Death Rites

by E. A. Copen

  I nodded once. “I understand.”

  Pony’s voice was grave as he returned the nod and said, “Then I’ll take you to The Baron.” He tapped on a partition, separating our area from the driver’s section. The partition slid aside a quarter inch, just enough to allow his voice to be heard, but not enough that I could see who our driver was. “Take us out to Saint Louis Number One, will you?”

  As soon as the partition slid closed, my cell phone rang. I almost jumped out of my skin because I’d forgotten I even had the dang thing. Taking it with me hadn’t been the smartest thing to do, but I’d figured the Feds could only track it if I answered. An unfamiliar number danced across the screen, and I frowned. Could be the cops. Pony’s theory that the guys chasing me were fae notwithstanding, they had more reason than most to want to talk to me.

  But it could also be Odette.

  I decided to risk it. “City morgue. You kill ‘em, we chill ‘em. This is Doctor Coldfingers speaking.” Never hurts to play it safe.

  The person on the other line hesitated before asking, “Is this Lazarus Kerrigan, the necromancer?”

  Her voice was timid but familiar. It took me a minute to remember where I’d heard it before. When it came back to me, I shot forward in my seat. “Naomi?” Grace’s mother. The woman I’d escorted out of the burning house. The one Vestal Virgin still unaccounted for.

  “I can’t say much, not here. We need to talk. I need your help. Please, it’s urgent. Where can I meet you?”

  My eyes slid to Pony who shook his head. He suspected the same thing I did. It could be a trap. Vesta might’ve hidden the girl and coerced her to call me, but then why let me pick the meeting spot? I’d have to choose somewhere I’d have the advantage then. “Can you get to Saint Louis Number One?”

  “The cemetery?” She sounded pensive. I imagined her biting her lower lip. If Vesta was coaching her, I didn’t hear it, not in the phone and not in her voice. “When?”

  “Twenty minutes,” I said. “This should go without saying, considering what we both know about our mutual acquaintance, but I wouldn’t try anything if I were you. Not on cemetery grounds.”

  “I’ll come alone,” she promised and was silent a moment before adding a hurried, “Thank you.”

  The call ended, and I lowered the phone from my ear, frowning at it. If this was a set-up, and Vesta ambushed me before I talked to The Baron, I’d be screwed.

  “Are you sure that was the smart thing to do?” Pony asked.

  I shook my head and put away the phone. “Far from it, but if I’d listened to the last woman who asked for my help, I wouldn’t be in this mess to start with.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  We drove around the block twice on my orders, eying the faded brick cemetery walls. A hearse circling a cemetery at ten below the speed limit probably looked suspicious, but there wasn’t anything I could do about that. I had to make sure trouble wasn’t waiting inside. There was no sign of Naomi, but on the second pass, we watched a cab pull away from one of the gates.

  I eyed the clock. Quarter to five. The sun was headed toward the horizon as we neared dusk. If I wanted to meet Darius on time, I’d have to wrap things up at the cemetery pretty quick.

  The hearse pulled up to the same spot the cab had just taken off from.

  “You ready?” Pony asked me. “Once we do this, there won’t be any going back.”

  I peered at the tops of white mausoleums peeking over the cemetery wall through the tinted glass. “Just like old times, huh, Pony? Been a while since you dragged me into a cemetery.”

  He peeled his lips back from his teeth in a genuine smile. “Only ’cause it scared the shit out of me first time I saw what you could do when you really cut loose.”

  It’d scared the hell out of me, too. Still did, but I couldn’t tell Pony or anyone else that. A necromancer afraid of cemeteries would be like a nun scared of the church. Everyone would think something was wrong with me. In truth, I wasn’t so much scared of the old boneyard as I was of losing myself inside it. Mostly, I’d limited my practice of necromancy to calling up shades and ghosts for information, but I knew I could do more. Stepping into graveyards, especially old graveyards like this one, would be like going to a buffet of power. I could draw almost limitless energy here at very little immediate cost to me. Like all magic, however, there was still a price. If I pulled too much death into myself, I wouldn’t be able to leave the cemetery. Most cemeteries had gates and walls for a reason, and it wasn’t to keep the living out.

  “Let’s hope I don’t have to do any cutting loose here,” I said and threw open the door.

  The temperature had dropped noticeably, though the air felt heavier. Looking up, I noted the presence of dark clouds. A storm had rolled in. A raindrop smacked me in the side of the head, and I shivered.

  Pony ducked out of the hearse and tapped me on the shoulder with the staff. “Don’t forget this. You’ll need it.”

  “Right,” I said, and took it. Already, that staff had come in useful more than once.

  Pony opened a black umbrella and held it over us as we approached the iron gate. I looked around as he slid the lock mechanism aside. There were a few cars on the street, but I didn’t see anyone in them. A school zone speed limit sign blinked pale yellow light over an empty grassy park on the other side of the street.

  The gate squealed as Pony pushed it open and held it for me. “After you.”

  I stepped into the cemetery. Black power swirled up around me, tugging on my jeans. Death and decay called to every cell of my being, tearing my defenses apart bit by bit. The wall of vines and pine trees I relied on rotted and withered to nothing. In a place of death, life held no sway. I sucked in a breath through my teeth as my mental shields crumbled and the grave rushed to fill the empty space. The icy chill tore up my body, crawling into me through every bit of exposed skin. It pricked at the hair on my neck and chin like little fingers. In its wake, the essence of death left behind the tingling sensation of raw magic.

  Now comes the unpleasant part, I thought as the feeling moved to my lips and nose. My jaw snapped open unbidden, and the power crept inside, clawing its way through my body. Inside, it felt like my organs were rearranging themselves, swelling and bloating before decaying. I felt myself die, bit by bit, cell by cell, as the raw power of death swept through me head to toe.

  The process felt like it took ages. In truth, only thirty seconds had passed between when I stepped through the gates and when I let out my last rasping breath. It went from my body like a death rattle, escaping into the air as a white cloud. With it went the pain of death and decay and then some. The ache in my back and ribs lifted, as did the throbbing in my head. The gnaw of hunger, the chill of the rain, all the stings and pangs of life left me with that breath, leaving me nothing but an empty shell for power with a still-beating heart.

  “You acclimatized yet?” Pony grunted from behind me.

  I opened my eyes. At some point, I’d extended my hands in front of me to draw in more power. I lowered my arms, cracked my neck and popped my jaw back into place. “I always forget how weird that feels.”

  Pony left the safety of the other side of the wall and stepped into the cemetery with me. His eyes scanned the lines and lines of tombs. “Lots of spirits here, and not all of them friendly.”

  Something moved beside the mausoleum closest to the entrance on our right. I brought my staff up, ready to defend us if it turned out to be a threat. Pony’s knuckles cracked as he balled his fists.

  A petite blonde in an oversized hoodie stepped out from behind the mausoleum. Naomi. She hugged herself tight, teeth chattering. I grabbed the umbrella from Pony and immediately stepped up to her. It wouldn’t warm her, but it would keep the rain off. She offered a weak smile. “Thank you.”

  With an umbrella in one hand and a staff in the other, I wouldn’t be much use if someone did show up to cause trouble, so I handed her the umbrella. “You want to tell me what’s going on, Naomi?” />
  “I’d rather not talk in the open.” Her eyes slid to the cemetery gate, filled with worry.

  I ushered her back the row of tombs and ducked beside a particularly large one. Potted plants hung from the side, the leaves drooping in the rain. A squat pyramid of stained white kept vigil on the other side. Pony moved to the other end of the narrow space to keep guard.

  “Okay, we’re safe. Where have you been?”

  Naomi shook her head and stared at the mud between us. “I knew, after the fire, we weren’t safe. Grace and I got on the first bus we found and got out of there before she could show up.”

  “She being Vesta?” I asked.

  Naomi nodded.

  “I know the fire was meant to kill the both of you. What I don’t know is why.” My theory was that Vesta was killing the virgins she perceived to have broken their vows, but the fire bothered me. If she had a powerful witch in her employ and wanted to kill Grace and Naomi, why not just crush them? It didn’t fit with the rest of the things she’d done.

  Naomi swallowed. “It was my fault. Grace had been seeing this boy. I tried to tell Vesta they were just friends. She was only helping him. The two of them knew each other from before. We weren’t supposed to keep in contact with people from our old life, but Grace… She was just a girl. Eleven. You know how rebellious kids can be.”

  She shifted the umbrella and turned, pressing her back against the stone. “It was Gaston who started the fire, but I know it was on her orders. Fire is supposed to be purifying. Healing. At first, I believed. Grace had sinned, and this was the only way. I let them lock us in there. I let them… Oh, my baby… They killed her.” She dropped the umbrella and sank to her knees sobbing.

  Well, at least the story fit. Vesta must’ve thought Grace was violating her vow of chastity, or in danger of doing so, and probably blamed Naomi for allowing it to happen. And Naomi had bought it. Vesta and her little cult had indoctrinated her to the point she was willing to die and let her own child die for fear of eternal damnation. She must’ve had a change of heart at the last minute. Survival instinct was probably one of the few things capable of overriding cult indoctrination.

  Pony turned around and frowned at the scene before turning his back again. So much for his help.

  I squatted next to her, putting a hand on her back. “You two were separated?”

  She nodded. “She must’ve wandered away while I was sleeping. I found a shelter that was willing to take us in. It was only temporary until we could get out of the city. But when I woke up, she was gone. And then the news…”

  She launched into sobbing again. Not knowing what else to do, I grabbed the umbrella and held it over her until she calmed herself down enough to talk.

  “Deep breaths,” I encouraged. “I want to help, but first I need your help. I need you to tell me about Vesta. Tell me how she’s doing this. Is she using a spell?”

  “It’s not her.” Naomi shook her head violently. “It’s the maid, Julia. It’s her job to punish the wicked. Vesta just tells her when to do it.”

  “She must be using some kind of ritual,” I thought out loud. “Some reason she’s doing it this way.”

  Naomi sniffled and shook her head. “I don’t know. All I know is that my Gracie is gone and she didn’t deserve this. I’ve been running ever since the fire, but I’m tired. I don’t know where else to go. Where can I go that she won’t find me?”

  There was no easy answer to that. A goddess like Vesta probably had a long reach, and maybe even some way of tracking Naomi. She wouldn’t get far if she ran. I sure as hell couldn’t protect her, especially not if I was planning on marching into Vesta’s place in a few hours’ time to take her down.

  But I did know someone who could help.

  I pulled out my phone, and the card Detective Moses had given me, frowning at it. The fae that were after me were posing as Feds. The act must’ve been convincing enough to give them access to case files and to toss Moses’ office, which meant they were almost certainly watching his phone. As soon as I placed that call, I’d start a timer. They’d know exactly where to find me, and it’d only be a short while before they zeroed in on this place. But I knew Moses and Emma could keep Naomi safe, and this was my only point of contact with them.

  “I’m going to call some friends,” I told Naomi. “And I want you to go with them. They’re wise to some of this, so they should know how to keep you safe.” I hope.

  I dialed the number on the card.

  Detective Knight picked up on the second ring. “Knight.”

  My mouth suddenly felt dry. I’d expected to get Moses. Knight might still be mad at me for screwing things up. She might not want to talk. No, she might be pissed, but she’d never not help if a life was on the line.

  “Emma, it’s me.”

  The phone creaked as she shifted, probably shielding her voice from anyone nearby. “What the hell are you doing calling me? You know there’s a warrant out for you, right? The Feds want to bring you in.”

  “Yeah, I know, and you should know those Feds aren’t actually Feds. They’re fae posing as Feds.” Or I supposed they could be real Feds who happened to be fae, but that seemed less likely. “But that isn’t what I called to tell you. I found Naomi. She’s alive, and she has information that will help, but she needs protection. You and Moses need to come and get her.”

  “Where are you?”

  “St. Louis Number One. We’ll meet you by the gate on Basin Street.”

  She didn’t say anything. I thought maybe she’d hung up on me, but when I looked at the screen, the call timer was still ticking away. “Emma?”

  “I’m on my way,” she said at length. “Don’t call again. Get yourself out of there, Laz. I don’t want to have to arrest you when I arrive.” Finally, she hung up.

  I lowered the phone, frowning at the screen. She was probably right. The safest thing for me to do was escort Naomi somewhere and then get the hell out of Dodge, but the risk was too high. I couldn’t leave Naomi unguarded, not with Vesta’s goons still out there. Besides, it seemed Julia’s spell could work at a distance. Without someone there with her, Naomi would be helpless against it. Not that I thought I could repel the magic, but at least I could try.

  Besides, Knight wouldn’t really arrest me, would she?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Pony wasn’t happy about waiting around for the cops to show up, so he went deeper into the cemetery to wait until they were gone. Meanwhile, I stood near the gates, keeping watch over Naomi. She didn’t say a whole lot. Actually, she cried mostly. I’m not that great with crying women, so I just stood there awkwardly, staring at the gate.

  Emma’s Escalade pulled up directly in front of the gate, blocking the rest of the road from view. As she exited the vehicle, I got Naomi’s attention and helped her to her feet.

  Moses got there first, so I stopped in front of him. “Heya, Moses. This is Naomi. She needs a safe place to stay for a little while. You’ll want to take her statement.”

  Even though it was raining, Moses lifted his hat. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Naomi. Name’s Detective Moses. If you’ll come with me?”

  Naomi gave me a questioning look. I nodded and handed her the umbrella. “You can trust Moses. He’s a good guy. The best.”

  Moses nodded and took the umbrella.

  My arm was still outstretched when a metal handcuff snapped around the wrist. I turned to Emma who held the other end of the cuffs, tightening them around her wrist. “Hey, what gives?”

  “You’re coming downtown with me,” she said, her gaze firm.

  “The hell I am.” I jerked my arm away from her. The move pulled her forward. “You can’t just arrest me.”

  “I’m not.” She jerked her arm back. “There’s a warrant out for your arrest that’s perfectly valid. You’re wanted for questioning in connection with the murders, and the disappearance of Odette Hartman.”

  I made several flabbergasted noises that were closer to grunt
s and whines than human speech. Once or twice, I thought I had a witty retort, but decided against it. I didn’t want her to use those boots of hers to kick my face in.

  Knowing there was nothing I could say that’d change her mind, I turned to pleading with Moses. “Come on, man,” I shouted as he walked Naomi toward the exit. “Talk some sense into your partner!”

  Moses’ response was a wave.

  “You have the right to remain silent,” Knight said, hauling me toward the gate. “I suggest you use it.”

  Emma dragged me toward the exit, paying no attention to my pleas for her to release me. I normally wouldn’t stoop to begging, but if I stepped out of the cemetery without discharging all the power I’d taken in, there was no telling what would happen. All that magic would be trapped inside my body, and that couldn’t be good.

  She was just telling me about my right to an attorney as we approached the gate when I looked up. Emma’s Escalade was blocking most of my view, and Moses’ old car was parked in front of it. There was no sign of the hearse Pony and I had come in on, but there was another car with tinted windows crawling down Basin Street.

  The passenger side window slid down. I caught a glint of something green and glowy casting shadows inside the car. “Get down!” I shouted and threw myself to the ground. Since Emma was attached to me via the handcuffs, she got pulled down with me.

  Moses wasn’t so lucky.

  A blast of dark green energy sailed out the car window and straight for him. He gave Naomi a push, moving her out of the way, but when he turned to run himself, his knee hitched and he stumbled instead of running. The spell slammed into him, knocking him back. He rolled over the sidewalk where he lay gripping at his head, his mouth fixed in a silent scream.

  Emma jumped to her feet and charged for the exit, dragging me along with her, but I dug my feet into the dirt, slowing her escape because the car did a U-turn in the middle of the street. It was coming back for another pass.