“What else did she say? Any clues to where she kept it?” Dane kept his gun aimed at the Romani’s chest.
“She loved to remind me how disappointed she was that I wasn’t the one, that I hadn’t proven myself worthy of replacing her. With no other heir, she feared the line would die and there would be no one to wield the spear and fulfill its destiny when the time came.” Maloney pulled a small locket from beneath his shirt. He pushed the small lever on the side, and the clasp popped open. He ran his thumb over the tiny photograph inside before yanking the chain off his neck and tossing it aside. “It should have been me. I was her heir. I was worthy. It was my birthright, and she kept it from me.”
“The deal you made wasn’t for vengeance against your mother’s killer, was it? Because the killer was you.” Trying to hide my shock at that particular revelation, I set the frame back down on the mantel.
“There were others who saw my value even when she didn’t. I didn’t kill my mother – Lazarus did it for me in exchange for the spear. When I failed to deliver the spear, my only other option was to deliver you.” Taking his eyes off Dane and the gun, Maloney looked at me and smiled. “You proved to be a far easier task than outwitting my mother. Her secrets died with her.” He spat on the floor again and whispered something that sounded like a real curse and not just a string of profanity.
“You had your mother murdered and were going to hand over the one thing she spent her life trying to protect to Apollyon?” Suddenly his betrayal of me didn’t seem so bad. “All because you weren’t the chosen warrior?”
“We all have our sins, Jacqueline. I’m paying for mine.” Maloney stood at the sound of the doorbell, smoothing his pants as he rose.
“Ah, some of my favorite people. Delightful to see you again, Jacqui-girl.” Without waiting for our host to open the door, Apollyon strode into the parlor as if he owned the place.
He owned Maloney, so I guess technically he did own the place.
Dane jumped from the couch, closing the distance between us in mere seconds. Standing in front of me with his gun up and one arm out across my middle, he attempted to block me from Apollyon.
But the Devil only had eyes for the Romani. I certainly wasn’t complaining.
“Time’s up, Maloney.” One moment Apollyon was less than two feet away from Dane and me, the next he was standing beside Maloney with a hand on the Romani’s shoulder. “I’ve come to collect what’s mine.” He gave me a little wink followed by a smug little smile. “Don’t worry, dear, you’re next. All in good time.”
The Elioud stirred, a fluttering low in my belly in anticipation of the fulfillment of his promise to come back for us. Dane took a step backward, closer to me, as I fought the urge to step forward, closer to Apollyon.
“I would ask the angel what the real purpose of the spear is.” With a nod to the Devil, Maloney signaled that he was ready.
The Devil and Maloney may have disappeared from sight, but Dane and I both knew their destination. Too bad we didn’t know what the hell he’d meant about the spear.
“Well, that wasn’t ominous or anything.” Dane holstered his gun before turning to make sure I was all right – mentally, not physically. Cupping my face in his hand, he ran his thumb along my brow. “You okay?”
Am I okay? That was a loaded question if I ever heard one. I was far from okay. In fact I couldn’t recall the last time I’d actually been okay. I was damaged goods, more than ever before, but I didn’t want to be treated like some china doll that might break at any moment. So, rather than lean in to his hand, rubbing my cheek against his palm and stepping into his embrace, I looked into his eyes and lied.
“Never better.”
“Good.” Dane knew I was lying – I saw it in his eyes, heard it in his voice – but he left it alone. “So I guess we toss the place?”
“Yeah, we toss the place.”
For the next thirty minutes we ransacked the King house, looking for any clues to the spear’s location Lala may have left behind. We emptied drawers, flipped through books to see if anything was hidden between the pages, ripped open throw pillows and cushions. As I’d feared, we came up empty.
“Dead end after dead end. I’m getting sick of this shit.” Waving a hand in front of my face to clear away the small pieces of couch stuffing floating in front of me, I walked over to the one place we’d left relatively untouched.
Lala’s card table. Neither of us felt right disturbing the tarot cards set up on the small wooden table. Dane carefully searched for hidden drawers or compartments, but left it otherwise the same as it had been the last time the Romani queen had been alive. Five cards in a stairstep pattern had been prepared for a reading. Unfamiliar with tarot cards and their meanings, I took a picture of the spread in case there was some significance behind the particular placement or card selection.
“The fool, the hanged man, the devil, the tower, and death.” Dane pointed to each card. “I feel bad for whoever got this reading.”
“I have no idea what any of that means, but it looks like my life story. I think we can all agree I was a fool to make a deal with the Devil. I pretty much tied a rope around my neck with my decision.” Following the same order Dane had used to point out the names of the cards, I took a stab at explaining their significance. Too bad I was only half joking. “The Devil card is self-explanatory. I’m not sure what the tower means, and I’m really hoping death is wrong but…”
“Death doesn’t really mean death. Well, no, I take that back. It can, since death is an ending, but it means transition. Cycles, a beginning and an end, that sort of thing.” Dane scratched his head, giving the cards more attention than he had before.
“How do you even know that?” With a chuckle, I shook my head in mild disbelief.
“I spent a lot of time among the Romani looking for my sister. There was this girl, Pixie…” He paused, lost for a moment in his memories, before shrugging his shoulders. “I picked up a few things.”
“There’s always a girl. They’ll get you into trouble every time. Pixie, huh?” With a half smile, I playfully bumped his hip with mine. “I wonder what tricks you’ll claim to have picked up from me.” Even with my quasi immortality, it was unlikely I’d outlive Dane. Especially if the way things were going was any indication.
“Oh, I’ll be sure to blame you for all my bad habits.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a quick sideways hug, and kissed the top of my head before letting go. “You know, you may only have been kidding about this reading being for you, but the more I look at it, the more I’m starting to think it was.”
“You think she did a reading for me before Lazarus cut off her head? Maloney is a more likely suspect. Probably trying to freak us out or something.”
“It’s possible.” With a sideways glance in my direction, Dane shrugged again. “We’ll look at the picture you took later; go over the cards, see if there’s any significance to them.”
“You really think there is?” Even as I asked the question, the death card, with its skeleton rider dressed for battle in full armor atop a white steed, continued to capture my attention.
Something about the card called to me. The more I stared at Death, the more a crazy idea took hold of my mind. I hesitated, my hand hovering above the card for a moment before I shook off the superstition and picked it up. Nothing metaphysical happened. No jolts of magic arced through my body. But holding the card did do one thing. Solidified the idea for our next course of action. All I had to do was convince Dane to go along with it.
“I think I know where Lala hid the spear.” Careful to place it within the outline formed in dust on the velvet tablecloth, I set the card back in its place among the others in the spread.
“You gleaned all that from a tarot card?” Dane picked up the card, turning it over a few times before setting it back down again.
“Not just the card, no. Something Maloney said earlier planted the seed, but looking at the death card, the bodies there along the bottom, that’
s when it hit me.”
“Illuminate me, then.” Dane turned, a smile on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest and waited for me to dazzle him with my amazing idea.
“Where was Lala buried?”
“I’m not sure, but it shouldn’t be too hard to find out. Wait, tell me you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking.”
“We’re going to need a shovel.” Grabbing him by the arm, I led him out of the house and back toward the car.
“Where to?” With a groan and some griping about my hare-brained idea, he hit the unlock button on the key fob.
“Ace is the place. Or at least that’s what they say on the commercials.” Clicking my seatbelt into place, I tossed my messenger bag onto the floor by my feat.
“Thinking of quitting the demon hunter gig and starting your own landscape company?” After adjusting the rearview mirror, he pulled away from the curb and headed toward the hardware store.
“Hmm, it is tempting. You get to be outside, no sulfur or brimstone burning your nostrils, no demon gunk in your hair.” Pushing the little button on my armrest, I cracked my window to let in some fresh air. “I’ll need a crew chief. Know anyone who might be interested?”
“I might. Let’s wait and see how things go at the cemetery.” Dane adjusted the rearview mirror again before flicking the turn signal to indicate a left turn. His jaw twitched, an indicator that something was wrong. “I think someone’s following us.”
“What?” Whipping my head around, I tried to see over the headrest.
“Don’t turn around. It’s a black sedan two cars back.” He used the controls on the steering wheel to adjust the side mirror. “While a black car in the city isn’t innately suspicious, the fact that it appeared right after we left Maloney’s is. There’s nothing else around his house.”
“Could just be a dealer.” I tried to see any discernible details, but it looked like every other black car to me. “Like you said, there’s nothing around. Not a bad spot if you’re trying to make a deal and avoid the cops.”
It was entirely plausible, especially in the city, but we kept an eye on the car the rest of the drive. When we made a turn, they made a turn. Careful to stay at least two cars back, when we crossed through the next intersection, the black sedan had to speed up to make the light. Curious to see if they were bold enough to follow us into the store, we stayed in the car after Dane pulled into a parking space. But the car drove past and turned right onto the next street at the traffic light.
“See, like I said, probably just someone looking to make a deal.”
“Yeah, probably.” Dane sounded as unconvinced as I felt. Turning off the ignition, he got out of the car and waited for me on the sidewalk.
With one last glance out the car window for our possible tail, I got out and followed him into the hardware store.
Chapter Thirteen
One cart loaded with flashlights, batteries, two shovels, a crowbar and a pickaxe later, we made our way through the lengthy checkout line. After digging through my bag for exact change, I handed over a large chunk of our monthly allowance to the cashier, and proceeded to follow Dane out to the car.
“Where do you think the money comes from? Tithes?” Shoving the mile-long receipt into the front pocket of my jeans, I almost bumped into him when he stopped short on the sidewalk.
“What?” Looking left and right, he was obviously searching for the black car. Something I should have been doing as well. “What about tithing?” Satisfied the sedan hadn’t reappeared, he pushed the shopping cart down the little ramp and popped the trunk.
“Don’t you ever wonder where it all comes from? The money, the apartment, the car?” Grabbing the crowbar, I helped him load up the trunk.
“I hadn’t given it much thought, no.” After trying every possible angle, Dane set the shovels back in the cart and opened the rear passenger door. Wedging them between the floorboard and the roof, he quickly shut the car door before they had a chance to fall out. “But if you want to talk finances, I have to tell you, I don’t think this job pays nearly enough.”
“Actually, it doesn’t pay at all. Unless of course you count karma credits for saving the world.”
“Obviously you’ve never heard the phrase ‘karma’s a bitch’?” Dane gave me a little wink before getting in the car. Reaching across the front seat, he opened my door for me. “Come on, let’s go grab a burger or something. You can’t go grave-robbing on an empty stomach.”
“Actually, I might prefer an empty stomach.” With a shudder, I got in the car and shut the door.
“You can eviscerate a demon and you’re worried a corpse is going to upset your stomach?” Dane backed out of the parking space and headed toward the closest drive-thru.
Clearly I’d misjudged my stomach. The rumbling and growling started as soon as the first hint of burgers and fries wafted through the car window. Shoving a straw in the bucket of soda Dane handed me, I gulped down a few sips, letting the sugar and caffeine do their job. Balancing the massive plastic cup in the cup holder, I took the two grease-stained bags and pulled out my fries before Dane drove away from the window.
“Do you think you can stop making out with those fries long enough to tell me where we’re going?”
Managing something close to an apology around a mouthful of food, I wiped my greasy fingers on my jeans and grabbed my phone. Scanning through the news article results of my Google search, I finally found the location of Lala’s grave.
“Make a left here on Warrick, then a left on Franklin. That’ll take us pretty much the whole way. The entrance is off 40.” Grabbing the soda, I washed down a fry that had gotten lodged in my throat.
“I know where that is. Don’t eat all the fries.” Veering left into traffic, he reached across my lap and dug into the bag, pulling out a handful of fries.
I’d all but eaten my entire combo meal by the time we reached the cemetery. Dane drove around to the back, away from view of the highway. Pulling off the single lane road that led visitors around the burial grounds, he parked in a secluded spot beneath an old willow with branches hanging low enough to partially block our car.
“You know, you should always go with your first instincts.” Groaning, I lowered my seat back and tried to get comfortable while we waited for the cover of full dark. “I would have felt better on an empty stomach.”
“You would have felt better if you’d actually chewed your food.” Crumpling his wrapper and shoving it into the empty bag, Dane finished off the rest of the soda before putting his seat back as well.
At some point, I nodded off. Dane nudged me awake and got out of the car. Night had rolled in thick and heavy while I’d napped in the car. Rubbing my eyes in an attempt to get them working and wake up, I stretched as much as I could while still in the passenger seat before joining him by the trunk.
“First things first. Find the grave.” Dane tossed a flashlight in my direction as he clicked his on.
We split up, two spotlights sweeping row after row of marble tombstones. The cemetery had fallen into disrepair. Weeds overran the stones, blocking most of the names. Others were weather-beaten, the engravings worn and hard to decipher. Those were the good ones. The majority of the stones had fallen over at some point, or were broken in half. The dead at West End Cemetery had long been forgotten.
The condition of the markers and graves made finding Lala an agonizingly slow process. The adrenaline needed to dig up a body had all but waned by the time I pushed the milkweed plants out of the way and illuminated the first of the King tombstones with my flashlight. It wasn’t Lala, but at least I was in the right area. With a low whistle, I called for Dane, signaling my exact location with my light. He weaved his way through the rows of the dead, careful not to cross directly over the graves . At my quizzical expression, he explained it was bad luck to walk over the dead.
“If it wasn’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all.” I wasn’t a superstitious person, but I found myself stepping
to the side of the actual grave when I shoved the overgrowth out of the way and showed him the King name.
“She’ll be in this row or the next.” Chuckling at my position beside the tombstones, he shone his light on the row in front of us. “You finish this one. I’ll start on the next. She’s got to be close. How many Kings could there be?”
As it turned out, there were a lot of Kings buried in West End. And I mean a lot. Twenty minutes and five rows of King family graves later, we reached the last of the tombstones bearing the Romani surname. Three markers made up the last row. Melina “Lala Rose” King rested next to her father. The last of a royal line. The last of the family to be laid to rest.
A rest we were about to disturb.
“There’s got to be a special place in Hell for people who dig up dead people.” With a shake of his head, Dane turned to go back to the car for the rest of our gear.
“That’s a moot point given my overall predicament. Don’t forget the pickaxe. We’ll probably need it to pry open the casket.”
“What do you think they buried her in? A pine box?” Without so much as a backward glance, he made his way back to the car, taking all of five minutes to grab our haul from the hardware store and round-trip it back to me.
Two shovels made shorter work of the digging, but damn, six feet under is a long way down when you’re not using a backhoe. Covered in dirt and sweat, we both sighed in relief when the first shovel hit something solid. With renewed fervor, we shoveled out as much of the remaining dirt as possible and brushed away the rest.
“Don’t look so smug. There’s no way you could have known about this.” Dane gestured to the multiple wraps of heavy chain and triple locks that secured the casket. “And there’s no way you’re prying those links apart with a pickaxe. We need bolt cutters. They’re in the trunk.” Forming a little basket with his hands, Dane offered to give me a boost.
“I don’t suppose you have a step ladder in the trunk too?” Looking up at the topside of the grave, there was no way I was boosting him out when we were done.
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