Something Strange and Deadly (Something Strange and Deadly #1)(75)

“H-how will you bring Father back?”

“With the pages in your pocket—the grimoire.” He extended his hand. “Now give them to me.”

“No.”

“This is not a request, El. This is a command. Give them to me now.”

I swung my head side to side. Stall for time, Eleanor. Stall for time. The Spirit-Hunters would appear at any moment. Their pulse bombs would explode the corpses, and Elijah would realize the futility—the evil—of his course.

“How have you become so big?” I sputtered. “And where are your spectacles?”

He growled a laugh. “Oh, you will like the answer to that, El. It solved a problem for me, and it solved a problem for you.” He fluttered his fingers as if playing some invisible piano. “And, best of all, that evil man finally got what he deserved.”

“What do you mean?”

He turned to his army and shouted, “Venī! Come!” At first nothing happened. Then a tornado of flies began to move over the rows of Dead. Something was coming.

“Elijah, what have you done?”

“You’ll see.”

“Tell me!” I tore at his dirt-covered sleeve.

“I dealt with that pest,” he spat. “Exactly as I did with the other boys from school.” He shoved me from him. “The ones who tortured me. The ones whose fathers killed our father.” He ticked the names off on his fingers. “Fred, Clint, James, and Junior. Though Junior was the hardest one to nab.” He turned an accusing eye on me.

My throat was so tight I could barely breathe. Elijah hadn’t only targeted Gas Ring members, he had targeted his bullies. His campaign wasn’t only for Father—it was for his own revenge.

“Junior?” I asked. “What do you mean ‘hard to nab’?”

“He was always with you, and I couldn’t take him then.” He snorted at the thought. “No, no. But then he foolishly left behind his little bodyguards.”

“You,” I croaked. “It was you who followed him from the garden.”

“Yes,” he said simply “And now I am stronger than ever before.”

“How?”

“A sacrificed life can work many wonders with the right spells.” He gestured to his body. “Cure illness, ward off death, and of course, increase magical power.”

A sacrificed life. Decapitation. “What have you done? Tell me!”

“I can show you.” He pointed to the corpse army.

I spun my head where he directed. The Dead were parting amid furious flies. A body shambled through them. Where the head should have been there was a raw, crusted stump with part of the spine jutting out. And in the corpse’s hand, gripped tightly by the dark hair I had once admired, was Clarence’s head. It swung back and forth with each jolting step forward. The once fresh, white skin was now waxy and gray.

My stomach heaved upward into my throat. I toppled to the ground and vomited. I could take the corpses, the nameless faces, but this one... this one I had cared for.

This one had been my friend.

Sweat and tears mixed on my face. I couldn’t stop my stomach’s revolt.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. Elijah was a necromancer, and Clarence was dead. A walking corpse.

Seeing Clarence like this, knowing he was—despite everything—not a bad man, I realized just how much I had cared for him.

Now... now it was too late.

“Eleanor,” Elijah said, his tone gentle. He had crouched beside me, and even in my sickness I could feel his genuine concern. Some of my brother still lived inside this man.

“What is it?” he asked. “So many Dead and yet this one disturbs you?”

“He was not a bad man,” I rasped, my throat scorched raw from the bile. “He meant to make amends to you! He didn’t deserve that, Elijah! No one deserves that.” I wiped at my mouth and hid my face in my hands. Please let this end. Please, God, tell me it’s not real.

But it was real, and my brother, my Elijah was the cause of it all. He was the necromancer, and he had killed Clarence. I risked a glance over; the headless body of Clarence was still there.

I pushed Elijah away from me and tried to stand. “You’re a monster.”

He blinked and shook his head. “But I saved you.”

“How? From what?” I wobbled, almost falling again. Elijah lurched up to help, but I fought him off. “Don’t touch me!”

His mouth bobbed open and closed, and his eyes darted side to side. “But Junior... he and those boys—they were the monsters.”

“How?”

“They weren’t good people.” He tugged at his hair. “Their fathers destroyed our—”

“So?” I shrieked. “So? Does that make it all right?” I lunged at him. My fists connected with his chest. “You’re insane! How could you? How could you?”

He wrestled me, and I was no match for his immense power. His false, evil power. He threw me aside easily.

Then an explosion boomed through the air.

Elijah whipped his head toward the sound, toward Agricultural Hall. “Not today,” he snarled, whirling back to me. “I’ve not come this far to be stopped by them. By you.”

“I’m your sister,” I quavered. “Your best friend.”