Hungry Ghosts (Eric Carter #3)(65)

Tabitha catches the question on my face and says, “I could have snapped out of the cuff any time I wanted. I just didn’t want to.”

“Why?” Santa Muerte says. I’m wondering the same thing.

“It was nice having my own thoughts for a while.”

“You can be forgiven for that,” Santa Muerte says. “This once. Now break the bond and come back to me.”

“No,” Tabitha says. “I don’t think I will.” She winces as the cuff glows brighter.

“Stop it,” I say, stepping in close to Santa Muerte and pressing the obsidian blade against her chest. Her warriors step forward, raising their weapons, but she stops them with a wave of her hand.

“As you wish,” she says. The cuff cools and Tabitha lets out a long held breath. “I see you still aren’t sure whether it is I or Mictlantecuhtli who is the true threat.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s both of you,” I say. “I just haven’t found him, yet. He’s not in his tomb.” Santa Muerte looks over at Tabitha, surprise on her face.

“It’s true,” Tabitha says. “The tomb is empty. We were hoping he might have come here, to Chicunamictlan.”

“I have not sensed him.” She looks over at her warriors as if sizing them up for loyalty. I wonder how many are more devoted to Mictlantecuhtli than to her. She seems to come to some sort of decision.

“You are too dangerous here on your own, husband,” she says. “Men, take the blade.”

“You don’t want to do that.” I press the knife hard against her chest until I feel the solidity of her sternum beneath it.

“You forget where you are,” she says, “and who rules here.” In the blink of an eye the obsidian blade is in her hand and her men surround Tabitha and I, their weapons at our throats. “I control the very fabric of this place, husband, and until you destroy Mictlantecuhtli you only have a thin sliver of his power.”

“I can’t very well kill him without the knife.”

“Nor can you kill me. When he is found you will get it back.” She turns it in her hands inspecting it closely. “I have not seen this blade this close in a very long time.”

“Want to see it closer?”

She smiles and I suddenly have a very hard time reconciling this woman with Santa Muerte, whose skeletal grin made reading her face impossible. If she had appeared to me like this, things might have turned out very differently.

“I was there when it was made,” she says. “I’ve seen it close enough. I’ll have my men escort you to the Bone Palace. We can search for Mictlantecuhtli together.”

I don’t like this but I don’t see what I can do about it. Will the warriors attack me if I resist? Could they even hurt me? Most of me is jade at this point. But then what can I do against them? Any spells I cast could tip me over the edge. The Browning won’t slow them down and the pocket watch would be pointless. What good will a time bending watch do to souls that last an eternity?

And even if I did have something that could hurt them, Santa Muerte can just blink at me and it would all be pointless. She’s in charge here, not me.

“Sounds like a plan,” I say. Maybe I can figure something out on our way to the palace. “Tabitha’s been helping me track him down. Between the three of us—”

“My Avatar and I have things we must discuss,” she says. “She will not be joining you.”

The warriors crowd around me, pushing their way between Tabitha and I. Tabitha scowls at Santa Muerte but says nothing. If we get separated, I have no doubt that one way or another that cuff is coming off and then, what? What’s going to happen that wasn’t already going to happen? Did I think I wasn’t going to have to kill her? That I could save her from being Santa Muerte’s puppet? That she was even telling me the truth and wasn’t just an extension of her this whole time?

Yes. The answer comes to me faster than I expect it to. Somewhere along the way I started to believe that Tabitha was telling me the truth and started to think we might get out of this alive together.

“That’s not happening,” I say. I call up my magic, doing my best to keep the taint of Mictlantecuhtli’s power out of it, and blue fire springs up around my hands. Whether Santa Muerte can see me or not she’s got to be able to feel the magic.

The warriors look to Santa Muerte for guidance. I know this isn’t much of a Mexican stand-off and I can’t keep this up forever. With every second I can feel Mictlantecuhtli’s power creeping into my own. Pretty soon this little display is going to cost me, and it’s not going to gain me a goddamn thing.

“Eric,” Tabitha says, stepping between the warriors and putting her hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s going to be fine. I’ll see you at the palace. Please.”

“When I see her again,” I say, staring into Santa Muerte’s eyes, “she better be her.”

Santa Muerte takes Tabitha’s hand. That overpowering scent of smoke and roses fills the air and the two of them begin to fade away. “I would not harm my Avatar, husband,” she says just before they disappear. “She is far too important to me. Just as you are.”

That’s what worries me.

___

The warriors box me in as we walk through Chicunamictlan. Three in front, three behind, three on either side. The hike to the city is deceptively short. What looks two miles off is in front of us in minutes. Spaces seem different here, distances shorter. I didn’t notice that happening anywhere else. Is that part of the breakdown of the rest of Mictlan?