your family to meet me, that’s fine, Emma. I’m not trying to pressure you into this. I told you Remy and me can do Thanksgiving on our own.”

  “It’s not that. It’s…” She trailed off. “Look, it’s not just my mom and dad. My big brother is here, and so is my grandma. I wasn’t expecting to put up the whole Knight clan in my tiny two-bedroom house. It’s crowded, is all, and everyone’s tired from the flight.”

  “And you’re tired from not sleeping,” I pointed out. “You sound exhausted. You shouldn’t be on the road, especially with Remy. Let me come and get her. I’ll be quick. No one’ll even know I’m there. And if it doesn’t go well, I’ll sit tomorrow out.”

  “Laz…”

  I buckled in and started the car. “I promise not to embarrass you in front of your family, Emma. You want me to make that a wizard’s oath? Swear it in blood?”

  Remy fussed in the background and Emma sighed. “No, none of that. But if you’re going to come all the way over here, could you pick up something so I don’t have to cook? I’ll pay you back.”

  “Sure thing. Give me a half hour, and I’ll be there. Love you.”

  Emma hesitated. I realized what I’d just said and the importance of that. I hadn’t meant for that to fall out of my mouth, but as tired as I was, I didn’t have the energy to filter the words my brain came up with. Wasn’t anything I could say to recover either, not without sounding like an asshole.

  “See you in thirty,” Emma said and hung up.

  I cursed and hit the steering wheel before collapsing onto it. It’d be great if I could get through one day without screwing something up with her. At this rate, I would scare her away. Emma was making it pretty clear she wasn’t comfortable with us yet, and me inviting myself to meet her family was a dick move on my part. I hadn’t meant to do that either. It just sort of happened.

  I hated to say it, but we needed to talk and get on the same page about how this was going to work out. Maybe I was asking too much of her. I wasn’t exactly boyfriend of the year material. Single dad, hated by gods, enemy number one to the Norse trickster, Loki, and slayer of the Devil. Death himself. Yeah, I was a real catch.

  Maybe I should break things off with Emma, I thought driving down the road. Before I hurt her. She didn’t deserve to get pulled into all my messes. Emma had been happy once. Since I’d come into her life, she’d died and gone to hell. Now her nightmares made her afraid to sleep alone, and I’d saddled her with a fussy baby all day. She was Superwoman for just putting up with me.

  I sighed. Why did relationships have to be so damn complicated?

  There was a fried chicken place I remembered Emma saying she liked once, so I went in and ordered enough food to feed an army. Cost me a fortune, too, but it was a small price to pay if it took a load off her shoulders. Dealing with family during the holidays was the true nightmare.

  Armed with two buckets of chicken, mashed potatoes, macaroni salad, and coleslaw, I pulled into Emma’s driveway. The two steaming bags weighed heavily in my hands as I hurried up the walk and rang the bell. There was a commotion inside, the sound of people trying to talk over each other. I waited, but no one came to the door, so I hit the bell again.

  A minute later, a bulky bald guy ten years older than me jerked open the front door. He had hard brown eyes and a look that said he’d fuck me up if I was there to cause trouble. I immediately didn’t like him. “What?”

  “Um…” What to say? Hi, I’m Emma’s boyfriend, and I brought dinner? That just sounded wrong. I’d been expecting her to come to the door. It was Emma’s house. Why was he answering as if he owned the place? “Is Emma here?”

  “Who wants to know?” His hand strayed toward his belt as if he were used to reaching for a weapon.

  I knew that move, that tone of voice, that I’m-suspicious-of-everyone posture. He was in law enforcement. Maybe ex-military. Emma was a cop, and she said her grandfather was too. I put two and two together. Her whole family was probably in some form of law enforcement. So that was what Emma meant when she said her family was intense.

  And here I was, a white ex-con, knocking on a black cop’s door after dark with surprise chicken. Oh, boy.

  I cleared my throat and started to answer him, but Emma came to my rescue. She pushed the bald man out of the way. “Lay off, Curtis. Can’t you see he brought us dinner?” She pulled on my arm and planted a quick kiss on my cheek before adding, “Come on in.”

  Curtis squinted at me and stepped aside to make room. Brother. Had to be.

  Emma ushered me inside before turning her head and shouting, “Dinner’s here.”

  The gang filed into the living room from the kitchen, all much taller than I thought they’d be. An older gentleman in a nice double-breasted suit scrutinized me as if I was there to rob the place. His hair had gone silver, and he had a goatee to match. He put his hands in his pockets and stepped aside to allow the woman that must’ve been Emma’s mother into the room.

  Emma’s mother was a heavyset lady with short wavy hair and a face made for smiling. She reminded me of the type of woman who was someone’s great aunt and liked to pinch cheeks. Dark lipstick, brightly colored clothing. She had dimples when she smiled.

  Behind her came an ancient crone, walking half-bent, throwing her cane out in front her with every step and pulling herself along. She wore a baggy sweater and sweats, mismatched. Comfortable slippers shuffled along. Big blue eyes blinked from behind a pair of bifocals. She adjusted them as she came into the room, staring at me. “Who’s dis now, Emmy?”

  “His name’s Lazarus, Grammy. Lazarus, this is—”

  “I can still introduce meself,” snapped the old woman. “I’m half-deaf, but my mouth works just fine.”

  “Nobody’s arguing that,” said the man that must’ve been Emma’s father, crossing his arms.

  Grammy squinted at me. “Well? Put dem bags down, boy. Come on over here and let me look atcha.”

  I looked at Emma.

  Emma shrugged, though the look on her face said “told you so.” She took the takeout bags from me.

  I crossed the room in the most awkward silence ever and extended a hand to the old woman first. Pony had taught me there was an order to things: preachers and clergy first, then old ladies, then the men. At least, I think that was the order. Too late now if it wasn’t. “Lazarus Kerrigan.”

  “Like dat figure skater.”

  I smiled. “No relation, ma’am. They put me in skates once. Called it morons on ice.”

  Nobody laughed. Ouch.

  Grammy grinned, showing toothless gums. “I’m Cozana, but ain’t nobody remembers that. Call me Cozzy or Grammy. Whatever. I won’t hear you half the time no matter what. Dis here stick in the mud is my son, Perry James Knight.”


  “Mr. Knight.” I turned and offered my hand to him since Grammy didn’t take it.

  He frowned at me and squeezed my hand so hard I thought it’d break. “Mr. Kerrigan.”

  I fought to keep my smile from turning into a cringe.

  “Dis bitch his ex-wife.” Grammy swung her cane and poked the smiling woman before putting the flat of her hand against her mouth and whispering loudly. “She a lesbian now though.”

  “Grammy!” Emma screeched, horrified.

  “It’s all right,” the woman said, taking my hand with both of hers. Her hands were the kind of soft that could only be achieved with copious amounts of lotion. “Call me Joyce.”

  I smiled and nodded while Emma’s dad gave me a sour look. Ex-wife, huh? This would be a tense dinner. Thankfully, I had a day to prepare.

  Emma put a hand on my back. The gesture felt almost protective, though it was meant to get my attention. “The hardass at the door is my brother, Curtis.”

  Curtis didn’t move from his position by the door, so I didn’t move to shake his hand. Just a nod he didn’t return. Geez, hard crowd.

  “Remy’s in the crib back here. I’ll help you get her ready to go out.”

  I followed Emma to the back bedroom. She pulled me further into the room and shut the door, leaning against it with a sigh.

  “So,” I said putting my hands in my pockets and pretending not to notice the tension in the air, “they seem nice.”

  The look Emma gave me could’ve set my hair on fire. I was surprised it didn’t. “I told you they were intense. There’s still time to bow out now, if it’s too much.”

  I looked down at Remy blowing spit bubbles in the crib. Her eyes were closed, and she was breathing easy. Asleep at long last, and I was about to wake her and take her out into the cold evening. I almost didn’t want to. “Is that what you want me to do?”

  She was quiet. I didn’t know what stung more, the lack of an instant no, or that it might be a yes.

  I studied Emma’s face. She looked like a kid who’d just gotten caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “I gotta know. Do you want this? Us? Or are you just doing this because you feel like you owe me? Because you don’t. I don’t want this to be about that. I can’t do this half-in, half-out thing. If you’re not comfortable—”

  “It’s not that.” Emma stepped away from the door. “I like you, Laz. And I like Remy. It’s just…” She sighed, and her shoulders slumped. “No matter how I say this I’m going to sound like a bitch.”

  “Then just say it. I can take it, Emma.” I wasn’t sure that was true until I said it out loud. Because of a spell, I couldn’t lie to Emma. If she broke things off, it would hurt, and it would hurt for a long time, but some part of me must’ve believed it wouldn’t break me to lose her.

  Emma walked to the end of Remy’s crib and put her hands on the wooden railing. “I don’t know if I want to be a mother. Or a wife. Or anything to anyone. I’ve never thought of myself in those terms. I like my independence, my space. As much as I like Remy, I don’t know if I could be responsible for her. Fighting monsters is one thing, but I can’t see myself shopping for school supplies, or attending school plays, and PTA meetings, especially for someone else’s child.”

  I turned away. That was fair. I was asking for a lot from her. No one would want all that heaped on them, especially in addition to all the other baggage I brought with me. Here I was living in some fantasy land where everyone loved taking care of my daughter as much as I did. She wasn’t Emma’s kid. They’d barely bonded. Though she was trying, it was new for her, and scary. I’d been an ass and not even considered how this would change her life.

  Not only that, but I was asking for a serious committed relationship. Emma wasn’t sure that was what she wanted. We’d both made a lot of assumptions about how this would work and never talked about things. Just rushed in like two idiots in love, not expecting to hit a wall like we had.

  Three weeks and we were already questioning if this was a good idea.

  Emma slid her hand over mine. It was warm and familiar, but it made something in my chest ache as if I’d been torn open. “Don’t take that as a no. I do want us. It’s just a lot to adjust to, especially with everything else. We haven’t had any time to ourselves.”

  I sighed and shook my head. “That’s probably not going to happen anytime soon, is it? Life keeps throwing curveballs at us. I’m sorry. I wish my life wasn’t such a mess.”

  “Your life?” She smiled. “Have you met my family?”

  “Have I told you about mine?” I couldn’t help but smile back, even though my chest still ached.

  Emma stepped around the crib and put her arms around me. That empty feeling fled to the back of my mind, replaced by the warmth of her body pressed against mine. I inhaled the scent of her cherry blossom shampoo and the sweet, flowery smell I’d come to associate with her. Once, I would’ve said we could’ve stayed like that for hours, but now I selfishly wanted more. More time. More of her. More smiles, more laughs, more kisses. More.

  I pushed her hair back away from her face and tilted her chin up to kiss her. All the tension in her body melted into me, though I could feel her heart pounding. She made one of those small sounds halfway between a breath and a groan as I pulled her harder against me. I wanted her, everything about her. The good, the bad, the crazy. No question about it. I’d take it all if only I could be this close to her every day.

  But she wasn’t sure she could do the same. It hurt to know that, hurt like she’d shoved a knife into my chest and twisted it. Yet here I was, asking for more hurt, all for the sake of feeling wanted by someone. God, I was an idiot.

  After a moment she pulled her lips away and went back to just resting her head against my chest.

  “Tell me what I can do,” I whispered. “I’ll do it. Whatever you need, I’ll make it happen. I care too much about you to make you unhappy.”

  “I don’t know,” she replied, her voice small. “Right now, I just need to get through the next couple days with my family, and for people to stop dying. That’d be nice.”

  “I have news on that front, actually.”

  She stepped back, out of my arms. “Oh? Nate have something interesting to say?”

  I shook my head. “I talked to Holzgrief’s ghost. Emma, there’s something I didn’t tell you about last night, something that might be connected to these murder-suicides you’re dealing with.”

  Her face pinched. “It’s a monster, isn’t it?”

  “Worse than that. I think it might be a monster that feeds on magic, and I think it’s after me.”

  Chapter Eight

  I told Emma everything I’d done all day, but especially about my father’s journal. Once I finished, I brought out the book and showed her the drawing, watching her eyes widen.

  “What the hell is that thing?” She lifted the page for a closer look.

  “I don’t know yet. But so far, I’ve seen it. John Holzgrief saw it. John had access to magic, and so do I. It’s possible my father did, too.” As much as I didn’t want to acknowledge that, I couldn’t deny the possibility. There was no way to know definitively now that he was dead. “The only way to confirm that for certain would be to talk to the other shades, but it’s been too long.”

  She frowned up at me. “You can’t raise them?”

  I shrugged. “I could, but it would take a significant amount of energy. Since this thing could be drawn to that, I don’t think it’s a good idea to use magic if I don’t have to. There might be another lead though. Holzgrief was part of a coven of male hedge witches. He and another one of the murder-suicide guys both were. There’s still a third member. If we can locate him before this thing makes its final move, we might be able to save him and his family.”

  “You got a name?”

  “Just a first name. Tim. You know if either Holzgrief or Williams had a Tim as a known associate?”

  Emma drew her lips into a thin line and pushed the drawing back at me. �
�You know that’s a sealed case file until the higher-ups release it. I can’t just hand you privileged information, Laz. Besides, I don’t remember all of that offhand. I’d have to look at the file.”

  “If you don’t want to tell me, I can always canvas the neighborhood or ask the local witches, but that’ll take longer. Figured I’d try the easy route first.” I tucked the journal back into my pocket and picked up Remy.

  She squirmed and fussed a little bit but fell right back asleep when I put her against my chest.

  I turned to Emma. “Are you sure you’ll be okay tonight?”

  Emma smirked. “Why? You want another sleepover?”

  I did, but not like last time, and that wasn’t going to happen with her family in the house.

  “I’ll be fine,” Emma assured me. “I’ve got a houseful of guests. As it is, I’ll have to get out an air mattress to put them all up. I’m more worried about you. If this thing is attacking people and eating their magic while they sleep…” She gave Remy a pensive glance.

  I followed her gaze to the sleeping baby on my shoulder. Even under duress, I couldn’t imagine hurting her. But then, neither could John. He’d lost control of his body. What if that happened to me? I couldn’t risk it. Not with my daughter.

  “There’s a simple solution. I just won’t sleep until we catch the bad guy. I’ve got enough coffee at the house to keep an army awake.” I pulled open the bedroom door and leaned in for another quick kiss.

  Emma still looked worried as she walked me to the door. The only family member not at the kitchen table chowing down on the chicken dinner I’d brought was her Grammy. She sat on the sofa, snoring, one arm thrown over her head. The old woman made an impressive amount of noise, enough to wake Remy even before I wrestled her into her car seat.

  “Don’t worry so much,” I told Emma at the door. “Considering the company, I think I’m going to have a much easier night than you.”

  She conceded the point with a tilt of her head. She stood on the porch, watching as I buckled Remy in, and stayed there until we were out of the driveway.