Death Match (The Lazarus Codex Book 5) Read online

  “Drake and Codey pulled the case,” Nate answered.

  Emma cursed.

  “We don’t like Drake and Codey, then?” I asked.

  “Lily white, old-money assholes who bought their way into their position with fancy degrees and not a single day of hard work.” Emma ground her teeth. “But be careful of them. They’re climbers. They have no problems stepping on people to get to that next rung on their career ladders.”

  I was pretty sure I could handle a couple of uppity detectives, but I’d be careful just the same. I’d gotten spoiled working with Emma and Moses. Emma had tried to arrest me more than once, and she liked me. With my record, Detectives Drake and Codey would book me and forget about me.

  We reached the second floor which had a keypad lock in the stairway. With the power out, the lock was disengaged and Nate just pulled it open on a long, dark hallway. Doors appeared at seemingly random intervals as we walked. About halfway down, Nate turned his flashlight on a set of double doors. A sign announced we’d reached the exam and viewing room. He stepped toward it.

  “Shouldn’t we put on some HAZMAT gear or something?” I asked.

  He turned around and looked at me like I was crazy.

  “Emma said you said something about smallpox?”

  His face lit up. “Oh yes! That! Smallpox is spread through prolonged contact with infected persons, usually face-to-face. It’s not airborne. You’ll be fine as long as you don’t touch anything. Anyway, the virus isn’t active. It’s dormant. Come in.” Nate pushed through the double doors.

  Beside the door, he stopped to grab a box of sterile exam gloves and held them out for us to put on just in case.

  A metal gurney sat in the center of the room. I recognized the shape of a body resting under the teal sheet. The pale, watery moonlight came through the rain-streaked window, casting eerie shadows around the room. Nate grabbed a chair, pulled it over, and stood on it to tie the flashlight to a dangling string like he’d probably done a hundred times before. The flashlight wouldn’t be enough to see details, for which I was thankful.

  Despite what Emma said, I wasn’t afraid of dead bodies. I just didn’t like to be confronted with my own mortality, especially since I had a little girl to take care of. The thought of dying and leaving her all on her own scared the hell out of me.

  Plus, bodies are weird without people inside them. Since becoming the Pale Horseman, I’d come to consider personhood to be equal to possessing a soul. A soul made you alive. A few people could live without them, but they were broken, unsatisfied shells of their former selves. Ghosts were people. Shades weren’t, because they were only the tiny sliver of soul that was left behind during its transition into the After. Bodies weren’t either. Looking at a body without a soul was akin to looking at a steak and calling it the cow. It wasn’t wrong, not in the strictest sense, but it was uncomfortable.

  Once Nate had the flashlight affixed and he’d climbed down from the chair, he gripped the clipboard hanging on the end of the gurney. “I suppose now is a good time to mention that she came over from the University Medical Center as a Jane Doe. No ID, no insurance. Someone just dumped her in the parking lot and pulled off. I got the chart from the hospital with the body.” He offered Emma the clipboard.

  “Fever, malaise, muscle and backache...” She shook her head and handed it back. “Reads like the flu to me.”

  He took the clipboard back and attached it. “Almost every deadly disease out there masquerades as flu for the first forty-eight hours or so. Ebola, plague, dengue fever...”

  “And which one killed our Jane Doe?” I asked.

  Nate frowned. “That’s just the thing. The official cause of death is a heart attack.”

  I was halfway through pointing out that a heart attack didn’t constitute a weird body when Nate pulled the sheet off.

  The body underneath was female with the stringy muscle of someone who worked out a lot. Beyond that, there was almost nothing recognizably human about her. Little red bumps, each as big as a pinhead, covered her face. They were scarlet in color, which left the surrounding skin looking unnaturally pale and gray, even for a dead woman. It was as if all the blood in her body had been sucked into all those tiny red bumps.

  Further down the body, the little red bumps disappeared, and large black blisters appeared, covering the neck, the chest, and groin areas. Red and purple splotchy areas marked other places. They looked like a balloon of colors had exploded on the other side of her skin.

  “That doesn’t look like any heart attack I’ve ever seen,” Emma said.

  I took a step back from the body. “What is all that?”

  “Smallpox and Ebola, mostly, but she’s got traces of a dozen other viruses in her blood. Stool samples say cholera, she’s positive for strep and both avian and swine flu, as well as a few strains that haven’t even hit the general public yet.”

  I swallowed. “Yet? What do you mean yet?”

  “Get your flu shot this year, and you won’t have to find out.”

  Yikes. That didn’t sound good.

  For a minute, I tried to put myself in the poor woman’s shoes. Having just one of the diseases on that list had to be horrific. A single case of smallpox would’ve baffled doctors around the world and made the news since the WHO had declared it extinct. It was rare enough to be a news sensation. Same with any one of those diseases. But all of them together? The chances of that occurring naturally dropped to zero. This was magic, something big, powerful, and inherently nasty.

  “I’d say this counts as weird.” Emma picked up the clipboard again. “You mind if I borrow this and make a few calls? I’ll do what I can to keep this from hitting the papers.”

  Nate nodded. “I think that would be best.”

  She took the clipboard and stepped out.

  “So, what do you think?” Nate asked me. “Is this your kind of weird?”

  I considered it. There was definitely magic involved. The question was, what kind? If I could find out what kind of magic had been used, that’d narrow down the suspect pool considerably. “Could be a curse. How long between when she was dropped off at the hospital and death?”

  “Twelve hours. Symptoms developed at an unprecedented rate. Should’ve taken days.”

  If this was a curse, no single person could’ve cast it. I knew there were curses out there that could make someone come down with a cold, or wake up with a cold sore, but casting Ebola would be serious high-level magic: god and demigod-level magic.

  “I’d like to try something if you don’t mind. We might be able to get more information if I can raise her shade.”

  Nate plodded over to one of the drawers, bringing out candles and chalk. He’d seen me work enough times to know exactly what I needed and kept them on hand. I wondered what his co-workers thought when they came in the next morning and found the weird markings on the floor. It was a wonder Nate hadn’t been tossed into the loony bin.

  I drew my circle around the gurney and closed it with a drop of blood. Magic sprang up around me, amplified by the circle, and I reached for it, drawing it to my core. With my hands raised above my head, I repeated the words I’d said hundreds of times. “I summon forth the dead. I command you to commune with me in the realm of the living. Come forth!”

  Magic charged from my hands into the circle. My psyche reached into the body, searching for the shade to pull out, but there was nothing there. No shade, no ghost. It was just an empty shell.

  That couldn’t be right. Even if the soul had moved on to the After, the shade was supposed to remain with the body for seven days. Those were the rules. Even with magic, you couldn’t break that rule. That was how death worked, and you didn’t just change the rules when it came to death. Unless...

  “Nate, how long has she been dead?”

  He blinked. “Body came in at shift change, which means she must’ve died this afternoon.”

  There was only one reason why a body wouldn’t have a shade so soon after death. Someone
had forcibly removed the soul in its entirety.

  Chapter Three

  I plopped to the ground, exhausted, and broke the circle. Sweat mixed with drying rainwater on the back of my neck, making it itch even worse. Staring at the sores on the body in the room didn’t help with the itching either.

  Nate inched closer. “What happened?”

  “There’s no shade.”

  He gave the body a wary look. “Is that possible?”

  I nodded. There were only two things I knew of that could remove a soul. I was one of them. There were two other Horsemen out there, but I hadn’t run into them, and Baron Samedi was supposed to let me know if they showed up in town. I was Death—the Pale Horseman. A few months ago, I’d killed Famine. That left War and Pestilence. If I had to pick one to be responsible, I’d have chosen Pestilence. The problem was, I didn’t know who the other Horsemen were, and as far as I knew, they weren’t in town.

  The other thing that could do it was an Archon. Archons were nasty business, parasitic soul beings that inhabited a host body. They couldn’t occupy the same space as a human soul, so if they zipped into someone, their soul got pushed out. I’d run into two Archons so far and hadn’t been able to defeat either. In theory, I knew it could be done. I’d watched one Archon kill another. They seemed vulnerable when they were outside their host bodies. It was expelling them from the body that was difficult. Plus, once they were outside the body, there was the question of what to do with a body with no soul. They became one of the Undying, a creature without any love for anyone or anything, the exact definition of soulless.

  Nate sighed and pulled the sheet back over the body. “Where do we go from here then?”

  “We do this the old-fashioned way,” Emma said from just inside the doors. “We find out who she was and learn everything we can about her, her known associates, and her family. Hopefully, that leads to an angle we can chase.”

  I grunted and pushed myself to my feet. “What about Drake and Codey? They won’t be irked you’re doing all the leg work?”

  She crossed her arms and leaned slightly to one side. “Who’s going to tell them? As far as they’re concerned, we’re just two private citizens with a health concern.”

  “You’ll need access to a computer to do most of that, and you won’t get that until the power’s restored.” Nate went around snuffing out the candles I’d lit for the ritual, darkening the room. “Knocking on doors this late in a power outage probably isn’t a good idea either. I prescribe six to eight hours of sleep for the both of you.”

  “Good idea,” Emma said.

  I peeled off my gloves and deposited them in the trash can near the door. “If you or Leah have any questions or need to get a hold of me, my cell still works.”

  “Yep.” Nate ushered us toward the door.

  “And remember about the iron. No iron.”

  “I know, Laz. Don’t worry. No offense, Laz, but I’ve seen corpses come in in better shape than you. You need to eat some good food, get some rest, and quit worrying. Remy’s safe with us. I promise.” He pulled a smaller flashlight from the pocket of his white lab coat and slapped it into Emma’s hand. “Make sure he actually gets some rest, would you?”

  Emma took the flashlight and clicked it on. It cast a wedge of watery light on the dark hallway that only made it a shred less creepy. “Not going to show us out?”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Nate pushed his glasses up his nose. “I’m already a good hour behind on the power outage procedure. I’ve got work to do. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He shooed us through the double doors and went back in, leaving Emma and me alone in the dark, creepy hallway of the morgue.

  I shivered at the thought of him pulling body after body from the freezer. Where’d they put those during an extended power outage? Wasn’t something I wanted to think about.

  The flashlight beam swung right and moved away. I rushed to keep up with Emma. She walked fast for someone her height. We made it to the stairs before she turned around and shined the light in my face. “Do you think this could be Morningstar?”

  I flinched away from the light and reached to move the beam out of my eyes. “Doubt it. He could do it, but it just doesn’t feel like his style. He’s more the rip-out-your-still-beating-heart kind of guy. He wouldn’t have the patience to kill someone with diseases. Instant gratification is pretty much his signature move.”

  “Right.” She lowered her head, turned and pushed through the door.

  Our footsteps echoed loudly down the stairwell. The stairs were narrow and dark, necessitating that I hold onto the handrail if I didn’t want to step wrong and break an ankle. Emma seemed in a hurry though. She charged on ahead, making it to the next landing before I’d even gotten there halfway.

  “You know, you still haven’t told me what it cost to bring me back,” I called after her.

  She stopped and flashed the flashlight in my direction. “I told you. Medical miracle. I figured your powers protected you, or some god on your good side intervened.”

  I snorted. “There aren’t any gods on my good side.”

  Technically, Anubis had been until I killed him. That sucked. I actually liked the guy, but he was duty-bound to fight me to the death, and so he did. The powers that be would have to assign me a new reaper. I didn’t imagine people were fighting each other for the job considering what happened to the last two.

  “Then I don’t know what to tell you, Lazarus. I wasn’t involved.”

  And New Orleans was twenty feet above sea level. Both were equally likely to be true. I’d made a pact with Emma that prevented me from lying to her. Unfortunately, that didn’t work in reverse, and she could lie all she wanted. There were spells I could use to make her tell me, but that wasn’t the sort of thing a necromancer did to friends. She’d tell me on her own eventually. I just had to convince her it was safe to do so.

  The stairs ended abruptly at the next landing and Emma pushed through the door into the lobby area.

  I followed only to run straight into her. “Oof. Warn me of sudden stops, would you?”

  “What the hell do you want?” Emma growled.

  I blinked, thinking she was talking to me until I noticed another shape blocking out the dim light filtering through the glass front doors. The shape was feminine, curvy. Whatever she was wearing clung to her hips and chest in such a way that it was impossible not to notice. I thought I recognized her, but I wasn’t sure until she spoke.

  “So serious, aren’t we?” Khaleda said.

  Khaleda Morningstar was probably the scariest predator in the city next to her dad. When you’re the literal spawn of the Devil, I guess that almost goes without saying. She was a succubus and scary good with alchemical potions as well as blades and firearms. Trouble followed her like a lovesick puppy.

  She strode away from the door, hands on her hips, and stepped into Emma’s flashlight beam. Khaleda was wearing her working clothes, which consisted of a black leather catsuit, perfect for sneaking around on rooftops and shooting people from a hundred yards.

  I put a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Relax, if she was going to hurt us, she’d be on the roof across the street, and we’d never see her.”

  “Now that’s not fair. Why would I ever want to hurt my two favorite humans?” She moved closer.

  Emma tensed. “Take another step, and I’ll drop you where you stand.”

  Khaleda’s plump lips turned up in an amused smile. “With what? That puny flashlight?”

  “With my bare hands, bitch. Back up. I’ve got a lot of aggression to work out.”

  To my surprise, Khaleda lifted her hands in surrender and took a step back. “You need to get laid more.”

  “Okay, that’s enough of that.” I slid past Emma to step between them. “Tell us what you want or get out of our way.”

  “Daddy wants a meeting.”

  “You tell Morningstar if he wants to talk to come get me himself.” I linked my arm with Emma’s. “Come on. Let’s get you ho
me before you turn into a pumpkin.”

  Khaleda didn’t move as we closed so I bumped her aside with my shoulder. No way in hell was I going to let her intimidate me.

  “You might want to listen to what he has to say, Lazarus.”

  I pushed open the glass door. The parking lot was a river. Lightning flashed, and black clouds rolled in front of the moon. “Why? What could Morningstar possibly offer me that I don’t already have?”

  Her eyes traveled to Emma. “How about her soul? Is that enough?”

  My skin prickled. That was it, wasn’t it? The thing she’d traded to Morningstar to fix me. Holy shit. I turned, grabbed Emma by the shoulders and hunched down to look her in the eyes. “You sold your soul to fix me?”

  “Calm down.” She shrugged my hands away and stepped back. “I’ve still got my soul.”

  “For now,” Khaleda added with a shrug. “He can’t collect it until she’s dead, but that’s just fine print for Daddy Dearest.”

  “I plan on living a good, long while,” Emma growled.

  I shook my head. “Not if Morningstar’s got anything to say about it, Emma, and trust me he does. That guy’s a monster. He’ll do whatever he can to hurry that along. A car crash on a dark and stormy night sounds perfect. So does death by an assassin’s bullet.” I glared at Khaleda.

  There was no shortage of ways Morningstar could drag Emma to an early grave in hopes of obtaining her soul. He’d do it, too, if only to have leverage over me. I didn’t know precisely why he wanted me in his corner, but he’d done an awful lot lately to try and win me. All my medical bills mysteriously disappeared, and a mysterious benefactor left a large envelope of cash in my car addressed to Remy. I had turned it into the police. I didn’t want Morningstar’s blood money.

  When that didn’t work, the business took off. I had enough clients now that I was considering taking on help to run the place. Whenever I asked people who referred them, it was always the same answer: Morningstar. We were overdue for a chat, Morningstar and me.