by E. A. Copen
An angelic-looking blond in a charcoal suit uncrossed his legs and stood. “Ah, I see you got my message. Thank you, Khaleda, for bringing them.”
This was Morningstar? He must’ve swapped bodies. It figured. He was an Archon too, which meant he couldn’t stay in a single body forever. They tended to rot, so Archons discarded them like used toilet paper. Just to be sure, I took a peek at his soul, or lack of one. Yep, black as black could be.
Khaleda bowed and backed out of the tent.
I squinted. “There’s something different about you. I know.” I snapped my fingers. “Haircut?”
The big, dark-haired guy with the mustache belted out loud laughter. “This is our Pale Horseman? I like this one.” His accent was Slavic, but I couldn’t begin to guess at a precise location.
“He’s rude,” said the naked, dark-skinned woman. She glared at me with red eyes I didn’t dare meet.
“Well, at least he’s pretty.” The other woman in the room was old and wrinkled and looked Hispanic. “Been a while since we’ve had a pretty one.”
“Haru is pretty,” said the white-faced Asian lady and snapped out a fan.
“He’s an arrogant ass, just like this one, Izanami.” The last guy in the room wasn’t really a man so much as he was a goat. Or, I guess, goat-man. He had the head of a goat, complete with two horns, but the body of a man, and somehow managed human speech despite having a mouth that didn’t seem compatible.
The last guy was the only one I recognized of the bunch. He was a tall, well dressed black man with a top hat and cane. The white face paint meant to look like a skull gave him away. My boss, Baron Samedi. He put down the bottle of rum he’d been drinking from. “At least he has the good sense to be afraid of you fools.”
I frowned. “Um, I’m standing right here. And I’m not afraid of any of you.”
“You should be.” The naked woman’s eyes flashed a brighter red. “He killed Anubis. He is dangerous and should be put down.”
“I don’t think Kali likes you,” said the new, blond Morningstar. He smirked.
The Slavic god shrugged. “Kali doesn’t like anyone. Me, on the other hand, I love mortals. Come and sit a spell. Have a drink.”
I nodded my thanks but declined. “I think I’ll have to pass. I’m here on business.”
“Business,” he scoffed and lifted a goblet. “This is a party. Relax. Enjoy. While you still can.”
I suppressed a shiver and tugged Emma closer, hoping no one would notice her.
Morningstar handed off the cup he’d been holding. “Unfortunately, we do have a small matter to attend to. I’d be eternally grateful if we could have the room.”
Kali helped the old woman goddess up and led her toward the door. On the way, she stopped to flash fangs and a bright red tongue at me. “You should take him up on his offer, Horseman. My rakshasas will have fun tearing you apart.”
I didn’t know off hand what a rakshasa was, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out. That they’d work for someone like the Hindu goddess of power and destruction meant they were scary monsters.
Izanami patted the Russian’s leg. “Come, Chernobog.”
He pushed her hand away. “I’m drinking. I leave when I’m finished.” He upended the bottle over his mouth, and only a few drops fell out. For good measure, he shook it just to make sure and then threw it. “I’m finished,” he declared and stood. He staggered, but Izanami was gracious enough to assist him through the door.
“You too, Samedi,” Morningstar urged. “This is private business.”
Samedi raised both eyebrows and crossed his arms. “Private business with my Horseman. I’m no fool, Morningstar. I’ve a right to remain.”
Morningstar met my eyes for a moment before glancing at Emma. “Very well. I assume that all parties in the room are aware of the contract between myself and Ms. Knight?”
“You mean the contract you’re going to destroy and forget about?” I let go of Emma to step into the middle of the room.
“Laz, don’t.” Emma tried to follow, but I gestured for her to stay where she was. She would be pissed that I wasn’t letting her help negotiate, but she didn’t know Morningstar like I did.
Morningstar flashed a brilliant white smile. “I’m actually prepared to do just that.”
I hesitated. “What’s the catch?”
“Do you recall how Famine was destroyed?” He sank to the pillow he’d previously abandoned and took up his drink. “Along with the Namer?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. Wherever this was going, I didn’t like it. “Yeah, we’re kind of both responsible for that. You took out the Archon, and technically the Archon killed Famine.”
“Not as far as they’re concerned.” Morningstar gestured to the door with the drink in his hand. “There was a vote a few weeks ago. The council unanimously voted to hold you responsible.”
“Unanimously?” I narrowed my eyes at The Baron.
The Baron just shrugged. “I told you to leave it alone. When you choose to disobey, there are consequences. You can’t be exempt from consequences, Lazarus.”
“Indeed,” said Morningstar before taking a drink. “Of course, all of us would’ve been happy to let the natural consequence take its course. That is, to let you turn into a ghoul.”
“Except I owe you.” I ground my teeth. I owed Morningstar three days of service, but not until February. Considering all the trouble he’d gone through to make sure I could still fulfill my end of that bargain, I wondered which one of us regretted that arrangement more.
Morningstar leaned back. “I protect my investments, Lazarus. I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I didn’t keep my word to the best of my ability. However, by killing Anubis, you angered some important people. He was a well-loved god.”
“It was his fault,” I said, pointing emphatically to the floor. “He made me fight him. What was I supposed to do? Just let him kill me?”
The Baron huffed. “If they had their way, yes. Remember that most gods aren’t fond of human ingenuity, only their worship and obedience.”
“Yeah, well, fuck gods.”
“Careful.” Red flashed behind Morningstar’s eyes.
I rolled my eyes. “Come on, man. You’re no god.”
“Not yet, which brings me to my next point.” He placed the cup on the floor in front of him. “The balance must be maintained. There are supposed to be four Horsemen at all times. With Famine and his Namer gone, another Namer must be named. I want the job.”
“Unless you’re asking if you can use me as a professional reference, I don’t know how I can help, Morningstar.”
He placed his hands on his thighs. “There’s to be a tournament. All the gods and important magical creatures in the world are invited to field a team of no less than five people. If my team wins, I win. I want you on my team.”
It took a second for me to process that. The new Namer of the next Famine was being chosen through a tournament? That seemed a funny way to decide something so important. Then again, I was dealing with gods, and most gods were spoiled, bored toddlers with phenomenal cosmic power. Crashing their dolls together until some of them fell apart was probably more entertaining than a game of eeny, meeny, miny, moe.
It was likely their fights would be to the death, too. Gods had no concept of mortality, and so they didn’t hesitate to throw lives away. If I entered the tournament, I’d have to kill or be killed. Worse, I’d have to do it for Morningstar’s gain. I wanted to bury him, not help him.
But if it saved Emma’s soul, how could I say no?
“You want me to fight for you, win this tournament, and in exchange, you’ll tear up the contract Emma made with you?”
“Precisely.”
I studied his face, watching for any sign he was playing me. There weren’t any, but Morningstar was a master of masking his emotions. “If you destroy the contract, what happens to me? I don’t turn into a ghoul?”
Morningstar sighed as if he’d been asked to
explain calculus to a worm. “No, idiot. Your recovery was bought and paid for already. Why do you think I have a new body?” He gestured to himself.
I put two and two together. There had been a few ways I could’ve ensured I didn’t complete my transformation, but none of them were good. They all had one thing in common though. The virus had to be pulled into someone or something else. Either I’d have to give up a large part of my own body through amputation, or we could’ve put the virus in another living person and then killed the person. Khaleda had suggested a baby, which tells you just about everything you need to know about her. Morningstar agreed with her.
I blinked at him. “You pulled the virus into your old body and then destroyed the body.”
He shrugged. “Of course.”
I didn’t know whether to be sick or relieved.
Emma stepped forward to grab my arm. “Laz, don’t do it. Making deals with this asshole is how we got into this mess. Making another won’t make things better.”
I gave her a wink and a smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this one. I can’t just stand by while he fucks with my friends. What good are all these powers if I can’t use them to bust a few heads and win back a few souls from the bad guys?” I turned to Morningstar. “I’m in, on one condition. You tell me everything you know about the disease-riddled body that showed up at the morgue.”
“While I don’t mind a good bargain, you are trying my patience.” He crossed his arms. “I’m not amending the agreement with a dozen conditions. You take it or leave it. Her soul in exchange for my win. Yes or no?”
Emma’s hand squeezed my arm. There was no question in my mind. I had to do it for her.
“Yes.”
Emma let go of me and stormed forward, kicking aside pillows to stand over Morningstar. “I want in too.”
“Emma, no!” She might’ve been fierce, and a damn good shot, but she was no match for the monsters we’d be facing in those fights.
She turned to give me one of her signature glares. “I have the right to fight for my own soul. I want in.”
Morningstar grinned up at her. “Done. Now, let’s go meet the rest of your team.”
Chapter Five
As soon as we ducked out of the tent, we found Freya blocking our path. She stood with her arms crossed, eyebrows raised, hip canted to one side like a woman expecting an apology. Worse, she looked like she expected it from me. She didn’t spare a glance at anyone else.
“Ah, Freya,” Morningstar said with a smile and a slight bow. “You look lovely as ever.”
“Can it, suck-up,” she snapped back. “I’m here for the Horseman, not you.”
I blinked. “Uh, have I missed something? I don’t think we’ve met.”
“Bullshit. You blew me off out front.”
Ah, that. Some gods were picky about protocol. I’d hightailed it out of there before she could catch up to me because a chat with the Norse goddess of sex, gold, and war didn’t seem like it’d be in my best interests. At least Morningstar was a known quantity. I couldn’t trust him, but he didn’t normally try to kill me for no reason. The same couldn’t be said for other gods.
Before I had the chance to formulate a response, Freya grabbed my arm and pulled me away, dragging me through the crowd. I tripped over something but managed to catch myself and looked back to see what I’d fallen over. Turned out to be a guy who’d passed out. He wore a toga and had a bunch of grape leaves in a sort of wreath around his head. My tripping over him woke him up enough that he rolled to one side, threw up, and poured himself another drink that he lifted in a toast to me with a grin. Gods, man.
Freya yanked my arm and pulled me into a small recess in the garden covered in shadow next to a brick house. My back slammed against the bricks, but I didn’t bounce because she pinned me by pressing her body against me.
“Not so tough now, are you?” she purred and leaned in.
“Whoa!” I threw my hands up, blocking her. “No offense, but we just met, and I’m kinda not looking to hook up right now.”
She stuck out her bottom lip. “Are you rejecting me? Am I not good enough for you?”
“No!” Shit. How to handle this without pissing off a goddess with the power to really screw up my life? “I mean, it’s not—”
“Say it’s you and not me, and I’ll rip your balls off,” she growled.
I went rigid. “Uh...” Come on, idiot. Think of something.
Freya leaned in. “Now shut up and pretend I’m seducing you so I can tell you this before Morningstar finds us.”
Oh. Well, now I felt awkward, but at least I wouldn’t have to reject a goddess and suffer her wrath. “Tell me what?”
She rested her lips against my earlobe. “It’s about the body you have in your morgue. Her name was Gala, and she was a Valkyrie.”
I turned my head slightly to look at her. Holy shit. A Valkyrie? They were supposed to be some of the most badass ladies in myth. Whoever had killed her, fought and won. I wasn’t sure I could take a Valkyrie with magic, which put the killer in a much higher weight class.
Freya caressed my jawline. “She wasn’t just any Valkyrie either. She was Thor’s favorite lover.”
This just keeps getting better and better. “Explains the sudden nasty storm. Let me guess. He’s in town looking for vengeance.”
“No,” Freya said, rolling her eyes. “Last I checked, he was in his swimming pool in Santa Barbara, crying into his appletini.”
I tried to picture it and couldn’t. Thor was the one Norse god everybody knew, thanks in part to a popular blockbuster set of films, and everybody knew he was a badass with a magic hammer who didn’t sob into girly drinks.
“If he doesn’t want revenge, then why—”
“He might not, but Loki does. Gala was his on the side, and he’s taking it rather personally.”
I reached up to rub my temples. “Everybody’s fucking everybody. How do you keep it straight? Jesus Christ.”
Freya pursed her lips. “Last I heard, nobody was fucking him.”
“Who?” I stared at her. “You mean...you know what? Never mind. You can tell Loki I’m looking for the killer and I’m happy to hand him over once I find him.”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t want that. See, he believes the person responsible will be at the tournament and is trying to eliminate competition. The one person he can be sure isn’t involved is the Pale Horseman.” She smiled and started rubbing my chest.
“I’ll bite. How does Loki know I’m not involved?”
“Because you couldn’t take Gala. Not even with all that extra Horseman power. She was the fiercest, strongest, and most loyal Valkyrie.” Freya tried to take her hands lower.
I grabbed her by the wrist and pushed her hand away. “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Her eyes flashed gold. “He wants you to fight on his team.”
“He can’t.”
Freya’s head jerked toward Morningstar, who stood at the corner of the house, hands in his pockets, looking bored. She hissed.
Morningstar took a step into the shadows. “He’s already agreed to fight for me.”
She took a step back from me. I let out a relieved breath because her fingernails had grown into claws and she’d started to dig them into my stomach.
“The Game Master is letting you make a bid?” Freya laughed. “Preposterous. You’re not even a god. You’re not even truly immortal! Without that meat suit, you’re just a parasite, a bacterium.”
“Someday, humanity will destroy itself, and bacteria will rule the Earth,” Morningstar said. “Today, the Pale Horseman is mine. Find yourself another mage for your team, Freya.”
“Oh, it’s not my team.” She looked back at me, appraising with her cat-like pupils. “I look forward to seeing you fight, Lazarus. Don’t let poor management get you down.” Freya strode over to Morningstar where she paused and looked him up and down before announcing, “I liked the old suit better.”
Morningstar sig
hed as she strode away. “Goddesses.”
I adjusted my collar. “Seems I’m not the only one losing a popularity contest around here. She doesn’t like you. Wonder why.”
He waved for me to follow. “Gods are petty.”
That was the understatement of the year, but I wasn’t going to agree with him out loud. It’d go to his head. If his ego got any bigger, it wouldn’t be able to fit through doors.
I followed him around the corner and into the house, where the party was still going, though at a slower pace inside compared to outside. Less wild drinking and drunk dancing, more high-culture hobnobbing. People in ball gowns and suits stood around holding crystal wine glasses, chatting under chandeliers. They eyed me as I passed, but none moved to stop me. Judging from the glimpse my Soul Vision provided, they were mostly human, or half-human. It was hard to tell with as fast as those souls were spinning. I’d never seen any move like that. Maybe they were all demigods, or just some breed of monster I had yet to encounter.
I bumped into someone with my next step and started to stumble over an apology, but hesitated when he turned around.
He was maybe five-eight, five-nine, Asian ancestry with perfect hair, perfect teeth, and just the right combination of full lips and chin to make every girl swoon. More than that, he wore the dress code of business casual like he couldn’t take it off. In fact, it was already half off. No shirt, just a crimson blazer and matching bow tie. I’d seen freshly buffed floors that didn’t shine as much as his abs. Guy should’ve been on a poster for some Japanese cologne.
He flashed a smile, clapped a hand down on my shoulder. “No problem. Hey, you look familiar. Do I know you?”
I glanced past him, looking for Morningstar. He seemed to have disappeared into the crowd. Instead, directly in front of Mr. Red Blazer there sat two giant crows in yellow and white tunics with big, straw hats. Between them rested a small table and a game board with flat black and white tiles. One of the crows placed a black tile and picked up a few white ones.
“I don’t think so,” I said to the man.