“Did you get footage of it?” Sinclair asked Stacey as she came over to join us, camera in hand.
Her face was still touched with wonder. It made her look younger, or like a softer version of her younger self. “Yeah, I did. That was pretty spectacular.”
“And it’s a safer bet than those ghostbusting videos you were posting earlier,” I observed.
Stacey’s expression hardened. “I was just doing my job.”
Oops, that was on me. It was hard to lose the habit of a lifetime. I raised my hands. “I know, I know.”
Sinclair cleared his throat. “So . . . anyone up for joining us for a drink at the Shoals?”
As much as I wanted to hold on to this feeling of transcendent humanity, I really didn’t want to sit around in a bar trying to remember to be polite to Stacey Brooks while she fawned over my ex-boyfriend.
“No thanks,” Jen said firmly, hooking her arm through mine. “We’re going to hang out here for a while and watch the snow fall. Right, Daise?”
“Right.” I snuck a guilty glance in Lee’s direction. “Okay by you?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
After saying good night to my mom and Lurine and Gus as they made their way back to Lurine’s Town Car, where her driver was patiently waiting, the three of us crossed the street to the playground across from the park, sitting on the swings and passing our thermoses of schnapps-laced cocoa back and forth, kicking our feet idly against the well-worn grooves in the gravel. The big spruce continued to blaze with Christmas lights. Slowly and steadily, big flakes of snow continued to fall, sparkling in the glow of the streetlights and accumulating on the frozen ground.
“We could make snow angels,” Jen said in a speculative tone.
“We could,” I agreed. “Or not.”
“Do you think there really are angels?” Lee asked unexpectedly, taking a swig from Jen’s thermos. “Thrones and powers and dominions and whatnot? The whole Judeo-Christian pantheon?”
Both of them looked at me.
I looked up. Snow fell from the night sky, dizzying from my narrow perspective. Or maybe it was the schnapps. “I guess there must be.”
“Why?” Lee’s voice held simple curiosity.
“Because I know my father is real,” I murmured, taking a sip of cocoa. “Belphegor. So it only makes sense that his opposite must exist.”
“You’ve met him?” Lee asked me.
I shook my head. “Not exactly. But we’ve . . . spoken. I know he exists. I know how to invoke him.”
“Daise,” Jen said quietly.
“It’s okay.” I wrapped my gloved hands around the thick chains of the swing, pushing off against the snow-covered gravel with my feet. “I wouldn’t. You know I wouldn’t.” Once again, I set the memory of my nightmare aside, holding fast to the light. “It’s just that . . . yes. I think there are all kinds of things that exist on the far side of the Inviolate Wall, angels and demons included.”
“What about God?” Lee asked.
“Whose God?” I said. “Catholics? Lutherans? Baptists? Calvinists? What about the other apex faiths like Judaism and Islam and Buddhism and Hinduism?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
“Neither do I.” Leaning backward, I pumped my legs, making the swing soar higher. “I mean, they can’t all be right, can they?”
“Why not?” Jen asked reasonably. “There are different gods here on earth, aren’t there?”
“Just the chthonic ones,” Lee said. I raised my eyebrows at him in passing. “The ones with ties to the underworld,” he clarified. “Those are the ones that have endured, right?”
I stilled my swing. “Yeah, but they’re . . . diminished. Their demesnes are limited. They’re not even doing battle with each other, let alone seeking dominion over the entire earth.” At least I hoped not. I was still uneasy about that whole Hades business. “I don’t think you can say the same thing for whatever God or gods are on the other side of the wall. So who’s right?”
“Maybe it’s like the many-worlds theory,” Lee offered. Jen and I gave him blank looks. “In quantum mechanics. It postulates a reality in which every possible quantum outcome is realized. So in theory, there could be an infinite universe containing an infinite number of worlds in which every possible version of God exists.”
Jen held out her hand for a thermos. “This conversation would be a lot better if we were stoned.”
I was still trying to wrap my head around it. “Yeah, but what about this world, Lee?”
He shrugged. “Maybe the Inviolate Wall functions sort of like the box in Schrödinger’s cat.”
Okay, thanks to The Big Bang Theory—the TV show, not the actual scientific theory—at least I’d heard of that one, although I didn’t entirely understand it. “That’s the thing where there’s a cat in a box and you don’t know if it’s alive or dead?”
“Sort of,” Lee said. “Schrödinger conceived it as a thought experiment to illustrate the nature of quantum entanglement, which is a characteristic—” Noting our expressions, he caught himself. “Never mind. The point is that based on an unpredictable variable, the cat has either been poisoned or not. Until an observer opens the box to see if the cat is dead or alive, it exists simultaneously in both states.”
“I bet the cat would beg to disagree,” Jen observed.
“It’s a thought experiment,” Lee said patiently. “It’s not an actual cat. It’s meant to illustrate a theory.”
She smiled at him. “I know. I’m just yanking your chain.”
I gazed up at the night sky again, the snowflakes like stars drifting earthward. “So you’re saying that there are infinite possibilities beyond the Inviolate Wall, but once it’s broken, they collapse into one reality?”
“At least in this world.” Lee shrugged again. “It’s a theory.”
I shivered, feeling the shadow of my nightmare returning to hover over me. Beneath my down coat, my tail gave a nervous twitch. “Let’s not talk about this anymore.”
Jen tilted her thermos to shake the last drops of cocoa into her mouth before hopping out of her swing. “C’mon,” she said in a pragmatic tone. “All this stoner talk is making me hungry. Let’s go get burgers at Bob’s.”
“It’s not stoner talk,” Lee protested. “It’s—” He paused. “You’re yanking my chain again, aren’t you?”
She gave him another sidelong smile. “Maybe.”
I didn’t want to be alone right now, but I didn’t want to intrude, either. “You guys go ahead. I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” Jen stuck out one hand, waiting for me to take it. “You’re in a weird mood, and that means you’re not going home alone to put one of those old Billie freaking Holiday CDs on the stereo and mope around your apartment with your freakishly large cat. You’re going to Bob’s with me and Lee for a pitcher of beer and a nice, juicy burger, because we’re your friends and we look out for each other. Okay?”
El Arbol, my roots.
“Okay.” I grabbed Jen’s hand and let her haul me out of the swing. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
Twenty-five
That was the plan, anyway. Beer and a burger at Bob’s Bar & Grill. We only got a few yards before a figure detached itself from the shadow of an oak tree and leaped to the top of the jungle gym in one inhuman bound, balancing in a crouch.
All three of us let out startled yelps. I kindled a shield without thinking, dropped my thermos, and yanked open my messenger bag, reaching for dauda-dagr in its hidden sheath. Or at least I tried to get a grip on it. Okay, so thick winter gloves, not such a good idea. Atop the jungle gym, the crouching figure grinned, revealing sharp fangs in a luminously pale face framed with glossy black hair.
Jen folded her arms over her chest. “Thanks, Beth. You nearly scared us half to death. What are you doing here?”
“Keeping an eye on my family, just like I promised.” With another spectacular leap, Bethany Cassopolis descended from the jungle gym, th
e skirts of her Victorian frock coat flaring. “I remember you,” she said to Lee. “You’re the creep who tried to kill me with artificial sunlight.”
“Do you mean the guy who kept you from choking Dad to death?” Jen asked. “Because that’s the way I remember it.”
“Whatever.” Bethany grabbed the lapels of Lee’s camel-hair coat—one of the purchases Jen had talked him into during their fashion makeover shopping spree—in one hand. Despite the fact that he had a good eight inches on her, she hoisted him effortlessly off the ground. At least Lee was tall enough that his toes still touched. “So are you dating my sister or what?”
“I don’t know,” Lee said in strangled voice. “Ask her!”
“Jen?” Bethany glanced at her.
She kept her arms folded. “None of your business.”
“Oh, for God’s sake!” Using my teeth, I stripped the glove off my right hand and got my fingers wrapped around dauda-dagr’s hilt. “Bethany, Jen, chill out. Let’s not go through this all over again.”
With a snarl, Bethany tossed Lee several yards through the air. He landed on his back in the new-fallen snow, the air leaving his lungs in a woofing sound as she whirled on me. “You stay out of this! This is family business.”
It’s hard to pull off menacing in a coat that makes you look like you’re wrapped in a sleeping bag, but I did my best, keeping a shield kindled between us and dauda-dagr held low and ready. “Actually, if you’re threatening mortals without cause, it’s my business,” I said evenly, holding up my left hand palm outward. “Agent of Hel here, remember?”
“Um, yeah, you might want to take the glove off, Special Agent Johanssen,” Bethany said. Oops. “And who says I don’t have cause?”
“I do, you freak!” Jen retorted, kneeling beside Lee in the snow. “I wanted you to make sure Brandon was okay, not get all up in my business!”
Bethany cocked her head. “Um, I didn’t hear you complaining when I took a bullet for you at the Halloween parade.”
Jen shrugged. “Yeah, well, there’s a big difference between saving me from a bona fide gun-wielding psycho and threatening my date.”
“Does this mean we are dating?” Lee wheezed.
“Yeah, I guess it does,” Jen said with reluctant affection. “I’d say being threatened by my sister makes it official.”
“Oh, I haven’t even begun to threaten,” Bethany said. “Listen, Lee. If you even think of hurting my sister—”
“Hey!” I waved dauda-dagr in the air. “A little respect, here? Magic dagger? Capable of killing the immortal undead?”
Bethany shot me a dismissive look. “Oh, please. You wouldn’t use that thing on your best friend’s sister.”
“Don’t tempt me.” I tightened my grip on the hilt. “I’m still curious about what would happen if I just injured someone with it, and I’m still betting on eternal never-healing wound. Shall we find out?”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” There was a shift in the tension between us as Bethany attempted to put a vampire whammy on me. Her tongue flicked out between her fangs to lick her lips, eyes gleaming.
Feeling the tug of her allure, I poured more energy into my shield, letting it blaze. “Nice try.” Fledgling vampires have the full measure of preternatural speed and strength, but vampiric hypnosis takes years to master. I beckoned with dauda-dagr. “C’mon, what do you say? Just a scratch?”
With a catlike hiss, Bethany vaulted back atop the jungle gym in a swirl of frock coat. “You’d have to catch me first!”
Another figure emerged from the shadows of the oak. “I’d be willing to take that challenge,” Cody Fairfax said in a silken growl. “And I suggest you don’t try me.” He put his hands on his duty belt and tilted his head to look up at her, phosphorescent green flashing behind his eyes. “I think you’ve had enough fun here tonight, Miss Cassopolis.”
Oh, great.
“What are you doing here?” I asked Cody.
“Working,” he said. “Trailing a suspicious vampire lurking in the playground. Are you okay, Mr. Hastings?”
Lee was back on his feet, brushing snow off his nice new camel-hair coat. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Do you want to file a complaint?” Cody asked him. “I’d be happy to take your statement.”
“Uh, no.” He shot a nervous glance Bethany’s way. “I’ll pass.”
That was probably a good thing, since the Pemkowet Police Department didn’t really have the resources or the desire to take on the House of Shadows. It wasn’t a confrontation that would end well for anyone, which is why Lady Eris, mistress of our local vampire brood, generally kept her people on the right side of the law.
“Okay.” Turning back to Bethany, Cody addressed her in a gentler tone. “Look, I understand that you want to protect your family. Believe me, I do. You’ve been powerless for a long time, right? And now that’s changed. You’re the one with the power, more power than you’ve ever had in your life.”
Atop her perch, Bethany sneered. “What, and with great power comes great responsibility? Spare me. I don’t need a werewolf on the down low to spout dime-store philosophy straight out of a Spider-Man movie at me.”
“Who said anything about responsibility?” Cody said mildly. “I was going to say something like, when you’re a hammer, everything looks like a nail.”
A look of confusion crossed Bethany’s face. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means Lee’s not a nail, so quit hammering him,” I said. “No beating up innocents as a warning, okay? Because I will file a complaint, and I’ll file it on Hel’s behalf with Lady Eris or whatever the hell her real name is.”
“Oh, fine.” Bethany slumped in defeat. “I was just trying to look out for you,” she said to her sister.
“I appreciate the sentiment.” Jen’s voice was softer than it had been. “But I promise you, Lee’s nothing like Dad. He couldn’t be less like him if he tried. Okay?”
“I really couldn’t,” Lee agreed.
“So are we good here?” Cody asked.
I glanced at Bethany. She returned my gaze with a stony one of her own, but she didn’t say anything. “We’re good,” I said to Cody. “And thanks, but I could have handled this on my own.”
He shrugged. “Just doing my job, Daise. I didn’t know who Bethany was stalking when I spotted her.”
“I wasn’t stalking.” Bethany came down from the jungle gym in another bounding leap. “I was observing.” She came toward me, not halting until I could feel the undead aura that surrounded her—the absence of a heartbeat, of involuntary breathing, of human warmth. At close range, it was as creepy as all hell—and somehow even creepier with someone I’d known as a living, breathing mortal. “So you think you could have handled me, huh?”
Over her shoulder, I saw Cody raise his eyebrows in inquiry, and I gave my head a slight shake, standing my ground. I hadn’t been truly angry before, just annoyed. After all, Bethany had taken a bullet for her sister at the Halloween parade earlier this year—literally, at point-blank range.
But I was getting angry now. I’d never had a lot of patience for the hierarchical bullshit that went on in the eldritch community, all the posturing and standoffs, and tonight, it was more than I could take. All I’d wanted to do was enjoy the lighting ceremony, have a nice time with my friends, and forget about the specter of Armageddon for one evening, not get into a virtual pissing contest with a vampire.
I let my anger slip its leash, feeling the atmosphere around us grow charged. My hair crackled with static electricity. My tail was lashing, and dauda-dagr’s hilt was solid and reassuring in my hand.
If Bethany made a move on me, I would cut her; and then we’d see what sort of lasting damage my magic dagger did to undead flesh.
Over at the swing set, the chains rattled uneasily. Bethany Cassopolis licked her lips, took a deliberate breath and a step backward. Score one for me—and without a single word spoken. With an effort, I reined in my temper. The atmosphe
re eased and the swings stilled.
Assuming an air of finality, I slipped dauda-dagr back into its hidden sheath. “So, how about that burger?”
“Yes, please,” Lee murmured. “And beer. Lots of it.”
Bethany pointed at him. “I stand by my warning. Don’t you forget it.”
Jen rolled her eyes. “I’m telling you, you’ve got nothing to worry about. And hey, it’s not like your judgment is anything to brag about. Where’s your snotty vampire boyfriend, anyway?”
Her sister shrugged. “Oh, didn’t I tell you? I broke it off with him as soon as he turned me. You’re right—he was totally passive-aggressive.”
“Huh.” Jen looked surprised. “Good for you.”
“You can do that?” Lee asked, sounding equally surprised. “Isn’t he, like, your maker or your sire or something?”
“Yeah, it doesn’t work exactly like that,” Bethany said. “I mean, we’re supposed to be soul mates, blood-bonded for life and all that, but you know, once I wasn’t a stupid, weak mortal under Geoffrey’s thrall, I realized he was a controlling prick just like our father and I didn’t really like him all that much.” She shrugged again. “Lucky for me, in real life, vampire progeny can only be commanded by their brood-mistress or –master. I don’t have to obey anyone but Lady Eris.”
“Or whatever her real name is,” I couldn’t help adding under my breath. Opposite me, Cody suppressed a grin. Trust me when I say that Lady Eris of the House of Shadows embodied every vampire trope exploited by Elvira, Mistress of the Dark back in the day. Although it’s also true that she works it pretty hard. In our last encounter, before I learned to shield, I was damn near ready to beg her to sink her fangs into my neck.
“Ha ha,” Bethany retorted. “It’s her real name, dummy. Her mother was the only daughter of a wealthy industrialist and her father was a classics scholar in Boston in the late eighteen hundreds. They fought a lot.”
I didn’t get it. “And?”
She raised one eyebrow. “Eris, as in the Greek goddess of strife? Which is also a pun on heiress, as in the heir to a fortune?”
Poison Fruit: Agent of Hel Page 20