by E. A. Copen
Shapeshifters maybe. What I knew about shapeshifters couldn’t fill a teacup, but I assumed they were affected by some sort of supernatural virus. That’s what’d nearly done me in as a ghoul, so it made sense that shapeshifters would be dealing with something similar. A virus that changed them on the cellular level, giving them the ability to change shape. I’d spied a few shifters at Morningstar’s party, and again hanging around the arena. They weren’t easy to pick out in their human forms, but some of them preferred walking around in a grotesque looking half-form caught somewhere between a human and their chosen animal. Understandably so. A seven-foot-tall tiger on two legs was a lot scarier than one on four. Of course, the weretiger had lost in the first round, which meant they were out. If Pestilence was killing to help that group, it hadn’t worked.
I needed to do some digging on the other teams and to do that I’d have to start talking to them or find someone who knew more about the teams than I did. That description fit just about everyone at the tournament besides me. Morningstar seemed familiar with a lot of them, but I wanted to talk to him about as much as I wanted kidney failure. Khaleda was only slightly more tolerable conversation. Haru had basically told me I was on my own so I couldn’t go to him, and Emma would know even less than me. My list of allies at the tournament was painfully short.
Persephone might help, though she’s already stuck her neck out for me once. I didn’t want to ask more from her, not unless I had no other choice. Talking to the other teams might be my best bet. Plus, it would give me the opportunity to size up the competition.
I made it back to the arena entrance and slipped inside. A qualifying round had just ended and the arena employees were scraping the remains of an elephant-sized aurochs off the ground. It was covered in frost like freezer burnt meat. I shuddered. Whatever had done that, I didn’t want to meet. A lot more trees had been felled since the last match I’d seen, leaving a gaping hole on the arena floor. Someone had hurled a huge boulder against the mountain. It remained frozen against the peak. Blood dripped from where it met the mountain.
“Ah, Lazarus. Good timing,” Morningstar said at my approach. “I trust you got things ironed out with Ms. Knight?”
I hadn’t, but he didn’t need to know that. “Khaleda fight yet?”
He nodded toward the arena. “She’s up next.”
The crowd erupted in applause as I took my seat and I strained my eyes to get a good look at the man who had walked into the arena. From where I sat, he was barely a speck below.
Morningstar lifted a pair of binoculars to his eyes and muttered a curse. “Bloody moron. What’s he doing?”
“Let me see,” Nikki whined.
He passed the binoculars to her.
“A cowboy?”
“Not just any cowboy,” Morningstar grumbled. “Only an idiot puts their ranged in for the qualifying round.”
I held my hand out and Nikki passed the binoculars to me. The man who had walked into the arena was aged, easily over fifty with long silver hair tucked under a big hat. He wore a leather duster that looked out of place off the set of a western film and a dusty old cowboy hat to match. Silver spurs spun on the back of worn boots. A pair of silver six-shooters hung around his waist.
“So much for Sasquatch,” I said. “Who’s this guy?”
“Not a guy,” Morningstar growled. “That would be Martha Jane Canary. Better known as Calamity Jane.”
“The Calamity Jane?” My hair stood on end. The famous sharpshooting, hard-drinking cowgirl who’d taken up with Wild Bill Hickock was probably the last person I’d expected to see fighting down in that arena. Yet here she was. Scrutinizing the face, I could see it. She wasn’t pretty and had features chiseled from stone, but the rough edges of a woman tested by the Wild West were there. “What’s she doing here?”
Morningstar sighed. “She made a deal with Coyote many years ago. Immortality in exchange for service. It’s common enough. But Coyote isn’t as generous with his deals as I am. He’s well known for twisting them to his own advantage.”
As if you don’t do that, I thought but kept my mouth shut.
“She’s a drunkard,” Morningstar continued. “But a crack shot if what I’ve heard is true.”
I lowered the binoculars and blinked as Khaleda in a red catsuit emerged from the tree line. “Think Khaleda can take her?”
“It will come down to a contest of accuracy. Khaleda is fast, but no one is faster than a bullet. Her first cut will have to be good.”
Calamity Jane stopped walking and planted her big feet wide, hands resting just inches from the guns on either side of her hip. I couldn’t see the expression on Khaleda’s face, but I imagined her smirking at the challenge. She drew two knives and held them so that the blade was flush against the outside of her arms, like a very sharp second flesh.
A horn blew.
Calamity Jane drew and pulled the trigger.
A black obsidian knife sailed through the air…and wedged itself into a tree stump next to Jane. Khaleda had missed the throw.
Khaleda’s body jerked as the bullet caught her somewhere in the upper torso and laid her out flat in the snow. The crowd cheered. Morningstar cursed.
Jane turned and took a bow.
But she’d given up the fight too soon. With a howl of frustration, Khaleda pushed herself away from the ground, blood seeping from a wound on the side of her neck. The bullet had only grazed her. She rushed Jane, dagger raised.
Jane aimed her guns and fired, bang, bang, bang. Fire exploded from the guns with each bark and snow exploded. Tree bark split, the bullet slamming into the place where Khaleda had been just a fraction of a second before.
Khaleda dropped to the ground as she closed in on Calamity Jane, sliding on her knees in the packed ice. She grabbed the second dagger from the ground as she passed and slashed at Jane’s ankles. Lines of crimson appeared in the snow and Jane tumbled to her knees. Khaleda rose while Jane scrambled to drop more bullets into her guns. She finished the reload and snapped up her gun, pulling the trigger. Khaleda swung her knives. A metallic ting cut through the breathless silence in the arena as the flurry of blades deflected the bullet. Two more steps. Jane’s left-handed gun jerked, but no bullet flew. Misfire.
Khaleda sank the first knife into the tender flesh between Jane’s neck and shoulder. The second swept gracefully across the front of Jane’s throat. Two Peacemakers tumbled to the snow as Jane instinctually tried to stem the flow of blood coating the front of her. She peered up at Khaleda with a look of disbelief before falling into the bloody now.
The crowd screamed and cheered. Morningstar rose and clapped followed by Nikki.
I frowned and watched a legend’s soul leave her body, joining with the dozens of others trapped in the arena. I should’ve been happy. The victory brought me one step to concluding this deal with Morningstar and securing Emma’s soul. Instead, it left me feeling hollow. More red colored the ground than white now, and not even the cleaners would be able to mask that fact. How much of my blood, of Emma’s blood, would paint the arena floor before I finished the deal? If Pestilence didn’t kill one of us first.
Shit. I jumped to my feet. Emma was on her own in our apartments, totally unguarded aside from having Spot with her. If Pestilence wanted to start whittling our team down, killing her and Spot would be a good place to start. It wouldn’t take us out of the game, but it’d be almost certain that we wouldn’t make it to the final round if we were down two teammates.
Staff in hand, I rushed from the arena before Khaleda even made it to the exit. I had to get back to check on Emma.
The hallways were a maze, and I had to stop and ask for directions from security three times before I finally made it back to our apartments. Emma wasn’t in the main area, so I went to the bedroom door and flung it open. “Emma!”
No Emma there.
I went to the bathroom and practically took the door off the hinges looking for her. Empty. Shit, where would she be?
L
aughter from the hall made me go back to the entry door and pull it open. My heart jumped into my throat at the sight of Emma walking arm in arm with Loki, her smile radiant. Spot walked along beside them, all three heads panting blissfully.
“Lazarus,” Loki beamed. “I thought you’d be watching the fight. Your team was scheduled to have their qualifying round about now I thought.”
I leaned against the door frame and crossed my arms. What the hell was she doing with the Norse god of mischief? Better yet, what was he doing with her? “Just saw it. We won.”
“That’s good news! You should celebrate. Actually, there will be a victor’s banquet in my hall this evening.” He looked at Emma, smile widening. “I’d be honored if you would join me.”
I cleared my throat.
Loki looked up, his big smile fading. “Oh, you’re invited too. Bring Morningstar and Khaleda too. The more, the merrier.”
“Sure,” I grumbled. “There with bells on.”
“Until then…” He kissed Emma’s hand and stepped back.
She watched him walk away.
My jaw clenched watching her watch him. “What’s with that guy?”
“Loki?” Emma shrugged. “He’s just being polite. Besides, I’m sure whatever the Norse are having for their victory feast is going to be better than the terrible meal they served us earlier.” She practically floated past me through the door.
Spot padded after her and immediately went to pee on the fake tree in the corner. Big and threatening, yes. Smart, no.
I closed the door to the main area behind me and followed Emma into the bedroom we shared. “I mean what were you doing with him?”
The bed squeaked as she sat on it. “Talking mostly. I went to ask him about Gala. As it turns out, there was nothing between them. Guy’s totally dedicated to his wife. He’s here as a favor to his brother. I guess Thor really is pretty broken up about her death. He wanted to come and just start interrogating people with is hammer until someone admitted to it. Loki convinced him to let him find out who was behind things, which is why he’s here.”
“I don’t buy it. He’s the Norse god of mischief, Emma. He doesn’t just tell the truth. He tells you whatever gets him whatever he wants.”
She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “And what is it you think he wants, Lazarus?”
“I don’t know, but I know I don’t like him all over you like that.”
Emma dropped her hand and gave me a look of disbelief. “Really? You’re going to be jealous over a little flattery? Laz, you realize we’re not a thing, right?”
I swallowed. Ouch, that stung. I knew I’d screwed things up the other night during the power outage, but I hadn’t thought I crossed a line. “Yeah, of course.”
“The other night…let’s chalk it up to poor judgment.”
“Totally.” A second, harder blow to the ego. Damn. What’d I done that was so bad seeing me was poor judgment now?
“I meant what I did. I didn’t mean to lead you on or anything. I absolutely overstepped and put undue pressure on you.”
Um…what? That was a three-sixty turn in the conversation, going from telling me I was overreacting to assuming all the blame. Women had always confused the hell out of me, but this was something new. I couldn’t tell if she was being straight with me or if this was a jab. Either way, saying something felt like it’d get me in trouble. Well, further into trouble.
Emma met my eyes, her gaze hard. Underneath that harsh look, pain hid. Why?
“You should have told me you were with Khaleda.”
“Whoa there. Time out.” I made a T with my hands. “In no universe would I ever…” Except I had. Ok, back up. Retreat. About face and try again. “Is this about what Morningstar said before? Because you know he was just pushing your buttons.”
She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and paused to take a breath. “It’s not just about Morningstar. It explains a lot. When you were hunting the Archon, your distance. Your willingness to go with them. It all adds up.”
“No.” I pointed emphatically to her. “Don’t go there. It wasn’t like that. Yes, I slept with her, but it wasn’t like that. It was business. I had to charge the blade for the spell, and that was the easiest, fastest way. The only way where nobody got hurt. Fuck, if I’d known it was going to be this big a deal, I’d never have done it.”
“She’s a monster!” Emma found her feet, her hands gripping her pillow. “You went to her with everything and left me in the dark! And here I’ve spent the last few months thinking you cared. Instead, you’re zoned out half the time when I’m talking to you. Yet as soon as she’s in the room, you can’t help yourself.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I spread my arms wide. “I’m not here for her. I’m here for you. You don’t want to appreciate that, fine.”
“I don’t need you to be my goddamn savior, Lazarus!”
“Then what the fuck do you want from me? You want a list of every girl I’ve been with? Fine. I’ll give it to you. Might surprise you how short it really is. You want me to back off and give you your space? Fine. I can do that too. Just tell me what you want!”
Emma cast the pillow back to the bed. “I don’t know what the hell I want!”
“Great! Now we’re getting somewhere!”
The door to the main room crashed open and Khaleda limped in, a bloody hand on her shoulder. “Would you two shut the hell up?” she snarled. “I could hear your lover’s spat all the way down the hall. Quit bitching at each other and just screw already. This whole ‘will you, won’t you’ crap is pissing me off!”
A zipper groaned, and the skin-tight catsuit slid down, revealing Khaleda’s shoulders and upper back. She let out a string of curses that’d make a church lady faint and stomped into the bathroom. Spot whined and went to sit outside the door, wagging his doggie tail.
Morningstar entered on her heels and gave us a quizzical look. “Our first round is against a group of Celts. Their mage is a druid. I’m putting you in with Spot and Emma, Lazarus. Do try to work out whatever is going on between you before then. You’ve got…” He pushed up his sleeve to glance at a gold watch. “…A little under twelve hours. I suggest you get some sleep.”
I glanced at the bed across from Emma and frowned. As pissed off as we both were, sleep wasn’t exactly on my mind. Plus, I still needed to talk to the other teams to try and drum up some evidence against Pestilence and try one more time to convince Nikki to go back to her brother.
I nodded to Morningstar. “What about you? You still need a guard.”
“I volunteer,” Emma ground out. She wasn’t happy about guard duty, but she was probably desperate to get away from the awkwardness in the room. I knew I was.
“No need.” Morningstar dismissed the idea with a wave. “I’m going to go help my daughter dig a bullet out of her shoulder and then spend a few hours with Nicole. She’s dreadfully lonely. Khaleda can accompany me.”
Emma’s hands flexed into fists. “I don’t need coddling just because I’m human. I’m better suited for bodyguard duty than anyone else.”
“I’m aware. Unfortunately, Khaleda needs to heal, and you’ve indicated your non-interest in participating in that process. Nicole, however, is quite willing.” He smirked.
The bastard. Well, that explained a few things. He was using Nicole as a food source for Khaleda since he’d failed to back me into it. According to Khaleda, the more times someone slept with her, the higher the chance of them losing their grip on reality. Having been there, I believed it. She’d slowly gnaw away at Nicole’s sense of self until there was nothing left but the desire to serve and please her mistress.
“Does Nikki know you’re slowly draining away her free will?” I asked Morningstar. “Because when I tell Darius, you can bet he’ll be pissed.”
“I’d be much more willing to reject her advances if Darius was up to date on his payments. As it is, I’m just so strapped for cash, I’ve no other way to pass my time.” His smile was tauntin
g. It was utter bullshit and we both knew it.
“I thought you said this had nothing to do with Darius?”
“Did I?” He shrugged. “I suppose everything is related in one way or another. Enjoy your evening, you two.” Morningstar went to the bathroom door and rapped on it twice.
I crossed my arms. “What about Loki’s banquet? Were you planning on going?”
Morningstar rolled his eyes. “Mead, meat and raucous behavior? Normally, I’d never be able to decline, but seeing as how Loki dislikes me, I think it would be unwise to be in his presence when there’s drinking and debauchery involved. It wouldn’t go my way.”
Khaleda opened the bathroom door and Morningstar slid in, kicking Spot back to keep him from muscling his way in. If the dog had wanted, he could’ve crashed right through the door, but he just sat and whined at it instead.
“So,” I said turning back to Emma, “should we finish fighting or just awkwardly pretend we’re good?”
Emma made a frustrated sound and collapsed onto the bed pulling the pillow over her face. “I hate you.” Her voice came out muffled from beneath the pillow.
“Okay, awkward pretending it is. Look, I’m going to go to Loki’s party, but it’s so I can talk to some people on the remaining teams. I’m pretty sure I know who our killer is, but I need to find evidence before I can make a formal accusal.”
Emma lifted the pillow off her face. Guess my bet that work would be a safe conversation had paid off. “Do tell.”
So, I went into the room, closed the door and brought Emma up to speed on everything I could. I didn’t tell her about the whole apocalypse thing because I couldn’t, but I did drop some heavy hints that killing another Horseman would be bad for everybody. She didn’t question it, which was a relief.