23

Vic

Everything hurt. Everything. The emptiness in his chest was new and horrible. It was almost worse than being shot again.

“Vic. You have to wake up,” someone was saying. “We can’t carry you.”

Coughing, Vic opened his eyes. Dr. Binder—Bobby—leaned over him, looking terrified.

The sky had darkened, blocked by a forest of steel and glass. The buildings had come closer. They blotted out the sky.

“You’re all right,” Bobby said. “Just shocked I think.”

“Mel?” Vic asked, taking the hand Bobby offered him.

“She’s holding them off.”

Mel stood on the Cutlass’s hood, feet apart, head turned skyward to face down a city made of demons. Dried blood stained her shirt, but she had bandages on her neck.

Vic could feel something, a push and pull of wills. It was like what he felt when the elves contended, when Silver had killed his father. He could feel Mel’s strain as the buildings curved, closing like so many fingers.

Death’s daughter had remembered who she was, but even she couldn’t hold them back forever.

Jodi stood next to the car, eyes darting from side to side, seeking escape like a frightened rabbit.

Vic didn’t have to ask about Adam. He’d seen it as he’d passed out.

The demon, the Hanging Tree, was gone. A ring of burnt salt marked its location. Inside, there was nothing.

Damn it, Adam, Vic thought, squeezing back tears.

Adam had killed the demon and saved them. He’d saved all of them, again.

“We have to get out of here,” Vic said, staggering toward the car.

“It’s too late,” Mel said. “The road is gone.”

The demons had left only the slimmest of alleys, and Vic did not want to imagine what would happen if they ran that way.

The hollow dead still fell like rain, breaking around them, soaking the ground in water that belonged to the Ebon Sea.

“Why did he do that?” Jodi demanded, eyes shining as she turned back and forth as the cage closed. “He blew himself up. He tossed out that circle and they . . . Like those buildings and the Nazis. Just . . . gone. Why did he do that?”

“Because he’s Adam,” Vic said.

It was who Adam was, and why Vic loved him.

There should have been more pain, and there probably would be, but Vic’s heart had shut down, overloaded by the loss.

If Adam was still out there, Vic could not feel him. He’d always been able to feel him, always, even if it was just a little—always, no matter how far away they’d gone and no matter how angry or upset one of them had been with the other.

Adam.

Gone.

Vic was in shock. He’d had the training to know the signs. He’d break down soon, but not now.

This wasn’t the time.

Spying the baton, Vic bent to lift it.

He could feel the Reaper swirling around him like a happy puppy, glad to be home. Even if he could free it, he could not take on a city.

Mel’s focus began to slip. She could not hold the demons back much longer.

Vic gripped the baton. Bobby and Jodi looked at him expectantly.

“I don’t know if I can do anything with it—get us home I mean, not without him.”

John had been right about that. He’d closed the way when he’d cut the link between them.

“We’re not going home,” Jodi said. “We need a new plan. We need to get him back.”

“You can’t,” a voice said. “He’s gone beyond. Even Death could not find him there.”

The dead stopped falling. The buildings stopped advancing. Everything around them stopped, frozen in place.

“Vran?” Bobby asked, sounding uncertain.

Vic understood Bobby’s hesitation. The elf wasn’t as Adam had described him, a mischievous and brooding boy. He was still dark, with blue-black hair cut short and styled in spikes. He looked at least twenty, maybe older. His ripped shirt and jeans exposed patches of pale skin.

Black veins ran like tree roots or forked lightning across his body and face. His eyes gleamed, large, with a similar darkness.

“You’ve changed,” Bobby said.

Vran looked at his hands.

“He’s gone beyond,” the elf repeated, sounding broken-hearted. “But I can take you home.”

Vran gestured to the narrow door behind him. It showed a night sky, a normal night sky. A breeze, a regular breeze, blew through it. Vic almost wept at the feel of it on his face.

“You’ll have to leave the car,” Vran said. “I can’t carry that much.”

“How?” Bobby asked. “You couldn’t get us home before.”

“I’m not what I was,” Vran said.

“Are you doing that?” Mel asked, staring at the frozen sky. “What are you?”

“I am what I will be when the undertakers are done with me,” Vran said. “But I am not good at it yet. I cannot hold the door much longer.”

“We can’t just leave him!” Jodi said.

Vic’s heart ached. He nearly laughed. He’d felt this before, when Eduardo passed.

He’d been so worried when the demons had eaten his pain. He would let them have it now, let them have it all. It would make quite a meal.

Mel laid a hand to his shoulder. Vic faced her and knew she understood. He gave a little nod.

“He’s not here,” Vic said. “We can’t reach him. Our only chance to find him is to get to someone who can.”

Bobby looked back at the Cutlass. Vic didn’t have to ask what he was thinking.

Adam loved his car.

Come back to me, Vic thought, knowing it went nowhere, that Adam would not hear him. I’ll buy you any damn car you want. Just come back to me.

“Go,” Vic said, nodding to the door. “Before it closes.”

He went last.

Vic caught sight of eyes, green and shining, like the coyote he’d once spotted on 285, driving to the mountains to blow off steam.

These weren’t coyotes.

Vic shuddered as the door closed, leaving them in an autumn night that smelled of dead leaves and recent rain.

“How did you find us?” Bobby asked Vran.

“I had help,” he said, pointing as something curled around Vic’s ankles.

Spider.

The black cat purred, stretching up on all fours, asking Vic to pick him up. Vic obliged.

“Thank you,” Vic said.

The lost connection ached, like Vic was missing a limb. Being whole only made it worse in some ways.

“Where are we?” Jodi asked. “Is this Oklahoma?”

Vic bit down on the need to say it did not matter. They were out. They’d come back, but they’d left Adam behind.

“It’s a drive-in,” Bobby said. “But not the Beacon, the one in Guthrie.”

This place was long abandoned. Weeds were everywhere. Trees encroached, trying to reclaim the space. The projector booth and concession stand were a ruin of broken glass and vandalism.

“Is everyone all right?” Bobby asked.

Spider stopped purring in Vic’s arms and glared at him.

Vic set him down.

“Thank you.”

The cat shook like he hadn’t enjoyed the affection and darted off into the bushes.

Vic reached for Adam, but nothing came, no pulse of emotion, no stray thought. The link was broken.

Jodi had her phone out.

“No power,” she said. “What do we do?”

Vic gripped the baton.

“Sara? Are you there, damn it?” he asked, looking from the low oak trees that surrounded the place to the torn screen. “We need to talk.”

She did not appear. She did not answer.

“She brought us here,” Vran said. “And now we’re here again. I thought if she was watching, if she could help, that she’d meet us here.”

“We brought Mel!” Vic called. He turned to her. “Can you take me to the Hanging Tree? To her trailer?”

“No,” she said, looking at Vran with a bit of awe. “I am no world walker.”

Vic let out a breath.

“I can’t,” Vran said. He swayed on his feet. “I’m not him anymore, not what I’ll be.”

“It’s okay,” Vic said, putting his hands to Vran’s shoulders to steady him. “You got us out. You did good, Vran.”

The black in his eyes had dimmed to ocean blue.

“I wanted to help,” he said.

“You have. You did. You saved him. You saved us.”

Vic did what Adam would do and wrapped Vran in his arms.

The elf sagged into Vic’s hug. He felt weak and cold. Vic could not measure the price Vran had paid, but he knew it had cost the elf dearly to rescue them.

“What are we supposed to do?” Jodi demanded.

Vic looked up, over the top of Vran’s head, ready to snap back at her, but she was crying again. Whatever version of herself she’d constructed to make it through her shitty life had come undone.

Vic knew how she felt. He wasn’t who he’d been when this had started.

“How do we help him?” she asked. “He can’t be. He—goddamn it, Adam Lee.”

Vic reached out with an arm and pulled her in too.

“You know, he’s supposed to be the huggy one,” Vic said.

“Guys,” Bobby said. “Someone’s coming.”

Vic looked up to see headlights approaching. They were the big round kind, at least a dozen cars heading toward the drive-in.

“The demons?” Bobby asked. “Did they follow us back?”

“Do you still have your gun?” Vic asked Bobby, moving to stand beside him.

“No, I dropped it,” Bobby said.

“We should run,” Jodi said.

The cars roared to a stop, making a half circle, their headlights nearly blinding. Vic stood in front of the others, baton in hand, ready to fight. He hadn’t stood a chance against the city, but he might make a difference here.

A single figure walked into the headlight beams. They lit her like a spotlight, which fit the old movie elegance she wore so casually.

“I can’t leave you boys alone for a minute,” Argent said.

Then Vic was the one crying.

He pocketed his baton and raced to catch the elf in an embrace.

“Easy, Baby Reaper,” she said, squeezing him once before putting him at arm’s length, her hands on his shoulders so she could take him in.

Argent frowned, and Vic had no doubt she knew.

“We have to find him,” Vic said.

“We will, but there are things we must attend to first.”

Vic opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off, “Fond as I am of Adam, the whole of reality is a tad more important.”

“What are you talking about?” Vic asked.

“Death, Vicente. We think she’s dying.”

Vic gaped, uncertain how to respond.

He took in Argent’s appearance. She wore a generous coat of black cashmere or some other fine wool over an emerald dress with a long slit that told him she could move in it. Her long boots completed the picture: stylish, but practical. The Queen of Swords was prepared for a fight.

The other elves had left their cars to fan out around the drive-in.

Vic knew the formation. He’d been in it when they’d needed to question a suspected drug dealer and surrounded his house at four in the morning, only to learn he’d given a fake address. They’d left the scene after an apology to the startled, frightened homeowners.

The elves were dressed like gangsters from the forties. Mel would fit right in with them. They didn’t carry guns, but they didn’t need them either. Vic had seen what Argent and her brother could do. Even an elf with half their power could take Vic down without breaking a sweat.

Adam would have made a crack, but Vic remembered that family’s worry, the fear the uniforms brought. He tensed for a fight.

“What’s this about?” he asked Argent. “What’s with the troops?”

“We’re here for Vran,” she said.

“No,” Vic said. “He hasn’t hurt anyone, he saved us, saved Adam. More than once.”

“This is the law, Vicente,” Argent said. “You of all people should understand that.”

Vic opened his mouth to speak but felt a hand on his shoulder.

“She’s right,” Vran said. “My court did what they did. It was super dumb, and I told them not to, but they still did it.”

“What will you do to him?” Vic asked the queen.

“Vicente,” Argent said, sounding a little hurt. “When have you ever known me to hurt someone?”

Vic considered it.

It was true. Argent was powerful and quick to draw her sword, but he’d never seen her attack or kill except in defense.

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” he said.

“Noted,” Argent agreed.

They both had been there when Silver had executed his father without hesitation.

Argent turned to the circling elves.

“Vran, Page of Cups, of the Sea Upon the Land, youngest scion of the Sunken Garden, I am taking you into custody. You will not be harmed until a sentence is reached. So I swear, and so I command.”

“He’s hurt,” Vic said quietly. “I don’t know how exactly, but something is wrong with him.”

Argent didn’t say anything, but she gave the tiniest bob of her head.

Vic wondered how much power the Queen of Swords had in the new king’s court. As he understood it, her father had been hands off, but Silver was king now. Before, he’d been happy to let Argent take as much power as she wanted. Vic did not know how things stood now.

“You’re coming with us. All of you,” Argent said, waving to the cars.

They were cop cars, ancient, but they were police vehicles like the kind in black-and-white movies.

What was it with immortals and cosplay?

The elves circled, and Vic scowled. He’d never seen Argent bring any kind of backup, and to bring so many seemed like an unnecessary show of force.

Vic wondered how many of the elves were there to watch Argent on her brother’s behalf. After all, if he was king, didn’t that put her next in line? Vic didn’t know how it all worked. Argent had always been queen. It had something to do with the tarot suite—another thing Adam had promised to explain to Vic.

Vran went peacefully, but seeing this show of force for an injured boy solidified some of the things Vic had been feeling about authority, about what came with his badge and what came with his scythe. He was likely to be done with both jobs when all this was through.

Vran got his own car with an escort of three, two in the back seat and one in the passenger.

“What about the rest of us?” Vic asked.

The Binders looked lost. Jodi wore an expression of terror and wonder. Dr. Binder looked frozen, probably the face he wore when he had to tell patients bad news, only in this case he was the one bracing for impact.

“Adam is not here to stand for Vran,” Argent said.

“I’ll stand for him,” Bobby said. “He saved me too.”

“Me too,” Jodi said. “I mean, he got us out of there.”

“Understood,” Argent said. “It is noble of you.”

“Will it help?” Vic asked.

“Humans trying to protect an elf?” Argent mused. “To many, yes. To the old guard, no. We will have to see.”

Vic wasn’t up for smiling, but maybe there was some hope for Jodi yet.

“This is Mel,” Vic said, stepping aside and gesturing to her. “Sara sent Adam to bring her back.”

Argent cocked her head in one of her avian gestures as she sized Mel up.

“Then she’s important. We’ll deliver her immediately.” Argent began walking toward her own car, a longboat of a convertible. “You and her, come with me.”

Vic was pretty certain it was the same make as the car JFK had died in, which did not bode well.

“What about us?” Bobby asked.

“Go with the others,” Argent said. “They’ll take you to the watchtower.”

“Bullshit,” Jodi said. “What about Adam?”

“All will be tended to, Miss Binder,” Argent said in a tone that reminded Vic of how scary she could be. Jodi shrank.

“Your Majesty,” one of the elves said. “Should we not all return to your brother?”

Argent smiled, and even Vic felt the ground shudder, a hint of her power leaking through.

“Do as I say, Dautre. If my brother takes issue with my decisions he can discuss it with me.”

Vic almost felt sorry for the pretty, golden-haired elf as he paled to the color of ice.

“Yes, Lady,” he said.

Argent raised her voice again. “If any of them, Vran or the mortals in your care are harmed, we will have further words and, perhaps, a duel.”

The temperature dropped by several degrees.

As one, the elves bowed.

Usually Vic loved seeing Argent pull a bad ass move, but he did not like that there might be tension with her own people. It made him worry they wouldn’t have the support they needed.

“Shall we?” Argent asked.

Mel looked to Vic.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It will be all right.”

“You can’t promise that,” Mel said.

“No,” he admitted with a quick flick of his eyes at the elven queen. “But I hope it’s true.”