Return of the Hunters (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 4) (18 page)

“Boy, you don’t have the guts to shoot me!”

I pulled the trigger. The bullet plowed into the ground, inches from Orville’s feet.

Exactly where I wanted it to go.

“Let’s find out if I do, shall we?” I said, and raised the gun to head level. “I think it’s time for target practice.”

I’d never seen four people turn and run away so fast.

I stood there watching them bolt through the swamp, willing my body to stop trembling. At least I’d managed to keep the shakes out of my hands. Finally, I lowered the rifle and turned back to the camp.

“We’re done here,” I said. “Let’s go.”

C
HAPTER 31

S
ince Morris was thoughtful enough to leave the keys in it, we took the truck.

I had my boots back, too. I’d forgotten about Garth until he came running up, just as we were leaving the camp, and dropped them hastily at my feet. I’d thanked him, but I didn’t think he heard me. The kid was off like a shot before the boots hit the ground.

Hopefully, that was the last Valentine I’d ever see.

The truck was a quad cab. Denei drove with Reun riding shotgun, and Zoba and the others sat in the bed so I could stretch out on the back seat.

It wouldn’t have mattered where I rode. Right now, any position short of floating in mid-air was going to hurt. But I didn’t tell them that, since they were only trying to help.

“So, how’d you find me?” I said when we got moving.

Reun shifted to look between the front seats. “I believe I’ve told you that I can track nearly any spell,” he said. “Including a
gealdht
, like the one that still influences you.”

“Right. You did mention that once.” I thought about changing my position a little, but decided it wouldn’t be any more comfortable. It’d just hurt more to move. “And you can find your way back okay from here, Denei?”

“Sure, I know this place. Ain’t too many stretches of solid ground in these parts.” She glanced in the rearview mirror. “We really just gonna let them be, after what they done to you?” she said. “I mean…”

I’d been thinking about that. Not killing them was the right thing to do, but letting them continue to roam around doing Milus Dei’s dirty work wasn’t. “Could you explain to a stranger how to get to that campsite?” I said.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Well, it’s going to take them a while to realize I’m not tracking them, and another while to decide they should break camp. Because they’re arrogant fucks. They’ll want to get another night of hunting in, at least,” I said. “So if I make a phone call when we get back to your village, I can have them rounded up and sent to prison. For multiple lifetimes.”

Denei flashed a skeptical look. “That ain’t how the cops work around here,” she said. “Even if they bother arresting anybody, they’d be out in a day. Far as they concerned, ain’t no crime in the bayou.”

I smirked. “I’m not calling the cops. They’re on the FBI’s Most Wanted list.”

“Well, damn,” she said. “Guess that’ll do it.”

I was pretty sure it would, especially if I had Captain Abraham Strauss of the NYPD contact the FBI instead of Gideon Black, retired body mover. Abe probably wouldn’t be too thrilled with that. But at least he’d be glad to know I was still alive. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll rest until we get back,” I said. “It’s been a long night.”

“Of course.” Reun gave me that strange look again. “Gideon…who are those people? How do you know so much about them?”

I took my time answering. “They’re the Valentines,” I said. “And they used to be my family.”

This time when I closed my eyes, I actually slept.

And there were no dreams.

T-Sam and Aubin were on the porch when we pulled up in front of the house. As soon as I hauled my battered carcass out of the back seat, T-Sam locked eyes with me, then stood abruptly and went inside.

Maybe he was pissed off that I hadn’t brought his lantern back.

The twenty feet from the road to the porch looked way too far to walk just yet. I leaned against the truck while the rest of them got out and gathered, trying to mentally sort through everything I had to do before I could crash for a few hours.

And the first thing was standing a few feet away, deliberately not looking at me.

“Bastien.”

He faced me with a raised brow. “Yeah?”

“Sorry I was so…short with you, back there,” I said. “Those people, they’re a lot more dangerous than you know.”

He smiled. “Ain’t no thing. I figured you knew what you’s doin’, me.” He glanced at Isalie, and nodded like he was agreeing with something. “But damn, you is one scary mother,” he said.

“Bastien,” Isalie said sharply. “That ain’t nice.”

I laughed. “It’s fine. I’ve heard that a time or two.”

“
Mais
, he don’t have to put it like that.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Really, it’s okay.” I was going to have to be one scary mother, if we had any hope of beating Legba. But right now I had to tie up the loose ends around the other monsters. “So we need to…”

I trailed off as T-Sam came from the porch with a shirt in one hand and a full bottle in the other. He walked up to me and tossed the shirt. “You a mess, white boy,” he said.

That was when I realized I’d been standing here shirtless and hadn’t even thought about people staring at me in horror. For the first time, my scars weren’t dictating my actions. They didn’t matter anymore.

The Valentines were no longer calling the shots in my life.

“Um. Thank you.” I shrugged carefully into the shirt, not wanting to insult T-Sam while he was actually speaking to me. Sort of.

He looked me up and down, and then held out the bottle. “Dis rum,” he said. “Looks of you, best drink the whole t’ing.”

“I think I can manage that.”

He grunted. It might’ve been an approving grunt.

“Anyway,” I said. “We need to get rid of this truck. Drive it into the river, or the swamp. Somewhere it’s not going to be found.”

T-Sam grunted again and held a hand out. Apparently, Denei understood this as ‘give me the keys, I’ll take care of it’, because she dropped them into his palm. He nodded, whistled loudly over his shoulder and jerked his head.

That brought Aubin off the porch. No words were exchanged as the two of them climbed into the pickup and drove off.

“Damn,” I said. “Is your whole family psychic?”

All the Duchenes laughed, and even Zoba cracked a smile. “Nah, we jes’ kin,” Denei said. “We got loads of practice not talkin’ to each other.”

“Yeah, ’specially Oncle T. He like you,” Bastien said, pointing to the bottle. “He don’t share his rum with nobody.”

“Okay, then.” I smiled and thought maybe I could make it to the house now, especially with the promise of a drink or five at the end. And sleep. Lots of sleep. “There’s a phone around here somewhere, right?” I said.

Isalie nodded. “Up the house.”

“Good. I’ll call Abe, so he can have the trash picked up.” Then there’d only be one thing left to do—but it was a damned big thing. “And tonight, we go after Legba.”

C
HAPTER 32

T
here were two cars waiting for us at the mainland docks after the trek back through the bayou on T-Sam’s boat. Bastien and Isalie had taken one of them to run some unspecified errands, and they’d meet us in a few hours.

The rest of us were headed to New Orleans.

Abe had been just about as upset as I figured. Especially when he asked what part of Chicago the area code I’d called from was, and I said the Louisiana part. He’d grumbled something about how I’d better not be in South America the next time I called. But he agreed to call the FBI, with the promise that he was going to interrogate the hell out of me about all this when I got home. Emphasis on
when
.

I’d smiled to myself when a trio of low-flying black helicopters that had to be government passed over us in the swamps. Score one for the best damned captain in the NYPD. Maybe they’d give him another promotion for such a big bust.

He’d hate that, too.

Zoba was driving with Denei upfront, me and Reun in the back. We were still in a largely residential area, but only five or ten minutes away from the city proper. After a good stretch of sleep and some food in me, I was feeling almost normal again. And the moon had just come out, so that would take care of the rest.

Of course, the fact that this might be my last night alive kind of put a damper on the whole feel-good recovery thing. I would’ve tried to take another day or two, make sure everyone was at full strength and we had as many advantages as possible before we went after Legba. But he’d already demonstrated that he could spy on his “children” whenever he felt like it.

And if he found out we were still plotting against him, he’d just kill the rest of the Duchenes.

“So, how’s this going to work?” I said. “I get that voodoo is about belief, but my magic isn’t voodoo. I guess I’m supposed to just be the DeathSpeaker really hard at him, and then he’ll…give up?”

Okay, I probably shouldn’t have said that out loud. It sounded insane. Definitely not helpful in making me believe any of this was going to work.

Denei shifted sideways in her seat. “You got voodoo, if you believe you do,” she said. “You is as big as you is.”

“Excuse me?”

She smiled a little and patted Zoba’s shoulder, and he made a soft sound. “Somethin’ our
pauvre maman
used to say. You is as big as you is.” She gestured like she was searching for words. “Means you got all the power you need, long as you got the confidence to use it.”

Great. Self-confidence wasn’t exactly my strong suit. “Right, so believe in myself,” I said. “Anything else I should do? Because that seems like…not enough to keep from getting murdered in about five seconds flat.”

“You cain’t give
him
the power. Belief goes both ways—you gotta believe he ain’t strong enough to beat you,” she said. “And it don’t hurt to have other folk believe in you. That’s why he’s so strong. Everybody
knows
what he is…least, what he’s supposed to be. He goes by Legba ’cause that name has power.” Her expression grew furious. “But he is not a god. He’s a thief and a monster. Everything he got, he stole, right down to the name.”

That, I could believe with no problem. “Shouldn’t I be this Baron Samedi, then?” I said. “That’s a name with power. And he’s afraid of it.”

Denei shook her head. “You be
you.
The DeathSpeaker,” she said. “You got the real power. You can make your truth greater than his lies.”

I sighed. This was making less sense by the minute. “Got any suggestions on how I can do that?” I said.

“No, I don’t.” She met my eyes with a steady gaze. “Because I ain’t you, handsome.”

“Perhaps I can assist you,” Reun said. “Do you know what the DeathSpeaker is?”

“Yeah. A weapon of mass destruction.”

“In the wrong hands, yes. But the DeathSpeaker is held in high regard. It has always been considered a position of nobility among the Fae.” He gave a rueful laugh. “Certainly a title that’s afforded greater respect than my own.”