“Ugh. Why are there so many ingredients?” CJ mutters.
“Is this what I think it is?” Ezra asks.
“Depends,” I say. “Do you think it’s a banishing spell?”
“A what?” Tolliver asks.
“This is the companion spell to the resurrection spell. With the resurrection spell, I resurrected Hades. And now, with the banishment spell, I can send her right back to hell.” I can’t keep the smile off my face. “This is no longer just a heist.”
The others stare at me from CJ’s floral couch. Crowlene lets out acawfrom her perch.
“It was neverreallya heist,” Ezra points out, “because we weren’t stealing the codex, we were destroying it. If anything, that’s a…vandalism?”
I grimace. “Ew, no.”
“Sabotage,” CJ says.
“A quest?” Tolliver suggests.
I shake my head, my eyes scanning the rest of the spell. “Dante still would have called it a heist.”
He would have loved this job, too.
It turns out this job isn’t a vandalism or a quest or a heist. It’s a murder. We’re doing a murder. And, you know, I don’t feel all that bad about it.
Before we can move forward with the plan, though, we have to locate Hades. My gut tells me she’s with Rook at his mansion. We need to confirm it, though. So first, Rook gets a call from the city (plus an email, plus a text, because when you’re masquerading as bureaucracy, always do things in triplicate) letting him know that crews will be working on the power lines that lead to his house. Meanwhile, Tolliver calls in a favor from his buddies from his job at Styx.
The next day, a group of club bouncers and Afterlife tourist agents shows up at Rook’s house dressed as linemen in a bucket truck we “borrowed” from the power company’s depot. They place a small high-zoom camera on top of one of the utility poles. Only one of the fake linemen is electrocuted in the process, and, really, it’s a very mild electrocution. I don’t even need to resurrect him, and he’ll be out of the hospital in a few days.
Once the camera is in place, we’re able to surveil remotely. We quickly discover that not only has Rook returned home, but he’s brought a very alive Hades with him. As much as I’d hoped that fork through the sternum had killed Hades, I knew it was just wishful thinking. If wishes were fishes or however that saying goes.
There’s also a steady stream of visitors: several hundred of what I assume are demons in the Cult of Hades plus one DoorDash driver who drops off a Personal Pan Pizza, a box of wine, three entire rotisserie chickens, and a bag of limes.
During the day, the house is mostly quiet, but there’s activity every night at midnight. The entire top floor lights up, both withelectricity and the occasional flash of Hades’s bident. We don’t pick up much sound on the surveillance camera, but there is a faintthumpof music or the scuffle of fighting or the low roar of voices. Things quiet down around three in the morning, then they start back up again the following night.
We could try taking out Hades during the day, but we’d come across the same problem Ezra did when crowds were thin in Times Square. Fewer people meant fewer distractions—less shouting, less laughter, less bumping and pushing. Without a crowd, the mark is focused on you. Sometimes the best time to do a job is when everyone’s watching.
You just have to make sure they’re seeing what you want them tosee.
TheFix
Thirty-Eight
To knock or not to knock? That is the question.
It’s well past midnight, and I’m standing on Rook’s porch considering my next move as the muffled sounds of a demon party rumble overhead. I could announce my presence, or I could let it be discovered. It’s a matter of what serves my purpose best.
A cold wind slips under my high collar. I’m in a floor-length dress, all-black leather and red lining. Form-fitting bodice, sweeping skirt with a bustle. Structured shoulders, finished to a high shine, like armor. Hair pulled back into a twisted chignon.
Basically, if I’m going to play necromancer, I might as well look the part.
I raise my fist to knock but hesitate.
Around about now, the thrill of the job would usually kick in, the anticipation of all the things that could go wrong and all the solutions I’d discover. But my confidence is shot, and all I feel is the pounding of my heart and a knot of dread in my stomach. I remind myself that this is what I’m good at. I have plans and backup plans, an exit strategy for every scenario, but more than that, I can think on my feet. I’m made for this job. Because it was never going to be a sabotage or vandalism or even a heist.
This was always going to be a con.
We did the Groundwork, learned everything we could about demons and Hades and Rook. I’d already done the Encounter in the graveyard when Hades decided she wanted something from me. The Buildup: I refused her, made her want me more. And now it’s time for the Rope: draw her in and let her tie herself up. And there’s only one way to do that.
