by Jen Kirchner
Apparently, Norayr had all the benefits of necromancy and none of the drawbacks.
I was suffering from all of the drawbacks. The invasive magic sent me stumbling, and I started dry-heaving again. I pulled Mom away from the charms and took refuge by the forklift. Maybe I could find some keys and drive it?
Norayr’s laughter filled my ears. “Taking your magic and killing you will be the most enjoyable thing I’ve done in a long while. And then I’ll kill your entire family one by one. Perhaps I’ll kill Isadora first, and let you watch.”
I stopped dead in my tracks. A wave of nausea came over me again as another charm slid across the floor. But now, the nausea was the least of my concerns. He’d just threatened my family.
Norayr strolled toward me with a malevolent gleam in his eye and Rambo in his fist.
I didn’t believe in violence, but I was committed to protecting my family regardless of the cost. I had nothing good I could use to defend myself. Miss Sparkles was across the room, and I had no time for another minion. There was only the Scholar’s pool cue and their assurance that it would stop Norayr.
I grabbed the pool cue from Mom, screamed a war cry, and swung.
Rambo’s wicked teeth easily lopped off the top twelve inches of the pool cue and sent it clattering away under the forklift. Norayr flashed a wicked grin and raised Rambo again, but I was already sprinting away.
Luckily, Mom had wandered off and was staring at a stack of empty pallets like they were the Venus de Milo, so she was safe, for now.
I led Norayr in the opposite direction and ended up in the corner by the crate where he’d been keeping the girl. Two charms were still hanging from the crate and I got a little too close. My vision blurred and my head felt like it was going through a spin cycle. I tried kicking the crate away but the wheels were stuck.
Norayr’s laughter was coming closer, pinning me into the corner. Another voodoo charm slid across the floor at me and smacked into the side of my sneaker. I tried kicking it away but my legs weren’t responding. My limbs felt like jelly. Mom was still totally unaware of what was happening, and she was moving around the room, singing. “La… la la. La… la la.”
The edges of my vision were going black. My ears started to ring.
“La… la la. La… la la.”
Staying upright was almost impossible, but I couldn’t let Norayr get my magic. I fell to my hands and knees with the pool cue still clutched in my hand. My head felt like it was being crushed.
Norayr’s shiny shoes stopped at the edge of my vision. He said something but the ringing in my ears was too loud. I lifted my head just enough to see Norayr holding Rambo over me, and Mom hopping behind him, shaking her fist as if she were still tapping the pool cue on the ground.
Tap… tap tap.
Then she stopped and stared at me. Her mouth moved. “Eliana?”
Tap… tap tap.
My head dropped and I stared down at the pool cue. “Eliana.”
Tap… tap tap.
Realization hit me. Groaning, I lifted the stick. I slammed it down, smashing the end onto the concrete.
BAM. BAM BAM!
Energy exploded from the staff. Norayr flew backward and tumbled halfway across the floor. Rambo slid away. The voodoo charms fizzled and died. The gray magic tether between Norayr and the girl dissipated, broken. The girl stirred.
Norayr leapt to his feet. He shook out his hands and scrunched up his fingers like he was trying to cast something, but nothing happened. He glanced at me with an expression of rage, which quickly turned to regret. Then he turned and sprinted out of the warehouse.
I scrambled to my feet. My muscles ached and I was extremely thirsty, like I’d been crawling around in a desert for days. I stumbled after him anyway, through the hole in the door, and I was blinded by the waning sunlight.
Death Radar said Norayr was running across the street. My eyes were starting to adjust, so I sprinted after him.
As I neared the street, a horn blared at me, low and loud from an oncoming semi. I came to a screeching halt with my sneakers skidding on the pavement.
Norayr stopped next to a couple of parked semi trucks and glanced back over his shoulder. His smile was bitter.
A figure in a gigantic gray sweatshirt stepped out from behind one of the trailers, behind Norayr.
The Scholar.
The semi’s horn blared again as it went by, blocking my view. Another semi followed.
When the dust cleared, Norayr was lying on the ground.
The Scholar bent over him.
A massive blue spell string twisted and writhed in the air over their heads. Two beads of blue light appeared over the Scholar’s and Norayr’s heads, swirled slowly down to their necks, and then winked out.
The Scholar stood and faced me. Their hood was still draped over their face, and the inside of the hood looked like a black hole. But instead of trying to peer into the shadow, my gaze went to their chest, where layers upon layers of spell strings were hovering.
No, I realized, not spell strings. They were magical fingerprints. Layers of magical fingerprints, like the Scholar was wearing the identities of hundreds of people.
Another truck horn screamed out at us, tearing my attention away. I took a step back as it blew by. When the truck had passed, the Scholar was gone. Norayr Hakobyan was still on the ground.
From behind, I heard footsteps pounding the asphalt toward me. I started to turn—
The necromancer girl barreled head first into my side, knocking us both to the ground. All of the air whooshed out of my lungs. Before I could even register what was going on, she was on top of me. Rambo was in her tiny fist.
“You bitch!” she screamed. “Give me your magic!”
I grabbed her wrist with both hands and pushed back. I was beyond exhausted. Panic and adrenaline were my only fuel.
She threw all of her weight on me, pushing Rambo closer and closer to my throat.
A shadow covered both of us. I’d been too busy to monitor Death Radar.
I heard Ronel van Niekerk’s voice, layered with something familiar that reverberated in my mind like a telepathic echo.
“Hold still, Kari. I’ve got you.”
The girl’s head snapped back. Her body arched awkwardly. Ronel’s dark-skinned hand came into view between us.
Stubby was clenched in her grip.
Horror seized me as I realized what Stubby was about to do.
“No!” I screamed.
Stubby’s chunky black blade slid across the girl’s skin like butter. Blood sprayed from her throat and splashed across my face, warm and thick and awful.
For the first time, the girl appeared on Death Radar.
I let out a blood-curdling scream. Ronel released the girl, who slumped to the side and tumbled to the pavement next to me. Rambo fell from the girl’s hand. Ronel stumbled away and dropped Stubby, who clattered to the pavement.
Mom emerged from the warehouse, with Uncle Rick and Luucas right behind her. I was still screaming when Uncle Rick hoisted me up into his arms. As he carried me away, I watched my mother drop down beside the dead necromancer and cry bitterly over a girl who wasn’t me.
Epilogue
I had to skip my funeral. Cody’s was held in Chicago a few hours before mine. I managed to catch most of mine on the TV in Cody’s private jet while on my way back to Rochester.
My funeral was broadcast on all Immortal-run television stations and many human stations. In honor of my dad’s origins as a druid, it was held outdoors. There was no casket, as Immortal bodies are always cremated.
So, the necromancer girl that Stubby killed was burned to ash and placed in a small, ornate box with handcrafted gold details.
My mother bawled her eyes out for the first half of the funeral. My dad seemed to be the only thing keeping her upright. Halfway through Grandpa’s touching eulogy, Mom stopped crying. She looked confused. She turned a slow circle, gathering herself. She looked up at Dad, as if to say, “What are w
e doing here?” Then she turned around and walked off.
Later, Marcus told a reporter that everyone grieves in different ways.
By the time I got back to my house, the sun had set. The cul-de-sac was dark and quiet. According to Death Radar, Mikelis was the only one on the block, and he was in my house. Luucas had either gotten stuck at the reception or he had gone straight to work.
I pulled up the driveway and parked behind Mikelis’s car. I hit the garage remote, grabbed my purse, and climbed out.
I was grabbing my luggage from the trunk when Luucas pulled up. He pulled into the garage and got out. Guessing from his attire, he’d just left my funeral. He was wearing the customary charcoal gray with small touches of gold. I’d never seen that fancy gold watch on his wrist before, but it didn’t surprise me. Funerals are extremely rare for the Immortal State, and most Immortals keep a special gold item just for that purpose.
He held up a small stack of mail.
A lump formed in my throat. I had to cough twice to clear it.
“I, uh, couldn’t go to the mailbox,” I said.
I didn’t want to explain why, but I was pretty sure I didn’t need to. Every time I looked at the mailbox, I saw Cody’s mutilated body.
Luucas didn’t press me for an explanation, he just nodded with understanding. His voice was soft. “Yeah, I figured. I can get it until you’re feeling up to it.” He pointed in the direction of the street. “We could also move the mailbox a little closer to the neighbors’ mailboxes. They won’t mind.”
I nodded.
Thankfully, Luucas seemed to understand my mood and changed the subject. He walked out of the garage and sat on the trunk of Mikelis’s Camry. “Good news: your funeral was a big hit. There’s a lot of sympathy for a young girl who was driven to necromancy in order to survive in a hostile world.”
I frowned, but Luucas continued before I could bring the mood back down.
“And things are going back to normal in the Immortal State. No one’s talking about evicting us anymore.”
I noticed that he didn’t say everything had gone back to normal. It was probably more accurate to say that everyone was retreating to their sides and watching what happens.
“For now,” I said.
Luucas nodded. “For now. But contingency plans for Immortal citizens in my jurisdiction can wait until next week. Principal Conservators have a conference call to throw out ideas.”
I couldn’t keep the smirk out of my voice. “You’re not waiting for the Council to provide you with a plan?”
Luucas barked a laugh. “You know as well as I do that the Council isn’t good with practical matters. If we wait for the Council to figure out a plan, we’ll be waiting forever. That’s why Principals act now and ask forgiveness later.”
Death Radar flickered with movement. I glanced in the direction of the new signal.
“So, if everyone thinks Eliana’s dead, what’s Ronel doing parked across the street in the same place where she and Norayr used to stake out my house?” I folded my arms across my chest. “Is she building a case to prove that I’m the real Eliana Rendon? Is she going to fill out evidence forms in triplicate?”
A smile stretched across Luucas’s face. He looked a lot like the cat that ate the canary. “Ronel isn’t going to tell a soul who you are.”
I was momentarily speechless. “Huh?”
Somehow, Luucas’s smile got bigger. Triumphant. “Ronel’s a career Intelligence officer with experience in dealing with necromancers and voodoo practitioners. Despite that, she allowed herself to get close to what she knew was a necromancer’s knife. And she picked it up.”
His brows lifted high on his forehead, as if there was some meaning in there that I was missing.
“Oh!” I was so excited that I practically shouted it. Then I slapped a hand over my mouth. I whispered the next part. “No one knows that she was holding Stubby when she killed the necromancer.”
Ronel had compromised herself, knowing what might happen if she picked up a necromancer’s knife. She—and the rest of the world—is lucky that Stubby only wanted to protect me. Stubby could have used Ronel to start a murder spree, and then we’d probably still be looking for them instead of standing in this driveway, having a nice chat.
That wasn’t going to change how upset I was with Stubby, though. I’d barely spoken to the knife in the last couple of days. I probably wouldn’t touch it for a long time, either.
Luucas said, “Ronel’s job is everything to her. She’s going to keep your secret, and we’re going to keep hers.”
“That still doesn’t explain what she’s doing here. Is she keeping an eye on us?”
“Mostly me.” He shifted on his feet and leaned against my car. “I’m not dropping my case—I’m going to find the person behind Ruairí O’Bryne.”
Part of me wanted to bang my head against a wall, but the other part of me understood. In the tunnels, Ronel had confirmed Luucas’s theory—and my mom’s prophecy—that there was someone bigger behind the voodoo master.
Luucas continued. “Ruairí and his secret benefactor murdered a lot of innocent people, and that benefactor will pay for their crimes.”
“And the Council wants to make sure you don’t embarrass them with your investigation.”
“That.” He grimaced. “And it’s the perfect way to train her new partner.”
The way he’d said it had me raising an eyebrow at him. “What partner?”
“Henri Boisseau.”
Oh, goody.
Luucas said, “We never formally charged him, and no one knows he attacked your uncle…” His voice trailed off.
“And he knows who I am, so we’re going to keep each other’s secrets.”
What a disaster.
I glared at him. “Do you think you made things worse when you pestered my mom for information about your case?”
His brows pinched into a frown. “What do you mean?”
“I mean the Seer’s Curse. By pushing my mom to use her gifts, you were leading us all down a path that ended in epic disaster.”
“But it didn’t end in epic disaster.”
I threw up my hands. “People died! Norayr Hakobyan got Mindwiped. There was almost another world war. The Immortal State nearly got evicted from every human country around the world.”
“But most of that didn’t happen, and it mostly worked out. As for Norayr and the girl—they both made terrible decisions and went down paths they knew were dangerous. It had nothing to do with pushing Isadora to give me more information about my investigation.”
I stared at him, mouth agape. “I’m raising your rent $40 a month,” I declared, and turned and marched into the garage.
“What?” he shouted. “Why? Because of Isadora? You can’t raise my rent!”
I grabbed the door handle. “Because of my mom, and because you’re disgusting. The basement is gross. Mikelis says he knows a cleaner that’s reliable, trustworthy, and won’t go into any locked rooms that they aren’t supposed to.”
His low grumble followed me across the garage. “You know I’m sorry about the panic room. I shouldn’t have gone in there, and I swear I won’t do it again.”
I didn’t respond. I just opened the kitchen door and stepped into the house.
“Hey, wait. Will they do laundry, too?”
I set down my luggage and dropped my purse on the kitchen counter, then followed Mikelis’s signal on Death Radar to the living room. When I got there, I realized Luucas was already right behind me. Stupid long legs.
“Mikelis, do you think Luucas made everything worse by pestering my mom and stirring up the Seer’s Curse?”
Mikelis was on a ladder, drilling a sturdy silver pole into my ceiling. He didn’t even pause before answering.
“Absolutely.”
Luucas waved us away, as if dismissing our absurd idea. He started yammering on about how we couldn’t name one life-scarring incident beyond Norayr and the necromancer girl—and that they wou
ld have met their demise on their own.
As Mikelis came down the ladder, I realized that my furniture had all been pushed away to make room for the silver pole, which was heavily reinforced into my ceiling.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “What’s this pole?”
“Special request,” Mikelis said as he put his drill back into its case. “I am obligated to comply.”
Moons burst through the patio door. He was wearing black running pants and a blue tank top, and was carrying two large suitcases and a duffel bag.
“Hi,” I said, feeling confused.
“Sir,” Luucas said, with a polite nod.
Mikelis flashed a knowing smile, grabbed his toolbox and drill case, and brushed a quick kiss against my lips. “I’ll call you later.”
“You aren’t staying?” I asked.
He snickered. “No.”
I couldn’t help but be offended, and slightly worried. Mikelis had never run away from me like this before.
Luucas, ever dutiful, straightened and faced Moons. “Do you need a ride to the airport, sir?”
Moons dropped the suitcases, then pulled the duffel bag from around his torso and tossed it onto the sofa. “No, I am moving in!”
I whirled around so fast that I almost gave myself whiplash. “You are?”
Moons nodded. His expression was solemn. “I did not like being away from the action and only finding out later that you were in trouble.” His face brightened, like it usually does when he has a big idea. “I will take the upstairs bedroom.”
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and set it down on the piano. After a single tap, the phone started to crank out a heavy electronic beat.
“And of course,” Moons said, “I will practice my pole dancing! Mikelis is going to rent me a building where I can open a studio.”
He pulled the tank top over his head, revealing his bare chest. Dark skin. Ribs. Gold pasties.
Ever the professional, Luucas tried to smother his startled reaction, but he failed. “Eewergh,” he said.
Moons reached down and grabbed the fabric of his pant legs. They looked like the breakaway pants used by athletes and those Thunder from Down Under guys. The moment felt surreal, like it was happening in slow motion. I knew what was about to happen, but I was powerless to stop it.