“Just keep your eyes peeled,” I told Leah when I brought her to that godforsaken corner. We stood there in the bleeding light of dusk, the city’s din fading to a murmur. I’d come here before, shooting the shit with those poor bastards, getting their story. They were in a bad way, stuck in a feedback loop of regret and confusion.

  I cut a deal with them—I’d steer them toward the light, help them hop off the merry-go-round, and in return they’d make a guest appearance for my sister, yank the veil off her eyes a little. Wasn’t an easy sell—the dead can be a stubborn bunch.

  As the day bled out in ugly shades of purple and orange, I called out to them. “Tom, Mikey, it’s showtime. Come on out, don’t be shy.”

  Nothing at first. Leah shot me her patented “this is bullshit” glare. But then the air rippled like a mirage, and there they were—Tom looking haggard and lost, little Mikey clinging to his hand. They wavered in and out of focus, but they were there, real as a heart attack.

  Leah damn near swallowed her tongue, all that doubt crumbling in an instant. She started to reach out, then snatched her hand back like she’d gotten zapped. Tom and Mikey just stared, their silence more profound than any words. Leah’s world tilted on its axis as she gawped at the impossible made flesh.

  I held up my end, talked those two wandering souls through the cosmic red tape keeping them stuck in limbo. It was surreal, playing afterlife counselor, but I got through to them. They started to fade out, wisping away on the breeze, hopefully to that big pie in the sky.

  The whole thing messed Leah up something fierce. Took her days to reboot, recalibrate her mind to accept what her eyes had put in front of her. She looked at me different too, like I’d sprouted a second head. To her, I wasn’t just Elias anymore, her fuckup brother who’d waded through the shit. I was an X factor, something that blurred the line between natural and supernatural. There was a new respect there, but tangled up with it was fear—the kind you feel around a dog you’re not sure won’t bite.

  “The other stuff is what it is,” I said with a shrug. “In between peeping on cheating spouses and chasing leads that go nowhere, I do what I can for the Caspers that glom onto me. Sometimes that means untangling the shit that tripped them up when they were breathing. A stiff needs answers same as anyone else.”

  “Christ.” Leah shuddered. “I don’t know how you stomach it.”

  “It’s not like I’ve got a choice. Call it karmic payback for all my sins.”

  She shook her head vehemently. “Elias, you’ve got to stop flagellating yourself. You fucked up, but not that bad. Right?”

  “Bad enough.” I glanced away, not wanting her to see the guilt eating at my guts.

  “And I’d lay odds that prick Mercer was the devil on your shoulder the whole time.”

  She wasn’t wrong. Mercer took me by the hand and led me down a road so dark and twisted it made the Ninth Circle of Hell look like Disneyland. With his forked tongue and talent for dressing up sin as virtue, he got me tangled in a briar patch of graft and morally gray policing. Started as chump change shit—skimming a little off the top of drug busts, turning a blind eye to certain “entrepreneurs” who greased the right palm. But the stakes kept climbing.

  Before I knew it, I was in bed with the worst this city had to offer, so deep in the filth I couldn’t tell which way was up. Mercer was the puppet master, always three moves ahead, making sure his hands stayed squeaky while mine got dirtier by the day. He could sniff out a man’s weakness like a shark scenting blood, and once he had his teeth in you, it was over. I was so punch drunk on the adrenaline, drunk on the illusion that we were untouchable, that I didn’t see the setup coming until I was already in checkmate.

  When it finally penetrated my thick skull how far I’d sunk, how much of myself I’d sold out, it was too late. I was a cop in name only, just another one of Mercer’s windup toys. And the one time I tried to buck his yoke, he made damn sure I paid for it in spades. He railroaded me, served me up on a silver platter. But the real pisser of it was, I’d greased the wheels for my own destruction, let him play me good.

  Maybe I didn’t do the specific thing that got me thrown in the clink, but I had enough dirt on my hands to deserve every second I rotted in there.

  “Speaking of that cocksucker,” Leah said, dragging me back to the present, “I’ve got some news.”

  My whole body seized up, alarm bells clanging in my skull. “What news?”

  She sighed, clearly dreading the telling. “He’s been spotted. Here, in the city.”

  “What? When? By who?” I lunged forward, nearly knocking over the bottle between us.

  “Guy I know. Says he saw Mercer riding in the back of some fancy ride a couple nights ago.”

  “He’s sure it was him?”

  “He’s sure. Mercer pinched him once upon a time.”

  “Fuck me. So the snake’s come out of hibernation.”

  “Maybe. Or this is just another one of his games. He’s got a price on his head big enough to choke a horse. Why come out of hiding now?”

  I lurched to my feet and stalked to the wall, glaring at Mercer’s smug face tacked up there. “Because he’s a megalomaniac piece of shit who thinks he’s invincible. He just fucked up, Leah. Made my job a whole lot easier.”

  Leah bolted up, alarm and anger warring on her face. “Jesus wept, El, I thought we’ve been through this. Let the cops handle it. Going after Mercer is suicide.”

  “The cops? Did you skip a few chapters, sis? I wore the blue, remember? I know exactly how many cronies that scumbag still has in the department, how deep the rot goes. This force is more crooked than a bag of snakes. You’ve buried enough of their dirty laundry to know that. And Mercer knows it too.”

  “Sooner or later his number will be up. Assholes like that always self destruct.”

  “Damn right. And I’m gonna be the one lighting the fuse.”

  “You’re not a cop now,” she said, struggling to keep her volume below a shout. “You can’t just put on a cape and go full vigilante. Mercer’s got his hooks in everything, not to mention that freaky cult. It’s a death wish.”

  I whirled on her, stabbing a finger at the wall plastered with victims. “Do I need to remind you how many died in that blast? How many were kids? Innocent fucking kids, Leah.”

  “You think I’ve forgotten? It still keeps me up at night. But I’ll be goddamned if I let that psycho take you too. You’re the only family I’ve got left.” Her voice cracked on that last part, tears springing to her eyes.

  The pain and fear in Leah’s eyes cut me like dull razors. She wasn’t just worried—she was terrified of losing me, the last blood tie she had in this world. A part of me ached to comfort her, tell her it would be alright, but that part got shouted down by the rage boiling in my marrow. Mercer’s betrayal had ripped something out of me, some vital piece that could never grow back. The wound was still hot and fresh and festering.

  I swallowed hard, fighting to keep my voice level. “I get it, Leah. Believe me, I do. But this isn’t some comic book revenge fantasy. This is real. Mercer didn’t just fuck me over. He destroyed lives. Dozens of them. Shattered families, left kids orphaned or crippled. And he’s out there right now, living it up while the rest of us pick through the carnage.”

  I paced the room, fingers twitching toward the gun on the table. “I replay it every night, that moment the world went white, the screaming, the stench of burning flesh. I see their faces, Leah. Every one of them. I feel the heat peeling my fucking skin off. And through it all, Mercer’s laughing. The bastard’s laughing.”

  I spun back to face her, baring my teeth in a feral grin. “So no, I can’t sit back and cross my fingers that karma will bite him in the ass. I have to do this, Leah. I need to do this. To make it right. To make him answer for what he did.”

  “The law did right by you, didn’t it? Got your verdict overturned.”

  “No, you did that. You and your stubborn refusal to swallow their bullshit. Just like I’m gonna expose Mercer’s bullshit for the whole world to see.”

  We traded a long look, at an impasse, the argument worn down to the grooves in a record. This staring contest always ended with her throwing up her hands and walking out. She knew I was a lost cause, that she’d have better luck bashing her head against a concrete wall.

  “You obstinate, self-destructive, myopic son of a bitch,” she hissed. “The universe handed you a blank check, a chance to start fresh, and what do you do? Dive right back into the same toxic waste that nearly drowned you the first time!”

  “Leah, c’mon, it’s not⁠—“

  “It’s not what, Elias? Not that simple? Not your cross to die on? Fuck you sideways. You wanna martyr yourself, throw yourself back on the pyre, you go right ahead. Just don’t expect me to light the fucking match this time.”

  “Will you just listen for one goddamn⁠—”

  But she was already hauling for the door, real tears streaking down her face now, purse swinging like a wrecking ball. “I risked everything to save your ass before, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat because you’re my brother and I love you. But I will not stand here and watch you self-immolate, not again. So when you’ve got some sense knocked back into that dense skull of yours, you know where to find me. Until then, I’m fucking done.”

  The door slammed so hard bits of plaster rained from the ceiling. I let out a shuddering breath and sank back onto the couch. I should’ve gone after her, should’ve said something, but what could I say? She was right and we both knew it. I was a wrecking ball, too hopped up on my own fury to see the collateral damage.

  “Way to go, fuckhead,” I growled at myself as I splashed more bourbon into my glass. “State of the art bridge burning right there.”

  Chapter

  Three

  The weighty silence left in Leah’s wake pressed down like a thumb on my windpipe. I snatched up the remote, desperate to drown out the bellowing void in my head, but before I could crank Entombed back to eardrum-splitting, my phone started spazzing out on the coffee table, the display flashing “number withheld.” Probably some insomniac with an itch to scratch, looking to rent the services of yours truly. The “PI 24/7” neon sign was a big fat myth.

  “Call back in the morning, asshole,” I barked at the phone, thumbing the volume button. But the phone kept ringing. And ringing. “Goddamn it.” I stabbed the answer button and snarled, “Do you have any idea what time it is? Blow up someone else’s phone until the sun’s up, shitbird.”

  “Elias, old buddy, is that any way to greet an old friend?” The voice was like nails on a chalkboard, a voice I’d heard in my nightmares a thousand times. A voice that turned my blood to ice and my guts to water.

  “Mercer,” I croaked, reflexively crushing the phone in my hand. The stereo went dead with a click, like the whole world was holding its breath. Hearing him, this ghost made flesh, it was like getting slugged in the throat, like choking on my own tongue. A tidal wave of sense memories crashed over me—the stink of his expensive cigars, the sly curve of his predator’s grin, the coppery tang of all the blood we’d waded through together. “The fuck do you want?”

  “Just checking in, partner. I hear you’ve been sniffing around, trying to dredge up ancient history. Figured I’d save you some trouble, tell you to quit while you’re ahead.”

  My grip on the phone got white-knuckle tight, the plastic creaking in protest. Just like that, I was back in that interrogation room, cuffed to the table, Mercer’s Judas smile burning into my retinas as he cinched the noose around my neck. “Why do you give half a wet shit what I do? You made it pretty fucking clear I’m less than dirt to you, or did you forget that little puppet show you put on for the DA?”

  “Elias, Elias, Elias. Always so emotional. I thought you would’ve moved past all that by now, what with your newfound lease on life and all. Let me spell this out for you, hoss—stop pissing in my pond. You’re smarter than this. You know how deep and wide my reach is.”

  A part of me, the part still hardwired to heel at his command, wanted to just hang up, pretend this call never happened. But the other part, the part that had spent two years pickling in hate, lunged for the driver’s seat. I could taste the bile rising in the back of my throat, could feel the anger trembling in my fingers. Mercer must’ve heard it in my voice, that tremble. He’d always been able to read me easier than a picture book.

  “You unbelievable sack of shit,” I hissed into the phone. “How many people choked to death on the smoke from that blast? How many kids had to be scraped off the sidewalk? And for what, you fuck? So you could pad your wallet? Protect some degenerate VIP pals of yours?”

  Mercer just laughed. “You never could see the forest for the trees, Elias. So fixated on that narrow definition of right and wrong. Wake up. This isn’t some fairy tale. The dragons always win, and the knights get eaten or bought off.”

  Hearing him talk like that, so fucking blasé about the lives he’d snuffed out, the worlds he’d incinerated, it made me want to reach through the phone and rip out his lungs. I was on my feet now, pacing the room like a zoo cat, every nerve and sinew vibrating with the need to break something. Preferably Mercer’s face.

  “You think because you’ve got money and connections you’re invincible? That you can just reshape reality however you want? Fuck you, Mercer. Fuck you and fuck your crooked pals and fuck that nutjob cult you’ve been greasing up to. I’m coming for you, asshole. I’m not gonna stop until I’ve nailed you to the wall for every ounce of blood on your hands.”

  Another razorblade chuckle. “Spare me the hero speech, you myopic shit. You’re no angel. How much blood is on your hands, huh? How much filth did you wade through, right by my side? Get off that soapbox before you break your neck.”

  I faltered at that, the wind seeping out of my sails. He was right. I wasn’t clean in this. Even before the frame job, my rap sheet could’ve papered the Great Wall. Somewhere along the way, the lines had started bleeding together, black and white mixing into a muddy grey. I shook myself, refocused. This wasn’t about my sins—this was about his.

  “We’re not talking about me, fuckstick. I paid for my transgressions. Two years in a concrete box, remember? My conscience is clear. But you? You’ll be gargling hellfire until the end of fucking time for the shit you’ve done.”

  “Big words from a broken down gumshoe. You’re punching above your weight class, Elias. I’m giving you an out here. Take it. Because if you don’t, the next time we talk won’t be nearly this pleasant. And that pretty sister of yours... well, I’d hate for her to get caught in the crossfire while she’s out there playing Lois Lane.”

  Hot coals dropped into my stomach at the mention of Leah. I’d known Mercer would go there, known he’d zero in on my only weakness like the fucking snake he was. But it still made my guts cramp with pure, atavistic terror.

  “You stay the fuck away from her, you hear me?” I snarled, spittle flying. “Leah’s off limits. This is between me and you. You don’t fucking touch her.”

  “Awful protective of sweet little Leah, considering she’s got just as much of a hard-on for taking me down as you do. I can’t blame her for wanting a piece of me, but you might want to put a leash on her before she wanders into traffic, if you catch my drift.”

  “I’m warning you, Mercer. You go near her, you so much as breathe in her direction, and I will carve you up one inch at a time until you’re begging me to finish it. Leah is a civilian. Your beef is with me.”

  “That’s the thing, Elias. You’re not a civilian. You never were, even when you were playing house with that badge. You’ve always been different, always had one foot in the shadows. I tried to get you to embrace that, harness that, but you just couldn’t let go of all that ‘protect and serve’ bullshit. And where did it get you? Spat on, set up, tossed aside like yesterday’s garbage. Seems to me you’re overdue for a real change in perspective.”

  I stopped pacing, arrested by the oily certainty in his voice. The hell was he getting at? “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means, my simple-minded friend, that you need to wake up and smell the brimstone. This world you’re clinging to, with its rules and its laws and its neat little boxes of right and wrong? It’s all a stage, Elias. A rickety facade to keep the sheep from shitting their pants in terror. The things I’ve seen, the places I’ve been... you can’t even conceive of it. The real power in this universe, the real players in the game, they don’t give a fuck about our human concepts of justice or morality. They eat that shit for breakfast and pick their teeth with our bones. I’ve just been smart enough to hitch my wagon to their star. And you could too, if you’d just open your fucking eyes.”

  He was completely off the reservation now, frothing like a snake-handling preacher hopped up on strychnine. But underneath the megalomania, there was an edge of something I’d never heard before, something manic and feverish and almost... exultant? A trickle of ice water slid down my spine. He wasn’t just talking shit. He believed this crap, believed it with the fervor of the mad. Had his corrupted cult scrambled his brain that badly?

  “Hitched your wagon to their star?” I echoed, trying to keep my voice steady. “The fuck does that even mean, you lunatic? You smoking the same ditch weed as those Manson-wannabes you’re funding? Hate to break it to you, but I’m not looking to ‘embrace the darkness’ or whatever culty horseshit you’re peddling these days. I just want to see you in cuffs. Or a box. I’m not picky.”

  “Still so goddamn short-sighted. You really think you know everything, don’t you? That you’ve got it all figured out? Well, let me share a little secret with you, brother. There’s a war coming. The war to end all wars. A battle between forces so far beyond your potato-brain comprehension it’d make you shit your Underoos. And when the dust settles, when the new order rises... you’re gonna wish you’d picked the winning side when you had the chance.”