by E. A. Copen
The shade didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”
“Thank you, Leonard.” I released my hold on the shade, and it disappeared.
Sweat raced down the front of my face along my nose. I wiped away and turned back to Nate, who hadn’t been able to hear any of that. “He’s fae. That’s two out of seven.”
“Six more to go.” Emma gestured to Nate. “Bring out the next oldest one.”
Nate brought out the next one, and I repeated the ritual on a young woman who’d broken her neck falling down a flight of stairs. Her shade was much larger than her body with thick, muscular limbs and tusks protruding from the bottom jaw. The one after her was another car accident. His shade was the same size, but his features leaner, more beautiful than the rugged glamour he’d adopted.
By the time I made it through the fourth ritual of the night, dawn was approaching. I was exhausted to the point that I swayed and mumbled my thanks to the shade before dismissing it.
They’d all been fae. That marked the third thing we knew about the victims. One, they were all card-carrying organ donors. Why the long-lived fae would choose to donate their organs after death eluded me. Maybe they’d just never meant to die. Maybe fae needed organ transplants too.
Aside from that, they were all in accidents at or around midnight; their testimony to me confirmed it. While none of them knew exactly when their organs were taken, they didn’t recall anything happening to them while they were alive that would cause it.
It seemed the gods, whoever they were, were hunting fae organ donors. That meant they had a list. A list that I could potentially replicate to locate potential victims. Maybe Osric could help me.
“Two more,” Nate said, rolling out the last gurney.
I began the ritual, despite being absolutely exhausted and so cold my teeth were chattering. That couldn’t have been good, considering where my normal body temperature hovered anymore. But Emma asked, so I complied.
When this shade popped out, I almost fell over, and not just from exhaustion.
“Lazarus?” Emma’s voice was questioning. “Everything okay?”
“I know him,” I said, a twinge of sorrow in my voice. But that was impossible. When I’d last seen him, he was very much alive. “It’s the organ grinder.”
“What organ grinder?” Emma growled.
I tuned her out as best I could. My strength was waning. Sooner or later, it’d run out, and I’d have to let the shade go. Before that happened, I needed answers.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Harold Miller,” answered the shade.
“Harold, what do you know about organ grinders or baboons?”
The shade just floated there, unable to answer. Dammit, the question was too open-ended. I’d have to be more specific.
I let out a breath, trying to will myself warm. “How did you die?”
“I was having a cigarette,” the shade answered. “My wife doesn’t know I haven’t quit, so I went to the roof. I heard the strangest music, so I peered over the edge and saw a monkey dancing in the street next to a cart. The ground got too close.”
“He fell from an eighth story balcony,” Emma said, crossing her arms. “Landed on his head. We thought he was a suicide at first, but no note, no history of depression. Traffic camera caught him trip and fall.”
“Did the camera catch an organ grinder and a baboon?” I asked without turning my attention away from the organ grinder. No way this could be the same guy. “And when did you die?”
“Two nights ago,” Emma and Harold answered at the same time.
Without thinking, I choked out, “Impossible. I just saw you yesterday afternoon trying to scam me in this very parking lot.”
“I don’t think harassing the ghost is a good idea.” Nate’s face had long ago drained of color, but he’d stuck it out.
I ignored him, winding Harold’s string tighter. “Are you fae?”
“Yes.”
“What court?”
“Shadow,” he answered.
I suddenly wished I’d thought to ask all the others about their allegiances, but it was too late now. Harold was different. The other bodies hadn’t been sighted, but I’d definitely seen Harold outside in the parking lot with that creepy baboon.
“Could someone be glamoured to look like him?” Emma asked. “Maybe someone killed him and then glamoured themselves to look like him.”
“Why though?” I shook my head. “Especially if everyone knew he was dead? It makes no sense.”
I wanted to ask Harold more questions, but my hold on him was wavering. I gave him a curt thank you and sent him back to rest. My foot slid over the chalk line breaking the circle, but when I moved to take another step, I all but collapsed. I’d have face-planted if Emma and Nate hadn’t caught me. Blackness pulsed at the edge of my vision and my temperature plummeted even further, enough that I felt saliva freezing on my tongue. “Need to get out.”
Emma cursed again. “Help me carry him out of the morgue,” she said to Nate.
I didn’t lose consciousness, but I could feel it threatening. If I passed out now, I didn’t know if I’d come back. Even once they got me outside of the building, I felt the essence of death settling deep inside. The flood of power I’d felt when I opened myself in the morgue had left me once I broke the circle, leaving me weak enough that it took all my effort just to get the shield of rotting vines up around my psyche.
All around me, dead things ripped at my weakened shields. More bodies in the morgue called to me, begging for me to lend them the last of my life. Somewhere nearby, there was a dead animal in the road. I felt it tug at me, demanding my attention.
At the very edge of my senses, something darker lurked. I felt more than saw the smile in shadow and the red eyes. “You can’t have me,” I muttered, blind and half conscious. “I’m not an organ donor.” Never mind that I wasn’t fae either.
I heard Emma curse, the ding of a car door, and then nothing.
Chapter Thirteen
I peered across the chasm in front of me. Green bushes and tall grass waved in a gentle breeze. A stream nearby laughed as it jumped over rocks on its journey to a larger river and the sun shone warm and bright on a summer’s day.
On the other side, shadow awaited. Not just the dark tint the sun cast when an object blocked the path of light, but true shadow. It obscured everything but the craggy shape of the cliffs, outlining a land of empty darkness.
Between the two sides, a rickety rope bridge stretched, groaning in the wind. Below that, bright blue-green energy stirred. I’d never seen the energy in the chasm before, nor had I been to that place, and yet I knew exactly where I was. This was the place where life became death. But what was I doing there?
“Do you like it?”
I turned my head as a man stepped up beside me. No, not a man. No man would wear a gold painted jackal on his head, carry a studded flail, or wear such crazy eyeliner. Well, maybe some would, but that description fit someone else I’d heard of much better. Anubis.
I shrugged. “I think I expected more grandeur. Maybe some trumpets or a giant set of scales. You know, cause you’re supposed to weigh my heart and all that?” I jammed my hands into the tattered remains of my jacket pockets.
“Sorry to disappoint you.” A hint of amusement colored his voice. “But I only do that for the dead, and you, my friend, are not properly dead. Not yet.”
I turned away from the rope bridge to face him, and he mimicked my movements with his own. “Then what the hell am I doing here? And no offense, but why you? I’m from New Orleans, not Cairo.”
The god rolled his eyes to the sky and muttered something in a language I didn’t understand. I was pretty sure it was a complaint though. “Because of the absence of a reaper, and because your passing would warrant it. You are the Pale Horseman, after all.”
“For all the good it’s doing me,” I grumbled. “This office ought to come with a Horseman Powers for Dummies book or something.”
“Haven’t seen Baron Samedi in two weeks.”
“That is…concerning.” He stroked his chin. “But has no bearing on current events. Soon, your body will call you back, and all of this will be just another pleasant memory.” He gestured to the valley with the flail.
I cast another glance over the chasm toward the land of shadow and found myself recalling how I’d been close enough to the After to see it. The low body temperature, seeing souls, all of that was cool, but seeing the After had terrified me in a way nothing else had. I’d never been a fan of reminders of my own mortality.
Another warm wind tugged at my hair. “What happens to Horsemen when they die?”
“The mantle will pass to another,” Anubis said, following my gaze. “The cycle continues. Balance must be maintained.”
“But what happens to me? To my soul? Are there any special considerations when it does come time to put my heart on the scales?”
“Special considerations?” One bushy eyebrow quirked up. “You mean will it tip the scales in your favor? Lazarus, you know already that’s not how this works. Otherwise, you wouldn’t even ask.”
I sighed. “Well, it was worth a try anyway, right?”
Anubis nodded. “Indeed. A most worthy attempt.”
A new sound cut through the otherwise peaceful afternoon, the distant scream of a hawk. It almost sounded as if it had been forming a word.
Anubis put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Almost time for you to go.”
“Go?” I turned back to the chasm, unsure if I really wanted to go back to my body. It seemed so peaceful there. All the small aches and pains of being alive had disappeared, even the headache I’d been nursing. The hunger gnawing at my insides, the ache where my shoulders met my neck, it was all gone.
The one thing that hadn’t disappeared was the pain sitting at the bottom of my ribcage. Heartbreak over Odette.
I suddenly felt stupid for even acknowledging the pain. Women were supposed to bellyache over bad break-ups with rom-coms and pints of ice cream. Guys grabbed a beer and got over it, right? So why was that loss still gnawing at me?
“I have always wondered something,” Anubis said, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “When you see the souls of your fellow humans, how does it appear to you?”
“Big ball of light with squirmy little tentacles. The light is silver for human, gold for gods, and green for fae.” I patted my chest, low in the center. Exactly where that nagging pain was. “Right about here.”
Anubis nodded. “In my time, it was believed the human soul had many parts. First, the spark. That enigmatic thing that separates life from death. Then the name, which if forgotten meant no one could pass into the After. And of course, personality.” He glanced at me and lifted his eyebrow quizzically. “Though I suppose some have more of that aspect than others.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The god ignored me as if I hadn’t even spoken. “The last two pieces of the soul are the shadow and the heart. All five are required to breach the chasm between life and death. It is why the one pain of life that cannot be erased here is the pain of the heart.”
I scratched at my chest, even though it didn’t itch, and yawned, trying to pretend I hadn’t heard him. It was one thing to admit to myself I was still reeling from losing Odette, and another to admit it to some random god in a near-death dream.
But he’d mentioned something else that felt important. “The shadow?” I looked at my feet and found my shadow stretching out, long and dark behind me. To my surprise, it waved at me, despite me not waving at it. Talk about surreal.
“If someone wanted to capture a shadow, keep someone’s soul from completely crossing over…” I turned back to Anubis whose eyes were sparkling like diamonds.
“How does one capture a shadow?” Anubis pressed his lips together and shrugged. “The better question is why? Once, it was believed the soul would rejoin the body, which is why such great care was taken to preserve it. Pieces of a soul will seek each other, and a soul will always seek its body, even when parted from it. Unless that soul is taken to the After.”
The sound I’d heard before came again, this time louder. It was definitely a voice speaking a single word, though I couldn’t yet tell what the word was. The sound echoed on the other side of the pink clouds hanging overhead, moving with a bright light. Anubis’ eyes watched the light roll over the sky with care until it vanished when it struck the After. Nothing, not even light could penetrate the veil of shadow over the After.
Nothing except me, and my magic.
“What if the pieces can’t get back together?” I asked, lowering my gaze from the sky. “Like if some powerful spell kept them apart.”
Anubis stroked his chin. “It would be difficult to achieve.”
“But it could be done?”
“Perhaps.” Anubis nodded. “Almost certainly, but it would require specialized knowledge, and experience. Few in your time would possess the skills needed.”
The voice rolled through the air again even louder, closer. This time, I recognized the speaker and smiled. Of course, it would be Emma yelling at me to wake up or else.
“I take it that’s my cue?” I pointed to the clouds.
Anubis nodded and placed his hands on my shoulders, stepping closer.
To make it less awkward, I asked, “So when do I get a reaper? You guys are holding interviews, right? Because no offense, you’re great and all, but I liked the last one better.”
He smirked and showed gleaming white teeth. “Goodbye, Lazarus. Try not to give me a reason to rip out your heart and place it on the scales anytime soon.”
Lightning poured out of his fingers and surged through my body, making me go rigid. I was given a sudden, intense understanding of how Leonard must’ve felt in his last moments when his screwdriver slipped into the fuse box, and then the world went white.
I came back just in time to feel the sting of Emma’s slap bite my cheek. My head jerked to the right, and I lay on the ground, blinking away tears. “Ow.”
“Lazarus? Jesus, don’t ever do that again.”
“Me? You’re the one that hit me.” I rolled my head back so I could get my bearings, flexing my jaw.
We were back in Emma’s greenhouse, on the stone floor. Emma straddled me, her bony knees digging into my hips. Above, the rosy-tinged gold tones of late dawn danced through the glass in generous rays, caressing the shadows on her face. Purple flowers drooped from a hanging basket behind her head.
She sounded like her normal, hardened homicide cop self, but the look on her face belonged to a frightened child left alone too long in the dark.
“Emma?” I gripped her hand, or tried to. My arms were all rubbery from expending all that effort to raise five shades in one night, and nearly killing myself in the process. I missed her hand entirely, and my hand landed on her ass.
Emma’s eyes went wide with some emotion I couldn’t decipher. Before she got a chance to realize she should be offended or upset, I pulled my hand away and tried to sit up, which of course just made things more awkward, because that put other things in my face. She pushed to her feet quick enough that it almost knocked me over and stepped away, folding her arms across her chest and turning her back to me. I was suddenly very aware of the fact that she’d stripped off the tattered remains of my coat and started looking around for it.
“You quit breathing,” she said. “No pulse, cold to the touch. I didn’t know if I should call a squad or what. You can’t do that, Lazarus. You can’t die every damn time I ask for your help.”
I paused, pulling my coat from a rosebush, which was a difficult task with wet noodles for arms. “It’s not your fault. I volunteered. Besides, I’m fine.”
“This time.” She spun around but left her arms crossed, the look on her face somewhere between enraged and injured. “You almost die
d last time too. Now there are more gods and monsters in the world now than I know what to do with, and you were lying on the floor of my greenhouse dead. Dead!”
Emma was a homicide detective. She should’ve been used to seeing death since it was her everyday job. Something told me that wasn’t the problem, but I couldn’t wrap my head around exactly what she was saying. I was fine. I’d just over-exerted myself again. She’d done exactly the right thing, bringing me to the greenhouse, staying near, waiting. Why was she so upset?
“I’m sorry?”
She sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes, tilting her head to the side as if she were in pain. Maybe I’d done the wrong thing by apologizing, but I didn’t know what else she expected me to say. I probably shouldn’t have phrased it as a question. That was it.
I couldn’t say whatever it was she wanted me to, so I apologized again instead. “Sorry I didn’t get to raise Captain Ross.”
Emma shrugged. “He was fae too, wasn’t he?”
“Probably.”
The air felt heavy again so I turned my attention back to pulling my coat free. “Why’d you take my coat off, anyway?”
“To look for a pulse.”
The coat came free unexpectedly and sent me sprawling back to the floor. It landed on my face. Emma sighed, and I heard her shoes move over the stone. A second later, she lifted the coat from my head.
“Is there anything else I can do to help you get better?” she asked. “I hate to say it, but the clock is ticking. I don’t want another victim tonight.”
My stomach answered for me, growling loud enough that even I was surprised. I patted the snarling beast. “Food. As much as I hate to say it, I don’t think I can live on beer.”
She wrinkled her nose as if I smelled. Maybe I did. The last twenty-four hours had been a wild wide with me running all over the city. I’d battled three gods, fought the Shadow Queen’s guardian, raised five shades, and grabbed a ghoul. I bet I smelled plenty ripe.