Chapter 12

The room was a twisted carnival of grotesquery. It made Ripley’s Believe It or Not look like a Precious Moments museum. Skulls with missing jaws and hollow eyes served as lamps, their flickering light casting macabre shadows creeping across the walls. Shrunken heads surrounded us on pedestals. No matter where you moved in the room, it felt like they were watching you.

Like the Mona Lisa. But way freakier.

Baron Samedi pushed his hands into a steeple. “What is wrong, little one?”

I shivered. “Sorry. You said you had a story to tell. I’m just a little distracted by your unique… decor.”

“It’s quite disgusting.” Annabelle said it with such a tone that if she’d chosen different words—or if someone didn’t know English—one might mistake it for a compliment. “Reflects your personality.”

“Merci, chérie,” Baron Samedi replied, his grin as wide as the crescent moon and twice as unsettling. He lounged back in his chair, fingers tapping rhythmically on his polished-bone table. “As much as I’d love to give you the tour of my humble abode, I am not oblivious to the tension in the air.”

“We know who you are. And I know what you’re doing. This room, all this death, it’s a reminder of who you are and what power you have.” Sebastian crossed his arms. “I can’t speak for everyone, but you don’t intimidate me. I’m not impressed. But if your story will show us how to exorcize these ghosts from vampires, we’re all ears.”

Baron Samedi laughed and gestured at a few of his skulls dangling from his ceiling. “Yes, you do still have all your ears. Unlike my friends here. He who has ears to hear, let him hear.”

Annabelle huffed. “You seriously are quoting Jesus right now?”

Baron Samedi laughed. “Another who once escaped my grasp! Death couldn’t hold that one. But he did so legitimately, according to his nature. He was no mere mortal. The wizard, Anqi Sheng, however. That’s another story.”

“Then get on with it and tell us the story,” Annabelle insisted, her eyes never leaving the Baron. She’s dealt with Baron Samedi two or three times—maybe more—in the past. So far as I understood it, the Baron could be either good or evil—an ally or an adversary. It all depended on which aspect of the Baron you were dealing with at the moment. The green and red glow, one in each eye, suggested we were dealing with all of his personas at once.

Was he a friend or foe? Hard to say, but we needed answers, and if this story held them, I was eager to hear it.

“Anqi Sheng was a powerful wizard, well before he cheated me. He dabbled in arts so dark even the shadows trembled,” Baron Samedi began, his voice weaving a spell of its own. “He sought immortality above all else. His hunger for it burned brighter than the stars. But even stars must die. Even they bow to me, eventually. Anqi Sheng never did.”

“We know what he achieved,” Annabelle said. “How did he do it?”

Donnie and Sebastian each nodded, as if echoing Annabelle’s question without words.

“Patience, children,” the Baron continued. “I’m getting there. While you know me as Baron Samedi, I’m known by many names to many people.”

I nodded. “Right. The Grim Reaper. The Angel of Death.”

“To the Egyptians, I was Anubis. The Greeks called me Hades. To the Romans, I was Pluto. I’ve been called Yama, Mictlantecuhtli, Shinigami, and even a stroke of bad luck, or natural selection. To the atheists out there. But to Anqi Sheng and his people, I was always Yan Wang.”

I glanced around the room. “Let me guess, your style has always been this… eclectic.”

“Oh, these are just a few of my favorite pieces. I have them on a rotation. I have a collection of fabulous death masks from the Huns that I intend to put on display next month, if you’d care to pay me another visit then.”

“We’ll pass.” I said. “Please continue with the story.”

“There is much I could say about Anqi Sheng’s exploits. I never took him all that seriously. Many had sought to escape me before, none had ever succeeded. That was my error. I underestimated the wizard’s skill and resolve. I thought nothing of it when Anqi Sheng reached the precipice of death, his magic spent. Another mortal dying after wasting his life trying to extend an existence his obsession consumed.”

“I’m guessing that’s not what happened.”

The Baron shook his head. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? So many waste away their years trying to escape death, so terrified of me they fail to live! Perhaps they seek a fountain of youth, an elixir of immortality, or devote years to a health regimen. Perhaps they fiddle with their genetics and telomeres. Others attempt to create cyborgs, or databases to house their consciousness postmortem. Whether through religion or science, the pursuit of immortality most often comes at the cost of the precious few years of happiness we’re given.”

“We don’t need lessons on serenity and happiness,” I said. “I’m guessing Anqi Sheng’s magic wasn’t spent in the end. He found a way.”

The Baron nodded. “He knew then he must face judgment—my judgment. To him, of course, I was always Yan Wang, the King of Diyu. He knew that after years of attempts failed, the only way to defeat death was to deceive him. To deceive me.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “You’re known for your bargains and crossroads trickery. You’re saying a mortal got the best of you”

“How do you suppose I got so good at such deceptions?” Baron Samedi asked. “I was once deceived and thereafter determined never to allow a mortal to best me in a bargain again.”

“Hence the birth of the crossroads devil,” Sebastian shook his head. “Interesting history to hear directly from death’s mouth.”

“It took some time to perfect my skill, I admit.” Baron Samedi folded his hands together on the table. “I read everything I could on the subject. Rich Death, Poor Death. That’s a good one. How to Win Souls and Influence Suckers. Then, of course, who could forget The Art of the Deal.”

“We get it,” Annabelle said. “You became a master manipulator.”

“All because of Anqi Sheng,” the Baron continued. “Up until that point, after all, no one had tricked me out of death. Anqi Sheng devised a cunning trick, you see. As he lay on his deathbed, he split his soul in two. One half—the weak, mortal part—he allowed to pass on. The other, the stronger half, he bound into a jade pendant.”

“Like a horcrux!” Donnie blurted out. “This guy really is like Voldemort! Sorry, he who must not be named. Not supposed to say it out loud.”

I rolled my eyes. “What did he do with the pendant?”

“The wizard had an accomplice. A cunning crane, Yokai, took the pendant and hid it in the deepest part of the Jade Sea,” the Baron continued, his hollow eyes staring through us as if he was looking into history—which, perhaps, he was. Considering that he existed outside of time. Hell, he was probably experiencing this story at the same time he was telling it. Confused? Yeah, me too. It’s a real mind-fuck when you’re engaging timeless demigods. “When Anqi Sheng’s spectral form arrived in Diyu, he appeared to me frail. He looked a sorry sight, and I pitied him. He feared in such a state he might reincarnate as a gnat, perhaps a worm. As so many do, he begged for another chance. And as I was sometimes apt to do, I was inclined to grant his request. Provided, of course, he agreed to a bargain.”

I rolled my eyes. “The wizard earned your pity?”

“Never again!” the Baron’s voice boomed.

“You can see the future, right? I mean, you’re timeless. How the hell did he get the better of you?”

Baron Samedi took a deep breath, quelling the storm that the recollection of these events churned in his deathly spirit. “It’s not as you think. Any event I experience I do so apart from its consequences—but every action I take reveals to my mind in what you’d call the future the inevitable result of my choice.”

“Talk about a mind fuck.” I shook my head.

“Not my particular pleasure, but to each her own.”

The Baron clearly didn’t understand the idiom. The notion of taking a “mind fuck” literally was disturbing, to say the least. Yeah, the Baron said it wasn’t his cup of tea. But seeing all the shrunken heads and mangled skulls surrounding us in his room, I had to wonder what he did with them when he was all by himself.

“What were the terms of his bargain?” Annabelle asked. I was grateful she spoke up. It got me past the unfortunate… image… that had manifested in my imagination. Seriously. Are normal people as deranged in their own heads as I am? Probably. But no one else writes about it in their autobiography. Like the one you’re reading right now.

“We agreed he might return to earth, broken as he was, and seek to make himself whole again. Should he succeed, I’d grant him a full mortal life full of blessing, and a promise to return to life when he reincarnated into a nobleman’s family. But if he failed, which I was sure he would, he’d never return in any form to the world. He’d remain my servant in Diyu forever.”

I pinched my chin. “Let me guess, he didn’t come back with a new outlook on life. He didn’t become whole again by virtue and charity.”

“Correct,” Baron Samedi said, his tone darkening. “But that’s not all. This is how he deceived me. He said a mortal life of blessing, a promise to be reborn in a nobleman’s body, was not sufficient. Should he make himself whole again—something I’d never seen a soul in his condition accomplish—he could have a share in my authority, he could bestow the gift of life and death to those whom he chose so long as he might live. And he might also hold the key to his own mortality as a reward.”

“You agreed to that?” Annabelle shook her head. “What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking he’d never do it. Again, I’d never seen one with a soul so pitiful as his, recover. I was certain he’d be mine. I’d promised him virtual immortality, I supposed, but he was on the brink of death. I didn’t expect in his condition he’d endure another week, much less multiple millennia!”

“Oops.” I shrugged.

“I did not agree to the full terms of his proposal,” Baron Samedi continued. “I told him that should he succeed, and wished to exercise my authority over others, he could do so only under the condition that he not violate the soul of a willful other. He could grant nothing to anyone whose soul did not consent.”

“And vampires don’t have souls.” I shook my head. “Which is why he’s using us. Another loophole in your poorly negotiated bargain.”

The Baron shook his head. “The Art of the Deal wasn’t as great as its author made it out to be. Shame on me.”

I smirked. “So the damned wizard got the best of you, eh?”

“Anqi left the gates of Diyo with the bargain he’d planned to secure all along. He exploited my pity and my arrogance. We’d sealed the bargain with a drink.”

“Let me guess,” I added. “He came back to life. The Yokai retrieved the pendant, and with a foul ritual, the broken-half of the vile wizard transferred the magical half of his soul back into his body. And since he’d restored himself, he held the key to his own mortality, per the terms of the bargain.”

“And the ability to grant my power over other vessels—provided those vessels were absent of souls that could consent to his wishes.”

“Typical,” I sighed. “Never trust a wizard. It’s bad mojo. But I still have questions.”

The Baron grinned. “Of course you do.”

“Why wait until now? Anqi could have used many vampires through the centuries. He could have brought back the emperor’s army at any time.”

“I did not tell you the precise wording of our deal,” the Baron said. “I granted him my authority over death, but did not promise to teach him how to wield my power. He’s had access to my authority for thousands of years. I knew he’d never have the power necessary because the power to wield my authority is mine alone.”

“You didn’t expect he’d study a little voodoo,” Annabelle added. “He learned how to bind you. How to control you.”

“He’d tried before,” Baron Samedi said. “Many times, in fact, but no other tradition had ever managed to create a ritual that could manipulate me that way.”

“It’s forbidden in our circles,” Annabelle explained. “Not common practice in voodoo. It’s the kind of power wielded by the Bokors.”

“But you know how to perform the rite. Someone from your community, Miss Mulledy, shared this information with the wizard.” The Baron cleared his throat, fixing his eyes back on me. “I am not bound to him here and now, but I am not bound to time or space. I am at once free but always bound to do his will… albeit within a limited time on earth when he’s bound my abilities and commanded my power.”

“Alright,” I started, my voice a mix of skepticism and desperation. “How do we stop Anqi Sheng? And what’s the catch?”

“Ah, chérie,” Baron Samedi began, his eyes gleaming in the flickering candlelight. “To overcome the one who deceived me into granting him immortality requires a sacrifice.” He let the word hang in the air, savoring the tension like a fine wine. “Only another immortal, granted the gift not by my deception but according to my desire, can make that sacrifice.”

“Meaning what exactly?” I pressed, my patience wearing thin. “Someone has to give up their immortality?”

“Precisely,” he said with a nod. “One must renounce their eternal life. Only then will they gain the power—if they can wield magic—to counteract Anqi’s sorcery and reverse the chaos he’s wrought.”

“Wait,” I said, feeling the cold grip of realization tightening around my heart. “Are you saying... I have to give up my immortality? Become human again?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, his tone suddenly grave. “You must become mortal once more.”

“So I get to trade in my superhuman strength, my eternal youth, and my badass vampire powers in exchange for… my friends and wrinkles?”

“Indeed,” Baron Samedi chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to vibrate through the very bones of the room. “But there is no deception here, Mercy. The consequences of refusal are dire. If you do not accept this offer, Anqi Sheng will continue to disrupt the balance, and many more souls will suffer.”

“No catch?” I exchanged a look of incredulity with Annabelle. “You expect me to believe that?”

“I make no unreasonable demands,” the Baron continued, ignoring our exchange. “This is your choice. I’ve told you how you might gain the power to defeat Anqi Sheng.”

“How you might sacrifice me to get vengeance on the asshole, you mean?”

“It’s not my sacrifice to make. It is yours. And in exchange, I offer nothing. But it does give you a chance to save your friends. A chance is all I can promise.”

“There’s no other way?” I cocked my head.

“This is the only solution I can offer,” he said, his eyes boring into mine. “And if you refuse, that is your prerogative. But know that more than just your loved ones will pay the price. The emperor will grow his empire. He will change the world.”

“And I hate to say it,” Annabelle added. “But it’ll only be a matter of time before the emperor possesses you. If you aren’t a vampire any more, if the Baron is offering you a human soul, he won’t be able to harm you.”

“He won’t be able to possess me, but that doesn’t mean he can’t hurt me!” I shouted. “I’ll be weak! He’ll be able to snap my neck, bleed me out, or kill me with a thousand paper cuts. There’s no end to the creativity one might employ when killing a human—because your species is so damn fragile. I’ll be mortal, Annabelle!’

“Being mortal isn’t so bad,” Sebastian added. “It’s all I’ve ever known. And I’m alright with it.”

I crossed my arms. “This sucks.”

“Actually…” Donnie piped in. “It’ll mean no more sucking for you.”

An awkward silence filled the air.

“Sorry,” Donnie mumbled and turned to Sebastian. “Too soon?”

“Great,” I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Just great.”

“Remember.” Baron Samedi leaned forward in his chair. “This is about redemption as much as it is about sacrifice. It’s about saving the people you care about. Not to mention sparing the rest of the world from the vampiric emperor’s dominion.”

“Annabelle.” I turned to her, hoping she’d discerned whatever fine print might have been hidden in the sub-text of what the Baron proposed. “What do you think happens if I do this and fail? The Baron said I’d get the power that might give me a chance to beat the wizard. As a witch, not a vampire. What if I don’t beat the wizard?”

“Good question,” she agreed, looking pointedly at the Baron. “What’s the fine print, Baron? What happens then?”

“Should you fail,” he admitted, “you will serve me in death. You will not suffer in vampire hell, for you will no longer be a vampire. But you will remain my eternal emissary forever.”

“Sounds like a euphemism for the Baron’s eternal bitch,” Pauli interjected. “Honey, there’s no love lost between us, but as a hougan myself, the last Loa you want to owe eternal servitude to is this one.”

“Pauli!” the Baron shook his head. “I’m hurt! I thought we had something special.”

Pauli sighed. “I told you that was a one time deal! You didn’t pay me enough for the boyfriend experience.”

I shuddered. “Another mental image I’d rather forget. But tell me, Baron. If I fail, and I serve you, what happens to my friends?”

“Either way, your sacrifice will restore the balance between life and death. You will either take Anqi’s place, the price he offered me once for the bargain he made in poor faith, or you will destroy him and gain what I’d promised him. A comfortable human life. His deal will be fulfilled and the agreement that he can access my power shall be null and void.”

“Fantastic.” I crossed my arms. “So it’s either eternal servitude or a cozy retirement plan.”

“Mercy, you don’t have to do this.” Annabelle took my hand in hers. As if we were besties or some shit. “We’ll find another way if we must.”

“Another way...” I echoed, staring at the cigarette the Baron gave me. It contained my soul. All I had to do was smoke it and I’d become human again. “What if there isn’t another way? What if this is our only chance to save my friends… and the world?”

“Your choice, chérie,” Baron Samedi said, leaning back and taking a long drag from a cigar. “But remember, once you leave this realm and return to your time, you’ll have little time to act. Anqi Sheng grows stronger by the day.”

“My choice.” I rolled my eyes. “But you already know what I’m going to choose. Because you exist in the future as much as the past and present.”

Baron Samedi grinned widely. “Perhaps I do. But I choose to hold those cards close to my chest.”

“Think of it this way,” Annabelle offered gently. “If you become human, you’ll have a chance at something you lost a long time ago. A real life.”

“Yeah.” I laughed bitterly. “A real short one.”

“Or maybe a fulfilling one,” she countered softly. “You could have children. A family, maybe. Or not. The point is you could do whatever you want. You could take a beach vacation. You could sunbathe and risk nothing at all—except maybe skin cancer. But that’s not guaranteed either. And it won’t be instantaneous. I digress. Whatever you do, you can finally rest.”

“Rest is for the weak,” I snapped, though my voice lacked conviction. “I’ve got people to protect. People who count on me.”

“Exactly,” Sebastian said firmly. “And they need you strong, whether as a vampire or a mortal witch. What you are doesn’t change who you are, Mercy. You’ll still be you. You’ll always be strong. No one can take that from you.”

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, running a hand through my hair again. Could I really trust the Baron, or was this just another elaborate trick? Was becoming mortal worth the risk, worth the chance to defeat Anqi Sheng and save everyone?

“Tick-tock, Mercy,” the Baron teased, his rumbling laughter filling the room once more.

“The clock doesn’t start until we leave,” I growled, tucking my soul-cigarette into my bra. “I’ll think about it.”

The Baron stood up and gestured to the door. “Either way, I must insist you leave. I have an appointment with the missus!”

“An appointment?” Pauli asked. “You make appointments for that?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Baron Samedi asked. “If you want to take a ride with death, be you my wife or not, you need to get on my schedule.”

“Come on,” I announced to the team. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Tsk, tsk!” the Baron raised his flask. “This will only work if we drink on it.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Already have the cigarette. Fuck that.”

“But that’s not all you require! Smoke it and you’ll become human, that’s true. But you will not have the power you need—my power—to confront the wizard if you do not agree to the deal.”

“Same terms as Anqi made,” I nodded. “No more, no less.”

“Agreed.”

The Baron handed me his flask.

“And if I decide not to smoke my soul back into my body?” I asked.

“Then the contract is null and void. You’ll owe me nothing. Neither will I have any obligation to you.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Can I have a vampire turn me back again? Once this is over?”

“Sure,” the Baron nodded at me. “But I suspect once you taste mortality again, you’ll see things differently.”

I shrugged. “Doubt it.”

“Keep in mind, should you become a vampire a second time, you will no longer be the progeny of Niccolo the Damned. You will no longer hold a royal bloodline. You will be a youngling. A new vampire. Bound to your maker.”

“Yeah, got it.” I snatched the flask out of the Baron’s bony fingers. Before anyone could stop me, before I could stop myself, I took a swig. It tasted like ass—because a bargain that might make me human again was bound to have a bitter flavor on my palette. But I had a way… a last resort… if it came to that.

But there wasn’t any question about it. I knew it when I took the drink. This was the only path ahead. My nights as the bloody queen… were over.

“One more thing,” I added. “You said I’d have a new power that I’ll need to beat the wizard?”

The Baron nodded as we headed for the door. “Consider it an upgrade to your soul. When you take the puff, you’ll feel it. As a witch, you’ll know what to do.”