The Dead (The Thaumaturge Series Book 1) (26 page)

I shoved at him, staring at the face and when I recognized Cody, my racing heart gave a leap and then tried to settle.

“Stop it, stop,” I said to Marcus, grabbing at him as he tried to use me as a human shield. “It's Cody. It's my cousin.”

He stilled some, and I gave him a gentle push to get him off my lap. Marcus's sides heaved, but he gathered himself with wounded dignity and fumbled for the door handle. Cody stepped back to allow the door to swing open and then was crowding in, his face white and his eyes wild.

“Cody,” I said cautiously, the look on his face making all sorts of alarm bells go off in my head.

“There’s bodies,” he said without preamble, and then looked towards the idling truck, licking his lips.

Marcus and I exchanged a glance.

“Cody,” I repeated, and he looked back at me. He seemed to take in Marcus for the first time and his eyes widened a little.

“Fuck, man,” he said, one hand coming up like he was going to poke at Marcus's chest but thought better of it.

“I saw you,” he told Marcus.

“Okay.” Marcus said calmly. “Thanks.”

“What bodies, Cody?” I said, and Cody's eyes flitted back to me.

“Inside,” he said promptly. “I looked in the window. Did you bring your gun? Good, let's go.”

I had long ago lost control of this situation. “Cody, stop,” I hissed. He didn’t though, turning towards the building, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

We got out of the truck, and Cody didn't wait to give any more explanations. I followed him, his manic urgency contagious. Behind me, Marcus muttered a low curse but then he stepped up beside me, his expression oscillating between scared and straight up annoyed.

I lunged forward and grabbed hold of Cody’s arm. Behind us, I heard the metallic squeak of a car door opening. Beneath my hand, Cody tensed.

“Ebron,” Marcus warned.

Crunchy footsteps announced our visitors, and I turned to face them.

“Scott,” I greeted. “Cameron.”

“Ebron,” Scott said cautiously. He cradled a rifle in his arms and I saw him glance at my own gun, giving me a quick once over. He frowned at Cody, who swayed beside me with alarming intensity, but his eyes stuck on Marcus and stayed glued there.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I told Scott.

“If you’re about to go talk to the people who did it, then we’re in the right place,” Scott replied calmly.

I scowled and gave Cody a shake for good measure. A whiff of cheap whiskey rose from Cody’s coat as he jerked his arm out of my grasp.

“You shouldn’t be here, either,” I whispered to him.

“Dude,” Cody grumbled back non-sensibly, breathing whiskey fumes over my face.

Scott stared at me hard. “We can’t let this go,” he said gently, as though it should have been obvious. “We can’t just walk away.”

“You need to let me handle it,” I hissed. Marcus bumped his shoulder against mine, standing up a little straighter to make it perfectly apparent that he was on my side of the equation. I glared at him. My only real ally was somewhere off in the darkness, unseen but hopefully watching.

“You know who killed Aubrey,” Cameron said, his voice gruff and scratchy. He sounded tough, but his red eyes were hard to miss.

“Yeah, I do,” I replied. “But you can’t be here.”

Scott carefully and deliberately transferred his rifle from one hand to the other, making his point without making a show of it. “Are you going to stop us?” he asked.

I sighed heavily. “You should stay out here. Let me talk to them first.”

“All I need is one clear shot,” Scott challenged.

“You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” Marcus said suddenly, heat in his voice, all deep and full. He startled everyone, including me, and Cody visibly flinched. The reaction seemed to bolster Marcus and he continued, “I know these people, and you’re just canon fodder for them. You really need to stop and let us handle this.”

Scott wanted to argue; I could see him inhale and his brows draw down, but at that moment, the tinkling bell from my store’s front door chimed loudly and clear, carrying across the icy air.

“Is this a private party?” Corvin asked, leaning against the door jam with infuriating ease. “Why don’t we bring this inside? Out of the cold?”

I caught Scott’s eye. “Too late,” I snapped at him, and he looked away.

“C’mon,” Marcus said to me. He put his mouth close to my ear as I turned. “Be careful,” he whispered. Something pinched painfully right under my sternum. Marcus hooked his fingers in my belt loop, his breath hot against the back of my neck. I waited for it to be annoying, but it wasn't. We stumbled along together, awkwardly matching our strides, towards the warm glow of the open door. The others followed along behind us.

Corvin grinned and disappeared from the front door, leaving it hanging open. I stepped up to the sidewalk, pulling Marcus along with me. The sharp smell of incense wafted out on drifts of fragrant smoke. Marcus's fingers traveled from my belt loops to grasp around my wrist and I glanced briefly at him. He caught my eye and tightened his fingers before letting go. The contact was reassuring and I didn't want it to be.

“You should stay back,” Marcus said to Cody. “Keep your phone ready. In case things go bad.”

I couldn't see much of his face in the dark, but his hand found mine again and brushed against it.

“What are you going to do?” Cody asked.

“Try to talk to them,” Marcus said.

“You said there were bodies,” I said to Cody. “Where?”

His eyes went wide and he licked his lips. “They’re on the floor, man. I looked in the window and they were right there!”

“When?”

“Right when I called you.”

I stared at him, taking in his increasing perspiration. He shook his head. “I don't know. I'm gonna stay here, like he said. This is all too fucked up.”

“Okay,” I said, relieved. “Good.” He patted my shoulder awkwardly, gave Marcus a nod, and retreated back into the long shadows of the parking lot.

“We’re still coming though,” Scott growled from over my shoulder.

I flexed my hands inside my heavy gloves. My fingers felt stiff, knuckles still throbbing. The pain distracted me from the roll of fear in my stomach and I took a deep breath.

“Fine,” I said. “Don’t do anything stupid. Hold your fire until I give you the clear.” I stared at Scott until he grumbled but gave a grudging nod.

Marcus and I looked at each other. He took a breath and I imagined the air going into his perfect pink lungs, whole and unmarred. A confusing bundle of emotions swirled through me, and I trampled them down, balancing the weight of my gun in my hand.

“Okay,” Marcus said. “Lead the way.”

I looked back up at Cody's slim figure, standing still as a sentinel against the truck.

“Keep watch,” I called to him, and I got the sense that he nodded.

In we went, over the threshold. My boots creaked on the old wooden floor. Heavy incense burned my eyes. Marcus’s fingers slipped into my belt loop again. Together we edged past the counter, with Scott and Cameron crowded at our back. I peered over the rack of mortars and pestles, back toward the butcher block table. I caught a glimpse of grinning faces and ducked down instinctively. A low chuckle echoed across the room.

Gritting my teeth, I moved forward, stepping past the displays of pots and diffusers and fragrant edible flowers. Marcus panted harshly on my shoulder. My gun felt heavy in my hands.

Morgan came into view first. She stood alone, to the side of the library ladder. She held her shoulders square, her chest puffed out and her arms crossed. Her mouth twisted into a smile when her eyes met mine.

I stopped. Marcus shuffled awkwardly to stand beside me and Morgan’s smile widened.

“Hey, there,” she said softly.

Marcus tensed. Behind me, someone’s shoe squeaked on the wooden floor. I glanced over my shoulder. Scott fixed me with a hard look.

“Where’re Jim and Shaina?” Marcus cried, his voice breaking in the middle.

He took a step forward. His shoulder banged against mine and I moved with him. The counter came into view and I inhaled sharply, stumbling.

Corvin stood braced against the counter, his arms spread and his head cocked. His shoulders jutted up, the folds of his long coat hanging down, like a vulture gawking over its prey. His teeth peeked out from behind his sneering lips. Someone had taken the time to artfully arrange candles in such a way that shadows fell across his face, all very dramatic and probably meant to intimidate me. He needn't have bothered. My balls had crawled up into my body cavity at the sight of him, and all the little extrasensory antennae I had were going haywire, screaming “wrong, wrong, wrong!”

“Corvin,” I said politely, and something very unpleasant passed over his face.

“I think I found something of yours,” I said, nodding towards Marcus. Marcus whipped his head to the side and stared at me with open betrayal on his face, like I had just thrown him to the wolves. I didn't look at him, or try to give him some sort of eye signal, because I was completely winging it. My feelings for him were hopelessly muddled and I didn't want to see him hurt, but if it came down to him or me, he was an acceptable loss.

Corvin acknowledged Marcus with a curious, appraising look, one that lacked any familiarity or warmth. When he looked back at me, his face had relaxed a bit.

“He looks good.” The corner of his mouth twitched up in a smirk. “You've done well.”

“Where are – ”

“Jim and Shaina, they’re fine,” Corvin snapped, stepping out from around the counter. “They’re right there.”

Marcus whirled to look where Corvin pointed. I winced when I saw them, propped up against the exposed brick of the far wall. Back to back, they slumped lifelessly against each other, rope twisted around their waists and up to bind their necks. Jim’s face tilted away from me, but Shaina’s swollen eyes were closed, blood crusted around her nose. I couldn’t tell if they were breathing.

Marcus let out a low moan. He whirled to face Corvin.

Corvin didn’t look back; his eyes fixed on me. I couldn’t look away.

“I’m so happy to see you again,” Corvin told me.

“What?” I gaped at him.

He put up his hands, patting at the air. “You’re right, you’re right,” he said. “We should talk.”

“I don’t want to talk,” I said, pulling the gun up and jamming it into the ball of my shoulder. I felt Scott moving behind me, heard clothing rustle. The tiny clicking noise of a safety being fingered off sounded loud.

Corvin rolled his eyes. “You’re not going to shoot me,” he said, dripping disappointment. “Come on, Ebron, we need to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” I said.

He scowled, the left corner of his mouth pulling down. “Don’t be like that. I don’t remember you being so bitchy.”

Goose bumps rippled down my spine. “I don’t know you,” I said.

He stared at me incredulously. Morgan took half a step closer to him. He shot her a deadly look and she froze. Marcus’s shoulders heaved with his panicked breathing.

“You don’t remember,” Corvin stated flatly.

I eyed him warily, the pressure of the gun against my shoulder an anchoring weight. The incense steamed heavy from a bowl on the counter. I didn’t recognize the smell. The back of my throat felt coated with ash.

“You really don’t remember?” Corvin asked in a completely different voice. His eyebrows went slack, confusion fluttering over his face.

“I thought that maybe after seeing me again...” he stopped, staring at me hard. Then something unsteady settled back on his features, his mouth tightening back into a sneer.

“Fine,” he said. “I can work with that.”

“Ebron,” Marcus whispered. “We have to help them.”

Corvin’s eyes flicked between us. I didn’t like how his gaze lingered, the connections he was making.

“Don’t be an idiot, Marcus,” Corvin said. His eyes burned into mine. His smile got bigger, turned mocking.

“If you hurt them – “ Marcus trailed off. His lower lip trembled.

“Yeah, I did,” Corvin replied. “A little bit. But it was necessary.” He tilted his head, giving Marcus an appraising look. “Just like hurting you was necessary.”

“You killed me,” Marcus whispered. Corvin grinned.

“Morgan?” he called. “Get the rest of the supplies. We should get started.”

Morgan started forward. I trained the gun on her.

“Don’t move,” I snapped, and Corvin sighed.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said. “You’re invited.”

He turned his back on me, moving back around the counter. Morgan smirked at me. She followed after him, reaching for some of the jars on the higher shelves.

I made an annoyed noise in my throat, and she paused, glancing over her shoulder at me.

“Oh,” she said. Then, “Oops!” She flicked her fingers and two jars tumbled to the ground, shattering against the rough wooden floor. Herbs scattered amongst the shards of glass.

“Mature,” I snipped at her. She winked.

“Come on over,” Corvin said, glancing up. His eyes caught on Scott and Cameron. He frowned.

“Okay,” Corvin said. “Now I don’t want to be that guy, but this is sort of invite only so...” he clicked his tongue, all faux sympathy.

“It’s my store,” I pointed out stiffly.

Corvin bobbed his head in acknowledgement. “Fair enough. I suppose they can stay.”

I scoffed in indignation, and gestured with my rifle. Corvin reacted with a brighter smile, exchanging a quick glance with Morgan that enflamed me.

“You’re killing people,” I snarled at him.

He pointedly jabbed at the air with one curled finger. “Technically, that’s true. But you of all people should understand.”

“Why the fuck would I understand?” I snapped. My palms felt sweaty. The overhead furnace roared to life suddenly, making me jump. Marcus, Scott, and Cameron shifted around, uneasily settling their weight from side to side.

Corvin gave me a piteous look. “Just come and see. I’ll show you.”

I eyed him warily. Morgan moved quietly from the shelves, her arms laden with jars. With practiced efficiency, she began arranging herbs. She ground something I couldn’t identify, using a mortar and pestle with the price tag still stuck to it. Something bitter and dank filled my nostrils, like the smell of a flooded basement.