Something Strange and Deadly (Something Strange and Deadly #1)(74)

“It’s not safe here either.”

I gazed up at his face. Something was off. Elijah had become a man since he’d left, square-jawed and whiskered. His voice was so much deeper than three years before, his frame so much larger, and...

“Your spectacles,” I said. “Where are they?”

“I don’t need them anymore.”

“Why not? How is that possible?”

“Now’s not the time for talk.” He grabbed at my arm, but I skipped out of reach. “Listen, El, I can’t hold that spirit off for long. Any moment now it will return, and its army of animals too.”

A warning whispered in my head. “H-how did you fight the spirit? You stopped it. Why are you here?”

“I’m here because I was following that spirit.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Lucky for you, isn’t it? Now come on.”

“Why were you following it?” I slid my hand into my pocket and stroked the velvet bag.

“I thought it would lead me to something I want.” He narrowed his eyes and watched me for several long seconds. “Something I need, actually.”

My stomach hitched. “Wh-what is it you need?”

“I think,” he said, emphasizing each word, “that you know the answer. And judging by your movements, I think what I seek is in your pocket.”

“I don’t understand.” I shook my head violently. “Y-you mean the necromancer needs it, not you.”

“No.” His brow furrowed. “It’s for me. I want the book.”

“But you’re with me now—y-you don’t have to go back to him.” I rushed to Elijah and clasped his hands. “You’re with me now, and I’ll get you out of here.”

He wrenched free. “I’m not sure what you mean. I’m quite fine as is.” He waved a hand up and down his body. “You don’t need to care for me anymore, El. I’m not that weak, pathetic thing from before.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just want—”

“Enough.” He gripped my arm and yanked me toward the exit. “This spirit is powerful, and I’m losing control.”

My mind rioted and my body resisted, but he was stronger. He was unnaturally strong, and he hauled me easily to the exit. Past the American flags and the prism-filled lighthouse. We left all the displaced animals behind. At the door, Elijah paused and gave me a warning look.

“There are a lot of Dead out there.” He tipped his head toward the door. “No hysterics.”

“I’m not afraid of the Dead.” I clenched my teeth. “I don’t need taking care of either.”

He shrugged. “If you say so. Now come—please.” He pushed through the doors.

The sunlight blasted me, and the stench rolled over me. I gagged and whipped my sleeve to my mouth. I tried to see through the spots in my eyes.

The Dead, organized in regimented rows, were spread before me. Tall, short, decayed, fresh. The only movement was the buzzing blanket of flies.

I reeled back and smothered my cries in my sleeve. I could see no escape. “Elijah—what do we do?”

He merely chuckled and lifted a shoulder. “Well, El, we’re going to stand here a moment, and you’re going to tell me where the grimoire is.”

“I-I don’t know what you mean. What’s a grimoire?”

“You’ve already lost the game.” He tapped the side of his nose. “You blabbed about it before.”

“But I don’t have it.”

His eyebrows bounced up. “Then why did the spirit want to kill you, I wonder.” He hauled me to him. “Enough excuses now. You know what I want, and I know you have it.”

“Why do you want it?” I shrank within myself, but he heaved me even closer.

A smile twisted at his lips. “Isn’t it obvious?”

I waved vaguely toward the corpses. “The necromancer?”

He chuckled. “Yes, the necromancer.” His nails, dirty and crusted, bit through my sleeve and into the bruises Clarence had left. “Now give it to me.”

I knew with sick certainty what the answer would be, but I had to ask anyway.

“Who is—” My voice broke. I tried again. “Who is the necromancer?”

“The only man clever enough and strong enough to perform such a task.” He grinned triumphantly. “Me.”

“No. You didn’t do this.” My voice was rough.

“What do you mean?” He flung down my arm. “Of course I did.”

“My brother would never do something so sick.”

“Sick? Sick?” He recoiled. “But this is revolutionary, Eleanor! I will make history with this army.” He slammed his fist to his chest. It made a hollow thump as if nothing were inside. “I have made myself strong by commanding this army of the dead. I will show the world my power with this army. I will have my revenge. And”—his voice dropped to a confiding whisper—“I will bring Father back with this.”

My eyes bulged and my mouth went slack. Bring Father back? Was he serious? Father had been dead for six years.

Elijah smiled, a single eyebrow arched high on his forehead. “Mama will be pleased, no doubt. I will bring him back and show him the man I have become.” He opened his arms. “And together we will topple the Gas Ring and take the council seat that is rightfully ours.”