Walking Dead

well with Thor. It didn’t go over all that well with Suzanne, but her shoulders slumped in agreement anyway. I said, “Thank you,” and meant it. “Call me if you get any more future flashes, okay?” I wrote down both Billy’s and my cell numbers, and Suzy folded the paper into her hand.

“Be careful, Detective Walker.”

“I will be.” I gave her another quick hug and grabbed my belongings as I headed for the door. Billy fell into step behind me, catching my elbow at the door and pulling a bulletproof vest off the wall. “Zombies don’t use guns, Billy. They chew you to death. Have you heard from Patrick? Did the holy-water brigade do any good?”

“Put it on anyway.” Billy sealed a vest in place across his own broad chest. I struggled into mine on the way down the stairs while he dialed Patrick, though the sigh he let out at the end of the conversation didn’t fill me with confidence. “It worked in a lot of places, but not everywhere. Sonata’s out with a lot of the other talent in the city, trying to keep things calm. I’ll call her from the car.”

“Talent.” I scraped a little snort of laughter. “Is that what we call ourselves? All the witches and mediums and shamans?”

“Oh my,” Billy said a bit compulsively. “And, yeah, it is. Joanie.” He touched my shoulder as we hit the parking lot, and I turned back to him with a frown. “What happened with Morrison?”

For a few seconds the question just didn’t make sense. Then understanding flooded me, and color burned my face. “Nothing. Nothing. Morrison and I are fine. It’s Thor. I—we—we just broke up.”

Dismay made Billy’s face long. “Oh. Oh, crap. I’m sorry, Joanne. I thought things were going pretty well for you two. What happened?”

I looked down at myself. I was wearing a bulletproof vest and a gun, and a still-glowing sword at my hip. I could see hints of light from my necklace and bracelet, and if I thought about it I could feel the weight of my esoteric shield on my left arm. The Sight washed on, making all of those things much clearer, and I lifted my gaze again to meet Billy’s, knowing full well my eyes had gone gold and spooky. “What do you think happened?”

“Yeah,” he said after a long minute. “Yeah, I guess I can see that. Sorry.”

“Yeah.” I pulled the rapier from my hip and tossed it into Petite’s backseat. “So am I.”

My apartment was only a five-minute drive from the precinct building. I ran up the stairs, noticing that the vest’s extra weight didn’t slow me down. It would have, not that long ago. I’d become studly sometime in the last year. I grabbed my drum and thudded back down five stories while phoning Gary. “You said you didn’t want to miss out on any more fun stuff. Does fighting off hordes of undead sound like fun?”

“Lady, you got a weird idea of fun.” Gary sounded thrilled. “Where’re we meeting?”

“That depends on where you are.”

“Home, but I can get into the city fast.” Gary lived in a three-bedroom ranch-style house on the edge of Bellevue. It’d been paid off thirty years ago and recently renovated. I figured if he sold the place he’d be a millionaire.

“I’m in Petite. It’ll be faster for me to come get you.” That wasn’t precisely true, but I no longer had Doherty on my tail and I had a serious urge to bury my sorrows in speed. The one danger in driving like a bat out of hell— aside from the inherent danger of driving like a bat out of hell, that is—was that Petite was a very recognizable car. There weren’t that many liquid purple classic Mustangs out there, and only one of them had a license plate reading PETITE. Still, I’d yet to meet the cop car I couldn’t outrun, and I might even get away with claiming police business if I did get caught. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. If you’ve got a shotgun, bring it along.”

“Fifteen? Since when do you have a transporter bea—”

I hung up and made it to Gary’s house in eleven and a half minutes. He was waiting outside the front door, a sawed-off shotgun over one shoulder and an expression of disapproving delight marring his features. I didn’t bother killing the engine, letting Petite grumble as Gary slid the gun into the backseat with my sword, then crawled in the passenger side to say, “What kept you?”

“The bridge slowed me down.” At least there hadn’t been any zombies on it, just ordinary traffic. I filled him in on the day as I sped back into Seattle proper, ending with, “So I want you to drum me under for the séance. If we can get anything from Chan, then we go monster hunting.”

“What if we don’t?” It was possible I was driving too fast. Classic Mustangs didn’t have oh-shit handles, but Gary kept reaching for one. “And you think I drive by using the Force?”

“At least I look where I’m going.” We spun out coming into the museum parking lot, though if it hadn’t been empty I wouldn’t have indulged. Look, driving fast cars was the next best thing to sex, and I’d just written off any hope of a sex life for the foreseeable future. I wanted my thrills where I could take them.

Gary let go a bellow that sounded one part terrified and two parts excited, then fell back in his seat, clutching his heart. “I had a heart attack four months ago, you crazy dame!”

I called up a handful of healing magic and thumped my hand over his, against his chest. It fluttered and sank in, and I smiled. “Yeah, and the doctor said you’ve now got the heart of a twenty-five-year-old. You can handle a joyride or two, Muldoon.”

“You’re dangerous, lady.”

“You have no idea.” I got out of the car not knowing why I’d said that, but it made me feel strong and confident, which, right then, I was glad of. Gary collected his gun and my drum. I put the rapier back on and looked up to find him frowning at me.

“The dye’s smearing, Jo. Didja get it wet?” He tested the drum’s surface just like I had two nights ago, and found it as taut and smooth as it had ever been.

“I don’t know what’s wrong. I think it’s…” All my confidence drained away. “I dunno. I always thought that was a wolf, but now I’m wondering if it’s a coyote and it’s been ruined because he’s gone.”

“Aw, c’mon, Jo, that sounds…” I could see him struggling between a couple choices of words: silly was one, and like magic was the other. Both were true. It sounded silly and it sounded like magic. Gary shrugged his bushy gray eyebrows. “Guess that could be it, then.”

“Yeah.” We sat down together on the museum’s front steps and I nerved myself up to take a look at the city with the Sight. I didn’t think I could see holy water sprinkling down and washing the cauldron’s black goo out of the air, but at least I should be able to see where the stuff had been washed away.

And in most places, it had been. There was a hint of light where the cemeteries were, residual water in the air, maybe. The clouds overhead were breaking up and moonlight lent more strength to the bright patches. I just didn’t know if it was enough. Most graveyards closed their gates at sunset, so hopefully any undead who had risen were stuck behind iron, but it wasn’t something I wanted to bet the farm on. I needed to find the cauldron and destroy it. I couldn’t think of anything else—short of me going around and stabbing every dead man walking in Seattle—that would tear their unlife away from them. I’d do it if I had to, but breaking the source of their magic would be more efficient. “You know what I still don’t get?”

“Legions of faithful fallin’ at your feet?” Gary gave me a bright grin when I dredged up a glower for him. I’d never seen a man his age with such nice white teeth. They had to be false, but I couldn’t imagine how to ask that politely.

“That either,” I admitted, “but I was thinking about the cauldron. That thing is death on wheels, and I don’t get why it hasn’t done this everywhere it’s been. Or, rather—” I flapped a hand “—I don’t get why whoever warded it so it wouldn’t do this hasn’t just come and fixed the wards.”

“I like how you say that. Warded it. Like it’s normal.” The funny thing was, I thought Gary actually did like how I said it. I think he considered it a good sign that I was talking about warding and magic spells like they were part of my everyday life. After all, they were.

I turned my gaze back on the city, looking for any trails the cauldron might have left now that its murk was largely drowned. There was nothing: the pools of black mist had gathered together, dissolving any trail even before the blessed water’d fallen on them. “I wonder if that kind of thing is in my repertoire. I can shield myself. I can even shield other people, at least for a while. I wonder if I can make a shield against a death cauldron leaking all over a city.”

“Reckon you’ll get a chance to find out.” Headlights swung into the parking lot as Gary spoke. We both got to our feet, waving a greeting to Billy, then Sonata, as they got out of Billy’s patrol car.

Billy muttered, “I don’t even want to know how fast you drove to get here before us. Sandburg’s on his way with the keys.”