by E. A. Copen
The man took two steps forward, hands in his pockets and I could finally make out who he was.
“Always the flippant one, aren’t you?” Morningstar said, regarding me, bored.
“You’re late.”
“On the contrary,” he said and bent over to retrieve the fallen sheut box. “I’ve arrived precisely when I meant to. Khaleda, my love, won’t you be a dear and hold onto this for me?” Morningstar handed the box off to his daughter.
I wanted to ask him what he wanted the box for—the box he’d voluntarily given to me just a month before in exchange for my three days of service—but I could barely breathe, let alone speak.
The Archon’s lip curled as he glared at Morningstar. “Who the hell are you?”
Morningstar pretended to study his fingernails. “Me?” He lowered his hand, a sick smile on his face and a gleam in his eyes. “I’m the devil he knows.”
Recognition flashed through the Archon’s eyes, and he opened his mouth to say something.
Morningstar didn’t let him speak. He lifted his foot and brought it down on the Archon’s chest. The Archon’s entire body seemed to cave in, ribs cracking, back breaking. It sounded like he’d stepped on a rotten floor beam and broken it. The Archon screamed. Morningstar simply lifted his foot and stomped down again and again until the body was reduced to pulp.
I felt myself slip closer to death. My Soul Vision kicked on all on its own, and I saw the Archon for what he truly was, a swirling black mass of clawed tentacles with a beak in the center. He looked like a squid. His tentacles squirmed free of where they held onto Jean Lafitte’s body, and he propelled himself out of the body, escaping his dying body for the second time in one evening. Only this time, he didn’t get away with it.
Morningstar reached out and plucked the swirling black mass of tentacles from the air as it tried to flee. I watched it struggle for a moment before Morningstar shook it once and pulled the monogrammed handkerchief from his powder blue suit, dropping the Archon inside it. He clenched his fist and dark ichor ran down from between his knuckles. Then the whole thing caught fire and he held it, letting it burn to ash.
“There.” Morningstar pulled another handkerchief from his pocket and used it to clean his fingers. “All done.”
I wheezed.
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” He gripped the sword sticking out of me and pulled it free.
I fell forward. The water was up to my elbows. “Ow.” After a minute, I realized I shouldn’t be feeling anything after being stabbed in the back like that. I should’ve been dead. “Why am I alive?” My voice was still wet and raspy, but at least I could talk now.
“Anubis gave you twenty-four hours, did he not?” Morningstar studied the bloody sword before flinging it into the ocean.
I blinked. He was right. Anubis had promised not to reap my soul until sunrise, which meant I still had a few hours. I hadn’t realized at the time that would make me virtually immortal for a day, or I’d have taken full advantage of that.
“Come now, daughter. Let’s get him back to shore. We’ve only until dawn to set the rest of this in motion.” He turned and walked back toward the light I’d seen earlier, which I now realized were nothing more than the headlights on his boat.
Khaleda came to my side and helped me up. “Traitor,” I muttered to her.
“Don’t be a baby. If I hadn’t left you when I did, you’d be underwater by now. Daddy never would’ve known where to look for you. This whole boat is warded. Doesn’t even appear on radar.” She slung my arm over her shoulder, and I limped forward with her help.
While I had to acknowledge she was right, I wouldn’t have been in that mess at all if she hadn’t sold me out. “Does daddy dearest know about the wad of cash you got for selling me?”
Her fingers dug into my back, and I winced. “No, and if he ever finds out, I’ll take my pound of flesh very slow, Lazarus. In one-inch strips of skin.”
Whatever, I thought. It wasn’t my place to get involved in the family feud was going on there. Khaleda was just as evil as Morningstar. I don’t know why it took me so long to see it.
“Yo, Morningstar,” I called as Khaleda helped me up the gangplank and onto the other ship.
He turned from where he’d walked to, an eyebrow raised.
“We need to make a quick stop on the way back to pick up some stowaways.”
***
I don’t remember being brought to a cabin and tucked in. I certainly don’t remember falling asleep. I’d wanted to stay up all night to make the most of my limited time, but I must’ve dozed off because I woke up in a narrow bed listening to the weather report on a radio. Apparently, a tropical depression off the coast had developed into a hurricane overnight, but a freak windstorm had blown it off course, and it died before ever making landfall. The radio hosts had called in several experts to try and explain the phenomenon. Not one of them mentioned pirates, ghosts, or necromancy.
The bed bounced, and suddenly six arms were squeezing me hard. I wheezed out a pained groan. “Easy! I got stabbed and pelted with nails!”
Violet leaned back, grinning at me.
“Told you he wasn’t dead,” Spencer said, giving her a shove.
“Nuh-uh.”
“Yes-huh.”
Brooke rolled her eyes but smiled.
“All right, that’s enough.” Khaleda appeared and herded the kids away. “Go up on deck. We’re about to make landfall.”
Spencer let out an excited cry and challenged Violet to a race, but Brooke pushed past both, her limp apparently all but healed.
I smiled, watching them run off. “What’s going to happen to them?”
“Someone I know will take them to the nearest police station and drop them off,” Khaleda said. “And after they return home, we’ll keep tabs on them.”
“To see if they can be useful.” It left a sour taste in my mouth. “You leave those kids alone.”
“You’re in no place to threaten me.”
Guess she had a point. I’d be dead in a few hours. I sighed and felt air go in through my chest. It was a hell of a weird feeling. “Guess daddy dearest doesn’t get to collect that debt I owe him. I’ll be dead come sunrise.”
“I always collect.” Morningstar hovered in my field of vision just beyond Khaleda.
“But the bite—”
“I’m aware you were bitten.” He turned his back to me and by the sound of ice clinking against glass, made himself a drink. “And I know of your deal with Anubis. He was a fool to have made it. Of course, I don’t believe he ever planned to collect on it if he didn’t have to. He likes you, Lazarus, though I’m not sure why. I find you to be most irritating.” He turned around and offered me a tumbler with two fingers of amber liquid.
I accepted it, but didn’t drink. “And yet you came to my rescue.”
“I protect my assets.”
“Almost as much as you protect your own ass,” I added.
He raised his drink to that and took a sip. “I’ve made arrangements for you to go to Faerie.”
Faerie? My heart sped up. “Where in Faerie?”
“While it seems you may have angered the Shadow Court in its entirety, you’ve also endeared yourself to Summer. The Summer Princess is about to have your child, as I understand, and the Summer Queen is very much interested in meeting you. Of course, so is the Winter Queen, the Queen of Light, and the High Queen.”
“Jesus, how many courts are there?” I took a drink. It burned a lot more than I was used to. I had to force myself not to cough.
“As many as there needs to be to maintain a proper balance.” He handed the unfinished drink off to Khaleda. “In any case, I’ve arranged for you to stay in the Summer Court at least until the Revel. Since there is no death in Faerie, that should buy you some time. Once your twenty-four hours have passed, Anubis will likely give up on reaping you so long as you don’t cause him any trouble. However, be warned. Your condition will not improve. Going to Faerie will slow th
e progression so long as you remain there, but it is not a cure.”
“So you’re saying I’ll still turn into a ghoul, just slower?”
“Indeed. Khaleda will be working on a cure for you. No doubt, The Baron will also be working on his own version. There’s no cause for alarm. Unless, of course, we take too long. I have the utmost confidence that we can find you a cure in time.” He turned to go.
“Morningstar.”
He paused and looked over his shoulder.
I met his eyes. “The sheut box. Why’d you give it to me at the bazaar if you were just going to take it back?”
“When I gave it to you, it had only part of a single soul inside. Now, it has nine.”
“Eight,” I corrected. “You’re returning Kaitlynn Michaels’ soul.”
He narrowed his eyes. “And why would I do that?”
“Because if you don’t, I’ll dedicate every waking moment of my time in Faerie to figuring out how to kill you.”
Morningstar pursed his lips. “Very well, Horseman. I’ll return it. For now.” Then, with a nod, he turned back and walked up the metal stairs and out of the belly of the ship.
Khaleda stopped to wink and blow me a kiss before she followed him.
I leaned back against the pile of pillows behind my head.
“I don’t like him,” Jean said, materializing next to me.
I turned my head, unsure at first if I was really seeing him. “Why can I see you?”
He shrugged. “Guess the blood moon gave me a little boost. I find it easier now to manifest in your plane. I’m sure it will fade over time.”
“Ah.” I closed my eyes. “Sorry I couldn’t get your body back.”
“I’m not sure I wanted it back, considering the condition it was in.” He sighed. “Oh well. It’s not your fault. Besides, I was just getting used to this ghost business. You know, as far as cities for ghosts go, New Orleans isn’t so bad. In fact, I find it very interesting. I think I may stay a while.”
“Do me a favor, Jean.” I opened my eyes and shifted the drink in my hands. “I’ve got to go away a while. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone. Where I’m going, I won’t be able to get a message to Emma, and I won’t be able to keep her out of trouble. Would you…?”
He raised a hand. “Say no more. I’ll gladly protect your lady love. It’s the least I can do.”
“She’s not my love. We had this conversation.”
“Oh, yes. I forgot.” He winked, which told me he hadn’t forgotten at all. “Take care of yourself, Lazarus. Try not to die,” he said and then drifted through the ceiling.
I looked down at the drink, shrugged, and polished it off. Where I was going, dying was going to be the least of my worries.
THE END
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A special preview of Knight Shift, book 4 of The Lazarus Codex
Hunting ghouls bites.
Literally, as Lazarus found out on his last job. Now, to keep from turning into a ghoul himself, he has no choice but to wait in Faerie while his friends work on a cure. Lucky for Laz, he's got friends in high places inside the Summer Court.
Laz is barely settled in when he's caught up in an assassination plot against the Summer Princess, who just happens to be his ex-girlfriend. With the Summer Knight injured, who better to step in and take his place protecting the royal family than Lazarus himself?
In a land with no death, however, the Pale Horseman finds himself at an extreme disadvantage. With his powers limited, and the clock ticking as the ghoul virus ravages his body, Laz had better find the assassins and cure himself fast, or he's dead meat.
Chapter One
Dying hurts.
As the Pale Horseman, I’ve died enough times to know it wasn’t the most pleasant experience. Imagine my surprise at waking up to the sound of birds chirping, the feel of warm sunlight on my face, and lying in a cloud. Somewhere nearby, a string orchestra played a soft and soothing melody that would have urged me back to sleep if not for the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Something was wrong.
I opened my eyes to an ivory domed ceiling with tree roots carved into it. Not real roots, but the carvings were clearly meant to appear root-like. Three arches stood in the wall to the right guarded by a lifelike statue of a beautiful woman with hair made of moss and a dress of the same. More carved roots crisscrossed and curled all around the room painted in gold leaf. Oil lamps hung, unlit on the wall while daylight illuminated the chamber.
The bed I lay on was soft enough that it could’ve been made from literal clouds and contoured my body perfectly. It was wide enough to sleep a family of twelve with enough pillows for that too. A hand-stitched quit with a floral pattern covered me while drapes of pastel green, fine as spider’s silk, twitched in the breeze coming from the open window.
I sat up, expecting my head to spin, but it didn’t. The last thing I remembered was stepping off Morningstar’s boat onto the docks just before sunrise. Unbearable weariness had settled into my bones along with the fever that had been burning through my body and I collapsed.
The ghoul bite! In a frenzy, I turned to examine my arm where I knew the bite would be and found myself clothed in some ridiculous oversized white shirt with ruffles. Ruffles? Hell no. I barely looked good in my normal clothes. I tore at the sleeve but it was too awkward to roll up so I pulled the whole shirt over my head and examined my arm. The bite was still there, but the skin around it was less red and furious. Probing the area with my fingers still stung, but I didn’t feel feverish. Had Morningstar delivered on his promise of a cure already?
There was a small metallic bang followed by a creak. The wooden door on the other side of the room opened and a young man stepped in carrying a tray. He was tall but had the stubborn rounded features of youth still on him. Probably old enough to vote, but not old enough to drink. Feathery auburn hair fell in a medium cut of straight hair behind pointed ears. His skin was the darkened color kids get at the beach after their first sunburn of the year. And, while I don’t say this often about men, I had to acknowledge it of him. He was pretty. The kind of pretty that makes girls swoon and blush.
He used his hip to maneuver the door and then swung it closed with a kick before turning around. “Oh,” he said, his eyes widening in surprise. “You’re awake. The Princess was certain you wouldn’t be up for another day or two.”
Princess? I blinked a few times and it started coming back to me. Morningstar had said he’d arrange for me to go and stay in the Summer Court of Faerie while he worked on a way to prevent me from turning into a ghoul. I had at least one ally in Summer, my ex-girlfriend, Odette. Though we weren’t exactly friends, we’d had our last parting on mostly amicable terms. She also happened to be pregnant with my child the last time I saw her. Time flowed differently in Faerie, so for all I knew that kid was grown up by now. Or maybe not even born yet. Screw Faerie and its unpredictable time loops.
“Uh…Yeah.” I squinted at him because he looked familiar, though I was sure I’d never met a kid with pointed ears before. “Who’re you?”
“Declan, m’lord.”
Jesus Christ. The kid even had one of those stereotypical good-looking romance hero names. Poor kid.
He tilted his head to the side. “You don’t remember me m’lord?”
“No. And I’m not a lord either.”
He seemed a little disappointed and unsure suddenly, but then remembered the tray in his hands. “Brought you some soup. It’s been easier to feed you since you’ve been out. But now that you’re awake, if you want something else…”
Feeding me soup? I rubbed
my forehead. Just how long had I been unconscious? “Declan, where am I?”
Declan looked at me, the tray, and then around the room for a place to put it down. He finally found a table near the door and lowered the tray onto it before turning around and folding his hands in front of him. “You’re in the Summer Palace, seat of the Summer Court held by Her Royal Majesty, Queen Titania.”
I’d figured as much. It meant my gut feeling that something was wrong had been correct. If I knew anything about the fae, it was that they were ruthless, scheming, and underhanded. The last time I was in Faerie, the Shadow Queen had tricked me into becoming betrothed to her and I sort of killed her. Extreme response, I know, but it made sense at the time. I’m not good at commitment. Anyway, it was thanks to that decision the Shadow Court wanted me dead. Summer was in a cold war with Shadow, so I was safer in Summer than most other places in Faerie since we shared a common enemy, but I had no illusions of actually being safe.
“You don’t remember anything, do you?” Declan frowned.
I shook my head. Fuzzy memories were starting to come back to me but they were disjointed and didn’t seem to make any sense. The images were too blurry. All I could recall were voices, feelings, and none of them seemed attached to the young man in front of me. “I remember striking a deal with Morningstar that brought me here and passing out on the docks, but that’s about it.”
“You were feverish when they brought you here,” Declan said. “For three days you fought the fever muttering incoherently about pirates and mummies, and other monsters. Thankfully, Princess Odette’s new handmaiden knows a good bit about healing magics. It’s her you owe your life to, sir. We’d have lost you to the fever if not for her help.”
I looked again at the bite mark on my arm. “Anyone tell you how I got that fever?”
“Said it was a ghoul bite, sir. But no worries. Here in Faerie, you’re protected by a spell that slows the progression. You have some time before…” He trailed off, unwilling to say the rest.