by E. A. Copen
Never mind the long talk I was going to have with Emma on the way there. She sold her soul for me. What the hell was she thinking? She knew how dangerous Morningstar was. I’d told her not to trust him. Given the choice, I’d much rather have turned into the ghoul than risk Emma’s soul.
I closed my eyes. Calm down. Freak out later. Right now, deal with the succubus. My body didn’t want to obey. Every muscle was coiled tight, resisting the urge to grab Emma and shake her.
“Where?” I ground out through clenched teeth.
Khaleda smiled, unzipped her catsuit just a little, giving us a nice view. She reached into it and pulled out a red envelope that she held out to me. “He’s hosting a private party. He sends tickets with his compliments.”
I opened the envelope and dumped two chemical glow sticks and two gold chains into my hand.
“Afraid you’ll both need a change of attire to fit in too. No worries.” Khaleda snapped her fingers.
A weird tingle washed over me as if I were being coated in thousands of crawling ants. I let out a very manly shriek and tried to brush the ants off only to find my Dread Pirate Roberts attire had been replaced with a white dress shirt and a nice charcoal blazer. I’d gotten to keep my black pants at least.
“What the hell?” Emma looked down at the white dress Khaleda had put her in. She’d gotten a complete makeover with that snap including white slingback heels and makeup. Her hair, which had hung sort of limp and messy before thanks to the wig and the rain, now looked like she’d just walked out of a salon. The dress couldn’t possibly have been any tighter on Emma and let her breathe. She looked amazing.
“Wow.” It fell out of my mouth before I could stop it.
Emma shot me a glare that should’ve melted the flesh from my bones.
“I mean, uh...” I coughed. “How’d you do that?”
Khaleda smiled. “It was easy enough to generate those outfits. They’re based on things that are already in your closet. I just needed a single thread and a spell from the tailor, Adelard. It will only last until dawn. I suggest you have spare clothes nearby when the sun comes up. Afraid your other clothes had to be destroyed in the process.”
“Hey, you’re going to owe me for that belt buckle, Khaleda,” I growled.
“I’ll get you a new one.” Emma tugged the bottom hem of her dress down, then pulled up the top at her chest. “I’m sure they have them online somewhere.”
Khaleda strode past us, making sure to repay me for shouldering her out of the way earlier, and grabbed a large black umbrella from the corner. “Shall we? I have a car waiting.”
“No thanks,” Emma said, tugging the hem of her dress down. “I’ve got my own damn car.”
Khaleda raised an eyebrow. “In those heels? Honey, be realistic. Those are for playing, not for driving.”
“I’ll drive.” I held my hand out to Emma. “Unless you’d rather ride with Khaleda?”
Emma made a growling sound in the back of her throat and shifted her purse off her shoulder. It didn’t match her outfit now, but I guess I was thankful Khaleda hadn’t changed it or else we might’ve lost our ride. While it would’ve been easier to ride with Khaleda, it was in no way smart. We’d be trapped and she’d conveniently forgotten to mention where we were going.
She slapped the keys into my hand. “You go more than five over the speed limit and I’m punching you.”
Khaleda held the umbrella out for us. I pulled it away from her with a glare and opened it for Emma outside the door and offered her my arm. She took it, and we stepped out into the rain to meet the Devil.
Chapter Four
The steering wheel of Emma’s Escalade groaned as I wrung my hands over the leather cover. Traffic was bad with the power outage, but that wasn’t what had me so upset. Since getting into the car, neither of us had spoken, so I’d had plenty of time to stew. My jaw was sore from clenching it so hard. I forced my facial muscles to relax and followed Khaleda’s sedan around the next corner.
Next to me, Emma squirmed in her seat, tugging at the dress all over as if pulling on it would make it stop clinging so tight. She refused to look at me.
The only sound in the car was the growl of the wipers against the windshield and the ticking of the turn signal. I wanted to fill the silence with questions. How could she sacrifice herself for me? It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate the gesture. I just didn’t deserve it. She was a better person on her worst day than I’d ever be on my best. What the world needed was more people like Emma Knight and fewer people like me.
I didn’t care what it cost me. Morningstar was going to nullify Emma’s contract, or I was going to rip his slimy soul out and stomp on it. He was not going to hold that deal over Emma’s head for the rest of her life to manipulate her into becoming a bad person. She was the best person I knew. Like hell was I going to let him dig his claws into her.
“Just say it.”
I didn’t look at her. “Say what?”
Emma crossed her arms. “Tell me how stupid I am for making that deal. How angry you are. Argue with me.”
“Why? What’s it going to change if I fight with you now?” I lifted my right hand from the steering wheel and flexed my fingers. My knuckles were starting to ache. “Would I have fought with you when you were making the deal? Hell, yes, I would’ve. I’d have hit you with a knockout spell and shipped you in a wooden crate to Timbuktu if I thought it’d stop you from cutting a deal with Morningstar. And you’d have hated me for it.”
“It was my choice, Lazarus.”
I nodded. “It was. I don’t agree with the choice you made, but it’s made. No point in griping about the past. We’ve got to deal with the future.”
Emma threw her arms up. “What was I supposed to do? You were changing into that...thing.
“Emma, I’m not—”
“You made me promise to kill you, Laz. I couldn’t do that! I didn’t have a choice.”
“I’m not yelling at you!”
Emma looked down at her hands resting limply in her lap. “I’d feel better if you did.”
If I hadn’t been behind the wheel, driving through heavy traffic in a storm, I’d have grabbed her and hugged her. She was more upset at herself than anything.
I was mad too, but not at her. I was pissed at Morningstar for taking advantage of her. She was hurt when she made that deal, physically and emotionally. Emma hadn’t been the same person ever since the Archon had broken her arm. Something inside her was damaged, and it was pissing me off that I couldn’t fix that too. It was my fault, even if she had made the choice to show up that night. I asked her to come. I knew things could go wrong, and I’d kept it from her, so everything that happened was on me.
“Hey, you know you’re only human, right?” I grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Not everyone can be a badass necromancer and one of the Four Horsemen, you know.”
She rolled her eyes and took her hand away, but smiled a little.
“We’ll fix this. I promise. Meeting with Morningstar is the first step.”
“Okay. Yeah. I believe you.” She nodded.
I breathed a sigh of relief. Deep down, I was still pissed about the whole situation, but I could bury that and take it out on Morningstar’s hide when we got where we were going.
Khaleda’s sedan took another turn onto Decatur Street from St. Louis. Three blocks ahead stood Jackson Square, which held a portal to another pocket dimension under the statue of Andrew Jackson. The last time I’d been there, human souls had been up for auction. Jackson Square was also where the body had been found that led to my nearly becoming a ghoul myself, and it was just a few yards from Pirate Alley. Everything supernatural I’d encountered tended to be in the same couple of blocks, all around Jackson Square.
“I think I know where we’re going,” I said. “And I don’t like it.”
“At least the rain seems to be letting up.” She leaned forward and peered up at the sky as the clouds rapidly cleared. Too fast for it to be normal. So
mething was up.
Our escort’s car pulled up to the curb outside the square where the carriages normally parked. The street was unusually empty, even considering the rain. The only people on the street were a couple of grim-looking, broad-shouldered bodyguard types. They stepped up to open Khaleda’s door for her, holding an umbrella over her just in case it started raining again. Once she was out, another guy climbed into the car and drove it away. Valets. Why the hell were there valets at Jackson Square?
I guess she did say it was a private party. I looked at Emma. “It’s probably best if you let me do most of the talking. No offense. Gods and monsters won’t be scared by that ice-cold glare of yours, no matter how impressive it is.”
She gave me exactly that glare and I shivered.
The valet came around to open Emma’s door for her. “Good evening, madam, sir. Tickets?”
I grabbed the glow sticks from the dash and tossed them to him.
“Wonderful.” The valet snapped the glow sticks and shook them up before handing them back to us. “Follow the golden path and go through the red gate. You can’t miss it. Enjoy your evening.”
My door opened and another valet ushered me from the seat. I didn’t want to hand the car over to a stranger without Emma’s approval though so I stayed where I was until she got out.
“Scratch my paint, and I’ll kick your ass,” she growled to the valet.
I got out of the car and Emma came around to join me. “Ready?” I said, offering her an arm.
“I’d be more ready if I had my gun.” She slid her arm in mine.
“Guns don’t work on gods,” I reminded her.
“It’s not for killing them. It just makes me feel better.”
I’d just started looking for the golden path the valet mentioned when the jingling of bells made me turn back to the road. A gilded chariot rolled down the street, driven by giant, furry, four-legged monsters. Pointed ears jutted from the tops of the creatures’ heads, and a long tail swished back and forth like a snake. Sharp claws and teeth marked the monsters as dangerous predators that shouldn’t have been allowed to walk the street at night.
Emma stared. “Are those...cats?”
“Giant cats. And me without my staff,” I grumbled.
The chariot the cats pulled held a woman wearing a strapless purple dress. Long, curly blonde hair flowed behind her. A golden circlet adorned her head and more gold dripped from her neck and wrists. Her dress was little more than a few crisscrossed strips to cover the important bits up top, and a miniskirt below.
“I know this one,” I said and racked my brain. She was Norse, a goddess, but I couldn’t remember off hand which. I really needed to brush up on my pantheons. I snapped my fingers. “Freya.”
“And she’s the goddess of?”
“Norse goddess of sex, fertility, gold, death, and war.”
Emma made a face. “How is all that covered by one goddess?”
“Ever heard of a war that wasn’t fought over money, fertile ground, or some hot chick?”
“Good point.”
Freya pulled her cat chariot to a stop, and one of the cats immediately put its leg up and began licking its crotch. Disgusting. Freya smiled ear to ear and declined the offered hand of the valet to climb down. Her eyes fixed on me and lit up.
I tightened my grip on Emma’s arm. “Time to go find that golden path.”
Jackson Square has a series of circular paths lined on either side by trimmed hedges. Two straight paths intersected in the middle. None of them have ever been gold. They were usually made of your standard sidewalk materials, but that night they sparkled as if they were made of pixie dust. I held Emma back to keep her from stepping on the first sparkling square of sidewalk, unsure of what would happen. Knowing gods were apparently in attendance at this party, they might have decided to play a trick on mortals and make the sidewalks explode if humans stepped on them.
I slid the toe of my shoes onto the sidewalk and it lit up, emitting a golden light. Nothing exploded, so I moved onto the square. “Guess we found the golden path.”
“Now we just have to find the red gate.” Emma charged ahead.
Each section of sidewalk lit up gold under her until she took a turn and the new section turned black underfoot. The ground shook, and a sinkhole opened up, swallowing the sidewalk. Emma teetered on the edge of the seemingly bottomless sinkhole.
I dove to grab Emma and pull her back to safety on the golden path. We stood at the edge a moment, staring into the abyss that had nearly swallowed her. Choosing the wrong path on this walk could be deadly.
“Stay with me,” I said, linking my arm in hers. “And let’s be more careful.”
We walked around the circle at a snail’s pace, checking every patch of sidewalk before fully committing. It felt like we’d walked for miles, certainly long enough to have circled the square twice, but we never came to any sections of path that had been previously lit. Everything stayed lit behind us, yet sparkling darkness curved ahead.
“This is getting ridiculous,” Emma said. “And my feet are starting to hurt.”
“It’s magic.” I extended a hand to the edge of the path and felt the current of it, pushing us along. “Someone’s folded the space.”
“If it’s folded, shouldn’t it be shorter?”
“Yes and no,” I said, pulling my hand back. “It’s shorter on Earth. The way this spell works, the space only unfolds when it’s active. We’re in a sort of sub-dimension of time and space.”
The transition had been so subtle, even I hadn’t noticed. Whoever put the spell up was talented as hell. I didn’t know whether to be impressed or terrified.
We pressed forward. Around the next bend, the path ended abruptly with a tall wall of shrubs blocking the way forward. I knew we hadn’t taken a wrong turn because we weren’t dead, but it looked like a dead end. On the walk, I’d already learned not to trust my eyes as my guide. Just because it didn’t look like there was any way forward didn’t mean there wasn’t.
I walked up to the shrub wall with Emma and passed my hand over it, looking for any signs of magic. I could feel it there, lurking just underneath, but it felt out of reach.
Emma pressed her hand to the wall. “Do you suppose there’s a magic word or something?”
“No, he said we can’t miss it. You’d think they’d give us the password if they were going to lock the door.” I looked down at the neon green glow stick hanging around my neck. Maybe they were more than tickets and trinkets. “I’ve got an idea.”
I lifted the glow stick from around my neck and held it close to the shrub wall. In the weak light of the glow stick, the wall disappeared, replaced by a bright red gate. I moved the light until I found the gate handle and lifted it. The illusion wavered and disappeared completely.
“After you,” I said, holding the gate open for Emma.
We stepped into the party to rival all outdoor parties. Hundreds of people—some of them probably gods—bounced back and forth under a ceiling of flashing lights that changed in time with the live band; a live band whose centerpiece consisted of an electric bagpipe. Surprisingly, it wasn’t horrible. Smoke rolled over a glowing swimming pool that was filled to the brim with perfect, god-shaped bodies. A long buffet table stood tucked against one wall, practically overflowing with a perfect version of every food you could imagine. There was the standard party food like chips and dip, veggie trays, and caviar. What’s a party for gods without a little caviar, right? But there was also a whole roasted large bird of some kind. It might’ve been an ostrich judging from the placement of the gold leaf feather garnish. A fountain stood at the far end spitting out what looked like wine. There were more gold chains and precious gems on display than at a jewelry store.
“There you two are.” Khaleda seemed to materialize from a section of the party on our right where a pale woman clad only in frost was making ice sculptures by simply waving her hands. “About time you got here.”
I sneered at her. �
�Well, you could’ve been a more attentive guide.”
“I’m not your babysitter.” She turned to Emma. “Word of advice? Don’t eat anything. This place is a pocket of the Greek underworld. You eat it, and you’re stuck here.”
“Got it. Take us to your boss.”
Khaleda’s lip twitched when I called Morningstar her boss. She hated him almost as much as I did. Like everyone else, though, Morningstar had something on her that kept her from leaving. She had to follow orders, which meant he was her boss. Didn’t mean she liked it. I might’ve cared if she hadn’t betrayed me a few months ago for an envelope full of cash.
She turned on her heel and walked through the party. Crowds parted for her, and by extension, us. Heads turned. It was hard to say whether they were drawn to Khaleda’s succubus nature or the curiosity of the two humans who’d stumbled into an underworld party full of gods.
I blinked and called up my Soul Vision for a look. Gold souls bounced around the party in every section, but not everyone was a god. There were fae in attendance as well, but none that I recognized. A handful of humans moved among the crowd, no more than a dozen. The other two Horsemen might be in attendance. I’d have to ask Morningstar.
Another variety of soul also prowled around the edges of the crowd, hanging to the shadows, amber in color. Unlike most souls, which had tendrils that reached into the rest of the body, these souls seemed to expand beyond the limitations of their human bodies, outlining longer limbs and twitching tails. Shifters. I hadn’t run into any in my time as the Pale Horseman yet, but I knew they were out there. They were rare and preferred to keep to themselves. Yet here they were, at Morningstar’s party.
Khaleda walked us away from the main party and to a tent that stood in a clearing. She lifted the flap and ushered us inside where the atmosphere was much less wild. Big, fluffy pillows lined the carpeted floor of the tent in front of plush sofas. Everything was a warm shade of red accented with gold.
Three men and three women turned away from a table with a tea set to look at us. They looked human enough, but underneath their souls glowed god gold. None of them were Morningstar.