by E. A. Copen
The other mimicked his movements. “You promised us an explanation.”
“Right. There’s a Titan—”
Haru cut me off. “We’re aware of Typhon. Keiko has been shadowing you for almost a day. I know you want my assistance. Tell me why I should help you when you’re working with my enemy. Why should anyone help a Horseman who is clearly nothing more than a puppet for a god who wants to destroy life as we know it?”
I raised my hands higher. “I’m not Loki’s puppet. We just happen to want the same thing.” Dammit, this would all be easier if I’d brought my staff. Then I could summon Hades, prove I hadn’t murdered him and handed the soul over to Loki. At the very least, I’d have someone there to back up my claims.
“Loki wants to contain Typhon?” Kaage said. The two Tengu exchanged worried glances. “And you believe him? How do you know he isn’t lying to you? Having you complete these tasks for some other more nefarious purpose?”
The thought had crossed my mind. Loki’s story about wanting to stop Typhon could’ve been just that, a well-crafted lie. That’s why I wanted to talk to Odin and confirm his story. I needed an independent god outside of Loki’s sphere of influence to verify what I was doing was for the express purpose of imprisoning Typhon in Tartarus again. For all I knew, collecting these souls and enchanting this horn would kick off Loki’s Ragnarök, not postpone it.
“I’m waiting on confirmation of that.” I shifted my weight as they exchanged yet another glance. “But even if Loki’s pulling my leg, it doesn’t change the fact that Typhon is barreling toward New Orleans, hell bent on wiping the city off the map. He’s sent monsters ahead of him too. Harpies and then a Chimera. I had to fight both of them to get this far, and trust me, it wasn’t easy. I need help, and I need help from someone I can trust.”
Haru’s spine stiffened. “And that made you think of me?”
I shrugged. “Why not? You had my back before. I know you don’t want Loki to win. Plus, you’ve got a god-killing sword. Pretty sure that’s going to come in handy at some point.”
Haru relaxed and let go of the grip of his katana, a small smirk on his face. “Well, I do like killing things. Especially gods.”
“Then are we in agreement? Will you help me?”
Grass whispered under Haru’s feet as he took two steps forward. He stood still for a long moment just in front of me like a cat stalking a mouse. His hand moved so quick all I saw was a silver blur as he drew one of the two swords at his side and swung it toward my head. It stopped just inches from my jaw, the steel quivering in his hands. Haru wore a mask of determined calm.
I winced. “Was it something I said?”
“Masamune will only cut the wicked,” Haru reminded me and lowered his sword.
I let out the breath I’d been holding, practically deflating with the effort. It’d been a test, and a deadly one at that. If I hadn’t been legit, his katana would’ve cleaved my skull in two. He wasn’t joking around.
The Red Horseman replaced his sword, patted it, and smiled at me. “That’s as much of a confirmation as I need to know you’re being straight with me.”
“You’ll help then?” I asked, hopeful.
“I have...conditions.” He gestured down another path and started walking, so I followed.
The garden seemed like it stretched on forever, though I could hear other sounds in the distance, the unified call of dozens of voices going through some sort of exercise mostly. Still, it was peaceful wherever we were. Almost like stepping back in time. It was hard for me to believe we were still anywhere on Earth, but the faint buzz of magic I usually felt whenever I stepped into a pocket dimension was absent, so we must’ve been.
Haru led me to a small courtyard and gestured to a bench. I sat, expecting him to do the same, but he remained standing. “Loki has been gathering the Horsemen to him for some time,” he began. “First there was Felicia. We uncovered their alliance at the tournament. Then he made himself the Namer of Famine, giving him access to two Horsemen. We thought he’d also recruited you. I apologize for the misunderstanding.” Haru bowed deeply.
I folded my hands and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “He’s got this plan to kill a bunch of gods who imprisoned him. It’s basically going to kick off Ragnarök. We’ll have gods fighting gods all over in no time as more of them get pulled into the fight. It’s been all I could do just to contain Loki, but he’s got allies, and not just among the gods.”
Haru nodded. “But he will need all four Horsemen to accomplish this, and here you are gathering us.” He folded his arms and frowned at me. “Aren’t you tired of second-guessing everything you do? Things have been destabilized long enough. It’s time someone put a stop to Loki’s games. If you want my help, that means we take the fight to Loki as soon as the Titan is dealt with.”
I nodded and stood. “That’s a condition I can live with. Believe me. I’m more tired of getting jerked around more than anybody. Loki’s gotta go.”
We exchanged grips.
Haru smiled. “Then I will see you in two days’ time. Where should I meet you?”
I finished ironing out the details with Haru just before Keiko reappeared. She bowed, Haru bowed, and Keiko opened another door for me. I’d forgotten how much bowing went on when dealing with these guys. Thankfully, they didn’t expect it of me. I’d have probably hit my head or something.
It was still dark in New Orleans when I returned. Emma was fast asleep on the bed in the same position I’d left her. I considered waking her, just to check on her, but didn’t have the heart to interrupt her sleep. Besides, it was still the middle of the night and I thought I’d sneak in a few more hours of sleep as well.
She woke as I laid down, though, and turned over. “What?” she asked, rubbing sleep out of her eyes.
“Nothing, Em. Go back to sleep.”
Instead, she sat up and looked around as if she’d forgotten where she was. Her eyes widened, lips parted, shoulders tense.
“Hey,” I said and put a hand on her back, “you’re okay. You’re safe.”
Slowly, she relaxed and sank back down onto the mattress, curling up against me. I exhaled and closed my eyes. In a few hours, the sun would be up, and I’d have to get back to work. I didn’t have to meet Foxglove until dusk, which gave me until then to check on Beth and see what she was up to. I also wanted to stop by the precinct and talk to Moses, see if I could at least get him to deliver a message to the higher-ups. Maybe he’d changed his mind.
While I was thinking myself toward sleep, Emma squirmed next to me, trying to get comfortable. At least, that’s what I thought until her fingertips brushed against my stomach where my shirt had come up a little. The touch woke a memory I’d tried to bury, a memory of the last time the two of us shared a bed.
My eyes snapped open. I was suddenly acutely aware of the humidity seeping in through the windows. It clung to my neck and chest like a blanket, comforting in its familiarity but also choking. Or maybe that was just because Emma was there beside me, alive, touching me, making me feel alive too.
Stubborn bedsprings creaked and moaned as Emma shifted her weight to lean over me. Soft lips brushed against the skin over my collarbone. “You’re cold,” she whispered in my ear.
“I don’t feel cold.” My skin was on fire. Every touch from her was hot enough to sting.
Then suddenly she was looking down at me, dark eyes sparkling in the low light. The wind died. Her hand moved gently to the side of my face. “I’ve missed you.”
“Me too. I mean, I missed you. Not that I missed me. I can’t really miss myself, can I?”
She smiled, leaned down, and kissed me. It was a soft and gentle thing, that kiss, and it made me remember all the others that had come before. How many times had we mindlessly traded quick pecks on the cheek on our way out the door? The last one...When was it? I couldn’t remember exactly, only that I’d missed it. Had I known it would’ve been the last, I would’ve savored it more.
; Her lips left mine too soon, hovering just inches away, enough that I could still taste her breath when I breathed in. My hands were on the small of her back, paused in the act of pulling her closer. It wasn’t enough. No kiss would ever be enough of Emma for me. If that made me selfish, then so be it. I’d be selfish.
I pulled her back to me, rougher, more desperate. Three months, we’d been apart, and I had been dead for all of them.
But even as I craved more of her, I knew we had to stop.
Emma reached to unzip my jeans. I grabbed her hand and held it by the wrist, prompting her to lean back and give me an uncertain look. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t.” It almost hurt me to say it. It was the exact opposite of what the rest of me was screaming.
“Why not? You seem capable to me. You’re not hurt, are you?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s...” I sighed and shifted from under her so I could have some space. “It wouldn’t mean anything. Not with you the way you are. You’re not you.”
Emma made an exasperated little sound. “Of course I’m me. Let me prove it. Remember that time we both tried to fit in the bathtub at the same time?”
I smiled to myself. “I told you it wouldn’t work.”
“You were wrong.”
“You cheated.”
She kissed me again and like the idiot I was, I let her. “Don’t fight it, Laz. We belong together, you and me. It’s why he chose us.”
“He?” I jerked back to frown at her. “You mean Loki.”
“Don’t think of it like that. Think of it as getting a little head start on our mission to repopulate the Earth.” Emma leaned in and tried to kiss me again.
I stood and charged away from the bed, headed for the kitchen sink, my blood boiling. When I got my hands on Loki... That monster! I should’ve seen it. That’s why he’d handpicked women I cared about. It wasn’t just a blackmail ploy to keep me from killing him. No, he’d chosen Beth and Emma because I cared about them. I guess in his twisted mind that must’ve meant I’d be okay with the end of the world. And why not? I’d get Emma in return. Or Beth. Hell, why not both, right? His whole plan was to get me on board by letting me knock up whoever I wanted. He thought he could buy me with sex. Just thinking about it made me sick.
I turned on the faucet. Only the cold water worked, but that was just fine with me. I splashed my face and neck, trying to rinse away the sick feeling while I decided what to do. All I could do was stand there and shake my head, cursing myself for not seeing the obvious. This wasn’t about giving me someone to help, or even about sending his people to spy on me. No, what’d just happened was what he meant to happen from the beginning, and I’d almost taken the bait. What kind of sorry, desperate idiot was I?
Emma never would’ve gone along with that. I needed to get her back, and sooner rather than later, before Loki’s scheme got even more out of hand.
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and hit a number on the speed dial.
Foxglove picked up on the third ring. “I’m yours to command, my king, but I would appreciate it if we could limit that to the daylight hours. Four in the morning is pushing it.”
“I need to move my meeting with Remy up. Meet me at dawn.”
All sleepiness had disappeared from his voice by the time he spoke next. “If you go during the day, you could lose the entire day.”
Emma came out of the back of the house and paused in the doorway.
I ignored the heavy look she gave me. “Worth the risk. Make it happen,” I said, and hung up.
Chapter Eighteen
The windshield wipers screeched as they drew across the glass. I turned the speed down and leaned on my elbow, looking out the driver’s side window. Misty raindrops clung to the window, watering down the headlights of passing cars.
“He should’ve been here by now,” I mumbled into my fist.
“Maybe it’s the traffic,” Emma said.
We’d barely spoken since the night before. I was still angry, though not at her. It was Loki’s scheming that had gotten to me. Haru was right. Loki had to go.
It was a half-hour after dawn, though the skies didn’t reflect it. They were dark and cloudy, heavy with the promised rain. We’d listened to the weather report on the way across town. Every meteorologist in the country seemed to be calling for the hurricane to make a direct hit to New Orleans, which meant people had started to leave town. The highways were packed with fleeing families. Anyone with the means to get out and a place to go would be leaving town over the next twenty-four hours. A few others would trickle out of the city during the next day and a half. Even under a mandatory evacuation, there’d be people who would stay behind, either because they had nowhere else to go or out of pure stubbornness.
A little blue coupe pulled into the parking lot and I perked up, leaning forward to see if it was Foxglove’s Kia. I couldn’t tell through the rain until he got out dressed in a white t-shirt, jeans and a blazer of all things. He brandished a black umbrella as if it were a sword, stabbed it at the sky and let it sprout.
I opened the door and stepped out into the rain, my staff in hand. “Thought I was going to have to call you. Now I see you were just putting on your makeup.”
He touched his face and glanced at his fingers as if he were expecting to wipe makeup off. “Very funny. Just because my king doesn’t take pride in his appearance doesn’t mean I shouldn’t. We are meeting with a queen.”
“You sure it’s not just because you’ve got a little crush?”
Foxglove rolled his eyes. “Please. We’re not grade school children, and we both know such a pairing would be impossible, especially with the current court situation.”
Foxglove had a thing for Remy, which I constantly teased him about. It was probably mean, but I couldn’t help but dig in where I could. He was better than me at just about everything, and every woman anywhere swooned over him wherever he went. It made it feel like he was the king and I was just some lackey who hung around to make him look good.
But he was right. Marriage and relationships in fae culture were more like social contracts due to their longevity, and almost always political. Remy would marry a king, prince, or someone of other importance to secure an alliance. Since I was her father, and the Court of Miracles wasn’t held in high regard, she’d be doing herself and her court a disservice marrying Foxglove.
Not that any of that stopped the two of them from hooking up. That was my job.
If anybody was going to be in a relationship with Remy, I guessed I preferred it to be someone smart, strong, and honorable like my knight, but to me, Remy was still a kid. I hadn’t yet fully wrapped my brain around her growing up yet.
Emma joined us and stood off to the side in that menacing way Valkyries did. Lurking, I guess it was, but lurking with the intent to be noticed and feared.
Foxglove glanced from her to me and raised an eyebrow.
“No, we’re not okay,” I said, answering his unasked question. I put a hand on his back and we walked further into the parking lot. “You said all the Spellweavers were in the Shadow Court before. Is there a way to find one?”
“Well, I may have misspoken. That was before my return to Summer. I think it would be best if you discussed that with Queen Remy. She may be able to help you.”
I nodded and we stopped walking. Ahead of us stood a plastic-covered building. At least, it looked like it was covered in a thick layer of hazy plastic. I didn’t know if that was actually what the covering on a greenhouse was made of.
Since taking Foxglove on as my knight, I’d learned there were several doors to Summer all around New Orleans, but only if you knew how to open them. You’d need a key, which Remy had gifted me in a small ceremony shortly after the Court of Miracles was established. I passed it on to Foxglove, mostly because I didn’t like going back and forth between Earth and Faerie and he made the trip all the time on my behalf. There were doors to other courts around the city too, supposedly, but only for those who k
new where to look and had the right key.
Foxglove shifted his umbrella and drew out a silver pendant. A hazy green light emanated from inside the metal as he lifted it into the rain, pulsing like a heartbeat. He held it in front of the greenhouse door for a minute, waiting for the magic of Faerie to recognize itself in the pendant. The green spell swelled and flashed, bathing the whole building in brilliant viridian light. Then it died suddenly, and Foxglove tucked it away to grip the doorknob. He pulled the door open, put his hand on the broadsword at his hip, and stalked through the door ahead of me.
Stepping from the hazy and humid New Orleans morning and into the sunny heat of Summer wasn’t shocking, but it was jarring. I almost stumbled when I planted my feet in grass on the other side, my brain expecting to encounter concrete. Sunlight warmed my arms and reminded me that—like always—I’d forgotten I should put on sunscreen before visiting Summer.
Remy’s door guards tended to be dryads, so they were impossible to pick out from the regular trees populating the shady grove just a few yards ahead, at least until two of them moved. Branch-like arms creaked and huge legs carried feet like roots across the grass to stand in front of us.
Beside me, Emma sucked in a deep breath at the sight of it.
“Lazarus Kerrigan, Pale Horseman and King of the Court of Miracles,” Foxglove announced without taking his hand from the sword. “We’re expected.”
The dryad creaked as it nodded and motioned for us to follow.
Emma leaned in. “Was that a sentient tree?”
“Dryad, actually,” I answered.
Foxglove smiled. “You’ll find Faerie is full of many unusual-looking species, especially when one considers the lack of variety among humans.” He finally let go of his sword and strode after the dryad.
Emma and I trailed behind, walking at a slow but comfortable pace. “After you get the fae soul you need, we should go back to Moses,” Emma suggested. “If he’s not willing to listen to reason, you may have to force his hand.”