by Amir Lane
No wonder Ariadne was worried.
Downstairs, Angelo had turned the dining room into a sort of war-room while I’d been asleep. A map of the city was spread on the table with pins stuck through it. It was a good thing we’d been wanting an excuse to get rid of that table. Taped to the wall were drawings similar to the markings I’d seen on Wes Cohn’s wall.
“What is this?” I asked, motioning to one of the drawings.
Even as I spoke, I realized I'd seen it before. What had Rowan called this one? Opening the Gates of Hell. The very sight of it made me shudder. There was something evil in this drawing.
The same something evil that killed Wes Cohn.
“Do you know any necromancers?” Angelo asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“Too bad. We’re going to have to get creative.”
I was beginning to understand Ariadne’s apprehension. Maybe the sleep was paying off.
“Define ‘creative,’” I said.
Angelo turned away from the sheet of paper he was taping to the wall to face me. He had the same sort of panicked excitement in his eyes. Finally, they said. My stomach lurched again.
“We have to fight fire with fire. He’s powered by the spirits he’s sucked up into himself. If we can get rid of them, he’ll be powerless. The problem is, unless we can find a necromancer to do it for us, we have to do it ourselves.”
Maybe Rowan was right. Maybe Wes Cohn was trying to become a necromancer.
Maybe he was trying to become the necromancer we needed right now. Maybe he hadn’t been murdered.
What difference does it make?
I felt Ariadne’s glare on us. It was finally starting to make me second-guess myself. This was so far out of my league. I was a barrier witch, for God’s sake. I didn’t deal with centuries-old necromancers. I dealt with cinnamon birds and sex-worker incubi. When I said I wanted bigger cases, when I went fishing for a bigger case, this wasn’t what I had wanted, not really. I wanted shapeshifting robbers, like Kieron got. This wasn’t what I had been trained for.
“Getting cold feet?” Angelo asked.
Was he reading my mind? Or had centuries of life given him some insight into reading people? I told myself it must have been the latter and shook my head.
“I’m wondering if maybe we aren’t getting in over our heads. I don’t know anything about any of this,” I said, waving my hand to the walls. My fingers felt bare without any rings.
“You don’t have to. I might not have access to most of my magic, but I can still pull some of it out if I really need to. Actually, in theory, either of us can. Magic is magic, it’s all about learning to channel it properly. You don’t have enough time to learn. What I need you to do is buy me enough time to get this —” He waved to the walls himself. “— to work.”
“You want her to be a distraction?” Ariadne snapped.
The sharpness of her voice made me wince. Angelo shifted his attention to her.
“Not quite. I want her to trap him.”
Oh, well. That’s so much better, isn’t it?
I was glad for the interruption when my phone, left somewhere in the kitchen, started ringing. I looked between Ariadne and Angelo long enough to decide I could leave them to find it, and turned to the doorway. My personal phone was sitting in the seashell-shaped dish with our keys and some spare change. Part of me was almost surprised Ariadne hadn’t hidden it with her obvious distrust of Angelo. I flipped the case open and frowned at the unfamiliar phone number on the screen. A telemarketer, most likely. I let it go to voicemail. If it was important, they would leave a message. If not—
To my surprise, my phone vibrated a moment later and a notification popped up indicating I had a new voicemail message. I expected an automated voice reciting me this month’s scam. It wasn’t. I could barely hear the voice at first, and it took me several seconds to identify it as Rowan’s.
“— trouble. I can’t even tell you how much trouble. I need your help. I need you to come meet me at Raymore Park as soon as you get this. There’s no-one else I can go to. Please.”
My stomach twisted at the tremble and crack in his voice. He was terrified of something. Of someone. Between finding Bromley and helping Rowan, my priority was clear. I had to help Rowan. And if I was right about everything, they were the same thing. An instinct in my stomach told me that this was it, that we didn’t have more time to prepare. What we had would have to be enough.
“Pack this up, we’re going.”
Angelo looked up at me from his papers, a frown on his face.
“You talking to me?” he asked.
“Fairuz, what’s going on?” Ariadne grabbed my wrist. “Slow down.”
There was no time to slow down. Rowan was out there right now, in danger. The more time we wasted, the greater the chances that we would be too late.
“Rowan is in trouble. We’re out of time.”
Angelo snorted. “You don’t think it’s a coincidence that your friend is in trouble right after we find each other?”
“No,” I said, “I don’t. This could be a trap, so make sure you have everything you need.”
He was quiet for a long moment. Then, he nodded. “I’m going to need to borrow some candles.”
Ariadne pointed out the drawer where we left them and followed me upstairs. It wasn’t until she grabbed my arm as we entered the bedroom that I realized she was talking to me, her voice drowned out by the blood rushing through my ears. I stopped and turned to her, fully expecting a fight. Her face was set in a hard expression, but there were tears in her eyes that made me stop.
“Don’t do this, Fairuz,” she said softly, so softly I almost didn’t hear her. “Call the cops, let this be someone else’s problem.”
My heart dropped through my chest. Part of me wanted to nod and do what she told me to. I wasn’t the only police officer in the city. Hell, right now, I wasn’t even a police officer. My powers didn’t qualify me for this sort of fight. This wasn’t my job, my responsibility. It didn’t have to be me out there.
Except it did.
I might not have been the only person in the city who could hold a shade long enough for a phoenix to pull spirits from him, but I was the only one ready to do it right now. I took Ariadne’s hands in mine. They were soft, and I imagined I could feel the powder coating of the insides of her gloves. I wanted to come back to her. I was going to come back to her.
“Listen to me, Ariadne. I am going to put an end to all of this. You can yell at me all you want when this is over, and I will deserve it, but please don’t try to stop me. Please.”
She swallowed, and I expected her to fight back, but she just nodded. Her arms came around my neck and she pulled me down into a kiss. I settled one of my hands on the small of her back and leaned into her. Something at the back of my mind whispered that this could be the last kiss we ever shared. I had to pull away before I followed that train of thought.
“I’ll be okay,” I promised.
Neither of us said anything as I changed into a t-shirt and jeans. My hand had healed fairly quickly, and the swelling was mostly gone. I slipped on as many rings as I could, including a single silver band just in case, and clasped my necklaces behind my neck. They would have to be enough to protect me. There was no time to prepare anything else.
I didn’t say goodbye. I couldn’t. It would feel too final. Instead, I kissed Ariadne again and told her I would be back soon. Angelo followed it up by kissing the back of her hand and giving her a flirty, “Ciao, bella.”
Raymore Park was too far to go on foot, so we took my car. My flashing lights would have only saved us seconds, but I still wished I had them. It was barely after four in the afternoon, and the sun was already beginning to set.
“You drive like a maniac!” Angelo shouted, gripping his seatbelt with both hands. “How are you even allowed to have a license?”
“Somebody is hurting my friend. I don’t really care about how I’m driving right now.”
>
“You won’t be able to help anyone if you crash and die!”
I gave the barest glance over my shoulder and flipped my turn signal long enough to switch lanes. The stoplight ahead of me turned yellow. Gritting my teeth together, I shifted gears and pressed down on the gas despite Angelo's yelp.
“If I die, it’s your job to help Rowan.”
Angelo snorted. “If you die, your girlfriend will find a way to kill me for good.”
He was probably right, but I ignored him. My tires squealed as I skidded to a stop in the parking lot closest to the park. I barely had the presence of mind to lock the car. Angelo followed me as I ran into the woods, slowed down by the messenger bag he had borrowed from me to hold his supplies.
“Wait up! Fairuz, wait!”
I stopped, spinning on my heels to face him, only because I realized I didn’t know where I was going. “What?”
He caught up to me and grabbed my wrist, presumably to keep me from running off again. I had the urge to pull my arm away, but didn’t. Of the two of us, he was the only one thinking clearly. I needed that. I needed him to be the rational one, the one with a plan that went beyond running in guns blazing. Especially since we had no guns.
“You need to breathe. You need to think and tell me what we are walking into.”
I inhaled sharply, forcing myself to focus on his words.
“He was trafficked as a teenager. He escaped, but they found him. The shade— Bromley got him out. He found him and now he—”
The air grew cold around us as I fell silent. I stared at Angelo, trying to make sense of all this.
“If that’s true, then there’s nothing we can do for your friend. We need to go.”
Angelo tugged my arm and this time, I did pull back. He was right, I knew he was. We weren’t ready. We needed to regroup. But somewhere out there, Rowan was in danger. Even though I told myself he was strongest in the woods, I couldn’t get the sound of his voice out of my head.
“If you want to go, then go. But this could be our chance to stop Bromley once and for all.”
The tight purse of his lips told me he didn’t believe it. I wasn’t sure I did, either. But I needed his help. There was no way I could take this monster on by myself. Even with Rowan’s help, I would be outmatched. Guilt crept through me, and I swallowed.
“This could be our chance to avenge Wes,” I said quietly.
His eyes sharpened on me. It took everything I had not to buckle and take it back.
“Fine,” he growled. “I suppose the worst he can do is kill me. Where is your friend?”
That was a good question? All the trees looked the same to me, and none of them looked like birch. I pulled my phone from the back pocket of my jeans and dialed the unknown number Rowan had called me from. The line rang, and I got Rowan’s voicemail.
“This is Rowan, leave a message.”
I swore and hung up before trying again and once again, I got voicemail.
“Try again,” Angelo said. “I think I heard it. There, shh.”
I didn’t hear anything but when he started toward the opposite direction I had been headed, I followed. Something in my gut told me he was right. The deeper we ventured into the woods, the colder I felt. A drop in temperature was expected as the leaves overhead blocked the sun, though not to this extent. The same heavy chill I felt in Wes Cohn’s apartment bore its way into my bones. Heat spread through my hip both in response to the cold and the anxious nausea writhing in my gut.
“Something is wrong,” I whispered as I called Rowan’s phone for the dozenth time.
Why wasn’t he answering? We were far from the path, and I suddenly wondered if Angelo wasn’t leading me into a trap. A familiar ringtone cut through the silence of the woods. I jumped and my heart stuttered in surprise.
“Rowan!”
“Fairuz, wait!”
I ignored Angelo's warning and took off in the direction of the sound as quickly as I could, navigating over roots and foliage. Angelo was right on my heels, close enough that the bag brushed my thigh. I didn’t see Rowan, but I did see his phone on the ground, vibrating on the melting snow. A shudder ran through me. Once again, Angelo grabbed my wrist and once again, I shook him off. The heat in my hip burned its way up into my hand as I inched forward. I kept that hand in front of me, half expecting the phone to explode when I touched it. It didn’t.
“You came.”
I wasn’t ashamed to admit I screamed. I whirled around, searching for Rowan in the dark until the whites of his eyes reflected the purple glow emanating from my hand. No wonder I hadn’t seen him. His skin was covered in that black bark, making him blend into the rest of the woods. There wasn’t the relief I might have expected in his voice. If anything, he sounded upset. Angelo's hand brushed my shoulder.
“We need to get out of here,” he warned.
“Who the fuck is that?” Rowan asked.
“This is the phoenix.”
“You found him?” Surprise quickly blended into fear. “You brought him?”
“I—”
The shiver that ran through me was unnatural, violent enough that it felt more like a spasm. My left hand, the one not encircled in a glowing purple shield, flew to the blue nazar pendant hanging from a gold chain. It cracked beneath my fingers, then split in two at the force of the evil descending on us. My foot moved back without conscious instruction. Every instinct inside me screamed at me to run, to get as far away from these woods as possible, but my training made me stay in place.
This was the evil I had been trained to fight, the evil I had been trying to find.
“Too late,” Angelo muttered. “Don’t let him move.”
Was he talking about Rowan? That didn’t make any sense. Rowan wasn’t the problem.
No, I realized, Rowan wasn’t the problem. Movement at his feet caught my eye. His shadow twisted and warped until it detached itself from him completely. My body was frozen in place as it solidified into the shape of a man hovering over Rowan.
Rutherford Bromley.
There was nobody else he could be.
“I’m sorry,” Rowan whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, not as sorry as you are going to be,” Bromley drawled.
His voice ran through my body, freezing my blood in my veins. It was cold and terrible, though not nearly as terrible as his face. Patches of different coloured skin were stitched together. Sharp teeth — siren’s teeth, an unhelpful part of my mind supplied — glowed in the faint light of my hand as he pulled his thin lips over them in a humourless grin that didn’t reach his dark eyes. Eyes, that same part of my mind whispered, that matched Angelo's.
“What’s so special about phoenix eyes?” I whispered, my voice so low I could barely hear myself.
The last of the sun disappeared behind the trees, plunging us into darkness. The only light came from my hand, causing his eyes to glow the same way a cat’s did. A quick glance at Angelo showed the same reflection. What was it Kieron had said? Dragons could see in the dark.
Bromley wrapped an arm around Rowan’s chest in a possessive fashion that made me feel sick. Worse, he pressed his nose to Rowan’s temple. Rowan squeezed his eyes shut and leaned away from him.
“You did very well, my little prince,” Bromley drawled. “Consider your debt repaid.”
Rowan inhaled sharply. A sickening squelch made bile rise up in my throat. My eyes searched for the source of the sound. I didn’t find it until Bromley wrenched back the arm not around Rowan and I caught the reflection of blood on his arm. Bromley moved back and without his arm supporting Rowan’s weight, Rowan’s body slumped to the ground.
“No!”
I reached out, but it was too late. I was too late. All I could do was stare at the blood that trickled from Rowan’s mouth and his wide eyes staring up at me as he gasped for breath. From this angle, I could see the knot of scar tissue on the heel of his bare foot, a pictographic tree. Bromley stepped over his body, his long
, shadowy cloak sweeping behind him, and approached us. My breath rose in front of my face. Acrylic nails dug into my skin hard enough to draw blood.
“I want to thank you for bringing my pet back to me, Fairuz Arshad. You must be able to appreciate how… difficult has been without him. My organs do not last as long as they used to, and I… do not relish in murder. But you must understand that some things are…” He sucked in his breath through those sharp teeth. “Unavoidable.”
Angry tears burned my eyes. I was going to kill him with my bare hands.
“Now, Fairuz Arshad, are we going to do this the easy way… or the hard way?”
I knew which one I preferred. Angelo's hand was on my arm, pulling hard, and his lips were on my ear.
“Run,” he hissed, and though I didn’t want to, I did.
Chapter Nineteen
I didn’t know why I ran. No matter how much I screamed at myself to turn back and face the coward, I couldn’t make myself stop.
Rowan was dead. My partner was dead. This was all my fault. If I had forced him to accept my help, if I had protected him, none of this would have happened. He would be alive right now if I—
No. No, this was not my fault. Bromley had killed him, not me. Bromley had marked him for death all those years ago when Rowan, desperate, had asked him for help. Was this help? A life of fear and a death in the middle of the woods?
“You can run all you want, Fairuz Arshad, but I will find you. I will always find you.”
The cold voice echoed through the woods. If he could always find me, then why hadn’t he before? Angelo had been in my home for at least a day now. He could have come at any time and taken him. Why set up an ambush? Why use Rowan when he could simply find us?
The nazar.
The evil eye was a manifestation of pure evil. I had at least half a dozen protective symbols scattered throughout the house. He couldn’t get to us because the nazar protected us. The empty chain around my neck spoke to its efficiency. But now, we were out in the open. Sitting ducks, Kieron would say.