by E. A. Copen
I made a fist. “How long do I have until he breaks through?”
“It depends on how much power he has already. Considering the state of the world? He has a ready supply of chaos to draw upon. And you are a significant source of magic, Lazarus. If he drains you…” The Baron didn’t need to finish.
“All his victims have been attached to a single place,” I said. “Think that’s where he means to come through?”
Samedi sighed. “You plan on fighting.”
“I don’t plan on dying. I’d much rather go down fighting. If you check my track record, you’ll find I’ve got a knack for the impossible.”
He acknowledged the point with a nod. “If you insist on pursuing this, then you should know what I’ve told you is the extent of my knowledge. But there is another who may be able to help, though his help comes at a steep price. One you may not be willing to pay.”
“Anything to save the world,” I groaned. “What’ll it cost me?”
“Not much.” The Baron uncoiled a fist, fingers stretching gracefully. “Just your eyes.”
Chapter Eighteen
I blinked, suddenly aware of just how attached I was to my eyes. “I’m not just going to pluck my eyes out of my head on the off chance of getting some information.”
“This is more than an off chance.” The Baron rolled his eyes. “This Titan exists in the realm of dreams. You need someone who is an expert in such a thing. You need the Sandman. Just speaking to him carries a price. He’ll want to borrow your vision for a time. If anyone knows anything about this Titan, it will be the Sandman.”
Trading my ability to see for information that could save the world seemed a small price in principle, but I’d be trading more than my eyesight. If I couldn’t see, I couldn’t take care of Remy. Couldn’t drive. Couldn’t live on my own. My magic would be more difficult to use, and life, in general, would change as I knew it. But he hadn’t said it would be permanent. “What do you mean for a time? How long?”
Samedi shrugged and finally lowered his hand. “That’s not up to me. You’d have to negotiate terms with him. This is all assuming he even agrees to meet with you. He might not.”
A negotiable deal was better than permanence. I could live without my eyes for a couple of hours, maybe a day. Any longer than that and I’d need to significantly change my daily life until it was restored. But at least I wouldn’t be dead and the world wouldn’t end.
I still had another lead to run down, though, which meant I might not need this Sandman, depending on what Littlefox had to say. Still wouldn’t hurt to have it set up if Littlefox didn’t have the answers I was hoping for.
“Set up a meeting.” I nodded. “And if you know of anything else that can help—”
“I’ve already told you the extent of my knowledge, boy. The Titans predate me by many years, and this is not a topic gods discuss openly. You would have better luck getting them all to sit down and discuss their differences than to hear tales of the Titans.”
In other words, it was impossible. The one thing gods didn’t do is talk things out like sensible people. I groaned inwardly and wished I could just fall over, but there was one more thing I needed to know.
“This circle on the floor,” I said, gesturing to our feet, “do you know what it’s for?”
The Baron stepped back, his thin lips dropping into a deep frown as he studied the circle Josiah and I had carved. “A dream circle? I haven’t seen one of these outside the pages of a book since…Well, ever. It even looks correct. Congratulations.”
“I’d love to take credit, but I actually owe it to the half-angel who helped me kick the Devil’s ass.”
Samedi gave me a heavy look, one that said he’d rather be anywhere other than talking to me. So, he had known angels were a thing, yet somehow failed to mention them. Yet another oversight, I was sure. What a dick.
He pursed his lips and squinted at me. “You know what it is, and you know who made it, yet you ask me for guidance for what it does. I suppose this means your angel friend is unavailable, and you lack the training in magical theory. Perhaps you should prepare better. Perhaps get some books on the subject.” He sighed and stared at the circle, moving his head back and forth as he scanned the details. “When humans dream, their consciousness connects to the Demos Oneiroi. You’re not truly transported there, but rather able to see and interact with the place on a limited scale. In return, the residents and powers of that place can interact with you. When the Titans were removed from the Demos Oneiroi and imprisoned in Tartarus, human minds were granted much greater control of the land, able to shape much of it to their will. Inside an active dream circle, that cannot happen. Your consciousness remains trapped in the body, unable to dream.”
I spread my arms. “Sounds great. Sign me up.”
“Dreams play an important role in the human world, idiot, both physically and mentally. Without the ability to dream, your body cannot enter REM sleep, which takes a toll on your brain. Eventually, the brain begins shutting itself off to undergo waking REM.”
“Like hallucinations?” I asked.
Samedi nodded. “Exactly. But that’s not it. The hallucinations are only the beginning. As things break down and get worse, you’ll find your choices uninhibited by morals. Urges become more difficult to control. For someone with magic, that’s a dangerous state. Even more so for a Horseman. I don’t recommend extended stays in an active dream circle. No, this is not a solution. Not long-term.”
I studied the design carved into the floor. Josiah said he never slept without one. Maybe that was why he was so grumpy all the time, though I hadn’t known him to suffer from hallucinations. Low inhibitions and crappy morals, maybe. Then again, the guy wasn’t human. Maybe his non-human DNA lent him more supernatural wiggle room. Life was so unfair.
At least I knew I could get a little sleep safely inside one, even if it wouldn’t be truly restful sleep. That just made the floor look even more inviting. A couple of blankets and pillows and I could curl up there a few hours. After all, I’d paid for the room.
I looked at the pale light of dawn pooling on the floor and sighed so hard it hurt. It wouldn’t be long now before the administration was in at the prison, and I’d need to talk to them. There was research to do, I needed to call Emma and make sure she made it home okay, and I needed to check on Remy. If Ikelos was after me, he might go after Remy too. He’d already attacked Emma’s brother. Crap, I needed to make sure he didn’t go to sleep either. So much to do, so little time.
I rubbed my head. “I need to stay awake. You got anything to help with that?”
“Espresso?” Samedi shrugged. “Otherwise, you’re on your own. I’d wish you luck, but you’ll need a lot more than luck. Do yourself a favor. Get your affairs in order. I don’t expect you to survive this one.”
The Baron disappeared in a puff of purple smoke that left me coughing. I waved it out of my face and wished he’d hung out a few more seconds so I could flip him the bird. I’d gotten out of tougher situations, right? All I had to do was figure out how the gods defeated the Titans the first time and replicate that. Of course, I wasn’t a god. Not even close. All I had was magic, and Samedi said that was useless against Ikelos. All I could do was hope that either Littlefox or the Sandman had some answers for me.
I sank to the floor in the center of the circle with a grunt and fished out my phone to dial Emma’s number.
It rang three times before she picked up. There was a lot of noise in the background, and not hospital chatter. Wherever she was, it was close to traffic. Maybe she was driving. “Detective Knight.”
Crap, that was her work voice, and she sounded irritated. She’d have seen it was me calling too. Answering like that meant she didn’t want someone nearby to know it was me on the other end. Probably Drake and Codey. Shit, she was at a crime scene.
“Please tell me there wasn’t another murder-suicide, Emma.”
There was a moment’s hesitation before she answered. “I t
hink so, but I can’t be sure. They’re still putting the fire out.”
Fire? My stomach sank into my toes. “Please tell me it wasn’t Tim Meeks.”
Emma was silent a beat while someone shouted in the background. “We still don’t know if they were inside the house when it went up.”
Goddammit! I fought the urge to throw the phone across the room. I told him not to fall asleep and to stay away from Abigail. Why don’t they ever listen? A long list of expletives marched through my head but never made it out of my mouth. Instead, all I said was, “I’m sorry.”
I hung up the phone feeling numb. Tim’s nerdy face flashed in front of my eyes, followed quickly by Abigail’s terror. Had he killed her before he set the fire or let her burn? The question made me queasy.
I stood on wobbly legs and wandered to the bathroom sink where I splashed some ice-cold water on my face. It didn’t wake me up so much as it shocked me out of trying to imagine Tim and Abigail’s deaths. The numbness in my chest quickly changed to boiling anger, and I jerked a towel down off the rack to dry off, scowling at my reflection.
Sending Ikelos back to Tartarus where he might escape from again sounded too nice. I would find him and kick his titanic ass.
“No, you won’t,” said my father from behind me. “You’ll screw this up just like you did everything else.”
I shifted my eyes to the left and saw him floating behind me. Impossible. I’d nuked his ass.
He shook his head, that pissed-off, disappointed look on his face. “I don’t know who you think you’re kidding with this good guy hero bullshit, son. Quit tryin’ to be something you’re not. Like it or not, we’re cut from the same cloth.”
“I’m nothing like you,” I ground out through clenched teeth. “I hate you.”
“You don’t hate me. You’re scared of being me. They ain’t the same thing.”
My fingers curled around the edges of the sink basin. “Shut up.”
He didn’t listen. Asshole never did. Always had to have the last word. “If you weren’t such a fuck up, you wouldn’t even be in this mess. This is all your fault, you know. Just had to go to Hell to save your sweet piece of ass. And how does she repay you? Keeps you at arm’s length, refuses to let you get close, makes you put up with her asshole family. Hell, she’s practically dumped you already. Some hero you are.”
“I said, shut the hell up!” I grabbed the ceramic soap pump on the corner of the sink, spun and flung it at where he’d been floating. The pump slammed against the wall, exploding into a thousand pieces. Yellow hand soap oozed down the wall.
There was no one there.
I gripped the sides of my face and tried to shake myself awake. My father wasn’t there. He couldn’t be there. Even if I hadn’t nuked him, he wouldn’t have been able to appear outside of the house without being summoned. His ghost had been too weak. Shit, I was losing it.
“Serves you right,” said another voice.
I turned to the doorway where Morningstar stood, back in his original body complete with the expensive suit and smug grin. “You’re not real either, asshole. I killed you.”
“Did you?” Morningstar wandered into the bathroom and bent to pick up a triangular piece of the broken soap pump. “How certain are you?”
“I watched you die, asshole. I know you’re just Ikelos messing with me.”
Morningstar lifted the sharp bit of ceramic to the light, examining it. “Reality is a curious thing, isn’t it? You’ve been to Hell. You know it’s real, yet you can’t walk down the street and find yourself standing in it. You have to travel elsewhere, to the After to really go there. The nice thing about being you is that you can do that at will. Your body stays here and your soul travels on. So, which one is the real you? The body or the soul? And what is life as a soul but another form of a dream?” He tossed the broken bit of ceramic at me.
On instinct, I reached out and caught it. The sharp edges bit into my palm as I closed my hand around it. When I opened my hand, I was bleeding, and the ceramic triangle was still there. How was that possible? Morningstar wasn’t real, couldn’t be real. It had to be a hallucination. Yet if he wasn’t there, who’d tossed the broken ceramic at me?
“Think you can take me, Horseman?” Morningstar asked. “I dare you to try.”
When I looked back up, Morningstar was gone. I was alone in the bathroom, bleeding from my hand.
Chapter Nineteen
I couldn’t stand another minute alone, so I got in my car and drove across town to get help. The Black Friday shoppers were out in force, but I avoided most of the road mess by taking side streets and avoiding anywhere near the national chain stores. The sun had just peeked above the horizon when I arrived in front of what was left of a familiar house in Lakeview.
Tim had done a good job setting the blaze this time. All that was left by dawn were charred timbers. The remains of a staircase stretched into nothingness, steam rising like fog. Anger sparked in my chest again, but I pushed it back down. There’d be plenty of time to be angry later.
Emma saw me coming on my way across the street. She handed a clipboard over to Moses and rushed to greet me. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was clipped, eyes wide. “This is an active crime scene.”
I stopped in the middle of the street and put my hands in my pockets. “So, there is a case, then?”
Before Emma could answer, a pair of detectives broke away from the crime scene and called after her. Remember that bully from the fifth grade who hit puberty two years before anyone else? That was the guy on the right. Thick-necked, wide shoulders, short, stocky build. The buzzcut and the walk said ex-military. On the left was the football captain turned prom king turned middle management at K-Mart. If I had to guess, his name was probably Brad, and he lived through the nineties with frosted tips and t-shirts with sports team logos on them.
“Detective Knight,” said the prettier of the two douchebags with a smug grin. “You going to introduce us to your boyfriend?”
Emma made a strange face. It took me a minute to realize she was caught halfway between panic and anger. She still somehow managed a strained smile. “Lazarus, these are Detectives Drake and Codey.”
Oh, no wonder she hated them. I’d only had to look at them so far, and I hated them. Apparently, the ex-military guy was Codey and pretty boy was Drake.
“Detectives,” I said with a nod. “Any chance your first name is Brad, Drake?”
His smug smile faded. “Have we met?”
Bingo. “Nope. Just had a feeling.”
Codey turned sharp blue eyes to Emma. “We just came over to ask if you were done processing your part of the scene, Detective Knight.”
“I’ll finish up in a minute.”
Drake tapped a pen against a handheld notebook. “Tell you what. Why don’t you let us finish up here? You catch up with your boyfriend while the rest of us do our jobs.”
She shot him a glare that would make most men cower. “I said I’ll finish in a minute.”
Drake held his hands up in the classic gesture for surrender and stepped back. “Easy, your majesty. Just trying to help. Come on, Codey. I’d like to hand this over to arson sometime before noon.”
I glued my eyes to the back of Drake’s head as the pair stalked off. “Want me to hex them?”
“What kind of hex?”
“I was thinking acne and sudden severe flatulence.”
Emma chuckled and shook her head. “Leave them be. Granddad always said assholes like them would get what was coming either way. I don’t want to give them any more time than I already have to. Why are you here?”
I studied Emma’s face. She looked exhausted. “Well, I have good news and bad news. But first, where’s Remy?”
“Mom has her. They’re probably both asleep. You didn’t think I’d bring her to a crime scene, did you?”
I grunted and shook my head. Even as tired as I was, I knew Emma better than that. Before she told me, I’d guessed my daughter was with Joyce. I
just didn’t want to open the conversation asking for a favor.
“What’s the good news?” Emma eyed the crime scene, eager to get back.
“I might’ve found a way we can get some sleep. It won’t be good sleep, and it might not protect us completely, but it’s better than nothing. My old apartment has a dream circle that can help.”
She eyed me with a frown. “Okay. Now, what’s the bad news?”
“I need to go up to Angola.”
“To make arrangements for your father?” She tipped her head to the side and looked at me with pity in her eyes.
“If I tell you I had a lead that could help you, but no way to connect it legally, would you be willing to lend me your badge to get in to talk to someone?”
“Lazarus…” Emma’s tone was serious.
I held up my hands. “No worries. I was actually going to ask Moses. He sort of owes me. Besides, he’s not being watched by Dumb and Dumber over there.” I gestured with my chin toward Drake and Codey, who’d ducked back under the crime scene tape to walk around. They didn’t look like they were doing much, but then I didn’t know the first thing about detective work.
She gave me a funny look as if she wasn’t sure I was serious. Then she shrugged, turned, and shouted for Moses. Detective Moses looked up from a piece of debris sealed in a plastic baggie that one of the firefighters was holding out to him. Emma waved him over with a big motion, and he excused himself to limp over the road toward us.
I frowned. Now that I knew it was all a lie, the endearing old man act left a sour taste in my mouth. I felt like he’d manipulated me into liking him. Wasn’t anything I could do about it even if it was true. I couldn’t not like Moses. It just wasn’t in me.
“You rang?” he drawled once he reached us. His eyes darted from Emma to me and back. Had I told her his secret?
Emma tilted her head toward me. “I need you to go with Laz.”
Moses’ eyes fixed on me. “Where we goin’?”