Dark Horse

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Dark Horse Page 7

by E. A. Copen


  Why? Mostly because I was a selfish asshole. I liked the way I felt when she was near me even before I was ready to admit I cared about her romantically. She made me feel like a good person, even though I knew from the start I was poison for her. There was no other way for things to turn out than for her to get hurt. Everyone around me was hurt just by knowing me.

  I tried to warn her about that, too.

  But that was the thing about love, wasn’t it? Whether it was the love a parent has for their child, or the romantic love between two complete opposites, love broke all the rules. Not even magic could overpower love, at least not according to Pony. He’d always called it the strongest, stupidest force in the universe.

  When I pulled the life force out of Emma, I felt magic fighting back, foreign magic attached neither to me nor to her. It mimicked the chilly sun feel of Emma’s energy, which reminded me of the first daffodils sprouting from the snow, but it wasn’t her. It was as if there was another consciousness laid atop hers, delicately woven into her whole being.

  I tugged on the string just before I blacked out and felt it unravel slightly, and knew it was the spell that had changed her.

  When I came to, we were no longer in the fort, but resting on an embankment near the water. My legs were wet up to my knees, but the rest of me was dry. Hushed, feminine voices spoke back and forth until I raised my head for a look. They must’ve seen me move because the two of them, hunched down at the water’s edge, stopped talking.

  Beth stood, her silhouette immediately identifiable by how thin she’d grown, and walked several paces back to me. “Are you okay?”

  “Define okay.” I dropped my head back to the ground and winced when I discovered there was a sharp rock there. “What the hell happened? Where are we? How’d we get here?”

  “We’re just off the highway,” she answered, kneeling next to me. “After you passed out, I figured the best thing we could do was get out of there before the harpies came back, so we loaded you onto Fenrir’s back. He ferried us across.”

  I LOANED YOU SOME OF MY STRENGTH, HORSEMAN.

  I sat up a little more and spied the giant wolf’s head sticking up out of the water. He must’ve intentionally been staying low since the water wasn’t that deep. “Why? Aren’t we still enemies?”

  THE ENEMY OF MY ENEMY IS MY FRIEND, OR SO YOU HUMANS LIKE TO SAY. He bobbed his head once and turned in the water, swimming back toward the fort.

  I blinked and sat up, looking at my hands. I’d never drawn on a Titan before to replenish my reserves. It felt no different, but then why should it? Fenrir was a living thing just like any other. That he was a Titan probably didn’t matter to my necromantic magic, just that he was alive.

  I was still freezing and exhausted, despite having drawn on Fenrir’s life energy, so I was grateful when Beth and Emma helped me to the rental car and shoved me in the back. It was too hot out for them to turn on the heat, but Beth found one of those emergency foil blankets tucked under one seat and I pulled it over me. The blanket didn’t do much, but it was better than nothing.

  “So, what now?” Emma asked, strapping into the front seat.

  Beth turned the engine over. “We have a list of things we need. We’ll need to gather them.”

  Emma nodded. “Right. A god, a human, an angel, and a fae.”

  “Have some of that already,” I muttered, drawing a surprised glance from Beth in the rearview. I sighed and pushed the blanket down from my face. “Does anyone even know how to do the sacrifices or what kind of weapon we’re supposed to be making?”

  Emma and Beth exchanged a glance.

  “Thought so.” I pulled the blanket closer, tucking it under my shoulder.

  I closed my eyes and thought back to the vision Fenrir had shown me. The gods gathered at the table were all a little familiar. The one running the meeting was Odin, I was sure, and both Vesta and Zeus were in attendance. Vesta was dead, and I didn’t know how to get in contact with Odin or Zeus, but I did know someone whose job it was to get messages to gods. All I had to do was summon The Baron and have him set up a meeting with one of them. They’d be able to tell us what kind of weapon was used before and how the rituals went.

  I also needed to get a message to Faerie, which meant summoning my knight. Ideally, I’d have pulled together the whole Court of Miracles, but there wasn’t time and Paula wouldn’t take kindly to me bringing two of Loki’s lackeys into her bar.

  Last, I needed to contact Moses to see if he had any leads for where to find an angel I could use. That was a lot of messages going in a lot of different directions. To talk to Moses and Foxglove, all I had to do was pick up the phone since both were living in New Orleans. Samedi, however, would be more complicated to get a hold of. For that, I’d need magic and I was tapped until after I got some rest.

  The only plan that made sense was for me to return home, make a few phone calls and pass out, a plan which I relayed to the women up front.

  Beth frowned. “What about the god? You still need a god for the sacrifice, Lazarus, and you haven’t even mentioned a plan for that.”

  “Leave it to me.” I yawned. “I’ve got it all figured out.”

  “I don’t like you keeping secrets,” she grumbled and turned her attention back to the road.

  Guess that makes two of us, I thought.

  I normally would have had no trouble falling asleep in the back seat of an SUV, but the drive back to New Orleans from the pier wasn’t long and we had to stop at the boat rental place to explain how we’d sunk the rental. The owner wasn’t happy and demanded we pay him an inflated purchase price plus fees for the boat. Beth flashed around Loki’s black credit card and took care of it, for which I was thankful. That many zeroes was probably nothing to a guy like Loki, but for me it was several months’ income.

  Once the boat was taken care of, we had to go drop off the SUV we’d rented. Luckily, there hadn’t been any damage to it, so it was just sign and go there. The clerk gave me a funny look when I swayed on my feet and asked something about whether we’d been partying. I just flashed the kid a grin and two thumbs up, which made him snicker and elbow the girl working with him. She just rolled her eyes and stamped our rental agreement before slipping it into the filing cabinet.

  It was mid-morning before we made it back to the house in Algiers. Heat rose in shimmering waves off the asphalt and rooftops, making the air above the city dance. I had no doubt that if I cracked an egg on any of the metal roofs, it’d fry up just fine.

  I got out of the back of the SUV and stumbled toward the door while Emma and Beth were still collecting their weapons from the back. The only thing holding me up was my iron staff. I leaned on it as I slid the key into the door, only to realize it was already unlocked. Strange. I was sure I’d locked the door when I left. Maybe I meant to but hadn’t. It had been a weird last twenty-four hours.

  I turned the knob and pushed open the door only to stop in the doorway.

  Someone was sitting at my kitchen table, a short black man with thick, black-rimmed glasses and a worn black fedora. He had his hands folded. They were thin with age, as was his face, much thinner and worn than the last time I’d seen him.

  Pony D’s hands shook as he removed his hat and placed it on the table. “Mornin’ son. Betcha never thought you’d see my ugly face again, huh?”

  Relief flooded my chest at the sight of him. He was alive and kicking still and it was good to see a familiar face. Still, I slammed the floodgates closed and set my jaw. “What the hell are you doing back here? I told you if you ever came back—”

  The skin above his left eye twitched. He had no eyebrows or hair for that matter. He’d wrapped his scalp in a faded red bandana to hide that fact. “What’re you going to do to me that the cancer ain’t already doin’, son?” He glanced around, his expression hard to read. “Figured if I was gonna die, I’d do it in my own home. Guess I just hoped you’d understand.”

  I started to say something, but the door opening behind me
cut me off. Beth paused in the doorway, her grip shifting on the black staff.

  Pony’s eyes darted to the staff and his face hardened. “Looks like I missed a lot since you ran me outta town.”

  Emma crowded the doorway, forcing me to step aside so Beth wouldn’t bump into me.

  “That’s the understatement of the century.” I eyed the women, the weapons, and my ex-mentor at the table, wondering where to even begin.

  Chapter Nine

  I made coffee and tried to explain everything that’d happened since I got back from Hell. That felt like a lifetime ago. Ever since, my world had been filled with Titans, apocalypses, and trying to juggle my new roles—first as a father, and then as a monarch—with all the Pale Horseman crap. I hadn’t realized how exhausting it all was until I laid it out in one setting.

  The one event I was careful about detailing was what happened with Hades. There were aspects of that encounter I didn’t want Beth or Emma to know yet. Or Pony, for that matter. He said he’d come home to die, but I wouldn’t have put it past him to go out in a blaze of glory rather than peacefully in his sleep. The old man just didn’t have it in him to go easy.

  When I finished giving Pony the highlight reel, I realized the coffee mug in front of me was full of cold coffee. I sipped it anyway. “So, that’s where things stand. On the one hand, I’ve got the father of all monsters ready to knock down my door. Presumably, he’d roll over the country, devastating major cities. The economy and infrastructure would crumble as work and trade ground to a halt, and you’d have a serious, world-altering disaster that wouldn’t quit until it ran out of buildings to knock over and people to kill. And on the other, there’s Loki and his apocalypse, the one a few of us are supposed to survive because he’s all benevolent and pretends to give a shit about the human race.”

  Pony grunted and gestured to Beth and Emma with his coffee cup. “And these two ladies are working for Loki?”

  I nodded.

  He leaned in and put a hand to the side of his mouth. “Then why you lettin’ them stand here while we talk? You and me, we could use a little privacy to get caught up, don’t you think?”

  I considered it, rubbing my chin. While Pony was right that we could make more progress talking without Loki’s spies up our ass, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be alone with Pony either. There was a reason I sent him away, dying of brain cancer or not. He’d murdered my younger sister to prolong his own life once before. There was no reason for me to believe he wouldn’t do the same now.

  Pony must’ve known what I was thinking because he cocked his head to the side, pushed the coffee away and folded his arms. “If I wanted to hurt you, I could’ve just waited in a closet until you fell asleep. You ain’t exactly that well protected.”

  I raised an eyebrow and gestured first to Emma, then to Beth.

  He snorted. “You think death scares me, boy? Come on now. I’m half-dead already. I ain’t got nothin’ left to lose. But if it’d make you feel better, I could give you my oath as a fellow wizard that no harm’ll come to you.”

  I turned my head to address Beth. “We need all four Horsemen on board for this. That means we need Felicia. I assume Loki has Pestilence stashed somewhere safe, just waiting for the excuse to break her out?”

  Beth’s response was a frown, then a short nod.

  “Can you set up a meeting?”

  She glanced at Pony, frown deepening. “You’re trying to get rid of us.”

  “Absolutely, but it’d be awkward if I just asked you to leave so I could have a private conversation with my mentor. I’m not going anywhere. Typhon is still on his way here. If anything, I’m going to have a short conversation with Pony, make a few phone calls and have a short nap. You’re not going to miss much.”

  She lifted her chin, gripped her staff closer to her chest and said, “I suppose I should report back to Loki, tell him everything that’s happened.”

  “Good dog,” I mumbled.

  Beth narrowed her eyes at me but turned toward the door. She looked at Emma as if to say something but hesitated. “It will only take one of us to make the report. I’ll leave Emma here to keep guard. Just in case. Wouldn’t want those harpies getting the drop on you again.”

  I sighed, frustrated. I’d been hoping to get rid of both in one fell swoop, but I guess I should’ve known better. Getting rid of one of them was better than none, so I shrugged. “You know where to find me.”

  Pony waited until the engine started outside and we heard the car pull away before he picked up his cup, drained it and placed it back on the table, making a face. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I could use something a little stronger than this here coffee. How’s about a drink? And while you pour, I think I’ll go and check and see how the grass is comin’ on.”

  In other words, pour him a drink and meet him out back. I think he was hoping that the change in scenery would mean Emma wouldn’t follow us. Maybe he was right, but I doubted it. The one thing I didn’t doubt was that a shot of whiskey wouldn’t make me feel a little better about all this, so I got up to retrieve two glasses.

  Pony slid his chair back slowly and stood even slower. He moved like he was sore head to toe, as if every step was more painful than the last. I watched him shuffle toward the back door and had to crush the urge to go to his side and help. He’d just refuse the assist anyway.

  Emma stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, her arms crossed. “Don’t let him distract you, Lazarus. We’re already on borrowed time.”

  I pulled down a third glass and poured a little into it for Emma, running my fingers around the outside rim of the glass after. “What’s the worst-case scenario?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What happens if we lose?” I turned around, two glasses balanced in one hand and a third in the other which I offered to her.

  She shifted her spear so she could take the glass and shrugged. “Everybody dies.”

  “Even in a best-case scenario, I don’t walk away from this one. A Horseman has to deliver that fatal blow, remember? And if you think I’m letting anyone else do this, you’re off your rocker. I’m the only one with nothing left to lose. So, you can be damn sure I’m going to spend a few minutes between now and then saying my goodbyes.”

  “So eager to sacrifice yourself.” She shook her head and sipped the drink. “Why not send one of the others? Felicia’s expendable. Not even Loki likes her.”

  “Because I’m not the sort of person who can send other people to die in his place. I’m going to do everything I can to try and make it out of this alive, but chances are I won’t. That’s something I’ve got to make peace with.”

  “And if I say I don’t want you to die? Will that change your mind at all?”

  I swallowed and placed the other two glasses on the counter to consider them. “Depends on who’s asking me to stay. Is that Emma Knight? Or a Valkyrie?”

  “I don’t see what diff...” She shook her head, then staggered forward.

  I caught her as her spear clattered to the floor and the glass shattered, spilling the whiskey everywhere.

  “What’d you do to me?” Emma’s voice was slurred as if she was drunk, but she hadn’t had near enough for that.

  “Just a little sleep spell. It’ll wear off in an hour or two.” I shifted her weight against me and helped her toward the sofa to tuck her in under a blanket.

  “Bastard,” she mumbled as I adjusted her pillow. Her head rolled to the side and her breathing evened out, asleep at last.

  I pushed some hair away from her face. “Sorry, Emma. You can kick my ass later.”

  After mopping up the mess as quick as I could, I grabbed the other two glasses and went outside to meet Pony. I found him standing at the edge of the patio, looking out at the overgrown grass, thumbs hooked in his belt loops and jaw locked. I’d seen that look on his face before, usually just before he told me I was grounded or that I’d have to do extra exercises.

  “Grass needs cuttin�
��,” he said, his voice rough.

  I offered him one glass. “That’s a little low on my priority list at the moment.”

  Pony grunted and took the glass from my fingers, casting a wary glance back toward the house. “Where’s your woman?”

  “Asleep. We’re as alone as we’re going to get.”

  He nodded his approval and cradled the drink in one hand, staring at the ground. “About Lydia...”

  “Stow your apologies. I don’t want to hear ’em.”

  He sighed and we stood in silence, looking out over the tiny, unkempt yard.

  “See you still ain’t fixed the gutters either. Next good rain and they’ll probably come down.”

  “Why’d you come back?”

  He glanced up at me, his face sober. “Told you. New Orleans is my home. I was born here. I intend to die here, threats from you be damned. I figured you’d either kill me or just let me die. I ain’t got much time left as it is so it didn’t matter either way.”

  I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it wouldn’t go, so I washed it down with the last of the whiskey. “How long?”

  Pony shrugged. “A month. Weeks. Hard to say. You know, when you think about dyin’ of cancer, you think that eventually all those extra carnivorous cells would just crowd out the good ones and you’d just shut down. Too bad that ain’t how it actually works. Most people, they die of the complications. Respiratory diseases. Flu. The immune system just gives up and some bullshit kindergarten disease does you in instead. Dyin’ of cancer really just means dyin’ of being too alive. Anyway...” He drained his glass and handed it back to me. “Hospitals have more germs and viruses than most places. I figure I’d rather get sick doing something other than lying in a bed feelin’ sorry for myself. Now, I’m here. How can I help?”

  “Pony...”

  He turned and placed a hand on my shoulder, gripping hard. “I fucked up once. Don’t turn away my help when you need it just because of that. I know I can’t make up for what I did, but you need my help. I know you’re in over your head with this.”

 

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