by E. A. Copen
He nodded. “And you don’t read the cards. You read the man. Now you look at me and tell me if I look like a dying man.”
Just by looking at him I couldn’t tell a damn thing, and he knew it. I did know his visions had returned. He’d told me that much himself. The last time he’d had visions, they’d found a tumor on his brain. Pony had been lucky last time that they could shrink it. He beat the odds and survived his cancer by more than five years already. But if the visions were back, did that mean the cancer was too?
Pony stacked his cards and wrapped a string of prayer beads around them. “Why are you here, boy?”
I cleared my throat, folded my hands and leaned forward. “I need to talk to The Baron.”
“This have anything to do with that piece of ass that followed you in here?”
I drummed my fingers on the table, deciding how much I should tell him. At one time, Pony had been my guardian. He raised me after my father went to prison for life. Pony had given me more than just a roof and two meals a day though. He taught me how to control my magic, introduced me to the supernatural, made me the man I became.
Lydia, my kid sister, hadn’t been so lucky. She wound up with a nice middle-class family, the kind with a dog, white picket fence, and that went to church on Sundays. We stayed in contact, Lydia and me, but I’d always wondered how things might’ve been different if we’d been kept together. Maybe she would’ve seen what was coming for her. Maybe I would have been able to protect her from it.
I didn’t blame Pony for not taking her in though. He was single, of modest means, and the other family had taken good care of Lydia until she died. They just didn’t want a troubled pre-teen boy. Lydia had still been in diapers, cute. Easier to bond with. The caseworkers had made a point of telling me how lucky I was that Pony stepped in every time I got into trouble at school.
Pony never reminded me. Never asked for thanks or a pat on the back. He just worked me. Hard. Drills day in and day out. Spells and blocks until I was doing them in my sleep. I wouldn’t still be standing without everything he’d taught me.
Yet, like everyone else, he’d left me high and dry when I needed him the most. He didn’t like the fact that I charged patrons for the work I did. Didn’t like that I had a record. Didn’t like most of the choices I’d made recently, but we didn’t talk about it. Talking about it would mean an argument and neither of us had time and energy to waste on that.
“She’s a succubus,” I said. “Morningstar’s daughter.”
I thought Pony’s eyes were about to pop out of his skull. “Are you insane? What are you doing with her?” He gestured toward the main stage behind me. “And what the hell are you doing bringing her to a place like this?”
I turned around to find Khaleda sitting on the edge of the stage, a small crowd of guys around her. The mostly naked nun that had been on stage stood behind her, caressing Khaleda’s exposed collarbone. Khaleda was smiling, practically cooing at the crowd. Her skin seemed paler, almost glowing. She hadn’t taken anything off yet, but the zipper on the front of her suit had come down another inch.
“Dammit. I’ll be right back.” I pushed the chair back violently and stomped across the club toward Khaleda.
Several guys stood from their stools at my approach. Big guys. They pushed shoulder to shoulder like soldiers in a shield wall, big muscles tense and ready to throw me if needed.
Deciding I’d better not make a scene, I stopped, returned their murderous glares and called for Khaleda. “What are you doing?”
She smirked, leaned forward and drew her finger under the chin of the closest man, drawing a whole-body shiver from him. “Just enjoying the ambiance.”
“Touching. Didn’t I say look but don’t touch?”
She sighed and pulled her finger away from the man’s throat. As soon as the contact was broken, he collapsed on the stage, shoulders shaking. I thought at first he was just breathing hard, but then he choked out a sob.
Khaleda jumped off the stage and gracefully slid between the two big fellas who’d blocked my path. “These people are in pain. I’m only giving them relief from that pain.”
I crossed my arms. “Doesn’t make what you’re doing right. They’ve got no idea what you are, which means they don’t have the wherewithal to give informed consent. Stop it, or I’ll stop you.”
Her eyes traveled over me, assessing. “I’ve never thought of it that way. You’ve got a point. Why don’t you introduce me to your friend instead?”
I uncrossed my arms and grunted with a nod, turning and escorting her back to the table. She moved through the small crowd with predatory grace, eyes fixed on Pony. To his credit, Pony didn’t fall under her spell any more than I had since I realized what was going on. It seemed her superpower didn’t have as strong of an effect as long as she wasn’t touching her victim, and as long as they knew what was up.
Khaleda pulled a chair from another nearby table, spun it around and sat on it, crossing her arms over the back. “So, you’re the infamous Pony ‘Dee’ Durrant.”
Pony leveled a bored look at her, but I could sense the tension in the air. He was afraid of her. “What’s Morningstar’s investment in this?”
Khaleda gave a lazy shrug. “How should I know? I just do what I’m told. Daddy dearest told me to protect the Horseman, help him if I could. I’m expressly forbidden from killing him until this case is closed.”
Pony’s eyes never left her, but his next words were for me. “Boy, you do know what this Morningstar fellow is, don’t you?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s an Archon. Morningstar said something about owing The Baron one. Trust me. I don’t like it any more than you do but she’s been useful so far. I’m watching my ass.”
Finally, his eyes slid away from her to me. He frowned. “You’re watching her ass, boy, and don’t think I don’t know it.” He sighed. “I think I remember something about debt, yes. This should even things out to a degree between Morningstar and The Baron. I’ll be sure to let him know the debt is repaid. Is there something else you want?”
“What do you know about Famine?” I asked.
“Famine?”
“As in the Horseman.”
Pony pursed his lips and scratched at the silvery patch of beard growing down his neck. “I don’t keep tabs on the other Horsemen, so not much. But I do know that one’s missing along with the one who named him.”
“Missing?” I repeated. “How long?”
He shrugged. “A decade. Twenty. Time gets funny in the supernatural world. Horseman is a title for life. Once a Horseman dies, the mantle returns to the one who did the naming.”
“And what happens if both the Horseman and the namer die?” Khaleda asked, leaning forward.
Pony’s glare at her intensified. “That’s never happened before, but I assume the gods would have to have some sort of get-together to name a new namer. Be a hell of a thing to kill anyone with the power to name a Horseman. Not all of them are Loa. Some are…much older.”
“I’m at least ninety percent sure I’m chasing an Archon,” I said. “And his pet ghoul. I also think the ghoul used to be Famine and this Archon is controlling him. Sounds like maybe I’m looking for the Horseman and his namer. Got any tips?”
He was quiet for a minute. The music at the stage started up again and all around us the club and its patrons slowly went back to normal. Still, the silence between the three of us marched on.
“Any chance you can get out of this one?”
I shook my head. “Not a chance.”
“Then maybe that reading you just did was more for you than me.”
We both looked at the deck still sitting on the table. My throat tightened. If Pony didn’t have any advice, I was truly jumping into uncharted territory. I had to kill this guy, whoever he was. An Archon. A being without a soul, which meant my Horseman powers were utterly useless. Normal weapons probably didn’t work on him either. I had less than twenty-four hours to find and kill one of the Four Horseme
n and an Archon. Yeah, I probably wasn’t coming back from this one alive.
Pony stood, somehow prompting both Khaleda and me to stand with him. He placed his fedora on his head with a long, deep sigh. “I’ll give The Baron your message, but I don’t know how long that will take or when he’ll choose to respond, or even if he will. He’s unpredictable at best.”
“Thank you, Pony.”
He nodded. “Don’t mention it. Take care of yourself, Lazarus.” He threw a wary look over his shoulder at Khaleda. “And don’t get into trouble with her.”
I looked to Khaleda as she came up beside me, one hand on her hip and a smile on her lips.
Too late.
Chapter Sixteen
I stopped by the CVS on the corner on the way home to get a few things. Khaleda had tried to talk to me all the way home, but I shut her down. My brain was already going at a million miles an hour, and I was finding it hard to keep up with my thoughts, let alone whatever she was saying. A heaviness hung in the air inside the car, partly as a result of the silence and partly because it had started to rain.
She finally spoke up once I pulled into the parking space outside Paula’s, her voice unexpectedly small. “You don’t have to do this.”
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. “I know.”
“Morningstar wants you to.”
“I also know that. The one thing I can’t work out is why. I can think of a few obvious reasons but…” I looked at her, face focused forward. Rain raced down the window, casting shadows over her face. “Do you know about Odette?”
She nodded slowly. “Do you still love her?”
I swallowed. It’d gotten easier to talk about her over time, but it still hurt. “I don’t know. I should. She’s going to be the mother of my child. I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again. I don’t know if I can stand to look at her, knowing she manipulated me. I don’t like to be manipulated.”
Khaleda looked down at her hands. “You won’t believe me, but I don’t like it either.”
There was silence except for the sound of rain pelting the roof of the car. Water flowed through the window, pooling on the floorboards of the car, despite the plastic I’d gotten at the store as a temporary fix. As if in response to my thoughts, the plastic bowed and flexed in silent wind.
“And Beth?” she asked.
I blew out a breath and forced my shoulders to relax, letting them hit the seat. “I don’t know her. I thought I did, but we’re both different people than we used to be. I loved her before. More than I’ve ever loved anyone else. But I had years to get over her in prison. Getting stood up hurt, but mostly I just feel numb about it.”
“What’s it like?” she asked, her voice tight as if she were on the verge of tears. I saw no sign of that strain on her face.
“What’s what like?”
“Being in love.”
I studied her harder. There were lines around her eyes that hadn’t been there before as if she were straining to hold herself together. I wondered how she couldn’t know. Khaleda had to be at least as old as me, maybe older. I didn’t know how long people like her lived. And given her nature, as Morningstar called it, she must’ve been with dozens of guys, maybe hundreds. Surely somewhere in there, she found someone she cared about enough to hang out for a few months.
“You mean, you haven’t ever…?”
She shook her head. “Ever hear the saying love hurts? For me, it’s not just figurative. I can’t even touch a person who loves and is loved in return. It leaves burns behind. My one weakness.”
I turned forward again. “I never knew that,” I said, but in my heart, I hurt too. That meant I didn’t qualify. For all the women in my life, I hadn’t found one that fit the bill. “Morningstar’s the same?”
Khaleda’s laugh was bitter and high. She wiped a delicate hand under her eye. I pretended it was a raindrop that had somehow gotten into the car. “No. My father has no weaknesses. None that I’ve been able to find. He’s beautiful, perfect, beloved by everyone who serves him.”
“Well, I hate his guts.”
Her smile turned genuine, and I felt a little better at having made her smile. Khaleda might be a succubus and the daughter of one of the worst monsters in existence, but that didn’t make her unworthy of joy or love. Everyone deserved at least a little happiness.
“You ready to go inside now?” I asked.
“Are you sure you want me to?”
She didn’t seem to need permission to enter. She’d been in my apartment to kill me not that long ago, which meant she got through my wards. At least, Morningstar had let her through. In any case, she didn’t need to be invited, and I was pretty sure I couldn’t stop her if she wanted to force her way in. Her question wasn’t about that. It was a different kind of consent she sought.
Once I let her in, there wouldn’t be any going back. I was playing a dangerous game, risking everything I had for a little fleeting power. I wondered if that made me a bad person. Good intentions didn’t save good people from doing bad things.
I nodded. “Yes, I want you to.”
She got out of the car and ran for the stairs and the cover the overhang provided. It didn’t stop her from getting soaked on the way there.
My feet felt leaden as I dragged myself from the car and up the stairs to deactivate the wards and unlock the door. While Khaleda rushed inside to get out of the cold rain, it seemed to take all my effort to haul myself up and over the threshold. I suddenly ached everywhere. The day and night with no reprieve had caught up to me. More than anything I wanted to collapse on the sofa and sleep until next week. I didn’t even think I’d make it to the bed, let alone find the energy for the spell I needed to cast tonight. I pushed further anyway.
“Do you want me to help?” Khaleda asked as I set the keys in the dish beside the door.
“No.”
“Something to eat? I can order something.”
I shook my head and trudged for the shower, leaving puddles in my wake.
After closing the door and locking it, I turned the hot water all the way up and dropped my clothes wherever before climbing warily into the shower tub combo. The water scalded my back in tiny pinpricks of burning pressure. It trailed down over the rest of me with all the gentleness of claws rending the flesh from my bones. I let it because I was still cold inside, though I didn’t think water could warm me. Ever since becoming the Pale Horseman, I’d been cold. The rain had made me shiver, and the super-hot shower did little to counteract the chill that had settled in my gut.
Focus. Have to be clean, inside and out.
Trekking through the swamp hadn’t done wonders for my skin. My feet were covered in a dark gray sludge, courtesy of my ruined shoes. The rest of me was equally as disgusting. I washed it all away with care.
Magic is delicate and not just in the physical sense. Mentally, I had to be invested in every spell I cast. For the really big magic, I had to have total focus on the end result, and that was hard to do when you were unclean. There were also a lot of supernatural entities that were offended by dirt and decay, which meant it was always a good idea to do magic as clean as you could manage.
That was to say nothing of what I was about to do with Khaleda. Needed to start out clean if I was going to wind up dirty.
My rational brain rebelled as I considered it again. I didn’t love her, didn’t trust her. By all rights, I shouldn’t have been letting her into my apartment, let alone my bed, but my other options were slim. If I didn’t follow through, I’d have to kill someone or walk away completely and let Famine and the Archon finish their work. That sounded even worse. I found it easier to justify empty sex than murder.
It wasn’t like it’d be difficult. Moral objections aside, Khaleda was smoking hot. I’d been browbeating my caveman brain ever since I’d met her. I was lonely, my self-confidence shot after being jerked around by Odette and dumped by Beth. To have someone that good looking flirt with me—succubus or not—made me feel better. Under
neath all the magic and the power to see and manipulate souls, I was just like everybody else. I wanted to feel wanted. Even the illusion of that feeling was enticing enough.
None of my objections changed the way she looked at me with those smoldering eyes, the way her body had felt pressed against mine the night before when I cuffed her to the bed, that throaty purr of hers when—
I broke off the thought when I looked down at myself, sighed, and turned the cold water on full blast.
I came out of the shower just as I’d gone in, shivering and wet, only this time there was food waiting for me. She’d gotten into my fridge and put together a sandwich and some celery, which was the best that could be expected considering I really needed to get to the grocery store. Khaleda was just pulling the grilled ham and cheese off the stove to put it on the plate when I came out, tugging the same shirt back on.
She set it on the table. “I know you said no food, but I figured you’d want at least a few calories. I haven’t seen you eat all day.”
I grunted my thanks and grabbed the sandwich, wolfing down two bites.
“Would it be too much to ask if I could use your shower?”
I swallowed a mouthful of sandwich big enough it hurt all the way down and gestured to the bathroom with a celery stick. “Be my guest. There’s a spare razor and toothbrush in the cabinet if you want. I’m fresh out of clean towels. Chasing bad guys doesn’t leave much time to run laundry to the laundromat.”
She nodded but didn’t move, chewing on her lower lip. The gesture reminded me that Beth liked to do that too.
“Something the matter?” I asked.
“I’ve been in this leather all day. Not exactly relishing the idea of putting it back on, but I’m not sure you want me running around naked either.”
The last bit of sandwich went into my mouth. I chewed it thoughtfully and swallowed before asking, “Since when do I get to say what you do?”
“Fine, if that’s how you want it—”
I sighed and pulled the t-shirt I’d put back on over my head, tossing it to her. “Far be it from me to rob a lady of her modesty. Take your time. I’ve got to get the circle and stuff in order.”