Graves' end

apocalyptic text for any of it to be legible. He harangued anyone whose eye he could catch about the pressing need to repent, and Lia looked away from him. They’d driven past a surprising number of individuals who seemed to share his attitude already. Lia wondered when they’d had the time to hand-print all those ‘The End Is Nigh’ signs. She hated to think that people had them pre-made and socked away in garage rafters or under their beds, in case an unscheduled end of the world should ever catch them unawares.

Lia ignored the hysteria as best she could. She figured people’s existing beliefs would help them reassemble their conceptions of reality later on-assuming that things eventually did return to normal. There were no guarantees on that score, she reminded herself. This was unprecedented territory.

Their cruiser sped up again once they entered the Cahuenga Pass itself. From here they’d reach their destination within minutes, and Lia already knew she meant to send the police escort away as soon as they arrived-using Esteban’s brand of influential tricks, if necessary. The Blackdogs were needed out on these streets more than anybody, and, after what had happened to Ben Leonard, Lia didn’t want any more of their blood on her hands.

Chapter Fifty-Two

Black Tom stood by in the waiting room, helplessly watching Winston Watt’s old bones threaten Hannah inside the second of the King’s Chambers. Tom knew he couldn’t cross the barrier the way they both had and retain his will, as he was technically dead already and therefore a subject of el Rey’s (even if he’d been absent without leave for the last hundred years). He’d be rendered helpless by Mictlantecuhtli’s influence as soon as he stepped across the threshold, and he’d be no good to anybody, then.

“But I hardly know anything about these things!” Hannah protested, staring down the barrel of Winston’s gun. Tom had no idea what would happen to her if she got shot while standing in the realm of the dead. “I didn’t even know things like you could be, outside of movies,” she insisted.

“The dead like me can walk the earth this time of year, with permission from our King,” Winston informed her. “But a living thing like you has no business being here. You couldn’t be, unless you know something more than you’re letting on, my dear.”

“I really swear I don’t,” Hannah said.

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Winston replied. “All I want is for Black Tom Delgado to take over my position in Mictlan. Do you think your Lia will trade him for you?”

“I… I have no idea,” Hannah said. Tom didn’t either. He was glad that Winston couldn’t see him.

“I think you’d better hope so,” Watt said. “Now, summon Dexter Graves. He will bring Mictlantecuhtli, and Mictlantecuhtli must approve the terms.”

“I don’t know how to summon,” Hannah said. “I missed that class.”

“I am getting a bit tired of this obtuse routine, lady.”

Hannah sighed. “Okay, I can try,” she said. “But I wouldn’t expect much.” She put the lighter to her forehead and closed her eyes. “Hannah to Dexter,” she said in a dopey nasal voice. “Hannah to Dexter, come in Dexter…”

Winston looked like he was about to say something pissy in response when Graves’ ghost appeared beside the altar stone.

“Wow,” Hannah said, looking as startled as anyone. “Good reception. There must be a hellphone tower near here.”

King Caradura appeared a moment later, looking none too pleased. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded of Hannah. “Why have you summoned Dexter Graves from our palaver?”

Black Tom faded further back, making himself as hard to perceive as possible. Only distraction was keeping el Rey from spotting him out here. He thanked whatever other gods might be that Mictlantecuhtli wasn’t quite omniscient.

Hannah cocked her thumb at Winston. “He placed the call,” she said. “I’m just the operator.”

“Winston?” ‘Miguel Caradura’ said, raising his dark eyebrows. El Rey was fully dressed as a living human being for this performance, a form in which Tom had rarely seen him. He was even wearing a modern-day suit, one with big shoulders and pinstripes.

“Tomas Delgado is with them, Mictlantecuhtli,” the bony majordomo said. “The witch Lia will trade him for this one. I humbly ask that you force him to assume the mantle I have carried in his place. I’m tired. I just want to sleep. Please, Mictlantecuhtli.”

“I have a better idea,” Hannah said. When she had the King’s full attention, she continued. “Look, in case you haven’t noticed: I’m in here. I walked in and I didn’t melt. Guess that must mean I’m a witch, huh?”

“It… would seem so, Lady,” the King said. “Yes.”

“I’ve helped Lia with her work,” Hannah said. “I’ve fed the doorway demons, and I think I’ve seen them too. I make my living helping things grow out of the earth, and I just now summoned up a ghost. I guess that’s enough to qualify me as a witch or an operator or whatever it is they’re called, technically speaking. And I hear you need one, Mister, um… Death. Sir, I mean.”

“You hear true. What then do you propose, witch?”

“Leave Lia out of this. Do what you’ve gotta do with me.”

“That’s a really bad idea there, Miss Hannah,” Graves’ ghost said.

“Very good.” Caradura agreed with a nod, ignoring Graves utterly. “I accept your terms. Let us, as they say, ‘do this thing.’”

Hannah nodded too, and they shook on it, her slender hand disappearing into el Rey’s powerful mitt. Winston looked on, completely flummoxed.

“Hannah no,” Graves protested. “You can’t just-”

“Hannah!”

Everyone within the second chamber whirled around when Lia, Ingrid and Riley burst into the office. Winston Watt raised his gun and fired. Whether he did it reflexively or on purpose was more than Tom could say. The shot resounded in the tiny, crowded chamber, making every living ear ring.

The bullet caught Ingrid square in the chest, slamming her back against the door and exploding the garnet pendant she wore on a silver chain. Tiny shards of the stone rained across the floor like drops of crystallized blood. Everyone shied back against the walls of their respective chamber, except for Winston and el Rey. Ingrid sank to the first room’s carpet amidst a stunned silence, leaving a dark red smear down the door behind her. It matched the evidence of Graves’ long-ago death that still decorated the other side of the deeply-varnished wood.

Graves’ ghost dove back into his bones and they flew across the barrier at Winston, decking and disarming the dirt-encrusted skeleton in one decisive move. The action left him inside the second chamber, though, and Black Tom didn’t know if Graves would be able to exit back out into the realworld again, now that his physical remains had entered Mictlan.

Hannah stepped aside to let Graves’ skeleton bum-rush the trigger-happy manservant out into the first chamber, where Riley caught him, slapped binding bracelets on him, and dumped him to the floor.

Lia, still in the first room, was staring down at Ingrid. She and Tom hadn’t had time to acknowledge one another yet. She knew he was with her, though, and he could feel the dizziness the sight of Ingrid’s scarlet blood caused her. It looked garishly bright against the redhead’s pale skin.

“Thank you, Lady,” Caradura said to Hannah, startling her by snatching Graves’ lighter right out of her hand. “But your services will no longer be required. My first choice just became available.”

Caradura crossed into the outer office, through the barrier, becoming skeletal Mictlantecuhtli in the blink of an eye. Tom knew from experience that el Rey could go no further than this first room, nor could he assume a false form out here, this close to the realworld. No more than his Tzitzimime or his conquered Archons could.

“You stay away from her!” Lia snapped, interposing herself between Mictlantecuhtli and a gasping, trembling Ingrid. “You stay where you are,” Tom’s girl yelled at el Rey, although she might as well have yelled at the ocean for all the good it would do. Mictlantecuhtli was no more reasonable than the waves or the tides or the axial tilt of the earth.

Riley wisely grabbed Lia and yanked her aside. The cowled, emaciated figure of Death strode past them