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Chapter Thirty-Four
Back on the street in front of the coffee shop, the rest of our group clamored for details, but without getting into the sordid history of the Seven Sisters, it was difficult to explain what we’d learned. The abbreviated version was that Marcela was immortal and she was likely at the Met.
Her immortality threw a cog in the wheel of my plans to murder her. She must be wearing the philosopher’s stone somewhere on her person, and I would need to strip her of it before I would be able to kill her once and for all. Sounded nice and easy in theory, but in practice I doubted she would just sit back and let me kill her.
People were so selfish about staying alive these days.
Another difficulty presented itself as we started our trek towards the art museum, which was located on the edge of Central Park. Three helicopters were circling overhead, and though none of them seemed to notice us, I suspected they were on the lookout for survivors.
If they were scouring the city searching for people to pull out, this might be their last pass before they came in full force. If they were going to launch their assault soon, they would try to mitigate the losses.
“Won’t they see that the dead are dead?” Cedes asked, following my gaze up to the chopper passing close to a nearby office tower. “They can’t still be planning to move in if there isn’t a threat anymore.”
“I don’t know what they’re planning,” I admitted. “Maybe they’re seeing if it’s safe to let ground troops come in. Either way, we need to be done by the time they act, otherwise we lose our chance. And I can’t let her get away.”
But as Cedes had pointed out, the dead were for the most part dead now. With only three of the necromancers remaining, most of the hundreds of thousands of bodies were lying still in the street, beginning to rot again thanks to the heat. It was only a matter of time before people started to come out of hiding and the military moved in.
We were running out of time.
I was running out of time.
There was only so much night left, and when it was over, the city would be reclaimed, and I would have to live up to my end of a fool’s bargain. I hadn’t done any of the things I’d meant to do with Aubrey’s power. I had planned to use it to rebuild the city, to restore things to the way they’d been before.
Now I’d be happy if I could use it to kill an immortal bitch and keep her from stealing her awful, evil jewelry back. Even now, knowing what she had done all this for left a sick taste in my mouth. I’d lost beloved friends and a husband I’d cherished less than I should have, all because she wanted some necklaces back.
My city had been reduced to burning rubble over pretty stones.
What kind of hideous reality did I live in, that people were willing to go to the extremes she had, for a money, power and trinkets?
The more I thought about it, the angrier I became.
r /> It took us about a half hour to reach the museum, and when we did, I could have kicked myself for missing the obvious so entirely. Holden, Desmond and I had been in the park mere hours ago, and had we come this way when we left, the answer would have kicked us right in the face.
Huge banners were mounted in front of the museum, one depicting Giuseppe Mastropietro’s face, as illustrated by one of his contemporaries, and the other showing the beautiful necklaces he’d made that had doomed his wives. In the center was a third banner proclaiming, Seven Sisters: the Cursed Wives of Giuseppe Mastropietro, the Mad Alchemist of Napoli.
It was exactly the kind of sensationalist exhibit that would draw crowds in droves, like the Hope Diamond times seven. People loved a good story of madness and intrigue.
Another dead giveaway—no pun intended—we were in the right place was the dozens of risen milling around on the front steps, blocking our entrance.
“Is anyone else sick of looking at corpses?” I asked.
Reggie, Nolan and Cedes all lifted their hands while a few others nodded or mumbled their protest.
“Any objections if I just get rid of them?”
While the rest of the group didn’t seem to understand what I meant, nobody protested except Holden, who asked, “Is that the best idea?”
“In for a penny, in for a pound. It’s not like I can give the powers back.”
He said nothing and didn’t argue further, which I took as his tacit permission. Fire had worked remarkably well last time, but I didn’t want to force the group to try getting around a hundred burning bodies. I also didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention from the choppers overhead. Not until I’d done what I came here to do.
Instead of burning them, I decided it was high time to test the outer limits of my borrowed gifts.
Dead, I thought, and once again the blue-light string fanned out from one of the bodies to the next, until they were all tethered together like a giant spider web. “Everyone, step back,” I ordered, and my group did as they were told, moving back onto the sidewalk.
Dead. This time I put real command into the word, and the bodies all went still. They turned their vacant gazes to me but did little else, because of course they were already dead.
Gone.
