by Summa, S. E.
Yep, big hole in the wall.
Seraphina dressed quickly and went down the hall to wash her face, brush her teeth, and take care of other necessities. When she emerged, Marceau was speaking rapidly to their unwelcome guest. He stopped as soon as he saw her.
“Ah, Marceau is trying to convince me to leave, but I have only just arrived.” Death’s smile showed too many teeth for comfort.
“Coffee. I need major caffeine if I have to play head games with The Joker over there.” Seraphina turned toward the kitchen.
Marceau’s eyes bulged and his mouth fell open. He started to hold a hand up for his benefactor as if pleading for mercy.
Death laughed again, long and loud.
“Lighten up, Marceau,” Seraphina said as she walked past him. She poured a cup of hot, black coffee in a mug that read, WITCH, PLEASE next to a broomstick. Returning to the living room, she sat on the love seat and patted next to her. Marceau came and joined her, but at the edge of the seat. His posture ramrod straight.
Seraphina sighed and took a sip of her coffee. Sumatra, yum. “Where are Finn and Khat? I’m sure if they were home, Mr. Giggles here would have gotten their attention by now.”
Marceau said, “Seraphina, please. I don’t understand how he has suddenly developed a sense of humor, but please don’t push too hard. They went out to get supplies. Groceries and such.”
Death said, “Nonsense. I rather like you unfiltered. I will allow you one warning if you begin to cross me too harshly.”
“Thanks,” she replied and took another drink.
“Am I to believe the Sin Eater’s hex is gone as well?” Death asked.
“Yes,” she answered.
“Enlighten me, Marceau. I had thought this one was beyond even your clever tricks and loopholes, or I wouldn’t have sent you here. I bound their curse myself, after all.”
Seraphina narrowed her eyes. Sent him here?
Marceau said, “Answer me this first, Maximilian. Was all of this plotted? Did you ever even want the Blackthorne Grimoire? Or did you send me here to meet Seraphina and Finn?”
Death smiled lazily and rubbed a grotesque carving on the head of his cane. A snake? A dragon? She could not quite make out what it was. The thing had fangs, though.
“I’ve owned the Blackthorn Grimoire for over a hundred years. I’m the one who donated it to the symphony’s charity auction. I also made sure a customer just happened to leave an open auction guide on the counter for fair Seraphina as he checked out in her quaint, little apothecary. I needed her to attend the auction.”
Seraphina set her coffee cup down on her leg. It had all been planned?
“I did not, however, anticipate your resourcefulness in bewitching the auction so Marceau could not carry out my order and procure the book back for me. I intended to lure you back to New Orleans with my handsome protégé and the promise of the spells within my grimoire.”
Seraphina asked, “Why are you interested in me at all? I don’t understand what you want from me.” Her mind reeled. What could Death possibly want? Finn, she sort of understood. Marceau had warned her about how Death would want to enslave Finn, but why would that require her to go to New Orleans?
Death answered, “I popped into town a while back to peek at my Sin Eater’s progress and visit an old friend. Imagine my surprise when I sensed energy similar to my own in your magic, dear. You are quite unusual. And I am very curious as to how you came to have such powers.” He leaned forward. “I had originally intended to use your death to force Marceau’s hand and recruit my Sin Eater’s soul, but after seeing you, I realized you are quite a prize yourself.” Death licked his lips. “I decided after I had their allegiances secured, I would rather keep you for myself.”
Seraphina’s skin crawled at the idea. Death’s expression was sexual, and she’d be damned before she would ever let him touch her in any way.
Marceau reached over and laid his hand on Seraphina’s knee. Great, under other circumstances, she might have found his protectiveness cute, but at the moment, she wanted Death to keep talking. He had stopped now and only stared at Marceau’s hand on her leg.
“If I am such a prize, then why did you manipulate all of us to make me die?” She paused. “Oh, right. Death isn’t a big deal to you.”
“No, that’s where things went off track actually. I planned to threaten your death to force Marceau into an accord. You see he’s resisted a bargain of mine for many years. But I know how he’s pined to end his loneliness. I thought his noble nature was the key to making him submit. Imagine my pleasure when I realized he actually seemed to care for you, making my plan a sure win.” He shook his head. “Then you went and died for him. Your death threw a wrench in all my meticulous planning. Perhaps, if I had timed my arrival for a day or two sooner,” he mused.
“I’m sorry my death was such an inconvenience.”
Maximilian stared at her. “And yet, here you sit, very much alive.”
Finn and Khat walked in. Finn dropped one of his bags and a peach rolled across the floor. He gaped at Death sitting on his couch.
Death looked amused by his reaction. “Sin Eater, are you not happy to see me again?”
Finn did not answer. He grabbed the dropped bag, scooped up the errant fruit, and went straight into the kitchen.
Khat stood in the doorway staring at Death. “You?” she finally managed. “You are Death?”
“I do prefer your true form, you know that,” Death answered and winked.
Khat raised her head and walked past them. She joined Finn and both of them banged groceries and cabinet doors.
Seraphina wondered how Khat knew Death and when he had seen her in her true form? She sat back and drank her coffee.
No one spoke until Finn and Khat finished slamming things around in the kitchen. The pair of them stood awkwardly in the kitchen wondering what to do next.
“Please, do join us.” Death gestured at the room left beside him on the couch.
Finn grabbed two dining room chairs and dragged them across the floor. He placed them close to his friends, and therefore, as far from where Death sat as possible. Khat nodded as though she approved and joined Finn.
“Now, where were we?” Death asked. He did not seem put off in the least by Finn’s resistance to sitting close and making friends.
Seraphina said, “You were explaining how you’ve been manipulating all of us—you donated the grimoire to the auction, wanted me to chase Marceau back to New Orleans like a lovesick stalker so Marceau can submit, whatever the hell that means. Oh, and my powers over death excite you, but my actual death this week was quite an inconvenient annoyance.”
Death cracked a wicked smile. “Excellent summarization.”
Finn asked, “What exactly is it you expect from me, Death?”
Khat reached out for Finn’s hand, and they both sat rigid in their chairs.
“When I dropped in to check on your progress, I was quite impressed. I believe you’re the one I have been searching for. The Sin Eater that’s strong willed enough, stable enough to become the general of my newly reanimated legion.”
“Reanimated?” Marceau whispered.
“Your legion of what?” Seraphina asked.
“Why of the undead, of course. Surely, Marceau has shared with his young lady love what it is he does for me?” Death looked at the confusion on Seraphina’s face and the defeat on Marceau’s. He sat back and clapped slowly. “Oh, this is entertaining.”
Seraphina said, “He breaks curses. He helps you get rare, magical items to add to your collection. I assume you make him weave some hexes too.”
“There is more, Seraphina.” Marceau’s voice was soft, resigned.
Death said, “Oh, yes, he does all those things for me. But that’s not his true talent, not even close. I could have any number of thieves steal for me. While I admit his talent for curses is impressive, it is how he uses that particular talent that makes him valuable.”
Marceau snapped, “If
you’ve somehow raised an army, then clearly I am not alone in those talents either.”
“Ah, I have been very busy indeed. But you and your theories were the keys to figuring it all out.” Max’s gaze focused on Seraphina as if wanting to capture her reaction to his next sentence. “You see Marceau’s true talent lies in reanimation.”
“Reanimation?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m sure you have noticed he has quite a flare for the scientific? Well, he combines sound scientific principles with his abilities as a curseweaver to circumvent the laws of nature. You see, Marceau is quite adept at raising the dead.”
Seraphina sucked air in through her teeth and stood. “It’s not true. She said he did, but I didn’t believe her. You’re both lying.”
Death’s smile was long gone. “She who?”
Seraphina ignored him and looked to Marceau. “Tell me, it’s not true. Look me in the eyes. You do not use your power to bring back the dead, right?”
Marceau opened his mouth but said nothing.
“Are you the one who did it to Lynette?” Seraphina demanded. “I assumed it was him”—she pointed back at Death—“or is it your fault she’s still here? Why she’s so different from how she used to be, so unnatural?”
Marceau closed his eyes and his shoulders dropped as he exhaled.
“How exactly do you know of my Lynette? Or how she moves?” Death asked.
Seraphina realized her mistake, but it was too late.
Death leaned forward and slammed the tip of his cane into their stained concrete floor hard enough it should have cracked. The doorknob rattled downstairs. Someone was trying to come inside.
Finn started to stand.
“Don’t bother,” Death said and waved his hand in the air.
The antique bell above the door rang as it opened. The distinctive click-clack of high-heeled shoes crossed the hardwood of the apothecary. Death had opened their carefully locked doors with a simple flick of his wrist.
Lynette and another blonde girl emerged from the stairwell. They wore matching baby-doll cut dresses and their hair bobbed in tight Shirley Temple style ringlets.
“Lynette, you seem to already know.” Death glared at her. Lynette raised her chin, but Seraphina noticed it trembled. “Have you already met Babette, as well?”
Seraphina looked at the young woman holding Lynette’s hand and said, “No, I had no idea about your zombie girlfriend collection. What is the deal with their names?”
Death smiled and then turned to Lynette. “We will have much to discuss later.”
Lynette cringed against her creepy companion. Babette laid her head on Lynette’s shoulder. She raised their clasped hands and licked the back of Lynette’s hand closing her eyes as if savoring the taste.
“How did you come to possess a legion of undead soldiers, Maximilian? I’ve raised as few corpses as possible over the years.” He looked at Seraphina as if willing her to understand. “I have certainly not raised an army.”
“The legion, my soldier’s bodies, have been lying in wait ever since I became the Mistress’s apprentice. Three thousand of the finest warriors Greece ever produced. I never dreamed when I bargained with the Mistress that it would take me this long to command them again.”
“I’ll have no part in it. You cannot force me to reanimate that many…” Marceau stood, his fists clenched.
“Save your moral objections for someone who cares for such nonsense. Besides, it’s already done. That’s why it has taken me so long to come to Nashville, the reason I let you linger here. I needed you out of the way while my legion was reanimated.” Max stroked the top of his cane. “Now I’m ready for phase two. Once my Sin Eater is in place, I will join their minds into a new hive and remove their shackles. The Sin Eater’s mind will be linked with mine, and as my general, he will command them. I will finally be able to unleash my warriors upon humanity. The time for supernaturals to take their rightful place is upon us.”
Finn glared. “I’m not leading some undead army. And you sure as hell aren’t getting inside my head. I will not bargain with you again, Death.”
“Not even to keep shimmery skin on your lovely little djinn?” Death laughed. “I can be quite persuasive.”
Finn looked at Khat, alarmed.
It was Marceau who spoke, “It matters not, Finn. He’s lying, playing one of his games. There’s no way he was able to raise three thousand corpses.”
“He tells the truth,” said Babette. “He forced the other blue-eyed ones. Used their love for each other as a weapon. They raised corpse after corpse until they collapsed from exhaustion or death.”
“Other blue-eyed ones?” Lynette asked Babette.
Babette nodded. “As a surprise, he took me to watch them awaken the final group of soldiers last night. They’ve been reanimating them nonstop ever since I was created.”
“How is that possible?” Lynette asked. “Who has been raising them?”
Death smiled. “Your sister’s descendants, of course. I took your entire family the night you died.”
“No, no that cannot be.” Lynette shook her head. “I would’ve known.”
“You know what I allow and nothing more. I saw your power over curses and recognized the potential of your bloodline. They have lived in a village within the Bayou Sauvage ever since. For fear of inbreeding lessening their power, I have supplemented their numbers with fresh, powerful supernaturals with which to procreate. My experiments have resulted in enhanced powers even I had not imagined.”
“They are people, not livestock. My family,” Lynette yelled.
Death ignored her outburst and spoke to Marceau instead, “So you see, Marceau, I’ve had quite the number of L’Argent curseweavers at my beck and call”—he shrugged—“until their numbers dwindled while raising my legion, that is.”
Marceau said, “You told me you rescued me from a mental institution. You said my family abandoned me. And you saved me.”
“Oh, stop with the melodramatics, Marceau. I did save you in my own way. Instead of living in a secluded village in my swamp and being used as L’Argent breeding stock”—he glared at Lynette—“you were raised in the lap of luxury and excess. You never wanted for anything.”
“Except love. Except family. Do I have a mother? A father? Siblings?” Marceau’s fists clenched.
Death raised his chin. “Perhaps, you are a little too eager for those answers. I believe I will withhold that particular information until an appropriate bargain has been made.”
Marceau started forward. “Damn you, Max. Damn you and your games and bargains.”
Death’s lip curled back. “Mind yourself, apprentice.”
Seraphina and Lynette both grabbed Marceau’s shoulders. Seraphina took his hand, twining their fingers together and squeezing.
When he spoke again, he was calmer. “Why did you choose me then? Why did you take me in as a boy? Why did I gain your favor?”
Death said, “Even as a child, your power was particularly strong and your mind was sharp. But in truth, it was a reading from a djinn. Khatereh’s mother, in fact.”
Khat’s head snapped up.
“She prophesied the male L’Argent born with the hex visible in his skin would be the one to master reanimation, the one to aid my search for a suitable Sin Eater. I checked each babe born in the village. I knew, within minutes of your birth, you would be my champion and the key to awakening my army. I let you stay with your family until you were at a manageable age to tutor in cursework. When you were seven, I had your memory removed. The rest you know.”
“My entire life has been controlled, predetermined? To help raise some grotesque army of the undead? To entrap Finn? And now Seraphina?” Marceau sank back against Seraphina. The realization wounded him. Somewhere deep inside Marceau was an echo of a young boy trying to please his mysterious benefactor. Seraphina doubted much exchange of love or affection had happened in Marceau’s early years. He’d admitted as much once when she asked about his child
hood. Yet Marceau struggled with complex feelings. Death had raised him.
Death said, “I’ve answered enough of your questions, Marceau. Now, you will answer mine. How did you break the curse?”
“I came and helped them,” Lynette answered in complete defiance.
“And why exactly would you risk it? How could you possibly escape my compound? You’re not exactly the generous sort, Lynette. What did they promise you?”
“The one thing I have wanted most, all these years.”
Death looked at her puzzled. His confusion changed to shock. “I can no longer reach your mind. How can that be? I would have noticed.”
“You’ve been too self-absorbed or amused by Babette to notice much else these last few weeks.” Babette snuggled into Lynette’s side. “But, yes, I am finally free of your damned hive. My thoughts are mine and mine alone. I am complete. You can no longer torture me with promises to make me whole or threaten to keep my soul split forever.”
Death asked, “With Seraphina indisposed, who pulled aside the veil?”
“I did,” Khat answered.
“You?” Max snorted. “Clever girl. I did not realize a mixed breed like yourself was capable of much more than provocative dancing.”
Khat grabbed Finn’s arm. With clenched teeth, she said, “Don’t let him win. Do not react to that.”
“And how did you separate Lynette from my hive?”
Seraphina said, “None of this matters. We’re free of the curse. Finn has no reason to sacrifice himself to save me and neither does Marceau, for that matter. We just want peace. We can finally live in freedom.” Seraphina prayed Death would just leave.
“Freedom,” Death repeated. He looked at each of them, then laughed. “All are mine in time. Even those who court immortality can fall victim to Death’s desires.”
A threat toward Finn and Khat.
“I suppose you hope to remain here, Marceau? Do you really think you can abandon me so easily? I have invested too much in you. Remember, I may have L’Argents still locked away.”
A threat toward Marceau and his surviving family.
“And you, fiery Spellcaster, you think I will leave you to pierce the veil and commune with my dead at your whim?”