Chapter 27

T he jump down wasn't too bad, and the ensuing climb wasn't either. Probably because Harrow caught me on the first and boosted me on the second. He remained in the pit to warp the glamour enough to reveal the ladder and the tunnel at the end of it.

Carter took point. Kierce gave her a whole minute before going in after her. Then it was my turn.

Only once I was crawling through the downward tilting tunnel did I sense Harrow behind me.

Our breaths filled the tight space, both comforting and claustrophobic. I might have panicked if not for a slight breeze suctioning in over our backs, racing ahead toward whatever awaited us. As it was, I still got twitchy after the five-minute mark. The idea of getting trapped down here did not appeal. Especially not if Little doubled back. I don't know how dangerous she was to us, but she gave me the willies.

"There's a round room ahead." Carter's voice carried. "It's the width of the smokestack."

Because of course there would be a secret room beneath the privies. Savannah never disappointed.

An oof told me Carter had tumbled into the chamber. Kierce made his exit with more grace then turned back to help me avoid taking a headfirst dive onto the curved stone table like Carter. As soon as I got to my feet, I leapt down to make room for Harrow. And because touching the table, even through the thick soles of my shoes, felt how vomit tasted to my necromancer senses.

The grooves carved in its edges, sloping toward the floor, stretched my stomach like a taffy pulling machine.

"Bijou, Bijou, Bijou," Little purred from the ceiling, a good twenty feet above our heads. "I was beginning to wonder if you required a handwritten invitation to join me."

"Ankou?"

Thuds rang out behind me, and I pivoted to find the others had collapsed onto the dirt floor.

"I would say in the flesh, but this is an avatar. Not even a good one. Rather puny for my tastes."

"You actually did it." I backed toward Kierce's still form. "You bargained with a child ."

"Kids like her don't get to be children. They're a whole other breed. You know that."

"That doesn't make it right." I knelt to check his pulse. "What did you do to them?"

"Them?" He chuckled through her little-girl throat. "I wouldn't worry about them."

The skin beneath my fingers felt cold, hard, when Kierce had always been warm. The more I focused, the more sensations grated against me, opposite what they should be, twisting my perceptions. I felt it then. Rough beneath my fingers. Firm beneath my back. Frigid to the point of burning. I was…horizontal.

No. I was standing. Or was I?

"What's happening?" I jerked my hand back and rose, vertigo swamping my senses. "Where am I?"

"It feels like I haven't seen you in forever." He flipped into a landing in front of me. "Let's catch up."

Ankou was stuck in Abaddon. Kierce told me that. He could only reach me through dreams.

That meant…somehow…this was happening in my head and not in reality.

"Don't overthink it." He patted the stone table. "You'll give yourself a headache."

"You killed those girls." With or without their blood on his hands, I had no doubt whatsoever he was the driving force behind their deaths. "What was in it for you?"

"You." He made it sound obvious. "I couldn't risk Audrey outing me."

The weight of those deaths piled on me until my chest threatened to collapse.

"You intercepted Little's prayers."

"That is kind of my job." He spread his hands. "Little was jealous of Audrey for stealing Farah's attention and afraid that after Audrey claimed Farah's former position with Ian that Farah could no longer protect her." He shrugged. "She wanted Audrey dead, and so did I." He dusted his palms. "It was a win/win."

Except Lyle, who was supposed to kill me, was the one who ended up dead.

"That's why Lyle kidnapped Audrey and stuffed her in his safe room instead of outright killing her." I had a hard time making Armie's familiar words fit the voice coming out of her mouth, but I was too nervous to glance away. "You had already struck your bargain." I braced my shoulders against the wall. "Did Little know that you would force her to kill Farah?"

"There's always a cost." He kicked her stubby legs. "That was mine."

Her agony over that hidden price would have fed him well and snuffed any spark of humanity left in her.

Which, now that I thought about it, might explain why he had instructed Little to drown her victims.

The final betrayal of an element that should have embraced them but instead smothered them to death.

Ankou could have feasted on each kill for days.

"I thought she was human." I tried to see past the baby fat to the monster within. "Everyone did."

"She always wanted to be more." He bent his fingers, which twisted at odd angles. "Now she is."

Ankou had heard her prayers and answered them in the worst way possible. I reminded myself Little had accepted his terms, but it didn't help. She was clever. She might have street smarts, but she was still just a kid. Pair that lack of impulse control with a hard-won survival instinct and you got a recipe for disaster.

The pact that should have saved her had damned her when Ankou turned her on the person she loved most.

"Human bodies don't bend like that." I pinned down my sense of unease. "Is she dead?"

Unless he healed the damage he had inflicted on her body, bending and twisting her bones and sinew in ways it was never meant for, she would be nothing more than a broken toy he would toss aside when he was done.

"Not yet." He gestured toward the ceiling to where an unconscious Audrey hung suspended by rusting chains. A facsimile of her anyway. "She'll get her wish granted first. There are rules. I can't break those or else." He dragged a thumb across his throat then laughed. "I'm already in deep shit with Him, which isn't your fault, by the way. I know how you love to hoard guilt like a dragon hoards gold, but this was on me."

No matter how much trouble he was in, it wasn't enough for me. He could be dead—truly dead—and I would still crave more. Which reminded me. "You hurt Badb."

Him. Little. I wasn't sure you could draw a dividing line between the two anymore.

"I did not expect Harrow kidnapping your brother on my bingo card." He mimed an explosion beside his head. "It blew my mind how someone can know you so well and yet not at all. He's never getting back in your pants now."

"The crow," I prompted, guiding the conversation away from a topic that made me want to smash skulls.

"I went to investigate after I saw Harrow carry Matty to his car. The crow was there, making my life difficult as usual, and she started attacking me. Also as usual. She's not a big fan of mine. Hates me, really. Probably dreams about pecking out my eyeballs."

"You almost killed her."

"Turns out Little is ornithophobic. Fucking terrified of birds. Who knew? She went apeshit on Badb."

"You let Harrow take the fall."

"Let me tell you, Bijou. I could feast off your fury for years. You're gorgeous when you're incendiary."

There was no point in asking if Badb had crawled under the bed to safety or if Little had shoved her there to buy herself more time to escape. He wouldn't tell me the truth. I already had what I needed.

Vindication for Harrow.

On that front, anyway.

"I know about the cameras." I stoked that anger to fray the edges of his illusion. "I'm glad you're dead."

"See?" He stuck out his plump bottom lip. "That hurts my feelings."

"You have what you need to wrap up your bargain." I examined the room for clues in short bursts, trying to figure out how to escape. "Why not let them get on with it? Then you can go back to Abaddon where you belong to rot, and we'll never have to see or hear from you again."

"Okay, in the interest of preserving our friendship, I'll admit the cameras were a bad idea." He circled his wrist. "The getting-caught part anyway. That I hadn't counted on. I underestimated you, Bijou, and that's on me." He drew his legs up to his chest. "Kierce is the problem, really. He sucks the fun out of any room he's in. Seriously. How can you prefer him to me? I put a lot of work into making Armie handsome, loyal, mysterious. All the big-ticket items. But you turned your nose up at me—him. Should I have chosen pale, dull, and awkward? Kierce is a bumbling idiot, and you lap it up because he's pretty and fits your spooky aesthetic." He snorted. "Has no one ever told you that you can't let your job define your life?"

Only every five minutes.

"Why does it matter who or what I find attractive?" I pushed off the wall. "Why me?"

"Lyle was the one?—"

"—who fell for your lies." I couldn't shake my disorientation. "Why are you here? What do you want?"

"For you to die." He cocked his head to one side. "That's it. That's all. Easy-peasy."

"Are you crazy?" I barked out a laugh. "Scratch that." I gestured to our surroundings. "I know you're nuts."

"Offering to scratch my nuts?" He whistled. "Guess our friendship really is back on."

"Armie could have pulled that off, but not you." I stepped closer. "Why do you want me dead?"

"Death isn't as bad as everyone makes it out to be."

"That's not a reason."

"Kierce tattled about the fruit. I overheard him. Aren't you curious what would happen if?—"

"No." A warm pressure encircled my wrist. I glanced down, but nothing was there. "I'm not."

"What if I make you a deal?" He stared at me as if he could read the words carved on my soul. "What do you desire?"

Unable to help myself, I slid my gaze to where Kierce and the others had been, their illusions anyway, but they were gone.

"Frankie."

The punch of my name hit me hard, and I sucked in a gasp. "Did you hear that?"

"I don't hear a thing." Ankou hopped off the table. "Now, where were we? Oh. I know. Your desires."

"Open your eyes."

"Frankie."

"What do you crave above all things?" He prowled closer. "Your family safe? Done. You want Harrow for your very own? Done. Kierce? Well, I can't hand him over. His god is possessive. But money? Power? The answer to who birthed you? Where you came from? Who your people are? Those can be yours."

"Please, Frankie, don't go."

"I'll tell Josie you didn't fight for her, and she will kick your ass."

"Does your god need another minion? Is that it? Or do you suck so hard at your job he's replacing you?"

Ankou laughed until tears cut through the dirt on his cheeks. "You think He wants to recruit you?"

The pressure on my wrist increased until the fragile bones scraped together.

Harrow was holding on to me. I don't know how I knew it, but I did. With absolute certainty.

Just like I knew Kierce was murmuring prayers over me while the mirror of his eyes reflected forever.

"Back away from my sister."

"Matty?" I pivoted toward the sound, my heart in my throat. "Is that really you?"

"Real is complicated right now." Matty gripped my hand, his touch solid. "Hold your breath, Mary."

Vials of dream sweet appeared between his fingers, and he threw them at Ankou.

The corked globes smashed on impact, exploding in clouds of soft pink and pastel blues that Matty had warned me once smelled how cotton candy tasted. He told me if I ever caught a whiff of it in a dream I…

Musty air rushed into my lungs as I gulped oxygen rich with the tang of iron.

The back of my skull throbbed with its own heartbeat, and I knew without touching it I had a goose egg.

"Thank God." Harrow dropped his head to my shoulder. "I thought I— we —lost you."

"Matty," I rasped, my throat dry and sore, and Harrow shifted away from me.

"He's not here." Carter's voice appeared from the darkness. "He met you on the dream plane."

I pushed myself upright, striking my head against metal above me.

For a second, I was in so much pain, I couldn't tell up from down or left from right.

When I was certain I wouldn't throw up, or pass out, I tried speaking. "Where are we?"

"Under a passenger car in the train shed," Harrow murmured from nearby, his knee brushing my elbow.

"I've got it under control," Carter snarled through a mouthful of cheddar puffs. "Just stop her bleeding."

Biting the end of his tee, Harrow ripped off a two-inch strip of fabric he used to bind the gash I had sliced open on my forehead before the redcap caved to licking the wound like a lollipop. Stupid mistake on my part in present company, but I was still sifting reality from dream.

And my head—front to back—fucking hurt.

"What happened?" I winced as he cinched the fabric tight. "How did I end up unconscious?"

"Little threw a sleep spell at you when you crossed the road to the train shed." Carter hunched at the far end of the car, her back to us. "You dropped where you stood." That explained why my skull was ringing. "Kierce carried you to cover then he went after her. We couldn't wake you, so I texted Josie, who sent Matty into your dreams. Now that you're alert, we need to find Audrey while Kierce keeps Little busy."

Hard to believe I had never gone into the privy or under the smokestack to the hidden room below.

"Okay." I swallowed. "I'm good." I rolled onto my side. "Let's go."

"When I said we , I meant Harrow and me." Carter peered around the wheel she hid behind. "Stay here." She made it an order. "I need to get away from you, and you need to hide where Little can't find you."

As much as I wanted to protest, I could barely keep my left eye open thanks to the sharp throbs above it.

"Fine." I didn't have to sound happy about it. "I'll wait here."

Harrow hesitated for the briefest second before bellycrawling to join Carter. They scooted out, got to their feet, and fanned out to begin their search. They must have seen or heard something to make them think Audrey was being held in one of the other train cars on display.

No sooner had my temples quit throbbing than pebbles scattered behind my head. I flipped over toward the motion and bitterly regretted my life choices as my brain sloshed from the motion. The sleep spell, a favorite of Ankou's, packed a whammy. No wonder it had taken Matty hours to shake off its effects.

"Badb?" I exhaled with relief. "You are real, aren't you?"

"As real as I've ever been, me duck."

The Yorkshire accent made zero sense for a crow living in Georgia, though I suppose Kierce could have met her anywhere. And duck? She pronounced it to rhyme with book. Almost like duke but not quite.

Not that pinning down her nationality was important.

That was definitely the head injuries talking.

"You're a figment of my imagination, but that's okay. I don't mind the company."

Unable to tell if I was truly awake, and with no clue where reality began, I could only go with the flow.

"You must have hit your head harder than I thought."

"Which time?" I resisted the urge to touch the sticky headband fabric. "Concussion maybe?"

It's time to play dream or concussion. I'm your host, Frankie Talbot.

"Oh, dear." She hopped closer. "Himself won't be pleased about this."

"Kierce?" I scratched her head. "Where is he, anyway?"

Questioning a figment of my imagination couldn't be healthy.

"Don't worry about him." She nipped my finger gently. "The only way to save Audrey is to mark Little for Dis Pater and summon him to collect."

That was oddly specific information if I was still dreaming. Had I overheard Kierce mention Dis Pater by name but was only remembering it now? Or had I made a guess based on things I had read? Either way…

Gulp.

"Dis Pater," I squeaked out. "The Roman god of the underworld?"

That was who Kierce worked for? That was his boss? I… I hadn't been thinking big enough.

Vi would have a heart attack when I told her if I didn't have one before I got the chance.

"Well, yes, but he mostly writes cozy mysteries from his cottage in Manchester-by-the-Sea."

Massachusetts. Kierce had told me his god was fond of it. But the god of death wrote cozies?

"You are a very convincing hallucination."

"Hmm." She swiveled her head the way birds do. "Then why don't you humor me?"

"You want me to mark Little for death." I followed her out from under the train car. "That's…harsh."

"Her failure to set boundaries for Ankou meant the first person she killed was the one she loved most."

"Farah," I agreed, figuring my subconscious was combing over facts I already knew for clarity.

"Ankou killed the others. He expected Harrow would use their deaths as leverage to keep Audrey cooperative while she was under house arrest. Ankou counted on Harrow's warnings to backfire. He expected Audrey to panic. To think Farah might be next and rush back to save her."

"And Little would have been waiting there to pick off Audrey and close the deal."

"Except Harrow didn't tell Audrey about Farah or the others until he had no choice."

"But I talked out Audrey's suspicions about Little." I groaned. "Audrey did just as Ankou predicted. Just not for the reasons he banked on."

"Audrey has one of Harrow's service weapons."

How did I know that for my hallucination to tell me? Had Carter or Harrow mentioned it while I was out?

"We need to find Little before Audrey puts Little's death on her conscience."

The grit on my palms as I shoved onto my feet felt real, but I didn't wholly trust my senses.

"I'll take you to her." Badb launched into the air. "She was hiding in the smokestack last I saw."

"What?" A wobble in my step sent me stumbling, but I caught my balance. "I was there in my dream."

"Ankou must have fed you sensory information about his surroundings to fool you into believing him."

"I'm not convinced I believe in you either." The world tipped and spun as I stood. "I'm probably in bed at the hotel with food poisoning, or maybe I slipped getting out of the shower and ended up in a coma." I took long, slow breaths to calm my racing heart. "What's your vote?"

"I feel rather myself, but what do I know? I'm just a crow."

The mad dash to reach Little brought us not to the smokestack but to the main shop. With calculated lightning strikes, Kierce kept her pinned in a bricked corner. He must have herded her there while Badb went to get me. Little skittered up the wall only to be forced lower as he corralled her each time she almost broke free.

"I was going to ask why he couldn't do it himself." I squinted at the light show. "Now I see the problem."

Unless he got his hands on her, he couldn't mark her. As fast as she moved, he might not be missing her on purpose so much as she was outrunning his hits. The faint delay from when he summoned his powers to impact was seconds, but she was faster.

"Draw this sigil on her forehead in your blood." Badb, who had been drawing in the loose dirt with a foot while I watched Kierce, pointed with her claw. "Do that, and Kierce can lead you through the chant to summon his master."

As I pressed my left palm onto a piece of sharp metal, I began to think this was real. Like really real.

If that was true, this next part was going to suck. I jogged up to Kierce, tapped him on the shoulder to let him know I was there, then ran forward with the goal of catching Little and marking her. Standing in Kierce's path, I felt the hairs on my body rising in a static warning of the danger at my back. All I could do was trust I was safe from him and do my best to get my hands on the creepy-crawly that had once been a desperate human girl.

I darted left, she dodged right. I leapt for her, she ducked into the corner. She slithered above me, I crouched to evade her.

All the while, lightning rained down around us.

A few minutes in, we were at a stalemate. I couldn't get closer to her without him striking me, but if I told him to lay off the juice, she would escape up to the ceiling beyond my reach then slip out and be gone. It was now or never. I would have to rush her and hope I didn't end up chargrilled in the process.

White-hot currents of power blasted to the right and left of me, driving Little down to the floor.

A tiny break in Kierce's flow gave me my opening to lunge at her.

I hit her hard, smashing us against the brick, and I peeled her off in a dazed bundle of limbs. I shoved her to the floor and sat on her back, limiting her reach. The takedown wasn't graceful or pretty. But, as I scratched the scab on my palm, I called it a win.

Hoping I didn't screw up the sigil, I dipped a finger into the glittery crimson ink in my palm to draw on her forehead. Energy stung my fingertip as I closed the design, and I slung my hand to ease the hurt.

The low chant Kierce began caused Little to thrash and scream, nearly bucking me off her.

Bit by bit, I picked up the words and cadence, and then I lent my voice to his magic.

Our harmonization struck me as more potent than anything Vi and I had ever accomplished together. He kept guiding me, leading me, and a sense of pressure releasing—that of a key turning in a lock—vibrated in my bones until I became a tuning fork for a power so vast and reaching that words failed to describe it as it pulsed in the air in time with the frantic heartbeat I felt through Little's back.

A caw rang out, jerking my head toward Badb, who flapped her wings at me.

"Get back." Kierce strode toward me. "You must not be touching the damned when He comes."

Happy to do as he asked, I unclenched my thighs and began scooting back on my butt.

Rock skittering drew my attention in the opposite direction as Audrey slid to a halt in front of us.

With the gun in her hand.

Aimed right at Little.

"Keep going, Frankie." Her arms wobbled with nerves. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Audrey." I lunged for Little, who scrabbled to escape. "This isn't how you avenge Farah."

"She was all I had." She swung her aim from Little to me to Kierce. "She was my best friend."

"Frankie." Kierce kept coming. "Let go." His god aspect rippled across his features. "Let go."

An explosion of white light bathed the train shed, blinding me. I lifted a hand to shield my face, and Little bolted for safety. The moisture in my eyes sizzled like water on a hot griddle, and I fell forward until I hit my elbows then tucked my head into my body to do a turtle proud. It didn't help. The brightness burned through skin and bone. No matter how dark it should have been, searing agony enveloped me.

A gun barked through the void. Once. Twice. Three times. Metal clanged against cement.

All went quiet and still, and it was as if I were the only person alive on the entire planet.

The luminous presence in our midst gusted a sigh hurricanes would envy.

"I'm on a deadline," a multilayered voice thundered above us. "This book is due to my editor next week."

"Forgive me, Master."

Kierce's voice cut through the thick atmosphere, assuring me I wasn't alone, allowing me to breathe.

"I should give my readers your home address so when my publisher has to push out the release date, they can march on you with torches and pitchforks. They can burn you at the stake while I relax in my office with a glass or five of bourbon and figure out how Kitt Gato gets Blythe Montfort off the hook this time for her mailman's brutal murder after his body is discovered on her doorstep with a message written on a letter addressed to her in his own blood. Do you know how hard it is for a cat, who can only question other animals, to solve a human-on-human crime?"

"Apologies for disturbing you, Master."

"He doesn't have a home address." I hadn't meant to address the god. "He's got a cage."

"That's more than I had at his age, missy." Dis Pater scoffed as the laser of his attention cut through me. "Wait a minute." His focus intensified on me. I couldn't see it, but I felt it. "You're an initiate? With that mouth? My, how standards have slipped in these modern times."

"Master, please."

"Kids these days." His focus tugged on the marrow in my bones. "I bet you hand over your email address on shopping sites to get coupons too. You realize companies resell their client lists to spammers, right?"

"Can you dial down the shine—" I couldn't see a damn thing, "—so I can see who's lecturing me?"

"Light travels faster than, well, anything. This form helps with the whole deadline thing. The thing Kierce ruined by marking a soul for collection, which is, at best, a side hustle for me these days." His ire shifted to Kierce, allowing me to breathe easier. "Hmm. Is that your brand I see, Kierce? You marked this girl?"

"Ankou—"

"That turd is responsible for this?" Dis Pater sighed. "Now I'll have to check my shoes when I get home."

The oddest sensation spread through me, a tickling sting. Had I been a plush toy, I would have said I was coming unstitched, that my stuffing was at risk of falling out. But I wasn't a toy. Whatever he was doing, it was unraveling the fabric of my being.

"I think I'm dying," I announced to the room.

"Duh." Dis Pater returned his crushing interest to me. "How do you think initiation works?"

"She's not an initiate," Kierce rumbled, the ground shaking. "I branded her for myself."

"You've taken an acolyte?" Doubt swam heavy through the god's voice. "For the first time in millennia?"

"I'm dying?" I lifted my head through Herculean effort. "And you're just standing there?"

"No legs, but yeah." I sensed Dis Pater shrug. "Hey, look at you. You're already halfway there."

The liquid boiled in my eyes as I forced them open to glare down the god who was killing me without the grace to even award me his full attention. Aside from a brighter glob in the center of the blinding light, it was impossible to tell where he stood. Floated. Illuminated. Whatever.

"I have never asked you for anything," Kierce's voice rolled like thunder, "but I beg you to spare her."

"Huh. I didn't see that coming." He ignored Kierce and his plea in favor of me. "Hey, mouthy girl, can you see me?"

"Do you feel my hands around your throat, squeezing the life out of you?"

"Ha!" He sounded delighted. "She's not an initiate or an acolyte, you boob."

Somewhere wood splintered with crackling intensity. Shit . Not wood. Bone. My bones.

For the span of one heartbeat, I imagined a face materialized, but it swirled away into the glare.

Had I been able to speak, I would have demanded he show himself, but I had lost control of my body. What should have been my tongue was a slab of cooked meat I wanted to spit out, but it was attached. I couldn't move and— Was that asshole getting closer? I was sizzling. Burning. Roasting. And he was the sun.

Dying.

I was dying .

And he couldn't care less.

"Please," Kierce shouted into the void. "Don't do this."

"Too late." He dismissed Kierce. "It's already done."

"Frankie." Kierce boomed my name, and the world trembled beneath me.

"Quit being dramatic," Dis Pater grumped, "or I'll take away your millet next time."

The fierce drum that had beat in my chest for my entire life slowed and then…

…it stopped cold.

In that stillness, within the silent cavern in my chest, the spark that crushed souls in the palm of my hand ignited into a flame that grew into a raging inferno. And the universe shredded my flesh off the bone like I was a Boston butt halfway to a pulled pork sandwich before slapping me together again.

"Well," Dis Pater drawled in an I told you so voice, "would you look at that."