The Lazarus Codex Boxed Set 2

by E. A. Copen

  “I know you’ve got a dog in this fight, but a smart lady like you knows your team isn’t getting to the finals. It’ll be my team versus War’s, which means your guys get cut down on our way to the top.”

  “So you have come to negotiate a deal?” She smiled a radiant smile. “Brave of you.”

  Emma crossed her arms. “We don’t really care about the tournament. We believe Pestilence is killing strategists. Our plan is to gather evidence against her, but to get that evidence, we need help. In exchange for our promise not to inflict fatal wounds on your team, you and yours keep an eye out for us. Let us know if you see anything.”

  “We. Our. Us. Do these words include Lucifer Morningstar and his daughter Khaleda’s promises? What about Haru Nakamata and his team?”

  Emma and I exchanged a glance.

  “What good is the word of two out of ten? Not even a majority.”

  “It’s the deal on the table. Take it or leave it.” I tried to sound confident but wasn’t sure I managed it.

  Tiamat’s hands shot forward, gripping either side of the red-hot stone pots. She thrust her face and torso into the flame. Warm honey-colored skin melted from her bones like wax revealing a scaled lizard-like body beneath. Her dress caught fire and melted into a rainbow of scales.

  A bright red forked tongue flicked out between her lips. “Do not assume victory will come so easy for you, Horseman.”

  I swallowed and took a step back. “So is that a no on the deal then?”

  Her hand thrust into the coals and came out as claws. “I could kill you now, and it would save everyone a great deal of pain, you know. You want to save her? Then lay down your life for hers here and now. Let’s see how serious you are.”

  “That’s not how this works.” I slid back another step and another. Just a few more yards back to the stairs. “And how do you know about my deal with Morningstar?”

  “I have seen the open door.” She crawled up onto the hot coals, the last of her flesh melting into a monstrous, four-legged dragon. Crimson wings shuddered, freeing themselves from the burning skin. “And I have seen what comes. You would kill us all.”

  Tiamat leaped from the fire and landed on the floor. She shook ash from her body and crept after us, huge claws digging into the stone.

  A knife suddenly cut through the air and embedded itself in the stone wall.

  My head snapped to the side, peering down into the room where the brawl had finally settled down. Loki stood on the table below facing us. One of his Valkyries offered him their spear and he took it with a clear message written on his face. The next one wouldn’t miss. Question was, was he tossing sharp objects at Tiamat or at me?

  Emma grabbed my hand and jerked me back toward the stairs. Apparently, she didn’t want to hang around to find out.

  We ran down the stairs at full speed. I nearly tripped off the last stair to get ahead of Emma just in case he was waiting to toss his spear until we got to the bottom. Nothing stabbed me, but I kept myself between Emma and Loki as she came off the stairs. He held the spear in his hand facing the door, waiting. The whole room seemed to be silent and waiting for something. For us to die, maybe.

  Above, Tiamat flung herself at the balcony, human once again, a dark smile painted on her lips. “Go on, Horseman. Flee. Save your precious human. And when you grow tired of the chaos you are about to cause, remember this meeting. Remember that you had the chance to stop it and walked away.”

  As if I would just lay down and die based on some muddy prophecy by a crazy Babylonian dragon goddess.

  “Valkyries!” Loki shouted. “Please ensure that the Pale Horseman and the Queen of Thorns make it to their chambers without incident.”

  Several Valkyries moved toward us and I rushed to grab Emma by the arm.

  She pulled away. “What’s happening? What was that witch’s problem?”

  “I’m not sure about anything anymore.”

  Tiamat had mentioned an open door, just like Persephone. Why she thought killing me would help, I had no idea. According to Persephone, all four Horsemen would have to help fix things once someone let Hell loose on Earth. You’d think the goddess of chaos would be all for a bunch of hellbeasts loose in the world. The only thing I could figure was that I had done something to offend her, but I couldn’t think of what. The hamburger quip wasn’t that bad.

  Either way, talking to the last two teams turned out to be a bust, but we did get four of the eight teams to agree to help. Hopefully, it would be enough.

  Chapter Nineteen

  We made it back to our apartments without running into anybody. The Valkyries decided it was a good idea to stand guard outside the entrance to our section and I agreed. Tiamat’s transformation had shaken both of us. Emma was still shaking when we got back. Me, I was more confused than normal. Too much didn’t make sense. I needed answers, and so far, no one had any.

  There were still a few hours before we had to be up for the match, and I was exhausted. The bed called, and I answered, falling into it while Emma went into the bathroom. I was almost out when she came back. She didn’t flip on the light, and the other bed creaked as she climbed into it, so I settled in to fall asleep with my back to her.

  “Lazarus, you still awake?”

  I sighed. “Define awake.”

  “I’m sorry I lied to you about the cost to save you.”

  I turned over to face her and propped my head up with an elbow. Emma was lying on her back in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin like she was cold. Or maybe she was scared.

  “I’m sorry you were put in a position where you had to make that choice. It shouldn’t have been yours to make. And I know you’re going to say it’s not my place to tell you what to do. You’re right about that. You make your own decisions. But I’m allowed to feel bad when my friends are hurting. It’s called sympathy.”

  Her fingers curled around the top of the blanket. “Are you sure you know the difference between sympathy pains and guilt?”

  I thought about the first time I’d seen Emma’s soul and all the weight pulling it down, a spiritual manifestation of the guilt she carried around with her. If I closed my eyes, I could still see the faded gray orbs hanging from chains around her chest. I had pulled one free. It had always bothered me that I’d had to leave the rest. I activated my Sight and turned my head to look at her. All that dead weight hung exactly where I’d left it.

  “Are you?” I rolled onto my back. “You’ve been avoiding going back to work for a reason. I know you’re taking antidepressants. I’m not judging, and before you ask, I wasn’t snooping. They just sorta fell out of the cabinet while I was at your house. I’ve seen the guilt you carry around with you. It weighs down your soul, Emma.”

  Silence stretched between us.

  “They sent me to a shrink.” Emma’s voice was strained. “While you were gone, there was a loup-garou lose in the city. I took it out, but not before…” She swallowed. “I’ve had gangbangers come after me. I was one of the first responding officers during a shootout that claimed three lives. I can’t tell you how many bodies I’ve looked at, how much evil I’ve looked in the eye and never once been fazed by it. But when that loup charged and it was him or me… I made a choice. I shot him. But it wasn’t him. He was just a kid, and I had to bury him in the swamp because loup-garous and wizards don’t exist. Somewhere out there, there’s a mother whose sixteen-year-old baby never came home because I shot him with my sidearm and a silver bullet. You tell me how I’m supposed to go back to being a cop when I’m a killer?”

  I closed my eyes and winced. If I’d been there instead of hiding in Faerie, I could’ve taken care of that instead of it falling on her. Being the bad guy for a good reason was my gig, and I’d fallen down on the job.

  “I don’t know,” I finally answered. “Me, I just tell myself every day is a new day, and every new day is a chance to do right. To start over and make the people I care about proud. I want to be a better person for Remy, but no matter what I
do there are always going to be people who see my record first and don’t bother to get to know me. It’s because of that I have to try harder to do better. I can’t let anyone down.”

  “That’s a lot of pressure.”

  I nodded before I realized she probably couldn’t see in the dark. “Yeah, but it’s easier to be strong under pressure when you’ve got someone to be strong for.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Hey, Emma, you want to know the funny thing? Whenever I’m on a case and I don’t know what to do, you know what I ask myself? What would Emma do?”

  She chuckled. “W W E D. Ought to get some armbands.”

  “I’m serious. You’re good at seeing things no one else does. You did a lot of good as a detective. But if it really is too much right now, I understand. Thanks for telling me. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help.”

  Emma yawned. “I’m glad you weren’t. You’d have just done something flashy and made me look bad.”

  I smiled to myself. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

  If she heard me, she didn’t give any indication. After a minute, the only sound in the room was of her gentle snoring. I put my arms behind my head and closed my eyes. I could listen to that all night.

  ***

  I woke up to three doggie tongues bathing my face. “Ugh, Hellhound breath!” All the flailing in the world didn’t make the mutt back off until I sat up.

  Emma’s bed was empty and made as if she’d never slept in it.

  “Sleep well?” asked Khaleda from the doorway.

  I glared at her. “Yeah. I was dreaming all about putting my hands around your daddy dearest’s neck and squeezing until the lights went out.”

  “I wouldn’t. He’d like it too much.”

  The thought almost made me gag. The hot breath of a three-headed dog crammed into the narrow space next to my bed didn’t help. I pushed Spot back with my foot but he didn’t budge until Khaleda whistled for him. Then he practically tripped over his gigantic paws to get to her, smashing the bottom of Emma’s bed. Dammit. So much for another decent night of sleep.

  Khaleda drew a hand over Spot’s three heads one by one. “Father called a strategy meeting ten minutes ago. He sent me to fetch you.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.” I stood, stretched and went to the door. She stayed right where she was. “Move.”

  “You need to take this seriously, Lazarus.”

  “I am taking it seriously, Khaleda. Emma’s soul is on the line.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Then what’s this I hear from your girlfriend about a non-lethal agreement with four of the teams?”

  Dammit, Emma. You were supposed to wait to break that to everyone. “It’s in everyone’s best interests to stick to it unless you want to piss a bunch of fighters off. I cut those deals for a reason.”

  Khaleda leaned in, her nose hovering a fraction of an inch from mine. “Let’s get one thing clear, Lazarus. I don’t give a damn about Pestilence or your case. I came here to win. I don’t need your scheming in my way.”

  Nothing I said would convince her. I’d already accepted that. The only things someone like Khaleda understood were threats.

  I grabbed her shoulder, sinking my fingers in deep right where the bullet had gone in. She hissed and tried to twist out of my grasp, but I held firm. “Guess it’s not as healed up as you hoped, huh, Khaleda?”

  She screeched like an angry cat and tried to claw at my face with the hand on her uninjured side. I let go of her shoulder, grabbed her hand and twisted it behind her back, spinning her around in the process. Shifting my weight forward pinned her against the door frame.

  Spot rumbled and bared his teeth.

  “Now you listen to me,” I growled low so my voice wouldn’t carry. “You kill anyone on the list and I will make your life a living hell. I don’t care if you do become Famine, and I don’t care if you run to daddy. I can and will fuck you up. Do you understand me?”

  “A little to the left.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve got an itch on my back. If you move to the left just a smidge…”

  I snarled and released her. “We’re doing this. Stop being a selfish bitch for once and help someone besides yourself! That’s what being a Horseman is about, Khaleda. If you can’t help me, you’re not fit for the job.”

  She rolled her shoulders until there was an audible pop and winced. “Luckily that’s not up to you to decide.”

  “It is if you don’t want me to rat out your plan to your father.”

  Khaleda’s eyes blazed with the threat of violence.

  I held my breath. Blackmail was the only ace I had and I’d played it. If she didn’t go for it, I was out of options and we’d be up to our necks in blood.

  The fire in her eyes died down. “Fine. We’ll try your way, but if it comes down to it, I will kill. It just won’t be my first choice. You have my word.”

  I nodded. “That’s all I’m asking. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to make a pit stop before the meeting. You can let your daddy dearest know I’m on my way.”

  I went to the bathroom and stopped to splash some water on my face. The image that peered back at me in the mirror looked even more haggard than usual. My normally scruffy beard threatened to overtake my face if the deepening dark circles under my eyes didn’t get there first. Since I hadn’t showered since yesterday morning, my hair looked dark and greasy. I gave the hot tub a longing look before rinsing off in the sink. After raiding the fully stocked medicine cabinet for all the basic necessities—excluding the shave, which would have to wait until after the fight—I went out to join the others in the meeting room.

  “Nice of you to join us,” Morningstar said as I took my seat next to Emma.

  Khaleda folded her arms and glared at me.

  “Some of us need more beauty sleep than others, pretty boy. Strategy isn’t my thing anyway, but go on. Don’t hold off on my account.”

  Morningstar gave me the stink eye before bringing up the first slide, a picture of the Celtic team. There were five guys in the image, all big, burly types with blue swirls painted on their milky skin.

  “The Celts fight for Lugh. Those of you who attended Loki’s banquet last night likely didn’t see them there due to a longstanding hatred between Lugh and Loki. Their mage is a druid specializing in ectomancy.”

  The team photo vanished replaced by a grainy video of one of the Celts waving his arms over a pile of fresh dirt. After about three seconds, his eyes lit up like headlights and blue lightning flashed toward the shaky camera before the image turned to static.

  I realized everyone was looking at me for an explanation. That’s right. Magic was my area. “Possession,” I explained. “He uses ghosts like a battery to fuel big, destructive magic. I can do the same thing, except I’m generally morally opposed to it.”

  “Why?” Khaleda asked. “Why not use every power at your disposal?”

  “Because consent is a thing.” I gestured to the screen. “Ghosts are sentient. Most of them are benign, totally harmless. When he’s pulling them into him like that, they’re consumed. Most ghosts won’t volunteer for that because, contrary to popular belief, they can still feel spiritual pain.”

  “I’m glad they do, or I’d have many henchmen out of a job,” Morningstar added. “They’ll put him in for this round, Lazarus. Tell us what to expect.”

  “What to expect?” I huffed out a breath and drummed my fingers on the table. If I were a druid ectomancer in the arena, what would I do? “Well, lightning is a given. My guess would be he’ll go for brute force over finesse. He doesn’t have to wow the crowd for the win, but he will have to pulverize us. He’ll stick to comfort zones, spells he knows well. Elemental stuff probably. That’s basic.”

  “And to combat that?” Morningstar asked.

  “With two hours of prep time, I’d be good to go. Without being able to put up circles in advance and lay out the battlefield?” I shook my head. “He’ll have to be a prim
ary target. Whoever else is in there, he’ll have to go first. But he’s a glass cannon. They’ll put him in the back and assign someone to protection duty.”

  Morningstar nodded. “Which is precisely what we’re going to do. Emma, you’ll stay with Lazarus. Don’t get separated. Your primary objective won’t be to take out targets so much as keep him alive to do so. Remember your gun only has six viable shots, but they won’t miss.”

  Emma folded her arms. “Piece of cake.”

  The next slide made me wrinkle my nose. The creature was a giant worm-like monster with no eyes. Spikes protruded from its open jaw, jutting back toward its body. Its teeth were like serrated knives and the damn thing had claws. It stood maybe twelve feet tall, a big, pale tongue lolling from its mouth.

  “This,” said Morningstar, “is an ollepheist. If you recall the old Irish legends about Saint Patrick, you know he was responsible for supposedly driving all the snakes from Ireland. In reality, it was the ollepheists he slew. This one is the descendant of one who escaped. Aquatic in nature, they’re like whales except for their ability to exist on land for short periods of time. The Celts brought this female inside a large tank. It can breathe outside of water for up to thirty minutes, however, so don’t try and outlast it. The hide is tough. Bullets will bounce.”

  Khaleda leaned forward. “Then why not put me in instead? My knives will cut it apart.”

  “Because I need you for the semi-finals and final rounds,” Morningstar answered. “You only get two bouts, Khaleda, so you sit this one out. Spot will take the ollepheist.”

  The dog’s tongues rolled out of his mouths and left drool dripping on the table.

  “That leaves their blade, whom I believe they will put in instead of the ranged.” Morningstar moved to the next slide.

  The blade for the Celts stood bare-chested on a rock, red hair streaming from his head like fire. He held a huge sword in his hand, the biggest I’d ever seen.