Death And Darkness

by E. A. Copen

  “He might die without one. There’s no telling what kind of damage there is on the inside, and I don’t have the equipment to assess him. Better an arrested Lazarus than a dead one.”

  No. No hospital. I tried to voice my objection, but my body wasn’t responding right. Something was wrong with my head. It was like there was a loose wire between my brain and body. I felt drunk, except not happy drunk. Just the lack of coordination and slushy thoughts.

  “What about the morgue?” Emma said.

  Nate paused and nodded. “Could work, but D.J. is there. He might call Drake and Codey.”

  “I’ll take care of D.J. You worry about fixing him.”

  There’s something more important than what I want. I have to tell Nate where the kids are. That way, if something happens to me, he can still get to them. I focused hard and managed to reach out and grab his arm, though my hand slid down to his wrist. It left a big rust-colored smear behind that I couldn’t stop staring at. What was that? Never mind. Have to tell him. “Faerie,” I managed. “Summer. Titania.”

  He was ripping up some duct tape. Why was he doing that? “Don’t talk, Laz. We’re going to get you fixed up. Don’t worry, okay?” His face said otherwise. Just what was he so worried about? He should’ve been happy. We finally had a lead.

  “I’ll get the Escalade unlocked.” Emma stood.

  Nate pulled her back down. “Stay with him.” There was something about his voice, something anxious and sad.

  Emma swallowed, nodded, and sank to her knees. Burning hot fingers wrapped around mine, and fiery lips pressed to my knuckle. She was crying. I tried to wipe away the tears with my other hand but couldn’t lift it. “I’m sorry,” she was saying. “I’m so sorry.”

  I wanted to tell her not to apologize. Whatever she was upset over, it was my fault, and I’d fix it. Just as soon as I finished my nap. I was suddenly unbearably tired. Something in the back of my head screamed that I needed to stay awake, but I couldn’t remember why. My eyes closed on their own and I fell into the deepest, darkest sleep of my life.

  Chapter Nine

  I had died more times than I could count. If I’d been a cat, I’d have used up my nine lives and then some. It kind of came with the territory of being the Pale Horseman who knew how to manipulate his Reapers into helping him out. Once, I’d even killed my Reaper to keep myself alive. But all good things must come to an end, my life apparently among them.

  I don’t know how I knew I was dying. No Reaper came to greet me, and I wasn’t conscious or aware of anything but a stuttering sort of pounding in my chest that I realized too late was an irregular heartbeat. I’d lost too much blood. That Bizarro version of me, he’d gotten me good.

  My consciousness floated in a black nothingness with no end, aware of the sounds and sensations going on around me. Somewhere in the distance, a pinprick of a bright white light waited. It was like floating on Lake Pontchartrain at night and seeing a lighthouse from far off. Instinct told me to go to it, but fear held me back.

  I wasn’t ready to go. There was still so much unfinished business, things I had to take care of. Loki was still out there, prepping for his apocalypse. I’d only just discovered angels and demons were a thing, and there were Titans to put away too. I had to find Remy, apologize to Emma, make sure Leah was okay. No, I couldn’t go yet.

  I also didn’t have a choice. The more I fought the urge to move toward the light, the harder some unseen force pushed me toward it.

  Funny thing about death; not even the Pale Horseman gets to choose his time.

  “Please,” I said to the endless expanse of nothing, “I don’t want to die.”

  Of course, there was no answer. In the end, death is a lonely business.

  So, I called to the void with all my reasons for staying. I argued with my echo and raged against the silence when the echo died, all the while floating closer to my own demise.

  No, not my demise. I wasn’t dead yet or I’d be in the After already. The After was where all souls went. I’d been there enough times to know exactly how that worked. I’d have to stand in that awful line to be judged by Osiris before I was sent to the appropriate place, up or down. I didn’t think I’d be headed to Heaven, so chances were good I’d be looking at a rather warm eternity.

  Since I wasn’t in line yet, that meant I was still transitioning from life to death, and that meant I could turn that trip around. Maybe. I just had to figure out how. There was no one to bargain with, no one to con or trick, no spell I could use to change direction. But there had to be something. I couldn’t just give up, not with people counting on me.

  “Now, isn’t this amusing.” Loki. Why was it that bastard had to be part of everything, even my death? His disembodied voice floated around me, slithering like a living thing.

  “Why are you here?” I tried to sound angry, or at least irritated, but my voice was so small. The darkness seemed to eat it.

  “Your prayer,” Loki’s voice mused. “The sad thing is, there must’ve been half a dozen gods who heard your plea for help, yet none answer you. Why is that?”

  I focused on the bright light. It still seemed to be miles away, a tiny speck against an endless sky of black. The prayer I’d uttered hadn’t been directed at anyone. I hadn’t realized that meant it was up for grabs. “Probably because most gods hate me. The rest of them wouldn’t lift a finger to help me. The few that actually like me are probably busy dealing with whatever mess you’ve made.”

  “True, Horseman. I wish I could say I had foreseen this moment, but you’ve caught me by surprise. It’s a little upsetting how easy this is going to be. Here I’d imagined launching some grand campaign of trickery and mischief to get you on my side.” He chuckled. “I’m disappointed.”

  I gritted my teeth. Of all the gods that could answer me, why him? I’d have to be more careful about choosing my words next time. If there was a next time.

  “Well?” Loki said. “Don’t you want to hear my offer, Horseman?”

  “Why make an offer at all? If I die, another Pale Horseman gets named, one you might be able to influence easier to get to do what you want. Not to look a gift horse in the mouth or anything.”

  “Was that an attempt at being smart?”

  It wasn’t. I’d forgotten Loki had been a horse once in mythology. Damn shapeshifting ability. Wait a minute… “What do you know about this wannabe version of me running around New Orleans?”

  Loki laughed. “Oh, the things I could tell you that you don’t know are nearly endless, Lazarus. That information doesn’t come cheap. But I’ll tell you what. For the low, low price of two names crossed off my list, I’ll tell you who has your daughter and where. For a third, I’ll throw in the means to rescue her before time runs out.”

  If I’d had any blood in that state, it would’ve chilled at his last statement. I knew I had to find Remy and fast, but I hadn’t been sure there was any time limit. It was possible Loki was lying to me. What reason did he have to tell the truth? Then again, what reason did he have to lie?

  Loki was offering me a deal, but it wasn’t a good one. The three names, they’d be gods he’d want me to kill as part of his revenge plot. I knew there were twenty-one names on that list and that he couldn’t kill them himself. He’d enlisted the help of Famine and probably Pestilence. If he had me, he could wipe out those names in no time, even if I only helped a little. It would be murder, killing those gods, and I wasn’t a murderer. But what choice did I have?

  I could die. That’d be the honorable thing to do. Die and leave my friends behind to clean up after evil me. Okay, so maybe not that honorable, but my life was fucked anyway. I’d live the rest of my days on the run from the law even if I did get my daughter back. To save face for Emma, I’d have to break things off. Just thinking about that hurt more than dying ever did.

  But if I didn’t go back, they had almost no chance of taking out an evil version of me, or whatever that guy was. They were Normals with no magic. Even if they appeale
d to the witches of the city, they’d be no match for someone with my powers. I kept my abilities under wraps, preferring to use them to help people rather than hurt mostly because I knew what I was capable of. There was a reason most necromancers turned to the dark side of the art. That kind of power was seductive.

  Die alone and let my friends suffer or become a murderer myself. Wasn’t much of a choice.

  But those weren’t my only two options, and Loki wasn’t the only god I could call on. I had a direct line to someone else, someone who liked me a lot more than Loki.

  I’d never been much for prayer, God, or traditional worship. Sure, Pony dragged me to church and made sure I was brought up a proper Southern Baptist kid, but once I understood the magic behind it, I placed little stock in God or church. He—or maybe She—was a deity for the desperate, someone only the lost and helpless called on. Me, I had magic. I’d never been helpless, or so I thought.

  After I killed the Devil, I met God briefly, or some version of Her (though She had many forms, I got the distinct impression She was female). She’d sent me back once before. Maybe She could do it again.

  I closed my eyes and tried to focus my will into my words, sending the prayer out in all directions. “Please, God. A little help would be nice.”

  “Go ahead,” Loki’s voice echoed. “Make your call. I’ll be here when you’re done. I’m a patient god.”

  The bright light in the distance flashed brighter, pushing away the darkness. I wasn’t in my body anymore, but I got the distinct feeling that wherever my body was, fire ants had crawled under my skin. Light surrounded me, burned me to nothing, and then rebuilt me to stand in a garden. Colorful flowers leaned into me from all directions, red roses and purple foxgloves, yellow daffodils, and orange lilies. There were ferns and flowering cacti, all the most beautiful, perfect examples of their species. Emma would melt with envy if she saw the place.

  I pushed aside a sunflower and stepped into a small clearing. A man sat at a table under an umbrella designed to look like a watermelon. A newspaper hid his face from view, meaning all I could see of him was the dark, wrinkled skin on his knuckles and the pure white suit he wore. Didn’t matter. I knew Detective Moses Moses well enough that I could recognize him by his hands.

  “Zuriel owes me dinner,” said Moses. He lowered the newspaper, revealing the familiar, weary face. “I told him you were a prayin’ man. Guess he didn’t see it in you.”

  I glanced around the garden clearing. “Your boss isn’t here?”

  “And which boss would that be?”

  “God?” As far as I was aware, angels only had one boss. His response struck me as unusual.

  Moses sat forward and sighed. “No one’s seen God since the Devil mantle went up for grabs.”

  I blinked. “Wait. That would mean…”

  “Sit down, son.”

  My legs moved on their own, carrying me to the table. On automatic, I pulled out the chair and sat stiffly. God was gone. How was that possible? “If She’s gone, who’s running Heaven? And why is She gone?”

  Moses shook his head and folded the paper further before setting it aside. “Nobody knows. Some think it’s because the Devil’s gone, that the two mantles are linked. Destroy one, the other goes too.”

  “But I didn’t destroy the Devil mantle. Just the guy wearing it.”

  He shrugged. “It’s been so long since that’s happened, nobody rightly knows what’s goin’ on. All we know is the Almighty vanished about the same time. Michael is running things for now, and that doesn’t bode well for you.”

  I sighed and lowered my head. “He doesn’t want to send me back.”

  “Sorry, Laz. He ain’t sendin’ nobody back these days. Things up here are a little different.”

  I made a fist and struck the surface of the table. “After everything I’ve done for your side, all the monsters I’ve killed, the apocalyptic situations I’ve defused, all I want is enough time to save my little girl, and you can’t give me that? What the hell is the point in helping the good guys if they’re just going to screw you in the end?”

  Moses sighed and stared at the tabletop. “Ain’t my choice, Laz. I’d help if I were allowed, but this is bigger than you and me.”

  “What about Loki?” I pushed myself up, resting my hands on the table. “Who’s going to stop him if I’m gone, huh?”

  Moses didn’t answer.

  Then it hit me. “Christ, you don’t want the bastard stopped.”

  “Language!” His shoulders slumped, and his face relaxed. “And like I said, it ain’t up to me. I warned you before there’d be consequences for what you did for Emma. Directive Seventy-Seven is martial law here. Were I to violate Michael’s law, I’d be terminated.”

  “He’d make you mortal?”

  Moses met my eyes. “Worse. He’d cast me out. Make me one of the Fallen. I’m sorry, Lazarus. I disagree with the directive, but I cannot disobey a direct order. No matter how much I wish I could.”

  I sighed, suddenly exhausted on a level I’d never known was possible. There came a time for every man when he had to choose whether to keep fighting a losing battle or just let go and slip into eternity. Maybe this was my time. People died at inconvenient times. Why should I be any different?

  Because I have a choice. I have magic. I’m the fucking Pale Horseman for Christ’s sake. Death is my name, and I won’t go quietly into it. If the After wants me, they can drag me kicking and screaming into eternity.

  I swallowed and avoided looking at Moses. “I have other options, but I don’t know if I can…”

  Moses leaned forward to pat my hand. “There’s forgiveness for everyone, Laz. No matter what you have to do.”

  “No, it’s not that. I just don’t know how I’ll forgive myself, Moses. I have to become a monster. A killer.”

  “You’ve killed before.”

  I shook my head. “Not like this. Not in cold blood. Not… murder.”

  Moses was silent for a long beat. “I can’t tell you what to do. I’ve helped far more than I should’ve. You are a good man, Lazarus. That’s the trouble with good men in evil times. Sometimes, you just gotta get your hands dirty, lifting others up. Ain’t nobody up here wants to admit that, but there you are.” He stood, placing a white hat on his head. “I’m real sorry, Laz. Wish there was more I could do.”

  I closed my eyes and nodded. “You’ve done plenty.”

  He nodded and was gone. The garden disappeared with him, and I was thrust back into blackness with Loki’s voice echoing in my ears.

  “Tick-tock, Lazarus,” Loki said. “This is a limited time offer that I’m not obligated to renew. As you so helpfully pointed out, you’re a replaceable part of my agenda.”

  I closed my eyes against the light floating closer. There was no way out. Either way, someone innocent would get hurt. At least I could ensure it was someone who deserved it. “I’ll do it.”

  “Excuse me? I didn’t quite catch that.”

  “I’ll do it,” I shouted into the void. “Give me your three names.”

  Chapter Ten

  I cracked open my eyes. Everything was blurry, but I thought I could make out a bright light hanging over my head. Not one of those buzzing hospital lights, but the decorative globe type you’d find in a bedroom. My whole body ached, but I was acutely aware of a burning heaviness in my stomach, moving diagonally from just under my chest to my hip. The slightest movement made stitches pinch.

  My throat was sore and dry as Arizona in the summer. I tried to draw a tongue over my lips, but it was like sandpaper. “Water.”

  Emma appeared, eyes wide. She’d put on some clothes. That was good, considering I didn’t think I recognized that light from her house. They’d taken me somewhere else. Question was, where? Icy hands touched my face. “Lazarus?”

  “As far as I know. You were expecting someone else?”

  She hugged me to her, sniffling into my shoulder. “Dammit, don’t you ever do that again! Don’t you die on me
! Nate! Nate, he’s up!”

  A door somewhere toward my feet crashed open and Nate rushed in, fitting a stethoscope to his ears. “How do you feel? Does it hurt?” He jerked my shirt up, and something tugged at my skin like tape being peeled away. “Holy moly. It’s gone.”

  I lifted my head for a look, expecting to find a big, jagged cut crossing my body. Instead, all that remained of whatever Bizarro Me had done were the stitches someone had put in. “To answer your question, I feel sore as hell but damn, is it good to be alive.”

  “I imagine.” He pressed the ice-cold stethoscope against my chest. “You had to be resuscitated three times during surgery.”

  “Surgery?” I winced. Did that mean they’d taken me to a hospital after all?

  “Laz, that other you ripped you open.” Emma crossed her arms. “And he hasn’t let up causing trouble ever since. Nine more people have gone missing.”

  “Nine?” I tried to sit up, but Nate pushed me back down. “Just how long did that surgery take?”

  Nate removed the stethoscope from his ears. “Nine hours, but you’ve been mostly comatose for almost a week.”

  A week. The news hit me like a cold slap. That meant Remy and Jessica had been gone eight days. My hand closed around Nate’s wrist. “Leah? Jess?”

  He pressed his lips into a thin line and avoided my eyes. “Jessica is still missing. Leah made it through. She’s getting stronger every day. I tried to explain the situation to her, but…” He shook his head. “I need to get our daughter back. Alive. I don’t have anything else to hold onto now.”

  “I’m really sorry, man.”

  “Don’t be sorry. You made it. That’s more than I hoped for. Now I just need you to explain the miraculous healing to me.” He gestured to the wound. “Emma, hand me those surgical scissors, and we’ll get these stitches out.”

  I winced, and not at the thought of Nate pulling the stitches out of me. How was I going to explain to him and Emma that I had cut a deal with Loki to come back? He hadn’t given me any names yet, but it was just a matter of time before the first one landed in my lap. I couldn’t lie to Emma because of the magic bond we shared, but maybe I could skirt the truth if they didn’t ask too many questions.