How to be Death (38 page)

“Blackmail you?” Naapi laughed. “With what? He came to my room this afternoon and told me everything.”

Before Freezay could get into the middle of the
he said–he said
argument, there was a loud crash out in the corridor, followed by frantic barking. Instantly, Freezay and Daniel were moving toward the open door.

“I’m going to beat you silly for this!” I heard Kali yell—and then Horace flew headfirst through the doorway, landing hard, his face two inches from Freezay’s feet.

“There’s no need for continued violence!” I heard Jarvis say as he and Runt burst in, hot on Kali’s heels.

“No need for violence?” she snarled at Jarvis as she grabbed Horace by the chin and lifted him back onto his feet, her eyes never leaving the smaller man’s face. “This piece of nonhuman trash is the reason I still smell like skunk stink.”

“I understand that,” Jarvis said, trying to calm the irate Goddess down. “But hitting him won’t make the smell go away.”

Kali turned her head, scowling at Jarvis.

“Really, goatboy, that’s the best you can do?” She turned to me. “White girl, is that the best he can do? Because what he said just makes me want to hit this guy more.”

I walked over to Kali and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Jarvis is right. Let’s hear what Horace has to say, and if he can’t explain himself about the skunk stink, then you can punch the crap out of him—and guess what? I’ll even hold him down for you.”

This seemed to appease her and she relaxed her grip, letting Horace go. He backed away from her, his dark eyes amused rather than angry—which made me wonder if we didn’t have this whole thing backward. I knew Kali was tough—I’d literally watched her rip people’s heads off their necks—but I got the distinct impression Horace had
wanted
Kali to bring him here.

Thankfully, Freezay chose that moment to step in.

He pointed to Oggie and said: “I’m not through with you yet.” Then he turned his attention to Horace.

“Skunk spray aside,” Freezay said, sitting down on the edge of the love seat. “I have another question I’d like to ask you first.”

“You want to ask me why I killed my sister,” Horace said softly.

And then he smiled with anticipation, as if he was very much looking forward to what was about to come.

Horace laughed, the sound swelling as it left his belly until it had taken over every molecule of air in the room.

“His sister?” Erlik barked, rising from the love seat. “Who’s his sister?”

Lazarev’s mouth dropped open and he stared at Horace, understanding dawning on his face.

“Of course,” he said, setting his drink down on the sideboard and walking over to Horace. “How could I have not seen it before…”

Lazarev trailed off, his voice full of wonderment as he reached out a hand to touch Horace’s face.

“I wouldn’t be too excited to meet Horace … or should I call you Huitzilopochtli?” Freezay asked Horace. “You came to the Death Dinner with every intention of killing Coy, didn’t you?”

The gleam of satisfaction in Horace’s eye made Lazarev blink in confusion, his excitement dissipating as Freezay’s words hit home—and then, without warning, he was on the attack, shoving Horace as hard as he could.

“Why’d you kill her, you bastard!” Lazarev screamed, his hands clawing at Horace’s face, trying to rip the other man’s eyes out with grasping fingers.

Like he was batting away a fly, Horace reached out and
grabbed Lazarev’s bad wrist, twisting it until the Russian screamed. At that point, Daniel and Erlik descended on Lazarev, each grabbing an arm and pulling him away. Lazarev, enraged and in pain, kicked at his captors, alternately screaming obscenities at them and then begging them to let him go so he could kill Horace.

“Please, let me go, let me kill him—”

“Enough!” Freezay yelled, grabbing Lazarev by the collar of his shirt. “Behaving like a lunatic won’t bring her back!”

Freezay’s words were as about as effective as chipping away at Mount Everest with a ball-peen hammer. Lazarev continued to struggle against his captors, his face mottled with rage.

“Why?” Lazarev spat, the cords of his neck in bas-relief against the smoothness of his throat.

“I didn’t kill her,” Horace said as he walked over to the fireplace, which was as far away from Lazarev as he could get.

“I don’t believe you!” Lazarev shrieked, fighting to break free from Daniel and Erlik so he could attack Horace again.

“Detective,” Horace said, appealing to Freezay. “I think you know as well as I do that had I been given the chance, I would’ve beheaded Coyolxauhqui myself. But alas, someone beat me to it.”

Everyone looked at Freezay, waiting for his response.

“Go on,” Feezay said, raising an eyebrow.

“Someone has gone to great lengths to make it appear as if these killings were based on Aztec ritual,” Horace continued. “Do you really believe I would be so stupid as to implicate myself in such an obvious way?”

“No, I don’t, actually,” Freezay said. “It would be a real lapse in logic on your part, one I just don’t see you making.”

“My sister came here to steal the Death book,” Horace continued, his gaze lingering on me as he spoke, to the point where I started to feel slightly uncomfortable. “She was under the impression she could use it to call back the spirits of our four hundred dead brothers and sisters, whom I had killed, when, at Coyolxauhqui’s behest, they attacked our mother, Coatlicue. They were embarrassed by the circumstances of my inception and Coyolxauhqui incited them to violence. She, alone, escaped the massacre and has been plotting revenge against me ever since.”

“The Death book?” Naapi asked, confused. “What’s he talking about?”

Jarvis, who was still standing in the doorway, beat me to the punch.

“Someone took the fully annotated copy of
How to Be Death
from Calliope’s room last night.”

I decided a change in subject was necessary or we were gonna be adding mutiny to the steadily growing list of crimes on this ship.

“You said the murders were
made
to look like Aztec sacrificial killings,” I said to Horace. “How can you tell that they’re not?”

Horace considered my question for a moment.

“The heart.”

“The heart?” I repeated.

Horace indicated that I should join him at the fireplace. I didn’t move until I’d gotten the okay from Freezay, who nodded. Apparently he was all for letting Horace have his way.

“It’s all right, Calliope,” he said. “Horace has no beef with you.”

I slowly crossed the room, coming to stand beside the powerful Aztec God, Huitzilopochtli—or Horace, as I’d called him when he was merely the dude who’d served me dinner.

“Look here,” he said, picking up the wrought iron fireplace poker and thrusting it into the dying ashes.

At first, I didn’t see what he was talking about, but as he sifted through the ashes, I noticed something dark and rubbery stuck inside the grate. I squatted down next to the hearth to get a better look at it.

“What the—” I started to say.

“Lots of fluid in the heart muscle,” Horace said, softly, kneeling down beside me. “Makes it hard to burn. Besides, we Aztecs only set fire to the hearts of willing sacrificial victims. It’s an honor for them—to have the energy from their souls released back to the sun.”

He paused, reaching out and brushing his thumb along my cheek.

“We
eat
the hearts of our enemies, lovely lady.”

Needless to say, Horace had made his point.

“I see,” I said, unsettled, as I stood up too quickly, all the blood rushing to my head. “Thank you for the explanation.”

“Ah, it was my pleasure to serve you,” Horace replied, ignoring everyone else in the room as he reached out and took my hand, his lips grazing the swell of my knuckles. Then he whispered: “You might have a look at the freezer. It may prove helpful in finding the real murderer.”

He moved to the exit but stopped at the door to give me one more meaningful look. I blushed as his dark, bedroom eyes swept callously over the curves of my body before returning to my face, his cunning gaze making me feel naked and vulnerable—something I didn’t think was possible when you were wearing pajamas—and then he was gone, disappearing through the open doorway.

At Freezay’s nod, Daniel and Erlik released Lazarev, who instantly shoved them away before striding across the room so he could get in Freezay’s face.

“You just let him go?”
Fabian Lazarev screamed, cradling his wrist against his chest.
“Are you insane?!”

Not needing an answer, he took off after the Aztec god.

It was a fruitless endeavor; he was never going to get his hands on Horace, but Lazarev was so full of rage he was incapable of listening to reason. From what I’d just experienced, Horace was a force to be reckoned with—and I had serious doubts that Kali would’ve been able to capture him if he hadn’t wanted all of us to see the burnt heart in the fireplace. Horace intended Freezay to know that someone else was responsible for his sister’s murder. I had no doubts he would’ve slain Coy without hesitation had he been given the chance—it just appeared that he wasn’t the kind of man to take credit for a thing he hadn’t done himself.

“Now what are you going to do?” Erlik asked, speaking for the room. “You’ve let a prime suspect go free, which seems rather foolish, if you ask me—”

“There is a method to my madness, sir,” Freezay said, interrupting him, a sly look playing across his rakish face. “I promise that all will be revealed in due time.”

Erlik opened his mouth to say more, but Freezay cut him off:

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a freezer to inspect. Come along, Calliope, Runt.”

“Coming,” I said as I grabbed Kali’s limp hand. I could tell she was peeved at me for letting Freezay release Horace without a fight, but after two tugs on her arm, she finally let me pull her along behind me.

“Damn, white girl,” she said. “Don’t yank my arm out of its socket.”

We stopped in the doorway long enough to see Yum Cimil and Naapi descending on Jarvis and Daniel—and I felt bad leaving my poor Executive Assistant and my ex-boyfriend to deal with all the fallout.

“Let’s just sit down and discuss this calmly,” I could hear Jarvis saying as we stepped out into the hallway just in time to catch Freezay disappearing down the hallway.

“I know how you got skunked,” I said as Kali and I fast-walked toward the kitchen.

Someone, probably Freezay, had been kind enough to hit the lights so that we weren’t walking in total darkness, but the iridescent lighting gave the portraits on the walls a pretty eerie vibe.

“Oh, do you now, dipwad?” she said, narrowing her eyes and daring me to answer.

“Yup. You were spying on Horace. You recognized both him and Coy, so you were sneaking all over the Castle trying to see what they were up to.”

“You think you’re
so
smart, don’t you, white girl?” She scowled at me.

“Uh-huh,” I said, my voice a stage whisper. “I
do
think I am so smart. So, what did you see?”

“What makes you think I’m gonna tell you anything?”

“Fine,” I replied. “Don’t tell me. See if I care.”

We reached the end of the twisting hallway, the bright lights from the kitchen beckoning us forward, but Kali suddenly grabbed my arm, stopping me in my tracks.

“Wait,” she said, adjusting the folds of her sari where it tucked in at her hip—she’d obviously had time to change in between spying sessions, I noticed.

For the first time since the craziness had started, I found myself wondering what Kali had done with my dress. It was an
odd thought to have right at that moment, but once it was in my head, I couldn’t help but be curious if she’d hung the dress up so it wouldn’t get too wrinkled.

“Uhm, you didn’t happen to hang my dress up, did you?” I asked, unable to help myself.