Give the Devil His Due (The Sanheim Chronicles, Book Three) (18 page)

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Authors: Rob Blackwell

Tags: #The Sanheim Chronicles: Book Three, #Sleepy Hollow, #Headless Horseman, #Samhain, #Sanheim, #urban fantasy series, #supernatural thriller

BOOK: Give the Devil His Due (The Sanheim Chronicles, Book Three)
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“I love you, but I can’t keep living with you in my head,” Kate told him, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Pretending I was you, letting myself believe you were really here, was just a way to pretend you hadn’t died. I have to let you go.”

Quinn walked toward her. Despite what she was about to do, he looked happier than she had seen him during the past year.

“I know, Kate,” he said. “I’ve been hoping for this moment. Whatever happens — whether you succeed or not — I’ll always be with you. But just not constantly chattering in your ear. Can I offer one piece of advice before I go?”

“Sure,” she said, still sobbing.

“Don’t get rid of the big guy,” Quinn said, jerking a thumb toward the Headless Horseman. “You may need him. But that doesn’t mean he’s here to give you advice. He’s a tool, to be used or not used.”

As if on cue, the Headless Horseman strode forward and knelt in the dirt.

“I serve the last,” he said. As it always did, his voice seemed to come from within and beyond him.

Kate looked at the banshee. But unlike watching Kyle or Quinn, the image before her didn’t move of its own accord. As she stood on the battlefield, she realized that the banshee was nothing more than a reflection of her. When she moved, it moved. When she nodded, it nodded.

“She is you,” Quinn said. “She doesn’t have a will of her own.”

A bright light seemed to blind her and Kate was startled to find it was the sun rising. She looked over the battlefield. It would always be a place of sadness — it had been for more than a century — but she didn’t have to be trapped here any longer, like those restless spirits she was supposed to set free.

“Nice timing for an epiphany,” Quinn said, his tone joking. “A new day dawning and all that. A bit much, though, don’t you think?”

“What can I say?” Kate responded. “I’m a writer.”

Kate wanted to hug him, but she knew that was impossible. She might even feel it, but it wouldn’t be real, like the cuts on her arms and face that had disappeared once Kyle died.

“Save it,” Quinn said, reading her mind. “For when you find the real me.”

Instead, Kate raised her hand in a farewell gesture.

“Goodbye, my love,” she said. “Thank you for helping me.”

Quinn smiled, waved his hand in return, and faded away. Kate was tempted to call him back, say it had all been a mistake, but she didn’t. She watched as Quinn disappeared.

She opened her eyes and found herself still sitting on the battlefield. In the real world, she had never moved. But she was finally alone. The banshee and Horseman were within her, but just as different forms of Kate herself. Her mind had only a single voice in it now. Kate stared at the place in front of her where Quinn had died. She was sad, angry, and hopeful all at once.

Time to find you, Quinn
, she thought.
Time to bring you home.

She understood without thinking what must be done. As the sun rose in the east, she closed her eyes and began to call out with all her psychic energy. Last year, as she faced Sawyer and Elyssa, it had been a desperate call to arms to those who had given their lives to defend their homes. This time, it was a call for the lost and weary souls of the world — like Kate herself had been only a few minutes before.

Come to me
, she called out.
Come to me and be free.

And through the early morning fog across the battlefield, the spirits responded.

Chapter 15

 

 

Lord Halloween stood grinning down at Quinn and Elyssa from atop the makeshift platform, still holding Janus at the edge. He was flanked by two other scarecrows who stood motionless behind him.

“What do you think of my congregation, Quinn?” Lord Halloween asked. “When I first came here, many were weak, wondering what they had done to deserve their fate. But I gave them purpose. I culled the unworthy and challenged them to worship a new god. Me.”

The scarecrows shouted again, the torchlight casting strange shadows from their pumpkin heads.

“Isn’t it ironic?” Lord Halloween continued. “When I watched you become that... thing, I didn’t understand what true power was. But you had to become a demon to kill me, when I was just a man. Now I’m a demon, about to kill you, while you’re just a man. The tables are turned. The universe is once again in balance.”

“Some demon,” Quinn snorted. “Did you tell your followers that you’re just a lackey? Sanheim set you up to take me out. And when I’m dead...”

“I'll continue to rule,” Lord Halloween replied. “I know a con man when I see one, Quinn. Don’t you worry about me when you’re finally sent packing to oblivion. Worry what I’m going to do to Kate when she gets here. And she will get here. The boss has a very nice surprise coming her way.”

The torches illuminated the hate in Quinn’s eyes.

“I won’t let you touch her,” he said.

“How are you going to stop me, hmm?” Lord Halloween asked.

Quinn looked around the circle of enemies for anything he could use. His eyes seized on the torches. Perhaps he could grab one and throw it onto the tower.

“Save the heroics,” Lord Halloween said. “You’ll never have time to get that torch. Even if you could, would you be willing to kill Janus here? Poor Janus. I get to murder him not once, but twice.”

“Could you just do it and shut up already?” Janus asked. “I was tired of you before we died. All you ever did was prattle on about wrestling, fires and how you should set your watch ahead three minutes. Seriously, do you ever get tired of hearing yourself fucking talk?”

Lord Halloween’s head swiveled in Janus’ direction. He put his face close to Janus.

“Careful, Janus,” Lord Halloween said, “or I’ll rethink the relatively quick death I have planned for you and eat you alive, limb by limb.”

Quinn saw his moment. With Lord Halloween focused on Janus and his followers watching events unfold up above, Quinn rushed to the nearest scarecrow and grabbed the torch right out of his hand. The scarecrow was so absorbed in watching his leader, he never even knew what hit him. Quinn plunged the torch right into his chest, and the flannel and straw immediately went up in flames.

While the other followers were still stunned, Quinn turned and tossed the torch to Elyssa, who caught it in mid-air and immediately went on the attack. Quinn rushed the next scarecrow and wrenched the torch out of his hand as well.

The two plunged into the mass of scarecrows, throwing punches and lighting several on fire. Quinn tried to fight his way through to the platform.

“Freeze!” Lord Halloween yelled. “One more move, O’Brion, and Janus will be a spot on the ground.”

Quinn looked up to see Lord Halloween holding Janus off the platform. Quinn didn't think the fall would be far enough to make him a “spot,” but he was reasonably sure it would kill him.

Quinn stopped fighting.

“Tell your girlfriend to call it off too,” the pumpkin said.

“Elyssa,” Quinn said.

She stared at him in horror.

“This may be our best chance,” she said.

In response, Lord Halloween dangled Janus further off the platform.

“Not for him,” he responded.

Elyssa looked unhappy, but she stopped fighting.

“Drop the torches,” Lord Halloween said.

Both Quinn and Elyssa dropped them on the ground, where they sputtered briefly before going out.

“Grab them,” Lord Halloween called to his followers, a few of whom quickly surrounded Quinn and Elyssa.

Satisfied they were captured, Lord Halloween placed Janus back on the platform and pushed him backwards to the two scarecrows standing at attention behind him.

“Make sure he doesn’t move,” Lord Halloween told them. “I’ll save him for later.”

The two scarecrows stepped up to hold Janus. He struggled for a minute, but with his hands behind his back, there was little he could do. Quinn did spot something strange, however. Just as Lord Halloween turned his full attention back to his prisoners on the ground, Quinn saw one of the scarecrows on the platform give him a wink.

“Ready your weapons!” Lord Halloween ordered his crew on the ground.

Two scarecrows behind Quinn and Elyssa drew their knives.

“If it takes you a few times to hack off their heads, don’t feel badly,” Lord Halloween said. “In fact, I will personally reward the executioner who makes it the most painful.”

Quinn kept his expression carefully neutral as he saw activity behind Lord Halloween. He didn’t want to tip anyone off.

“You may have killed me once,” Lord Halloween said, “but ultimately, the game was mine.”

Quinn started smiling, and his expression clearly caught Lord Halloween off guard.

“Oh yeah?” Quinn said. “Is that part of your game?”

Quinn looked meaningfully behind Lord Halloween, who whipped his head around — but it was too late.

“You know what my favorite part of Halloween was?” Janus said as he appeared just behind him. “Pumpkin smashing.”

Janus gave Lord Halloween a hard shove. The giant pumpkin tried to keep his balance, his hands flailing in their attempt to grab on to something. But he caught only air and fell off the scaffolding, screaming as he plummeted to the ground.

A dozen scarecrows jumped out of the way as their leader collided with the dirt, his head exploding in a mass of pumpkin mush, seeds and blood. His body twitched for a few seconds more, flailing, before it lay still.

There was no question of their master’s fate. Lord Halloween was dead.

 

 

*****

 

Janus started dancing on top of the tower.

“That’s for killing me, you pompous git!” he shouted at the headless corpse of Lord Halloween. “Welcome to the jungle, asshole!”

Quinn burst out laughing, relief flooding his body.

The scarecrows around him, meanwhile, clearly had no idea what to do. Two were still standing behind Quinn and Elyssa, ready to cut off their heads, but they made no move to follow through.

Quinn jumped up before they could change their minds and Elyssa quickly stood up.

Quinn watched as one of Janus’ supposed bodyguards walked to the edge of the platform. When he looked at Quinn, he winked again. Quinn nodded his head in acknowledgment. Whoever that was, Quinn owed him a great debt. He had obviously untied Janus’ hands and allowed him to sneak up on Kyle.

“Friends,” the scarecrow called. “Lord Halloween is dead. Are we to take vengeance on his murderer?”

There were a few cries, but nothing overwhelming. Quinn had the distinct impression there was no love lost for their fallen leader.

“Or should we thank them for setting us free?”

There were many more shouts now. The scarecrow nodded as if this was what he expected. He gestured to Janus and his fellow scarecrow on top of the platform and they began climbing down the narrow staircase.

Quinn and Elyssa watched as they came down.

The apparent lead scarecrow emerged again after a few minutes and walked solemnly toward Quinn. When he reached him, he leaned in and whispered, “Just go with it, okay? We’ll talk later.”

With that, he pulled away and stepped into the center of the circle.

“Brothers and sisters,” the scarecrow said. “Our master has fallen.”

Many of the scarecrows still seemed stunned at this news. A few were prodding Lord Halloween’s corpse with sticks, as if any minute he might jump up again.

“We need a new leader,” the scarecrow said. “One who can show us a new destiny.”

“You!” a scarecrow shouted, a cry that was taken up by a few others. They seemed so desperate for guidance, Quinn wondered if they would embrace anyone with half a plan. If Lord Halloween had abused them, who knew what state their minds were in.

“No,” the scarecrow said. “I am content to act as a messenger. We need someone strong, someone who understands fear, the religion our master taught us. Someone who has mastered it.”

A cry went up around the assembled throng. Quinn looked at the scarecrow. He knew where this was going. He wanted to tell him to stop, but didn’t. Truthfully, he needed all the assistance he could get. This was an unexpected gift.

And this scarecrow himself seemed familiar to him. It obviously wasn’t in looks — they all looked the same to Quinn. It was his mannerisms. Quinn realized he knew him from somewhere.

“This is such a man,” the scarecrow shouted, pointing at Quinn. “You all have heard of Lord Sanheim. This is the Prince. He faced his fear on Halloween and became it! Twice, he has killed the one who called himself Lord Halloween.”

“Technically I did it the second time,” Janus said, but the scarecrow ignored him.

“He has killed our oppressor and for that we should be grateful. Who says we should follow him? Who says we will go where he leads?”

“I do!” a second scarecrow spoke up with a woman's voice. It was the one who had been on the platform with Janus. Whatever conspiracy was going on, she was clearly in on it.

But the other scarecrows didn’t seem to notice. Instead, one by one, they shouted “I do” until all had agreed.

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