Night of the Living Demon Slayer (19 page)

Actually, she could.

"Come on," I whispered hotly, as I felt my bounds slacken.

"Where is Andre?" she asked, when she'd raised them all. Mamma whipped her head around, searching. The corpses around her twitched, their mismatched limbs making them gangly as they bobbed and swayed before her.

Pade's panic grew. He clutched his skull-tipped walking stick, as if he could use it as a weapon against them.

"I didn't bury Andre with the family," Pade hissed. "I buried him in his wife's family crypt in St. Louis Cemetery Number One." He shoved off a corpse that stumbled against him. "He's not my true brother."

"He's my son," she thundered.

"Your favorite," Pade hissed. "But he is dead and
I
brought you back to life."

She appeared absolutely feral now, and I saw before Osse did that he'd made a grave mistake. He backed away, toward the altar that held a motionless Carpenter.

She followed, stalking the bokor. "You would do anything for your mother?"

"Yes," he said, standing before the altar without a shred of hesitation or guile.

She placed a hand on his head, and one on his shoulder. "Then die," she said, breaking his neck.

The drums silenced. The crowd waited. I could hear wet breathing and a few soft sobs as Mamma Pade raised her head to the crowd. "Do not worry, my sweetlings." She let her son fall, ignoring the sick crack of his head on the floor. "This time, I'll raise him to obey me."

I felt the ropes on my wrists drop and seized Harry before he could escape. He bit down onto my knuckle but I held him tight. With shaky hands, I pocketed the savage beast. Then I took a switch star and sliced through the ropes that held Dimitri. My fingers felt weak from lack of blood. Frick. I couldn't throw like this.

Mamma held her bloody wrist over her son's dead body and let the crimson liquid drip down over him.

"Do it," Dimitri said low in his throat. He didn't move. Didn't betray the fact that he was free. "End her," he urged.

It wasn't so simple. I didn't want to screw this up. I placed my hands behind my back as if they were still bound, rolling and stretching them until the feeling returned. I had one shot at this. One.

I got that they were distracted, but I couldn't let that force my hand.
 

Osse Pade gasped, and sat up.

"There," she said, catching my eye.

Strength flooded back into my fingers. The nerves tingled with pain. They needed more time than Osse Pade to come back to life. But I couldn't wait. Not anymore.

She turned attention back on her son. He slowly stood before her, as if waking from a deep sleep. His eyes appeared dazed and he stared right through the crowd and me. Mamma Pade stroked his hair. "There's my boy. Now you'll serve your mamma. I won't have you bickering with me or with Andre."

He stood, his neck lolling from his shoulders, the bones unable to hold it up. "Yes, mother."

Now.
 

I drew a switch star and ran straight for Mamma. I drove it into her head as I reached into her neck with my other hand, ripping out the black soul. I flung it to the floor and crushed it under the heel of my boot, hoping to God that would kill it.
 

My switch star sliced straight through her skull, shattering bone and spraying brain matter. Osse Pade screamed. Mamma fell. And the dead turned toward me, snarling.
 

I couldn't kill them all. There were too many.

 
"This way!" Dimitri hollered, as we started running.

Chapter Nineteen

We burst down the side, past the startled church members, and skirted the edge of the lobby. Dimitri was stark naked, but we didn't care. Or maybe that was just me. At the last second, he grabbed a green and blue flag from the wall.

I kept a tight grip on him and we made a beeline past the guards and out the door.
 

The flag rippled behind him as we streaked across the street, taking refuge in the dark alley Aimee had shown us.

Thank heaven I still had that sneak spell in my bra.

We were hidden. For now.

Dimitri's breath came in harsh pants. "You think you killed her?" he asked, working the silk flag around his waist. Damn. The man could make anything look good.

I turned my attention back to the funeral parlor, shocked we hadn't been followed. Yet. I wiped my bloody hands on my pants. "I pulled out the black soul. I've killed immortal demons with switch stars. And the undead alligator back in the swamp." It had to work. I didn't know what I'd do otherwise. "You get the witches. I'll stick here and pick off anything that tries to pursue us." It's not like he had any weapons on him anymore. With any luck, her undead followers were busy falling apart in there without her. "I'll stick here and make sure we got her."

He gave a quick nod. "I'll take the back way out of the alley and shift once I have the space."

"Perfect." He could travel faster when he was in griffin form. And if I needed to move, he'd be able to locate me thanks to the emerald I wore. I used to hate that. Now, I was damned grateful.

He gave me a fast, hard kiss. "Be careful."

"Always," I said, squeezing his hand tight before he slipped away into the darkness.

I turned back to observe the funeral parlor. The shadows around the lights had grown darker. Sparks of white rippled out over the center courtyard in peaks before descending over the worshippers inside. Most likely spirits of the dead. I shuddered to think of the kind of souls who would be at the call of a dark voodoo priestess like Mamma Pade.

But, no. She had to be gone.
 

It had gotten late. Gas streetlights cast uneven light. Sparse groups of tourists wandered farther down the block. I prayed they wouldn't come this way, especially when I saw a black hearse pull up in front of the building. It was drawn by four black horses. Their eyes glowed milky white and I could see the rib bones on one, where the papery skin hadn't grown all the way back. They snorted and dipped their heads.

Fuck a duck. Maybe I hadn't killed Mamma after all.

Osse Pade emerged, surrounded by members of the church. They flooded past him into the street. His eyes blazed hot and his head dipped at an unnatural angle. He opened the lobby door wide and bowed to Mamma. She'd survived. I didn't know how.
 

Her skull showed the damage from my switch star. I'd cleaved it in two pieces, straight down the center. Now, she held it together with a crown of beads, shot with a jeweled plume of pink and yellow feathers.

The halves fit together unevenly, with one eye socket higher than the other, the nose hole jagged, one side of her jaw lolling down. Her skin fluttered on both sides of the gash, exposing white bone.

There, at her neck, her black soul pulsed under a layer of papery skin.

I'd done my best and it hadn't worked. I'd barely slowed her down.

How in Hades was I going to kill her now?

The carriage swayed as she entered, followed by her son. The man in the yellow tunic climbed into the driver's box along with two of the women in white.

One thing was for certain: I couldn't let them get away.

My necklace hummed, the emerald stone warming against my neck. The bronze chain went liquid, snaking down my body as I watched the undead shamble from the funeral parlor.

Their snarls filled the night. I held my breath and waited as the soft metal glided down my side, over my hip. It twisted down my leg and settled on my left ankle where it hardened right on my joint. Great. I tried to move my ankle and couldn't.

A group of tourists stopped down the block and started pointing at the corpses and the hearse, like it was some kind of show. Three girls rushed up to take pictures. The young blond woman out front giggled with her friends, snapping selfies while a hissing man with a pearl necklace and an old woman's body lurched straight for her, arms out, teeth bared.

"No!" I rushed from my hiding place to save her from the monster. I gave it a boot to the chest and it hit the ground as the carriage clopped past us.

Mamma Pade watched out the window, her bulging white eyes locked on me.

"What are you? Crazy?" The girl demanded, while her friends continued to snap photos on their phones.

Oh my word. My mind reeled. I'd not only been caught by Mamma, but this was the first time I'd ever beheld supernatural phenomena that was visible to non-magical individuals.

"These people are dangerous," I warned, slapping away a girl taking video of the monster and me. They weren't even people, but I wasn't about to explain that for YouTube. "Get out of here!"

A hand grasped my ankle and the creature I'd shoved had his mouth open. He bit me, his teeth slamming against the enchanted bronze. I jumped back and smashed his head onto the pavement.

That's when camera girls began to scream.

Bloody hell.

Pink brain matter oozed out from under my boot and I prayed to God that I'd killed the corpse.

"Stop it," I said, among the phone flashes.

Frick. Mamma was getting away. Her followers and the corpses trailed her down the street.

"Look," I dug into my utility belt and pulled out one of the Ziploc bags I'd packed for my original trip to this hellish place. Inside, living spells hovered, practically falling over themselves to escape. They refashioned themselves at will—flattening, lengthening, and twirling. "Here." I cursed under my breath at the top of the bag that would not open. I finally got it, my fingers closing around a shimmering corkscrew. I tossed it at camera girl. Hard. I launched two more at her friends. "Sick 'em," I ordered the gooey spells as they smacked the girls in the forehead.

Their expressions went blank.

Mind Wipers made you forget everything except what you most wanted to be. And they erased memory for a good five minutes before the event. I grabbed blondie's phone and started erasing the evidence.

The girl's anger disappeared and her face lit up. "I've always wanted to be a Kardashian!"

Lord almighty.

I handed her the phone back. By this time, my quarry was a good way down the block. I couldn't afford to loose them, but I had one more thing to do.
 

I drew a switch star and dashed back into the funeral parlor. The lobby stood empty. Hallelujah. I skirted the edges and entered the courtyard once more. Overturned tables littered the space, along with scattered pools of blood. Everyone had fled. Except for one poor soul.

Carpenter lay tied to the altar, struggling.

"Thank heaven you're still with us," I said, rushing toward him, using the blades of a switch star to cut him loose.

He winced, clutching his stomach, his muscles bunched and straining as he forced himself to sit. "Heaven has nothing to do with this."
 

"Hey, hey. Settle down." Truth be told, I was surprised he was still alive. The bleeding had stopped, but he looked terrible. "You need an ambulance."

"I've had worse." He waved me off. "And I heal faster than you." He struggled to his feet, chest heaving. "Right now, I need to figure out how he did it. How to stop her." The necromancer staggered toward Osse Pade's abandoned office. "Time is of the essence." He turned. "Why the hell are you still here?"

"I'm saving you," I insisted, feeling kind of dumb saying it.

He nodded, bracing a hand on the doorway to Osse Pade's office. "Go. Stop them as best you can. Hopefully, I can save
you
."

"Right." Mamma was getting away. I'd done what I could here. "Be safe," I said, as I headed out of the abandoned funeral parlor. I made it outside, past the Mind Wiped tourists and toward the hearse that was still visible way down the street.

If Carpenter could figure out how to kill Mamma, if I could stop them in the meantime…we might just have a chance.

It was better than the alternative.

I took off after the undead funeral procession, walking funny with the bronze boot around my ankle. It was a relief when the enchanted metal went liquid again. Maybe it would turn back into a necklace. Maybe that would be the last attack on me for a while.

But as Grandma always said, if wishes were fishes, we'd all eat well tonight.

The liquid metal snaked up to my abdomen. It surrounded my middle, squeezing as it hardened. I pressed forward, fighting for breath, as I struggled to catch up to the hearse, the church members, and the dead who took up the rear.

I probably should have hid the body of the corpse I'd killed back there, but I didn't have time. Hopefully Dimitri would get it. Or Aimee. At least it was dead. As for the rest of them? They weren't attacking. That was a good thing.

I finally made it to the back of the procession.

One step at a time.
My job was to figure out where they were going and why. I took refuge behind the crowd of the undead, lingering behind a straggler, a rotting woman with a twisted spine and half of her dress falling off. One hand hung limp while the other clawed toward the carriage winding its way up Royal Street.

We were moving toward the more crowded area of the French Quarter. We saw more cars, more people snapping pictures. They stood on the sidewalks and crossed the street behind me as the dead walked among them. What did they think this was? A parade?

Only in New Orleans.

I kept my head down and my feet moving. The one way I could figure that normal people could even see this when they couldn't see griffins, or dragons, or hear talking dogs, was the fact that these corpses staggering up Royal were real people—just very, very dead.

And quite possibly blood thirsty.

I'd come close to losing a chunk of my ankle back there and didn't even want to think about what would come of a bite. And I refused to even speak out loud what was now running through my mind—zombies.

We turned right on St. Peter and lost the crowd of onlookers as we passed next to the darkened park beyond.

Osse Pade still had the bug on him. The witches would be able to track him. And until backup arrived, it was up to me to keep control of this situation. Somehow. Only I had no idea what Mamma's end game could be, until I realized we were headed to St. Louis Cemetery Number One.