The Necromancer's Knives

by Jen Kirchner

  “Someone drew on him,” I said. My voice sounded so far away.

  Mikelis’s voice sounded dangerous. “What?”

  I could tell that what I said had meant something to him. Something important. I pictured the deep, bloody slashes drawn on Cody’s skin. So familiar. Like art. Swirls and tangles. Beautiful and horrifying. Like a song that should never be sung.

  “They drew on Cody,” I whispered. “On his body.”

  Mikelis was shouting something. He sounded scared. I couldn’t make out his words. The world swayed, and everything went black.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Kari?”

  I blinked open my eyes and Mikelis’s face swam into focus. His hand was strong and warm, cradling the back of my head, but his expression was grim.

  The sun still burned high in the sky, so I couldn’t have been out for too long. Red and blue lights blinked out on the street. I heard the rumblings of a crowd gathered on the street, just on the other side of my access spell.

  According to Death Radar, a group of immortals was in the bushes with Cody’s body. I didn’t recognize most of their names. I knew Uncle Rick, of course, and Lumi, who was Luucas’s right hand and Uncle Rick’s training officer, and Intelligence officers Ronel and Norayr. I didn’t know anyone else. I heard bits and pieces of an argument nearby. They used official cop words like jurisdiction and asshole.

  “I threw up on the crime scene,” I mumbled.

  “I know.” Mikelis said. “It’s okay.”

  I tried to sit up and the world spun. Mikelis pulled me back against his chest and rested my head against his shoulder.

  “Don’t say anything.” His tone sounded more cautionary than affectionate.

  I took a deep breath. My throat felt raw, and my mouth tasted sour from bile.

  “There are others,” I said. “More dead around the house. Four more.”

  “I know. But we can’t let the police find out. Not yet.”

  “Why?”

  I felt his hand moving through my hair. Gentle. Soothing. Slow. He bent his head down and pressed his mouth against my ear. “The police don’t know what’s going on. They’ll think I did it.”

  I looked up at him. “Why?”

  He tightened his hold around me. “This is how a necromancer gets past an access spell.”

  My brain stuttered, trying to understand what he was saying. “But you didn’t—you don’t need—my dad doesn’t—”

  He gently cut me off. “Kari. There’s another necromancer.”

  My fingers clutched his T-shirt. I wanted to speak, but my mouth wouldn’t work.

  He said, “I was so mad at you that I didn’t take the time to listen and put the pieces together.” He sounded bitter and angry. Was he directing it at me or himself? “That’s why your fans were killed. They must have had something personal of yours. The items will be buried around your house, with pieces of their owners.”

  I remembered my band’s meeting with the FBI. They said the killer had severed different parts from each victim.

  “Human necromancers need the extra power that comes from a symbol of death. That’s good news for us.”

  My stomach felt incredibly sick. “Why Cody?” I asked.

  “The fifth kill has to be someone you have an intense emotional connection to.”

  Everything clicked. The girl at the airport who attacked Brad with a knife—she wasn’t a crazy stalker. She was a necromancer.

  “And when she couldn’t kill Brad…” My voice trailed off.

  “She went after Cody. I saw what happened on the red carpet in Las Vegas,” Mikelis murmured. “Cody was a good substitute.”

  “But I’m not in love with Cody,” I said, numb from shock. “It was just a kiss.”

  “But as soon as he kissed you, he knew the truth about you. At that moment, you were emotionally invested in him.” He gazed at the commotion on the street. “Clever. I bet the sacrificial knife thought of it.”

  “What do I do?”

  Obviously, the necromancer wants to kill me. Right? There’s a special power a necromancer gains from killing another necromancer. Between my dad, Mikelis, and me, I’m the weakest—by far. It makes the most sense to come after me.

  But it didn’t make sense that I was passed out on my lawn, completely vulnerable, and they left me alive. Mikelis must have been thinking the same thing.

  “I searched your house before conservators and Intelligence arrived, but the necromancer was long gone. Nothing seemed missing or destroyed. The lab door had been forced open, but your knives were still on the counter.”

  My overwhelmed brain slogged through the barrage of information. It seemed so unreal. But something Mikelis said was wrong—very wrong. I was still trying to figure it out when he lifted me out of his lap and stood.

  And then it hit me. I grabbed his hand. “Wait. My knives. Rambo.”

  Mikelis crouched back down next to me. “What about Rambo?”

  “You said my knives were on the counter, but Rambo was in the box. On the table.”

  We stared at each other. He said nothing for a moment, but I could tell by the look in his eyes that something was wrong. Did he not see Rambo? How was that possible? Rambo was massive and terrifying.

  Mikelis nodded slowly. “I might have just missed it. I wasn’t in your house for more than a few minutes. Mostly, I was worried about you.” He looked away. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Don’t answer any questions or let anyone onto the property until I come back.”

  I released his hand and watched him walk halfway up the driveway, cut across the lawn, and jog up the porch. He never looked back at me.

  Climbing to my feet took effort. I had to lean on my car just to keep my balance. Nadia had calmed down, but she still looked like an angry black blob as she stared at me, slit-eyed, from the back of her carrier. I closed my eyes and breathed in slowly.

  A familiar voice cut through my panic. “Hey, kiddo. Are you okay?”

  I opened my eyes and turned around. Uncle Rick stood at the edge of the driveway, just outside of the access spell. His hand rested against the barrier he couldn’t see, unable to come through. Marcus hadn’t added his fingerprint into my new access spell.

  I walked down to where he stood but stayed inside the safety of my spell. “I’m sorry, Uncle Rick. I want to let you in here, but it would make a lot of commotion.”

  I’d either have to put his fingerprint into the spell, which would cause me to smoke like crazy, or hit the gate button, which would allow anyone to come in. I didn’t want either, so Uncle Rick had to stand outside like a stranger.

  “I’m used to it,” he said.

  “That just makes it worse.”

  He shook his head, as if dismissing a lifetime of secrets and exclusion. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “I swear I didn’t do it.”

  Uncle Rick nodded. “I know.”

  I whispered the next part. “There’s another necromancer. We didn’t realize it until now.”

  He raised his eyebrows, but he didn’t comment, wanting me to continue.

  I licked my lips and tasted dirt and dried blood. “Marcus extended my dating contract with Cody, so he came home with us. We were supposed to have a date tonight.”

  “You landed at a private airfield. Where did Cody go after that?”

  I shook my head. “I have no idea. He had a car waiting. They went off in another direction.”

  “They?”

  “Yeah, Cody and his bodyguard, Walkie-Talkie. I don’t know his name. I just call him Walkie-Talkie. Black guy. Huge. Wears all black. Keeps a radio on his belt.”

  “Hence the nickname.” Uncle Rick gave me a gentle smile. It was the kind of smile a police officer would wear to make a person feel more comfortable talking.

  His training as a conservator was really showing. Plus, whatever grievances he had with the family keeping him out of the loop seemed to be put aside for now. Given how emotionally strung-out I felt,
I truly appreciated it.

  “I went to pick up my cat from Heraclitus.” I tried choking back a sob. “When I came home, he was here, in the bushes.”

  “Dead,” Uncle Rick clarified.

  I nodded yes.

  “That’s very helpful,” he said. “I’m curious about something, though. How did you not know there was another necromancer? I’ve heard that Mikelis can always feel another necromancer in the channel, so I assumed you could, too.”

  I sighed miserably. Everything made sense now. “A few months ago, I obtained a necromancer power—not by killing someone. When I’m near my dad and Mikelis, the channel is so crammed that it gives me a headache. I honestly thought the problem was the power I’d gained. The necromancer must have arrived in Rochester at the same time I did, so we all thought the extra stuffing in the channel was me.”

  He jotted some notes in a tiny spiral pad. He looked back to me, then up at my forehead. “How’s your head?”

  “Why? Do I look bad?”

  “You have a big bump, and it looks like you scraped your cheek, but you’ll live.”

  I wished I could hug him. “Thanks.”

  Before we could say more, a car horn blared, bringing everyone’s conversations to a screeching halt. A beat-up black Mazda 626 navigated its way through the spectators, reporters, and badly parked cars. The driver’s window was down, and Luucas’s head was sticking out. He was shouting at people to get out of the way.

  My car blocked the end of the driveway, so Luucas had to park behind me, jutting out into the street. Immortals and local police emerged from the bushes to see what the commotion was about. Luucas climbed out of the car. His eyes made a cool, calculated sweep of the scene, taking in every little detail.

  Uncle Rick walked over to him and whispered something. Luucas’s head snapped in my direction. Before he could stomp over, Norayr Hakobyan intercepted him.

  The general ruckus of the crowd had picked up again so I couldn’t hear the conversation between Luucas and Norayr. Whatever it was, it escalated quickly. Norayr threw back his broad shoulders. Luucas drew himself up even taller. His eyes bugged out, and his gesturing became more aggravated.

  While the argument ensued, Ronel snuck around to the far side of Luucas’s car, opened the back passenger door, and flipped open a box top.

  “Hey,” I shouted, “get out of Luucas’s car!”

  Thanks to my profession, my yell had the subtlety of a bullhorn. Conversations paused. Everyone turned to look at me, then followed my eye line to Ronel, who was pointing at an open cardboard box.

  “This is property of the Immortal State.” It must have been a big deal, because she was yelling in her most official voice.

  Luucas spun around. His eyes widened and he folded his arms across his chest. He looked official. Sounded official. “Stand back. That’s part of an investigation.”

  “This is theft,” she retorted. “It is part of a historic site.”

  “Step away from my car, Ronel.”

  Luucas took a step toward Ronel, like he was going to run after her, but Norayr clamped a hand down on Luucas’s arm. The world seemed to slow down.

  As if sensing the confrontation, Lumi came running from the bushes. Norayr stepped up to Luucas and sneered while he said something in Luucas’s ear. Luucas’s teeth ground together, and he pivoted.

  Uncle Rick lunged for them. He didn’t make it in time.

  Luucas’s fist smashed into Norayr’s thick jaw. Norayr’s head snapped back, and he staggered. Flecks of blood and saliva flew from his mouth.

  I’m not experienced with fights, but I know a lot about performing. It was clear to me that Norayr was playing up the damage. He wanted everyone to see that Luucas was the aggressor.

  As Uncle Rick and other conservators rushed in to separate them, human officers and paramedics in the vicinity backed off fast. One of the paramedics grabbed a slender black extinguisher. They hustled to where Norayr’s blood had landed and started spraying the ground with a neon pink foam. The foam would kill the active agents in the immortal blood and stop it from spreading. Even from this distance, I could feel the magic in the blood flicker and die.

  Lumi circled around the car, where Ronel was still rifling through the boxes in the back seat. She glanced at the contents, and her face fell. She looked up at Luucas. “Is this what I think it is?”

  Luucas didn’t answer. He looked furious, frustrated, and a tad embarrassed at being physically restrained by a junior conservator.

  Lumi looked back down at the boxes crammed into the back seat, then ran a hand over her hair. She was a tiny Asian woman with a big personality. For a century, she’d been Luucas’s right hand and commanded a lot of respect from the Immortal community.

  For the first time since I’d met her, I saw her looking tired and defeated. She turned and walked around Luucas’s car. As she came into view, I saw the silver cuffs in her hand.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered.

  “It was bound to happen,” Mikelis said, as he walked up from behind. “Everything inside the voodoo bunker is protected by laws that govern preservation of historic sites. He can’t remove that crap without a permit.”

  Everyone watched Lumi handcuff Luucas. The only sounds were the rapid clicks of cameras. Lumi didn’t need to say why she was arresting Luucas. Between raiding the voodoo bunker and punching the head of Immortal Intelligence, a lawyer was going to have a hell of a time defending him.

  Speaking of a lawyer… I ran back to the lawn, where I’d passed out, and searched around for my cell phone. I fired off a few messages to Marcus. I had no idea if he could help, but it was worth a shot.

  As I was finishing my messages, Mikelis wrapped a hand around my arm. “There’s nothing we can do about Luucas right now. We have a bigger problem.”

  “Like what?” I whispered. “Like you’ll be wrongly implicated in Cody’s death?”

  He slid an arm around my waist and pulled me against his chest. His lips tickled my ear and set my skin on fire, but his words made my blood run cold.

  “No, Kari. The necromancer stole Rambo.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The inside of my house felt wrong. Nothing looked out of place or broken, the air smelled normal, and I saw no smoke, necromancer or otherwise. I still felt violated. My skin crawled with the knowledge that a stranger had penetrated my sanctuary. I didn’t know if I’d ever sleep soundly in my home again.

  The lab door was already open. Scorch marks marred its warped surface. The deadbolt and doorknob were in twisted and broken pieces on the floor.

  Whatever spells the necromancer had used to open my door weren’t strong enough to get through my dad’s protective posts on the other side; the magic had ricocheted off of the barrier and blasted a hole in the hallway and two more on the ceiling.

  I tore through the open door and the fuzzy barrier of the protective posts and smacked into the table, knocking over one of the stools in the process. The lights were already on. The two teddy bears on the counter each cradled a knife. The cutlery box on the table was empty. Stubby and Longy were staring at me.

  “There’s another necromancer,” I shouted, “and they took Rambo!”

  Smoke wafted around Stubby and Bearilyn Monroe.

  We know.

  “You know?” I blinked. “About which part?”

  Obviously, we were here when she took Rambo.

  A light trail of black essence wound around Longy and Elvis Presbear.

  And we already knew about the other necromancer.

  I dropped my hands at my sides and stared at Longy and Stubby. “You what?”

  Stubby sounded exasperated.

  That’s what we were trying to tell you when you stuck us on these stupid bears! You said you’d be back down here in less than an hour so we could tell you.

  I slapped a hand to my forehead. “How long have you known about the necromancer?”

  Time means little to us, especially when floating in the drawe
r of lacy hell. We knew as soon as she took her first power from The Floor, whenever that was.

  I gave the knife my best glare and felt a mental shrug in return.

  Less than three months ago. Right after you left for your tour.

  My mind raced to put the timeline together. The first fan was murdered four weeks ago. That may have been one of the necromancer’s first sacrifices.

  Honestly, it didn’t tell me much, except that she has the ability to stay under the radar. She either has a network of people who can help keep her hidden from the public eye, or she’s resourceful and vicious. I had a feeling it was the latter.

  “You should have told me as soon as you knew.”

  Smoke wound around Longy and formed a sinister halo around the teddy bear’s head.

  Listen, Kari. We’re not sorry about this. You’re terrible under pressure.

  “I happen to be fantastic under pressure!”

  Remember a couple of days ago when you took me outside?

  I narrowed my eyes at Longy. “When you started screaming your existence to the world as soon as we got to the front porch? Vividly.”

  Yeah! That other necromancer took off running, fleeing the might of Legendary Longy, Terror of the Basement!

  My stomach went straight to my feet. “What?”

  It’s a new title that I’m trying out. I think it’s going to catch on.

  “I’m talking about the other necromancer.”

  Well, you had no access spell and they were hiding around the side of the house, probably in the bushes.

  “They?” I asked.

  The necromancer and her knife. I sensed her knife—that’s how I knew. They were waiting for you, but I was ready for action! You, on the other hand, nearly did a face-plant on the porch. And before you ask why I didn’t shout ‘Necromancer alert!’ it’s because you would have done something even worse, like run screaming in the wrong direction and then get killed.