Unholy Spirit (The Necromancer's Daughter Book 3)

by Genevra Black

  "You really think they're going to do that?"

  "If they have anything," Cal mumbled, "they have the balls. They burned Shipshaven to the fucking ground."

  Basile turned to look out the window again. "That was just a warm-up. They were testing to see how much they could get away with ... and the answer was murder. The ashes are barely cold and people are already making excuses for why none of them have been arrested. Plus, with those masks, most of them aren't exactly identifiable." He shook his head. "The feds are trying to weed them out, but it's too late. The damage is done, and another rally is tomorrow. You're kidding yourself if you don't think it's going to be worse, and it's gonna be the Bronx, it's gonna be Brooklyn, it's gonna be Queens or Harlem."

  Marius scrubbed his hand across his face, groaning. "If I had to guess, I would say Harlem first. It's where the Auroran temple is." His golden eyes glowed from behind the shadow of his hand, his tone heating. "I tried to warn them, but Radiant Oddfreyr seemed perfectly content to sit back and watch it happen."

  "Well, I assume the trouble won't reach him for a while," Basile said. "For the people on high, violence is only a pressing concern when it's suddenly coming for them."

  Adam stood to linger in the archway between the living room and kitchen again, glancing toward the bedroom hall. "I think I'm gonna check on Satara. What, uh ... what should we do to get ready for this thing?"

  The priest shrugged. "Feed yourself, rest until morning, warm up your magic ... pray? It's been a while since I was in a proper battle, I have to admit."

  "Shit, it'll be fine," Cal said, cracking his neck nonchalantly. "Just do what we do and wing it."

  Edie snorted. "At least we have backup this time. Usually we have to go in guns blazing with, like, six of us tops."

  "Ooh, that's right." He grinned. "We have cavalry now."

  Adam breathed a laugh and flashed a half-hearted thumbs-up. "I'll keep that in mind."

  "Keep it cool, Frankenstein. You probably won't die. Now, if you'll all excuse me"—Cal stood, stretching with a sigh—"I have to go shine my Nazi-stompin’ boots."

  Thin sunlight was just peeking over the river when Edie woke up to raised voices in the apartment.

  As she pried herself from her pillow and checked the time on her phone, she got the sense that she had woken from another of her reoccurring dreams, but the details were already becoming fuzzy. The same as before, she was pretty sure—the same as it was every few nights, with the spine-tingling river of souls.

  For a moment, she wondered if she was hearing the TV, or maybe Cal and Elle were having a spirited conversation and had forgotten that the other people in this apartment had to sleep. But no, a second later she heard Marius's voice, rising hotly, clashing with Satara’s and Cal’s.

  What the hell?

  Quickly, she swung her feet over the edge of the bed and shuffled to the door, poking her head into the hall. The heated argument was louder, but she could barely make out what they were saying in her sleepy haze. Without thinking twice, she hurried down the hall into the dining room.

  French doors on the far side of the dining room led to a terrace, and they were open. Cal stood half in, half out, hands thrown up in frustration; Elle lingered in the living room archway, watching with crossed arms. Marius and Satara, however, were both outside, the vivid with his back facing Edie and the valkyrie battle-ready with her spear. She was backed up against the parapet, glaring at him.

  Finally, Edie was close enough—and awake enough—to understand what was being said. Marius was shaking his head, fist clenched at his side. "No. This is a terrible idea."

  "You only think so ’cause that bitch didn't take anything from you, Sunshine," Cal said, stabbing an accusing finger at him. Then, to Satara, "At least give me a sec to get ready so I can come with you."

  Satara's expression was set and determined, her wings unveiled behind her. "Without the others, you'd be in danger, and I'd be responsible. I'm not putting you in danger."

  "So you're putting yourself in danger?" Marius pressed.

  "If I have to go alone, so be it, but I'm going."

  He shook his head again. "You're going to regret this."

  "Maybe," she murmured. "But I'll regret not doing anything more."

  With that, before Edie or anyone else could stop her, Satara spread her wings and lifted off the terrace. She beat the air a few times, whipping up flurries of snow from the parapet, before she veered to the side and swept behind a building.

  Marius pulled back from the terrace, cursing. When he turned and saw Edie standing there, he stopped. "Edie. I—"

  "What was that?" Panic buzzed up her spine, souring her stomach. "Where is Satara going?"

  "The Baccarat," Cal cut in, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms. "Not for high tea, either. Indriði's there."

  Marius sighed heavily, running his hand through his curls. "I tried to tell her not to go." His brows drew tightly. "She wants Astrid's spear and shield back, before we confront Daschla. Indriði fled once and she thinks she's going to try again. Satara wants to kill her first. I tried to tell her vengeance is too risky, we should err on the side of caution, but she thought we had the resources to do both things."

  "If not now, when, Sparky?" Cal demanded. "We've got the time, we've got the manpower, and she's gonna do it with or without us."

  Shooting a glare at Cal, Marius added, "Yes—Cal was supposed to help in talking her down, but she mentioned Scarlet would be there, so now he's all gung-ho about throwing our lives away."

  "Hell yeah I wanna wring that vampire bitch's neck! But she made some good points besides." The revenant rolled his eyes. "What am I s'posed to do, tell ’er she's wrong?"

  Edie rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I guess Vidarr had a little more influence on her than I thought. Marius, you realize shutting her down probably just made her run off quicker? If you'd all waited until I was awake to have this life-altering conversation, we could have gotten a plan together." She gestured to the terrace. "Now she's gone."

  Marius looked away, cursing under his breath again and pacing to the other side of the room. Elle, still silent, offered him a stick of bubblegum, and he stared at her a moment before taking it.

  Edie considered the terrace and the snow flurries beyond, mind racing. They could probably get everyone together to help Satara, but Marius was right; it was a risk. They had no idea what kind of situation they were walking into in terms of security, but Edie had to believe it would be just as bad if not worse than when they’d stormed Indriði's townhouse. And if Satara was already heading there now, there wasn't much time to prepare.

  At length, Edie asked, "How does she know where Indriði's staying?"

  Marius glared, grinding out, "Basile."

  "What? How the hell did he know?"

  "What doesn't that irreverent asshole know?"

  Edie still wasn’t used to hearing Marius curse, but she had to say, she didn't mind it. She wasn't sure how someone could make the word asshole sound so appealing, but … Okay, getting off track here. Satara is in trouble.

  "I'll text her," Edie said, already backing up toward her room. "She's upset, but she's not irrational. She'll listen to me."

  Before they could respond, she headed down the hall and collapsed onto the soft bedspread with a groan. It was starting to seem like being exhausted while battling for her life was going to be the norm.

  She crawled her way across the bed and flicked on the lamp, then grabbed her phone from the bedside table. She had a few texts from ChatsApp—Mercy and Sissel talking in the group chat about some stupid meme. Swiping away the notification, she opened her conversation with Satara. The chances of the valkyrie even having her phone weren’t good, but she had to try.

  She tapped the message field ... and froze.

  What was it Satara wanted, anyway? Weeks ago, she'd wanted vengeance. She had been willing to wait for it, but they'd all known that her end goal was to take Indriði down, avenge Astrid,
and get her spear and shield back.

  Edie had seen her struggle with that desire for vengeance. Satara, better than anyone, knew the price of constantly waging war ... what that did to the people around you. She'd watched her juggle doing her duty and protecting people with her need for justice. Edie knew her better than to think she'd put herself or them in danger for no good reason.

  And if she was being honest with herself, she wanted vengeance, too. She hadn't been very close to Astrid, but watching her die, knowing she had been obliterated from existence entirely, not even a spirit left ... Astrid could have been a stranger and Edie would still want to see Indriði suffer for what she'd done.

  Besides, it wasn't just Astrid who had been hurt. Edie doubted she would ever be able to scrub those images from her mind, and she was sure the same was true for Satara.

  Still, the urgency in Satara's voice, her unwillingness to wait even a second longer to carry out justice—that wasn't just a thirst for revenge. She wasn’t irrational. Becoming a valkyrie had changed Satara, given her domain over life and death.

  She knew something. Something that made Indriði's crime that much more heinous. Something that had made her unwilling to wait for even one more day.

  Edie didn't know what it was, but understanding and accepting were two different things. She felt that fire. There were no words she could say to Satara to change her mind. And if she was going to do this thing, they better be there to back her.

  She tapped the message field again and typed the only thing she could think of.

  [Edith Holloway]: We're with you.

  Seen: 5:20 AM

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The Baccarat loomed fifty floors above Edie, a tower of crystal that shone even under the overcast morning sky. The first twenty floors were wider than the gleaming shaft of the remaining thirty, making it look like the throne of some celestial being—a beautiful but unfeeling god, glittering and framed by black steel armor.

  She was sure she looked like a tourist, staring up at it, but that was the least of her worries. The building was more window than anything else; she'd be surprised if the Gloaming hadn't seen them coming. As she stared, she patted herself down, double-checking her weapons. Trusty machete at her thigh, dagger of truth in her coat. Marius still hadn't asked for it back, and she wouldn't argue. Gods knew she needed it more than he did.

  Beside her, Adam stood with the Genesis slung across his back, peering at the Baccarat with obvious suspicion. "I just wish we had more people," he said quietly, repeating what he'd been saying for hours now.

  Edie sighed. She'd already explained why infiltrating a place like this with a few people was better than bringing an army. If there was one mistake the Gloaming kept making time and time again, it was underestimating the Reach. But she couldn't blame him for being anxious; she was shivering with anxiety herself.

  All she said was, "I know."

  They were far from alone, though, even if it was just her and Adam going through the front entrance. Cal and Marius would enter through the kitchen, and Elle and Basile were coming from the back service entrance. Satara would join them from the roof. They'd done more dangerous things with fewer people before and survived.

  "The Blood Eagles are loyal to Daschla, not Indriði, so they won't be guarding her," Edie said, echoing what Basile had told her earlier. "But we can expect to fight through New Gloaming agents."

  "What do they usually use? Guns?"

  "Worse. Magic." She glanced over at him. "Melee weapons, too." Then she turned her gaze to the roaring fireplace set within the hotel entrance. Now or never. "Ready?"

  Adam shifted, pulling the Genesis into his hands. The frets shimmered, and it trilled softly, drawing a weak chuckle from Adam. "I guess we have to be."

  "That's the spirit." Edie gathered herself for another moment before walking forward and pushing into the vestibule.

  It was as though she had walked into a cave. Despite the enormous chandelier hanging over it and the weird light fixture taking up one of the walls, the vestibule was dim and small. It was like she really was entering a super villain's lair. She stepped in, looking ahead at the elevator—

  Something slammed into her from the left, and she crashed against the crystal light wall.

  As soon as she touched the marble floor, she was back up again, lashing out with a wild blast of magic. When she turned fully, a man dressed in black and silver lay at her feet, his body withered from the death energy she'd sent his way.

  Adam appeared a second later, looking down at the body. "New Gloaming?"

  "Yeah. They’re not too hard to spot." Edie reached back to rub her already aching shoulder. "Black-and-silver armor, raven feathers ... usually trying to kill you. That sort of thing."

  She turned her attention to the elevator again, its standard silver doors and red floor indicator almost comically out of place next to the richly carved dark wood walls.

  Their bootsteps echoed as they approached it. Above the elevator lobby were yet more chandeliers; to either side, candelabras twinkled against two mirror walls, giving the illusion of an endless hallway getting darker the deeper it went. With a shiver, Edie pressed the call button and waited.

  "There's probably usually a—" Before she could finish her thought, the doors opened, and the business end of a sword passed less than an inch from her face.

  She jumped back, and two New Gloaming—a woman with a sword and a man with fire magic wreathing his hands—rushed after her.

  The woman dove and knocked Edie to the ground, and she hit the marble tiles hard, all the air leaving her lungs. Breath-starved weakness entered her body as the woman raised her sword, poised to plunge it through her neck.

  With a shout, Edie jerked her hips as hard as she could to the side, toppling them both over. A burst of pain filled her, and though it numbed immediately, her body reacted before she could process what had happened. A burst of blue magic sent the woman sailing back. She hit the wall next to the elevator like a rag doll, more skeleton than flesh.

  Beside her, Adam was standing over the crumpled fire mage, taking slow, ragged breaths. It looked like he hadn't had time to get a note of his magic out, instead holding the guitar by its neck like a bat. With a shaking hand, he wiped blood and hair from the base of it.

  Edie glanced at the mage. She could tell without having to check his pulse that he was dead. Officially the first living person Adam had killed, as far as she knew. An image of her own first kill, the witchwolf who’d attacked her and Cal on their way to Maine, flashed through her mind.

  "Come on," she said, pulling her aching body from the floor and stepping into the elevator. He joined her silently as she pressed the lobby button, and remained quiet as they ascended a floor.

  When the doors opened, they were in a hall much brighter than the one they had just left behind. Down the corridor to the right was a door to the stairwell, and to the left, a glitzy concierge desk. At the other end of the short hall in front of them gleamed what must be the grand salon, though Edie couldn't make out much more than parquet floors and white seats.

  She stepped forward slowly, trying to keep quiet. Faintly, she could hear the sounds of fighting—shouting, swords clashing, magic hissing, a gunshot—but she wasn't sure where it was coming from. The hall leading to the sunny room was like a hall of mirrors, both walls and ceiling made of crystal squares. It was oddly claustrophobic, like she was a reptile in a glass display case, and she was happy to squeeze into the larger room.

  And to be honest, she felt like she'd just walked into an imaginary world. Everything shone and glittered, from the silk walls to the gilt display cases. What must have been millions of dollars of Baccarat crystal adorned every surface. It was like a movie set version of what a fancy French hotel should look like. Yet it was modern—the sort of luxury she imagined an ultrarich person would call subdued or elegant, maybe even understated. Uniform. Polished. Distinctly corporate. All one color, save for the vibrant red roses on every tab
le.

  The one thing that made it unique was the windows, made of thousands of shafts of crystal side by side, prisms that sliced the light into a rainbow of dancing color even under an overcast sky. It was beautiful.

  But there was no time to linger. Here and there, priceless artifacts of crystal had shattered across the floor; a few chairs were knocked over, tables jerked out of place, lampshades lopsided. The sounds of fighting had stopped. Edie was willing to bet the others had blown through this room while taking their opponents down. She and Adam just had to find their way to the bar and meet up with them.

  Edie went to the left first, peering into the adjacent room, but found only a smaller lounge filled with dark wood and an obnoxiously large chandelier. The bar must be the other way. She turned to cross the main room again but paused when she saw Adam.

  He stood in the middle of the salon, arms limp at his sides, face tipped up as he took in the room. Slowly, he turned where he stood until Edie could see his expression. Something like heartbreak, she thought. Maybe anger.

  She took another few steps forward. "Everything all right?"

  Adam was silent for a second, but even as he spoke, his gaze was stuck on the room. "I've just..."

  Edie glanced around the salon, wondering if she was missing something.

  "I've been living on my own since I was seventeen," he started again. "I slept on a bare mattress in a room I shared with two other guys. My friends and I would split a slice of pizza in half for meals. There were times in our squat we had no water for weeks, or the heat would break all winter, or the cops would come destroy our shit just to make our lives a little more miserable. We had to take materials from buildings being torn down around us just to keep ours from giving out under our fucking feet." Finally, he looked at Edie. "And twenty years later, less than halfway across Manhattan, they build this."

  She shifted, unsure of what to say.