Poison Fruit (25 page)

“Nice surprise,” I murmured to him.

Sinclair gave a modest shrug. “After the Night Hag attacks, I figured we could use a little happy magic. We’re lucky they cooperated.”

I glanced around at the crowd, the upturned faces filled with wonder. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

The frost fairies’ visit didn’t last long, only a few minutes, but Sinclair was right—it was enough to make the night magical. At an unspoken signal, they vanished all at once, spiraling back upward into the clouds and darkness. Even though I knew what temperamental little bitches they were, my heart ached at the absence of their beauty.

A voice arose to fill the void with the opening lines of “O Holy Night”—a mortal, human voice, tremulous at first, but gaining confidence and settling into a soaring soprano.

It was the youngest of the carolers, a tall, awkward girl still in her teens, the too-short sleeves of her costume baring knobby wrists as she clasped her hands before her and sang, her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

I wanted to cry, or hug her. Maybe both.

It was a song of redemption and hope, and humility, too, something
I’d never been good at. But that night, I felt it. I gazed at the shining tree:
El Arbol
, my roots. All that I loved. A star shone atop it.

Hope.

I whispered the word to myself. “
Hope
.”

All too soon, it was over, the last notes fading. The young woman
singing blinked her eyes open, looking surprised at herself. Friends and strangers alike laughed self-consciously and hugged one another. Gus the ogre wiped away a surreptitious tear as the crowd began to disperse.

“Did you get footage of it?” Sinclair asked Stacey as she came over to join us, camera in hand.

Her face was still touched with wonder. It made her look younger, or like a softer version of her younger self. “Yeah, I did. That was pretty spectacular.”

“And it’s a safer bet than those ghostbusting videos you were posting earlier,” I observed.

Stacey’s expression hardened. “I was just doing my job.”

Oops, that was on me. It was hard to lose the habit of a lifetime. I raised my hands. “I know, I know.”

Sinclair cleared his throat. “So . . . anyone up for joining us for a drink at the Shoals?”

As much as I wanted to hold on to this feeling of transcendent humanity, I really didn’t want to sit around in a bar trying to remember to be polite to Stacey Brooks while she fawned over my ex-boyfriend.

“No thanks,” Jen said firmly, hooking her arm through mine. “We’re going to hang out here for a while and watch the snow fall. Right, Daise?”

“Right.” I snuck a guilty glance in Lee’s direction. “Okay by you?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

After saying good night to my mom and Lurine and Gus as they made their way back to Lurine’s Town Car, where her driver was patiently waiting, the three of us crossed the street to the playground across from the park, sitting on the swings and passing our thermoses of schnapps-laced cocoa back and forth, kicking our feet idly against the well-worn grooves in the gravel. The big spruce continued to blaze with Christmas lights. Slowly and steadily, big flakes of snow
continued to fall, sparkling in the glow of the streetlights and accumulating on the frozen ground.

“We could make snow angels,” Jen said in a speculative tone.

“We could,” I agreed. “Or not.”

“Do you think there really
are
angels?” Lee asked unexpectedly, taking a swig from Jen’s thermos. “Thrones and powers and dominions and whatnot? The whole Judeo-Christian pantheon?”

Both of them looked at me.

I looked up. Snow fell from the night sky, dizzying from my narrow perspective. Or maybe it was the schnapps. “I guess there must be.”

“Why?” Lee’s voice held simple curiosity.

“Because I know my father is real,” I murmured, taking a sip of cocoa. “Belphegor. So it only makes sense that his opposite must exist.”

“You’ve
met
him?” Lee asked me.

I shook my head. “Not exactly. But we’ve . . . spoken. I know he exists. I know how to invoke him.”

“Daise,” Jen said quietly.

“It’s okay.” I wrapped my gloved hands around the thick chains of the swing, pushing off against the snow-covered gravel with my feet. “I wouldn’t. You know I wouldn’t.” Once again, I set the memory of my nightmare aside, holding fast to the light. “It’s just that . . . yes. I think there are all kinds of things that exist on the far side of the Inviolate Wall, angels and demons included.”

“What about God?” Lee asked.

“Whose God?” I said. “Catholics? Lutherans? Baptists? Calvinists? What about the other apex faiths like Judaism and Islam and Buddhism and Hinduism?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Neither do I.” Leaning backward, I pumped my legs, making the swing soar higher. “I mean, they can’t
all
be right, can they?”

“Why not?” Jen asked reasonably. “There are different gods here on earth, aren’t there?”

“Just the chthonic ones,” Lee said. I raised my eyebrows at him in passing. “The ones with ties to the underworld,” he clarified. “Those are the ones that have endured, right?”

I stilled my swing. “Yeah, but they’re . . . diminished. Their demesnes are limited. They’re not even doing battle with each other, let alone seeking dominion over the entire earth.” At least I hoped not. I was still uneasy about that whole Hades business. “I don’t think you can say the same thing for whatever God or gods are on the other side of the wall. So who’s right?”

“Maybe it’s like the many-worlds theory,” Lee offered. Jen and I gave him blank looks. “In quantum mechanics. It postulates a reality in which every possible quantum outcome is realized. So in theory, there could be an infinite universe containing an infinite number of worlds in which every possible version of God exists.”

Jen held out her hand for a thermos. “This conversation would be a lot better if we were stoned.”

I was still trying to wrap my head around it. “Yeah, but what about
this
world, Lee?”

He shrugged. “Maybe the Inviolate Wall functions sort of like the box in Schrödinger’s cat.”

Okay, thanks to
The Big Bang Theory
—the TV show, not the actual scientific theory—at least I’d heard of that one, although I didn’t entirely understand it. “That’s the thing where there’s a cat in a box and you don’t know if it’s alive or dead?”

“Sort of,” Lee said. “Schrödinger conceived it as a thought experiment to illustrate the nature of quantum entanglement, which is a characteristic—” Noting our expressions, he caught himself. “Never mind. The point is that based on an unpredictable variable, the cat has either been poisoned or not. Until an observer opens the box to see if the cat is dead or alive, it exists simultaneously in both states.”

“I bet the cat would beg to disagree,” Jen observed.

“It’s a thought experiment,” Lee said patiently. “It’s not an actual cat. It’s meant to illustrate a theory.”

She smiled at him. “I know. I’m just yanking your chain.”

I gazed up at the night sky again, the snowflakes like stars drifting earthward. “So you’re saying that there are infinite possibilities beyond the Inviolate Wall, but once it’s broken, they collapse into one reality?”

“At least in this world.” Lee shrugged again. “It’s a theory.”

I shivered, feeling the shadow of my nightmare returning to hover over me. Beneath my down coat, my tail gave a nervous twitch. “Let’s not talk about this anymore.”

Jen tilted her thermos to shake the last drops of cocoa into her mouth before hopping out of her swing. “C’mon,” she said in a pragmatic tone. “All this stoner talk is making me hungry. Let’s go get burgers at Bob’s.”

“It’s not stoner talk,” Lee protested. “It’s—” He paused. “You’re yanking my chain again, aren’t you?”

She gave him another sidelong smile. “Maybe.”

I didn’t want to be alone right now, but I didn’t want to intrude, either. “You guys go ahead. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Jen stuck out one hand, waiting for me to take it. “You’re in a weird mood, and that means you’re not going home alone to put one of those old Billie freaking Holiday CDs on the stereo and mope around your apartment with your freakishly large cat. You’re going to Bob’s with me and Lee for a pitcher of beer and a nice, juicy burger, because we’re your friends and we look out for each other. Okay?”

El Arbol
, my roots.

“Okay.” I grabbed Jen’s hand and let her haul me out of the swing. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Twenty-five

T
hat was the plan, anyway. Beer and a burger at Bob’s Bar & Grill. We only got a few yards before a figure detached itself from the shadow of an oak tree and leaped to the top of the jungle gym in one inhuman bound, balancing in a crouch.

All three of us let out startled yelps. I kindled a shield without thinking, dropped my thermos, and yanked open my messenger bag, reaching for
dauda-dagr
in its hidden sheath. Or at least I tried to get a grip on it. Okay, so thick winter gloves, not such a good idea. Atop the jungle gym, the crouching figure grinned, revealing sharp fangs in a luminously pale face framed with glossy black hair.

Jen folded her arms over her chest. “Thanks, Beth. You nearly scared us half to death. What are you doing here?”

“Keeping an eye on my family, just like I promised.” With another spectacular leap, Bethany Cassopolis descended from the jungle gym, the skirts of her Victorian frock coat flaring. “I remember you,” she said to Lee. “You’re the creep who tried to kill me with artificial sunlight.”

“Do you mean the guy who kept you from choking Dad to death?” Jen asked. “Because that’s the way I remember it.”

“Whatever.” Bethany grabbed the lapels of Lee’s camel-hair coat—one of the purchases Jen had talked him into during their fashion makeover shopping spree—in one hand. Despite the fact that he had a good eight inches on her, she hoisted him effortlessly off the ground. At least Lee was tall enough that his toes still touched. “So are you dating my sister or what?”

“I don’t know,” Lee said in strangled voice. “Ask her!”

“Jen?” Bethany glanced at her.

She kept her arms folded. “None of your business.”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Using my teeth, I stripped the glove off my right hand and got my fingers wrapped around
dauda-dagr
’s
hilt. “Bethany, Jen, chill out. Let’s not go through this all over again.”

With a snarl, Bethany tossed Lee several yards through the air. He landed on his back in the new-fallen snow, the air leaving his lungs in a
woof
ing sound as she whirled on me. “
You
stay out of this! This is family business.”

It’s hard to pull off menacing in a coat that makes you look like you’re wrapped in a sleeping bag, but I did my best, keeping a shield kindled between us and
dauda-dagr
held low and ready. “Actually, if you’re threatening mortals without cause, it’s
my
business,” I said evenly, holding up my left hand palm outward. “Agent of Hel here, remember?”

“Um, yeah, you might want to take the glove off, Special Agent Johanssen,” Bethany said. Oops. “And who says I don’t have cause?”

“I do, you freak!” Jen retorted, kneeling beside Lee in the snow. “I wanted you to make sure Brandon was okay, not get all up in
my
business!”

Bethany cocked her head. “Um, I didn’t hear you complaining when I took a bullet for you at the Halloween parade.”

Jen shrugged. “Yeah, well, there’s a big difference between saving me from a bona fide gun-wielding psycho and threatening my date.”

“Does this mean we
are
dating?” Lee wheezed.

“Yeah, I guess it does,” Jen said with reluctant affection. “I’d say being threatened by my sister makes it official.”

“Oh, I haven’t even begun to threaten,” Bethany said. “Listen, Lee. If you even
think
of hurting my sister—”

“Hey!” I waved
dauda-dagr
in the air. “A little respect, here? Magic dagger? Capable of killing the immortal undead?”

Bethany shot me a dismissive look. “Oh, please. You wouldn’t use that thing on your best friend’s sister.”

“Don’t tempt me.” I tightened my grip on the hilt. “I’m still curious
about what would happen if I just injured someone with it, and I’m still betting on eternal never-healing wound. Shall we find out?”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” There was a shift in the tension between us as Bethany attempted to put a vampire whammy on me. Her tongue flicked out between her fangs to lick her lips, eyes gleaming.

Feeling the tug of her allure, I poured more energy into my shield, letting it blaze. “Nice try.” Fledgling vampires have the full measure of preternatural speed and strength, but vampiric hypnosis takes years to master. I beckoned with
dauda-dagr
. “C’mon, what do you say? Just a scratch?”

With a catlike hiss, Bethany vaulted back atop the jungle gym in a swirl of frock coat. “You’d have to catch me first!”

Another figure emerged from the shadows of the oak. “I’d be willing to take that challenge,” Cody Fairfax said in a silken growl. “And I suggest you don’t try me.” He put his hands on his duty belt and tilted his head to look up at her, phosphorescent green flashing behind his eyes. “I think you’ve had enough fun here tonight, Miss Cassopolis.”

Oh, great.

“What are you doing here?” I asked Cody.

“Working,” he said. “Trailing a suspicious vampire lurking in the playground. Are you okay, Mr. Hastings?”

Lee was back on his feet, brushing snow off his nice new camel-hair coat. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Do you want to file a complaint?” Cody asked him. “I’d be happy to take your statement.”

“Uh, no.” He shot a nervous glance Bethany’s way. “I’ll pass.”

That was probably a good thing, since the Pemkowet Police Department didn’t really have the resources or the desire to take on the House of Shadows. It wasn’t a confrontation that would end well for anyone, which is why Lady Eris, mistress of our local vampire brood, generally kept her people on the right side of the law.