After she stepped into the sanctum, Eidolon locked the door behind her. The interior consisted of one large room, complete with mounds of newspaper clipping, bookshelves filled to overflowing with criminology texts and a small bed, beside which was a nightstand adorned by an alarm clock, a Sun Koh pulp novel in German and an empty whiskey bottle.

  “You live here?” she asked.

  “For now. It’s one of several dozen safe houses that The Darkling has. I wasn’t with him for very long before everything fell apart and he vanished along with you but he gave me a list of places I could hide if I needed to. Believe me, I’ve made use of them, too.”

  Abby and Jakob stood facing each other for a moment before the German rushed forward and embraced her. He felt how stiff she was and the cold brush of her skin but it didn’t matter.

  “I am sorry,” he whispered and she felt his tears drip into her hair.

  She pulled away, looking at him with a small spark of life in her eyes. “Why?”

  “We joined Assistance Unlimited together… and both of us fell from grace at the same time. I should have been there for you. I should have found you after you disappeared. I should have… done more.”

  “That’s silly. You weren’t even there when The Darkling and I vanished. You had no idea where we were.”

  Jakob wiped away his tears with the back of his hand. “You can’t expect facts to get in the way of guilt,” he said with a smile.

  “You shouldn’t have rescued me,” she said. “Doctor Satan will be angry. And it’s pointless. I’m dead.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Yes, I am.” She held up a wrist. “Feel my pulse. It’s barely there. My body temperature is dangerously low. And I feel like there’s a sheathe around my heart. Nothing feels real anymore.”

  “I’ve seen the undead… and so have you. You’re not one of them.” Jakob reached out and took her arms into his hands. “All of this that you’re describing… it’s because of something that Doctor Satan did to you. I don’t know for sure if it’s magic or drugs but he’s slowing down your heart rate and making you believe that you died. It’s all a lie!”

  “How do you know that?” she asked and he thought he detected a note of hope in her voice.

  “I just do. All you need is time away from him so that your mind and body can be cleansed.” He lowered his voice. “And I’m willing to bet that your passions can be inflamed.”

  Jakob brought his lips quickly to hers and the awkward clench slowly became more intense. For the first time since her rebirth, a flush of warmth washed through all of Abby’s limbs and her mouth became a hungry organ, working madly against his.

  When they finally separated, she was breathing rapidly and Jakob was smiling. “Do you see?” he asked.

  “Yes, I see,” she responded. “Now kiss me again.”

  ***

  Assistance Unlimited and their unwanted ally, The Darkling, were gathered in the meeting room. The tension remained as an undercurrent but now that Lazarus had put his foot down, no one on Assistance Unlimited would challenge him. They had gone to war with him too many times to doubt his wisdom, no matter how wrong his decisions might feel to them.

  Lazarus leaned forward, tapping a finger onto a map of The Lovecraft Hotel. “According to my sources, Scratch has rented the entire building for the rest of the week. That says to me that he’s not planning to leave town, despite having gotten The Devil’s Eyepiece. We need to move quickly, though, and verify that.”

  A sudden buzzing interrupted the planning session. The Darkling watched as Eun sprang to his feet and ran from the room.

  “Something I need to know about?” the vigilante asked. He wore his mask and adventuring garb, which was the least of the things that seemed different about him. As Harold Grant, he was a dashing and somewhat approachable figure – but as The Darkling, he exuded danger and his voice was much deeper.

  Samantha glanced at him and suppressed a shiver. “Lazarus has a sophisticated monitoring system set up – if an alert goes out on either the police or fire department radio bands, we know about it.”

  “Impressive.”

  Eun quickly returned, slightly out of breath. “Huge fire was reported over at the Lovecraft but they’re saying it’s completely under control. Multiple corpses were found in the room 317.”

  “That was Scratch’s,” The Darkling murmured.

  Ignoring the interruption, Eun said, “We also just got a call from John McBurney – he says that the mayor needs to see you immediately. He says it’s a major emergency.”

  McBurney was the personal aide to Mayor Rainsford Byles, one of the few good men in the Sovereign political machine. Byles offered assistance to the city’s defenders when he could, sometimes at great personal risk to himself.

  “Tell him we’re on our way,” Lazarus said. Turning to The Darkling, he added, “Would you mind going with Morgan to check out the scene at the Lovecraft? There may be something useful that they left behind – some clue as to what their next plans may be. I’m also curious if Doctor Satan set this fire to hide his tracks or if something else occurred.”

  ***

  The Darkling nodded, moving quickly to the door. He brushed past Eun without a word, forcing Morgan to hurry to keep up. “We’ll take my car,” he said, hurriedly taking the stairs toward the street.

  “Fine,” Morgan said, “But when we’re there, let me handle things. The authorities know me.”

  “You’re free to do what you wish. I’ll focus my investigations in my own way.” The Darkling glanced at Morgan, his eyes narrowing. “Let’s agree not to get in each other’s way.”

  Morgan frowned but murmured an agreement. Truth be told, he didn’t want The Darkling spooking the local cops or firefighters. Even the guys who weren’t on the take were jumpy about the cloak and mask crowd – and The Darkling’s creepy act would only make that worse.

  “Whatever you say, boss,” Morgan replied.

  ***

  Lazarus, Eun and Samantha were led into the mayor’s office, where they found Sovereign’s highest elected official puffing away on a cigar and staring out the window, a pensive expression on his face. He seemed to relax slightly as he turned to face them, shaking hands with both Lazarus and Eun before giving Samantha a fatherly hug.

  His narrow gray eyes refused to give any indication as to what was troubling him but his body language suggested that he was more tense than usual. A former professional polo player who had retired just a few years before his switch to politics, Rainsford Byles had a nervous habit of tensing his broad shoulders, which he was doing now.

  After everyone had taken their seats and the mayor’s secretary had closed the door, Lazarus asked, “What’s the nature of the emergency, Mr. Mayor?”

  “Call me Rainsford,” Byles said with a tired grin. They went through this little song and dance every time they got together. Turning to Samantha, he said, “I saw your father the other day. He said you should call him more often.”

  “If I called him every hour, it still wouldn’t be enough,” Samantha said, placing her hands over her crossed knees.

  “Fathers and their daughters,” Byles said with a shrug.

  Lazarus spoke up in a businesslike fashion. “Your call mentioned an emergency, Mr. Mayor?”

  “Yes, you’re right – we have more pressing business.” Byles picked up his cigar and tapped it against the ashtray. “I received a package shortly before I called you.” He gestured to a nearby table, upon which was sitting a partially unwrapped parcel.

  Lazarus stood up and approached the box, peering inside. His normally impassive face twisted at the awful sight that lay within – it was a pigeon, one that had been horribly crushed by some powerful grip. Lying beside it was a handwritten note that read:

  LAZARUS: YOUR AGENT MAY HAVE STOLEN MY PRETTY LITTLE BIRD BUT SHE’LL NEVER FLY FREE. BRING HER TO ERNST HILL AT MIDNIGHT TONIGHT OR THE MAYOR DIES.

  The reference to Ernst Hill caught everyone’s attention. One of the highest points in the city, it overlooked the Sovereign Cemetery and was most notorious for having been the site of a terrible gang rape several decades past. The crime had been so terrible that the details were still whispered of as warnings to young women. Though not everyone knew the final horror: that the teenage girl had been impregnated and had carried the baby to term. Upon seeing its face, however, she went mad, claiming that in its eyes were the eyes of her attackers. Shortly thereafter, she’d committed suicide and the baby had been placed into foster care.

  “Strange,” Lazarus murmured.

  “You can say that again,” the mayor answered. He took a last drag on his cigar before stamping it out. “Who sent it? Why send it to me if it was a message for you? And who’s this ‘pretty little bird’ they’re talking about?”

  Lazarus passed the note to Samantha, who read it quickly before handing it to Eun. “It was sent by a man who calls himself Doctor Satan.”

  The mayor’s eyes opened wide. “Good lord! I’ve heard of that lunatic! They say he poisoned the water supply in El Paso last fall – killed nearly thirty people, some of them children!”

  Lazarus nodded, adding, “He sent the note here because he wants you to know about the threat. He enjoys causing fear and he thinks this is a good way to do that.”

  “Well, he’s crazy if he thinks I’m going to be paralyzed with terror!” Byles stood up and adjusted his tie. “We’ll have every officer in the city surrounding Ernst Hill – if the jackal shows his face, we’ll throw him behind bars before he knows what’s happening!”

  “I wouldn’t recommend that,’ Lazarus said. “This man and his allies have abilities that your men couldn’t deal with. They’d just be victims waiting to happen. My people will handle him.”

  “And what do you want me to do? Just sit at home and twiddle my thumbs?” The expression on the mayor’s face made it clear that he hated to be shoved to the sidelines.

  Lazarus looked over at Eun. “I’ll leave someone with you to protect you, though you’re welcome to have your officers there, as well.”

  Eun rose quickly from his chair. “Chief! Don’t do this! I want to be there when we take Satan down!”

  “Someone needs to stay with the mayor,” Lazarus countered. “No matter who I task with that duty, they’re going to be disappointed.”

  “But I’m a fighter! You need me for this.”

  “We’re all fighters,” Samantha pointed out.

  “That’s easy for you to say – you’re getting to go!”

  Lazarus held up a hand and both of his friends fell silent. “For all we know, this is a feint. We send the majority of our forces to Ernst Hill and then Doctor Satan arrives to grab the mayor. I have a feeling that you’re not going to miss out on any action.”

  Eun sighed but said nothing in reply. He could tell from the look on Samantha’s face that she wasn’t going to say a word to help his case, especially if it meant that she might be put on guard duty instead.

  Turning back to the mayor, Lazarus said, “I want you to remain here this evening. City Hall is far more defensible than your house would be – plus, we don’t want to put your family at risk. We’ll make it very clear to the papers that you’re working all night on some important piece of legislation. It will reinforce the image they have of you as a hard worker.”

  Byles grunted. “I am a hard worker.”

  “Then you’ll get a lot done this evening.”

  “You still haven’t told me who the pretty little bird is,” Byles reminded him. “Does this have to do with the attractive brunette who worked with you for a little while?”

  “Abigail Cross,” Lazarus said. “And, yes, it has everything to do with her.”

  ***

  Fifteen minutes later, Lazarus Gray was seated behind the wheel of his car, Samantha at his side. They were headed back to Robeson Avenue, where they would rendezvous with The Darkling and Morgan when they were finished at the hotel. Eun, still fuming, had been left behind with the mayor.

  “Lazarus, what’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That note from Doctor Satan… it made it sound like Abby was with us. Is there something I don’t know?”

  “It’s got to be Jakob.”

  Samantha’s expression of shock was almost comical. She saw the corners of Lazarus’ lips curl upward in response. “What makes you think it’s Jakob?”

  “Doctor Satan knows a lot about us – I wouldn’t put it past him to know that Jakob Sporrenberg became Eidolon. If Eidolon did rescue Abby, then Satan would assume that he was working with us again.”

  “But they could be anywhere!”

  “True… but I doubt they’ve had time to leave the city. Besides, it’s not like I plan to bring Abby with us to Ernst Hill.”

  “The moment Satan sees she’s not with us, he’ll launch whatever attack he’d been planning against Mayor Byles.”

  “Oh, I think he’d launch his attack regardless,” Lazarus replied. “Satan isn’t an honest man – he would like nothing more than to betray us so he could enjoy the looks of shock on our faces. But that’s not going to happen because we won’t let it.”

  “So what is the plan, then?”

  “How would you feel about wearing a wig?”

  ***

  The Lovecraft Hotel was abuzz with activity. Firefighters and police officers were combing through the building while the press was milling about outside. Since the Lovecraft was one of the oldest hotels in the city, there was a lot of interest in what could have happened within – especially now that rumors were flying about multiple female bodies having been discovered onsite.

  Morgan stepped into the foyer and spotted Inspector Cord chatting with a couple of fire investigators. Cord was on the straight-and-narrow, which put him at odds with many of the more corrupt officials in the city, but the whippet-thin man with the perpetually narrowed eyes was no friend to men like Lazarus Gray. He despised vigilantes almost as much as he hated crooks.

  “Inspector!” Morgan said jovially as he approached. The smile on his face was not matched by the expression on Cord’s – the police officer puffed harder on the cigarette that was tightly clenched between his lips. “Mind if I ask you a few questions?” Morgan pressed.

  The fire investigators moved away, not wanting to be part of whatever was about to occur. They knew how Cord felt about ‘amateurs’ getting involved in one of his cases.

  “What the hell do you want, Morgan?” Cord growled, blowing smoke in Morgan’s face.

  “Just trying to see if there’s anything I can do to help.”

  “You’re a real bleeding heart, aren’t you?” Cord tossed his cigarette toward a nearby ashtray but his aim was off. The butt glanced off the side and hit the ground, where Morgan plucked it up and delivered it into the proper receptacle.

  “Better be careful, Inspector. You’re liable to start another fire like that.” Morgan adjusted his tie and leaned in close. “So… how about giving me an idea about what you’ve found out? Lazarus is going to be seriously steamed if I don’t come back with some clues.”

  As Cord launched into a familiar tirade about vigilantes, a dark shape seemed to emerge from the wall behind him. It glided up the stairs, moving right past the investigators. No one took notice of it, not even when it darted between two officers and into the burned out ruins of Mr. Scratch’s apartment.

  Silently pushing the door shut behind him, The Darkling relaxed a bit. He ignored the terrible smells that wafted through the air and began to look about. Not all of the bodies had been removed – several still lay on the floor beneath white sheets. Here and there, the walls were splattered with blood and gore.

  The Darkling had seen a lot of death over the years and he’d personally caused a good bit of it. He didn’t believe that anyone was completely innocent but there were certainly grades of sin – and no matter what these women did for a living, none of them deserved the horror they had probably experienced in their last moments.

  Kneeling, The Darkling lifted one of the sheets and peered beneath. The body was badly burned but he could make out numerous stab wounds and what looked like bite marks on the woman’s neck.

  After making a disgusted noise, The Darkling stood up and began examining the rest of the room. There were no visible signs of The Devil’s Circus but he was sure that they had been here – he could sense it, with every fiber of his being.

  It wasn’t until he wandered into one of the bedrooms that he finally found something tangible. Scrawled on the wall, written in blood, were the same words that Tenzin had shown him so long ago:

  Death clings to this man like a funeral shroud. All who follow him shall know suffering. They will die alone and unloved. That will be the fate of Lazarus Gray and his Assistance Unlimited.

  The Darkling could only assume that Cord would have a field day with that one. Would he try and somehow pin this on Lazarus, as if all these women had died because Assistance Unlimited was operating in Sovereign?

  It was then that The Darkling noticed that the bloody message was beginning to fade from sight. As he stood there watching, it slowly returned, before once more vanishing.

  “Magic,” he whispered. Designed to appear only to certain people, it would probably never be noticed by Cord or his men. Doctor Satan had left it behind, as a warning and a reminder to the man that he now regarded as an enemy.

  The Darkling sensed more than heard the movement from behind him. He whirled about to find the Circus strongman creeping out from the closet. The burly figure was caked with dried blood and his eyes were dark narrow points hidden beneath his heavy brows.

  “You’re not the one we wanted,” the strong man said in a gravely voice. “I was hoping you’d be the pretty blonde one.”

  The Darkling drew his automatics, one in each hand. “I may not be as cute but I’m still one hell of a dance partner.”

  The big bruiser growled like a tiger and lunged toward The Darkling, who opened fire. Bullets tore through the strong man’s flesh but he kept coming, slamming hard into the vigilante. He lifted The Darkling off the floor and carried him toward the far wall. The impact was enough to rattle The Darkling’s teeth and for a moment he thought he might black out.

 

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