as if only it was keeping him from falling to his knees. If my knowledge of necromancy was correct, all we had to do was break his concentration, get his eyes off those zombies, and our guys would be able to destroy them.
I looked at Vayl. Got the nod.
“So you’re the son of a bitch who killed my brother.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
I
felt like Clint Eastwood, about to duel it out on the streets of Laredo with the gun-toting bully who’d torched my farm and shot my horse. And, like I said before, killed my brother. Only, since Dave was technically alive, I didn’t feel I was bringing quite enough emotion to the role. So I reminded myself of how I’d felt before he’d revived. There. That did it.
I stalked to the middle of the room as the Wizard turned, first his body, then his head, then his eyes. A slow- motion dance step that made him realize belatedly that he faced two attackers.
“They’re off us and coming your way!” Cole warned me. “You’ve got maybe three minutes before they’re on you.”
Just keep to the plan,
I told him silently, knowing he would despite the fact that it looked as if Vayl and I were about to be trapped between six zombies and their pissed-off master.
“I ought to kill you right now, you . . . you monster!” I cried. I kept my expression taut. Fraught with pain. But just behind my eyes calculations were whizzing through my brain like I’d just been handed my college chemistry final. The Wizard, whose resemblance to FarjAd I’d put down to coincidence, I now realized must be familial. It wasn’t just looks they shared. It was a way of moving. A sense of one’s place in the world. But where FarjAd opened up to include everyone along with him, the Wizard kept out all but a select few. You could see it in his expression, even now forbidding us access though we had him at a huge disadvantage.
“No, Jasmine!” Vayl held up his free hand. The other, holding tight to his cane, pointed at the Wizard as he spoke. “This man must pay. And there is only one way to ensure that justice is served. You promised!”
“Yes,” I said, allowing my stance to ease somewhat. “My brother made a specific request of me. And I will honor it.” I held up the bone in my right hand, my left securely tucked behind my back. “Do you see this? Do you know what it is?”
He glanced down. His left hand wasn’t even bandaged, it had healed so long ago. It just lacked a pinky.
“No!” I yelled. “I destroyed yours the second I took it out of my brother’s neck!”
I whipped my left arm into the open. Let him see the fantastic bandaging job Cam had done. A hint of red showed at the “stump” where it sure looked like I’d hacked off my smallest finger.
“You are not a necromancer,” the Wizard whispered. But he sounded unsure. He stepped forward, into the pool of light provided by a standing lamp covered by a beaded red and gold shade. Here the resemblance to FarjAd faded beneath the sallow, emaciated look of a man who hadn’t slept in weeks and only ate when someone forced him. Running Dave must have taxed him to his limit. I hid my satisfaction behind a surge of anger that my brother had once been spiritually connected to this slime.
“I am
other
,” I told him hotly. “And that’s enough. Especially when all I want to do is control one. Puny. Zombie.”
Vayl slid the sheath off his cane sword. The metallic
whoosh
sent a shiver up my spine. “Just a slit to your throat,” Vayl said silkily. “Just enough for Jasmine’s ohm to be inserted.”
“And then you’re mine,” I said. “Just like Dave wanted. You’ll be my zombie servant forever. Slave to an American assassin. How do you like them apples, Kazimi? And here’s the yummiest” — I hugged myself and licked my lips ecstatically — “the most chocolate cream-filled deliciousness part. Before I set you up in my apartment, wearing a frilly white apron, baking bread, dusting, and cleaning the toilet? I’m going to use you to take down the Raptor. That’s right. I’m setting your whole network up for an Edward Samos takeover. You’re going to lure him right out of the shadows. And when he moves in, the whole network caves. Won’t that be lovely?”
As the Wizard’s stony facade started to crumble, what I’d just said about Samos and shadows triggered a memory from my trip to hell with Raoul. It was important, but not enough to warrant my attention just now. I tucked it into my Check Later pile and concentrated on the Wizard’s face. I’d seen men go gray before. Delightful, as usual.
“What is it that you want?” he whispered. “I’ll do anything to avoid . . . ”
“Zombie bondage?” I inquired. I got right in his face, mustering all the spite I could gather on short notice. A surprising amount surfaced. If the words on my tongue were venom my whole mouth would’ve gone numb.
“You know what I want? Nothing,” I spat, my voice low and cruel. “My boss, here, has agreed to let me kill you slowly. You’ve got a lot of lives to answer for, after all. And justice so often looks the other way when it comes to pricks like you. So why would I give up my one chance to make things right? I mean, you’ve hidden yourself from the world for what? Twenty years? Built a booming real estate business using your legit identity while your shadow self perpetrated the worst sorts of atrocities imaginable on innocent civilians. It was you who released mustard gas into that subway in New York, right? And you planned the murder of three hundred Kurdish schoolgirls. Because we all know what Angra Mainyu thinks about females who can read. And, yeah, I’m certain I heard the Wizard was behind the bombings of Israeli airliners, British consulates, and Somalian Freedom trains.”
“You have no proof!” the Wizard cried.
Bingo
. “Give it to me,” I said.
“What?” He looked bewildered. Like I’d just dropped him in the middle of the rain forest and ordered him to hitchhike home.
