Dark Revel

by E. A. Copen

  I gritted my teeth. Of all the gods that could answer me, why him? I’d have to be more careful about choosing my words next time. If there was a next time.

  “Well?” Loki said. “Don’t you want to hear my offer, Horseman?”

  “Why make an offer at all? If I die, another Pale Horseman gets named, one you might be able to influence easier to get to do what you want. Not to look a gift horse in the teeth or anything.”

  “Was that an attempt at being smart?”

  It wasn’t. I’d forgotten Loki had been a horse once in mythology. Damn shapeshifting ability. Wait a minute... “What do you know about this wannabe version of me running around New Orleans?”

  Loki laughed. “Oh, the things I could tell you that you don’t know are nearly endless, Lazarus. That information doesn’t come cheap. But I’ll tell you what. For the low, low price of two names crossed off my list, I’ll tell you who has your daughter and where. For a third, I’ll throw in the means to rescue her before time runs out.”

  If I’d had any blood in that state, it would’ve chilled at his last statement. I knew I had to find Remy and fast, but I hadn’t been sure there was any time limit. It was possible Loki was lying to me. What reason did he have to tell the truth? Then again, what reason did he have to lie?

  Loki was offering me a deal, but it wasn’t a good one. The three names, they’d be gods he’d want me to kill as part of his revenge plot. I knew there were twenty-one names on that list, and that he couldn’t kill them himself. He’d enlisted the help of Famine and probably Pestilence. If he had me, he could wipe out those names in no time, even if I only helped a little. It would be murder, killing those gods, and I wasn’t a murderer. But what choice did I have?

  I could die. That’d be the honorable thing to do. Die and leave my friends behind to clean up after evil me. Okay, so maybe not that honorable, but my life was fucked anyway. I’d live the rest of my days on the run from the law even if I did get my daughter back. To save face for Emma, I’d have to break things off. Just thinking about that hurt more than dying ever did.

  But if I didn’t go back, they had almost no chance of taking out an evil version of me, or whatever that guy was. They were Normals with no magic. Even if they appealed to the witches of the city, they’d be no match for someone with my powers. I kept my abilities under wraps, preferring to use them to help people rather than hurt mostly because I knew what I was capable of. There was a reason most necromancers turned to the dark side of the art. That kind of power was seductive.

  Die alone and let my friends suffer or become a murderer myself. Wasn’t much of a choice.

  But those weren’t my only two options, and Loki wasn’t the only god I could call on. I had a direct line to someone else, someone who liked me a lot more than Loki.

  I’d never been much for prayer, God, or traditional worship. Sure, Pony dragged me to church and made sure I was brought up a proper Southern Baptist kid, but once I understood the magic behind it, I placed little stock in God or church. He—or maybe She—was a deity for the desperate, someone only the lost and helpless called on. Me, I had magic. I’d never been helpless, or so I thought.

  After I killed the Devil, I met God briefly, or some version of Her (though She had many forms, I got the distinct impression She was female). She’d sent me back once before. Maybe She could do it again.

  I closed my eyes and tried to focus my will into my words, sending the prayer out in all directions. “Please, God. A little help would be nice.”

  “Go ahead,” Loki’s voice echoed. “Make your call. I’ll be here when you’re done. I’m a patient god.”

  The bright light in the distance flashed brighter, pushing away the darkness. I wasn’t in my body anymore, but I got the distinct feeling that wherever my body was, fire ants had crawled under my skin. Light surrounded me, burned me to nothing, and then rebuilt me to stand in a garden. Colorful flowers leaned into me from all directions, red roses and purple foxgloves, yellow daffodils and orange lilies. There were ferns and flowering cacti, all the most beautiful, perfect examples of their species. Emma would melt with envy if she saw the place.

  I pushed aside a sunflower and stepped into a small clearing. A man sat at a table under an umbrella designed to look like a watermelon. A newspaper hid his face from view, meaning all I could see of him was the dark, wrinkled skin on his knuckles and the pure white suit he wore. Didn’t matter. I knew Detective Moses Moses well enough that I could recognize him by his hands.

  “Zuriel owes me dinner,” said Moses. He lowered the newspaper, revealing the familiar, weary face. “I told him you were a prayin’ man. Guess he didn’t see it in you.”

  I glanced around the garden clearing. “Your boss isn’t here?”

  “And which boss would that be?”

  “God?” As far as I was aware, angels only had one boss. His response struck me as unusual.

  Moses sat forward and sighed. “No one’s seen God since the Devil mantle went up for grabs.”

  I blinked. “Wait. That would mean...”

  “Sit down, son.”

  My legs moved on their own, carrying me to the table. On automatic, I pulled out the chair and sat stiffly. God was gone. How was that possible? “If She’s gone, who’s running Heaven? And why is She gone?”

  Moses shook his head and folded the paper further before setting it aside. “Nobody knows. Some think it’s because the Devil’s gone, that the two mantles are linked. Destroy one, the other goes too.”

  “But I didn’t destroy the Devil mantle. Just the guy wearing it.”

  He shrugged. “It’s been so long since that’s happened, nobody rightly knows what’s goin’ on. All we know is the Almighty vanished about the same time. Michael is running things for now, and that doesn’t bode well for you.”

  I sighed and lowered my head. “He doesn’t want to send me back.”

  “Sorry, Laz. He ain’t sendin’ nobody back these days. Things up here are a little different.”

  I made a fist and struck the surface of the table. “After everything I’ve done for your side, all the monsters I’ve killed, the apocalyptic situations I’ve defused, all I want is enough time to save my little girl, and you can’t give me that? What the hell is the point in helping the good guys if they’re just going to screw you in the end?”

  Moses sighed and stared at the tabletop. “Ain’t my choice, Laz. I’d help if I were allowed, but this is bigger than me and you.”

  “What about Loki?” I pushed myself up, resting my hands on the table. “Who’s going to stop him if I’m gone, huh?”

  Moses didn’t answer.

  Then it hit me. “Christ, you don’t want the bastard stopped.”

  “Language!” His shoulders slumped and his face relaxed. “And like I said. It ain’t up to me. I warned you before there’d be consequences for what you did for Emma. Directive Seventy-Seven is martial law here. Were I to violate Michael’s law, I’d be terminated.”

  “He’d make you mortal?”

  Moses met my eyes. “Worse. He’d cast me out. Make me one of the Fallen. I’m sorry, Lazarus. I disagree with the directive, but I cannot disobey a direct order. No how much I wish I could.”

  I sighed, suddenly exhausted on a level I’d never known was possible. There came a time for every man when he had to choose whether to keep fighting a losing battle or just let go and slip into eternity. Maybe this was my time. People died at inconvenient times. Why should I be any different?

  Because I have a choice. I have magic. I’m the fucking Pale Horseman for Christ’s sake. Death is my name, and I won’t go quietly into it. If the After wants me, they can drag me kicking and screaming into eternity.

  I swallowed and avoided looking at Moses. “I have other options, but I don’t know if I can...”

  Moses leaned forward to pat my hand. “There’s forgiveness for everyone, Laz. No matter what you have to do.”

  “No, it’s not that. I just don’t know how I
’ll forgive myself, Moses. I have to become a monster. A killer.”

  “You’ve killed before.”

  I shook my head. “Not like this. Not in cold blood. Not... murder.”

  Moses was silent for a long beat. “I can’t tell you what to do. I’ve helped far more than I should’ve. You are a good man, Lazarus. That’s the trouble with good men in evil times. Sometimes, you just gotta get your hands dirty lifting others up. Ain’t nobody up here wants to admit that, but there you are.” He stood, placing a white hat on his head. “I’m real sorry, Laz. Wish there was more I could do.”

  I closed my eyes and nodded. “You’ve done plenty.”

  He nodded and was gone. The garden disappeared with him and I was thrust back into blackness with Loki’s voice echoing in my ears.

  “Tick-tock, Lazarus,” Loki said. “This is a limited time offer that I’m not obligated to renew. As you so helpfully pointed out, you’re a replaceable part of my agenda.”

  I closed my eyes against the light floating closer. There was no way out. Either way, someone innocent would get hurt. At least I could ensure it was someone who deserved it. “I’ll do it.”

  “Excuse me? I didn’t quite catch that.”

  “I’ll do it,” I shouted into the void. “Give me your three names.”

  Chapter Ten

  I cracked open my eyes. Everything was blurry, but I thought I could make out a bright light hanging over my head. Not one of those buzzing hospital lights, but the decorative globe type you’d find in a bedroom. My whole body ached, but I was acutely aware of a burning heaviness in my stomach, moving diagonally from just under my chest to my hip. The slightest movement made stiches pinch.

  My throat was sore and dry as Arizona in the summer. I tried to draw a tongue over my lips, but it was like sandpaper. “Water.”

  Emma appeared, eyes wide. She’d put on some clothes. That was good, considering I didn’t think I recognized that light from her house. They’d taken me somewhere else. Question was, where? Icy hands touched my face. “Lazarus?”

  “As far as I know. You were expecting someone else?”

  She hugged me to her, sniffling into my shoulder. “Dammit, don’t you ever do that again! Don’t you die on me! Nate! Nate, he’s up!”

  A door somewhere toward my feet crashed open and Nate rushed in, fitting a stethoscope to his ears. “How do you feel? Does it hurt?” He jerked my shirt up. Something tugged at my skin like tape being peeled away. “Holy moley. It’s gone.”

  I lifted my head for a look, expecting to find a big, jagged cut crossing my body. Instead, all that remained of whatever Bizarro Me had done were the stitches someone had put in. “To answer your question, I feel sore as hell, but damn is it good to be alive.”

  “I imagine.” He pressed the ice-cold stethoscope against my chest. “You had to be resuscitated three times during surgery.”

  “Surgery?” I winced. Did that mean they’d taken me to a hospital after all?

  “Laz, that other you ripped you open.” Emma crossed her arms. “And he hasn’t let up causing trouble ever since. Nine more people have gone missing.”

  “Nine?” I tried to sit up, but Nate pushed me back down. “Just how long did that surgery take?”

  Nate removed the stethoscope from his ears. “Nine hours, but you’ve been mostly comatose for almost a week.”

  A week. The news hit me like a cold slap. That meant Remy and Jessica had been gone eight days. My hand closed around Nate’s wrist. “Leah? Jess?”

  He pressed his lips into a thin line and avoided my eyes. “Jessica is still missing. Leah made it through. She’s getting stronger every day. I tried to explain the situation to her, but...” He shook his head. “I need to get our daughter back. Alive. I don’t have anything else to hold onto now.”

  “I’m really sorry, man.”

  “Don’t be sorry. You made it. That’s more than I hoped for. Now I just need you to explain the miraculous healing to me.” He gestured to the wound. “Emma, hand me those surgical scissors and we’ll get these stitches out.”

  I winced, and not at the thought of Nate pulling the stitches out of me. How was I going to explain to him and Emma that I had cut a deal with Loki to come back? He hadn’t given me any names yet, but it was just a matter of time before the first one landed in my lap. I couldn’t lie to Emma because of the magic bond we shared, but maybe I could skirt the truth if they didn’t ask too many questions.

  “What can I say? Someone was looking out for me. I’ve got connections in the underworld.” I hissed when Nate tugged on one of the stitches. “Easy. That’s still tender.”

  “Sorry,” Nate mumbled and snipped one of the strings. With a gentle tug, and only a little blood, it slid out from under my skin.

  Ew. I turned away to focus on Emma. Her eyebrows were drawn together in concern, her lips pale from pressing them together hard. “How’re you holding up?” I asked her.

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter how I am. The only thing that matters is getting Remy and Jessica back, Laz.”

  “They’re in Faerie,” I said.

  Nate stopped snipping and glanced up. “How do you know?”

  I tried to shrug, but I was too sore. “I figured it out before I got sliced to ribbons by my own spell. Bizarro Me mentioned he had a standing invitation to the Summer Court and Remy being the Summer Princess. How could he know that unless he’d been there?”

  “Bizarro you?” Emma raised an eyebrow.

  It was a bit of a stretch in logic, but it made sense. The locator spell I’d used had latched onto Bizarro Me instead of Remy because he must’ve been the closer DNA match, but that might also be the reason we couldn’t find Jessica with Nate’s DNA. If the girls weren’t in New Orleans anymore, the spell wouldn’t have worked. Yet if they’d been taken to the airport, the blood would’ve tracked there. Go out of town in a car, and the spell would’ve taken us to the edge of the map in whatever direction they’d been taken. The only viable explanations were that either Josiah was right and Jessica wasn’t Nate’s daughter—highly unlikely—or that she’d been hidden by magic. Taking the girls to Faerie was the best magical way to ensure they’d never be found. That, combined with Bizarro Laz’s remark about Summer, led me to believe that’s where the girls were, though I had no evidence to support that theory.

  The question left to answer was where in Faerie? My evil self had mentioned the Summer Court, but that wasn’t a given. If Titania had taken Remy, why take Jessica too? I had friends in Summer. Surely one of them would’ve gotten word to me that the Summer Queen had my daughter.

  Unless they didn’t know I didn’t know. I suppressed an involuntary shiver. What if they thought evil me was me? Leah had believed it, and Declan knew me even less well than Leah did. Titania might’ve also forbidden them from getting a message out or worse. She wasn’t exactly the most stable Faerie queen.

  Even if I could be sure they were in Summer, I didn’t know where they were being held and by whom. If Titania was smart—and in my experience, she was no idiot—then she wouldn’t have Remy at court. Faerie had weird reactions to Remy’s presence. When she was there, fae could die as if they weren’t immortal, which scared the hell out of most fae.

  Loki had promised to tell me who had them and a means to get them back, but I’d likely have to eliminate at least one name on his list to get that information.

  “Oh, thank goodness.” Nate tugged out more of the string. “Now that we know where they are, all we need is a plan to get them back.”

  I shook my head. “Faerie is a big place. There are five courts. While I think it’s likely that they’re in Summer, I don’t know for certain. It could be Titania just decided to steal her granddaughter back, or maybe a rival court took her to blackmail Titania into doing something. Fae politics are complicated. We need to get a fix on who has her and where. And even if we have that, there’s more to a rescue than marching into Faerie and grabbing the kids.”

 
; “Like what?” Emma asked crossing her arms. “What do you need us to do?”

  “Well, for starters, finding a way into Faerie is damn near impossible unless you get a fae to show you an entrance. Jesus, Nate! That hurts!”

  “Sorry. I can give you something if you want, but it’ll probably make you tired.” He frowned at me. Nate already knew I’d refuse.

  “No, I’ve slept long enough. Just...warn me next time, okay?”

  He nodded and went back to work.

  I sighed. “Where was I?”

  “We can’t get into Faerie,” Emma said.

  “Right. But let’s say we do get into Faerie. Wherever we land, we have to negotiate with the local queen just to pass through their lands. Because of my connection to Summer, I could be seen as a hostile invader if we go in anywhere other than Summer. If we go in a Summer door, they might not be so welcoming either since they know what I’m capable of.”

  Emma paced, walking out of sight, turning, and walking back. When she passed me, I caught sight of the healing bruise on the side of her face and new anger flared to life in my chest. He’d hurt her, possibly hurt Remy. I should’ve been there to protect them. Instead, I let some trivial work distract me so he could take my daughter, and my record got me tossed in jail, letting Emma get hurt.

  “Stop tensing,” Nate advised. “It’ll hurt worse.”

  It was my turn to mutter an apology. “Where are we anyway? This doesn’t look like a hospital.”

  “We brought you to the morgue to patch you up.” Nate pulled a long, bloody bit of string up and snipped it. I hoped that meant he was done, but then I felt him pull on another string and almost threw up at the sensation. “D.J. wasn’t happy. Tried to call Drake and Codey. Emma stopped him.”

  I rolled my head to the side again to look at Emma. “Nice. How’d you manage that?”

  She stopped and shifted uncomfortably, but wouldn’t meet my eyes.