The Burn Read online

  "Is that how you justify all this? You sleep at night by telling yourself that Miranda's strong enough to take it? She‘ll eventually recover?"

  "Fuck," Pete swore. "Do you have any idea who these people are, who we're dealing with here?"

  "No."

  "Yeah, well, neither do we. We know that people disappear around them. We know that they collect strays and runaways. We know that they call themselves the Rathvam. We know that they espouse some iffy belief about immortality and raising the dead from other dimensions. But their leader? We have no idea who he is. We've lifted fingerprints that match nothing, DNA samples that always end up contaminated. The guy is a fucking ghost. He only appears at night and never ventures into the open. It's all part of the show."

  "The show?"

  "C'mon, think about it. The guy calls himself 'The Necromancer'. He builds himself that creepy tower, he thinks he can communicate with the dead, that he's some kind of king of the dead. He's obsessed with it. He gets these college girls to swoon over him, join his cult. Then he probably uses some psychoactive drug, little torture, little hypnotism… All of a sudden, they have no idea what's real and what's not. They start to believe him, the whole thing, the whole complicated fantasy. Shit, who knows how many of them he's killed?"

  "You have to get her out of there. Don't you think they know who she is?"

  "If they did, she'd be dead already, right?" Pete shook his head. "No. They did a number on her, you know, just like they would any other woman in her place. She knows it too. She's after them. This is hardly the first time she's put her life on the line, sport. These guys have hurt her and now she wants to bring'em down and we're going to help. You think she'd want the investigation blown after what she's been through? You think she'd choose to pull out now and live every day knowing that these people are still out there, torturing and killing?"

  "She's been compromised," Seth said tightly, feeling his patience slip. "Can't you see that? Christ, it's not her decision to make anymore."

  Pete shot him a measuring look. "Don't do anything stupid, Seth. You might just get her killed faster than I ever could. Don't you be thinking that you can just go into that camp and waltz out of this desert with her on your arm and everything will be fine. It won't work, Romeo. Besides, she's already got Logan looking out for her, remember?"

  "Yeah. And where is he?"

  "He's around." Pete finished off his cigarette. "Unlike you, he understands the risks of this kind of work. He understands that it's part of who Miranda is. It's what she does. It's what they both do."

  "He infiltrates murderous cults?"

  "He does a lot of things," Pete said, grimacing into the sunlight. "More into terrorism these days, tracking down the drug money that finds its way into weapons deals, spent the better part of the last eight years living here and there as his investigations required it."

  "Can't imagine why they split up."

  "It wasn't just that, but it was amicable, and he's still protective."

  "Who cares what he is?"

  "You think you somehow understand her better than we do? Just because she's a damsel in distress doesn't mean she wants you riding in on a pony to fuck things up, partner. It looked to me like she made that pretty clear when the two of you were talking out there. She's been in tough spots before and she got out of them without your help."

  "Yeah. I get that."

  "If you want to help then work with us. Bring her to us. We'll give her the support she needs."

  Seth shook his head, walking away without reply.

  "You're going to do the right thing, Seth," Pete called after him. "You're going to realize that she needs more than just a cowboy with a quick tongue, so to speak."

  Seth flipped him off without looking back.

  * * *

  Miranda followed Julie through the darkened corridors of the Divine Gate, the raw smell of wet metal thick in the air around them. Tiny lamps shimmered from hooks on the walls, creating dancing shadows of their movements. The symbols on the wall seemed to whisper as she passed them, each one having a ghostly pitch. They stretched on endlessly, forming an ethereal song, an echo of imagination.

  Julie opened the golden door to Miranda's chamber and caught her breath in surprise. "Necromancer."

  Miranda followed her gaze to the cloaked figure standing in the middle of the small room. He was tall and broad shouldered, his face concealed by the thick black fabric of his hood.

  Julie immediately knelt on the metal floor grate, bowing her head submissively. "We are honored."

  Miranda stared into the blackness inside the hood, alarmed by the fact that there seemed to be nothing there for a moment, no face, no solid presence at all.

  "Beautiful Miranda," the figure said softly. "Where is your champion? You were supposed to bring him here."

  "He wasn't the one," Miranda answered, balancing carefully on her feet. "I'm choosing another one."

  "It doesn't work that way."

  Reaching up to the line of his hood, he drew the fabric back slowly, as if he were taking shape in the golden light of the room. He appeared medieval in the flesh, his hair long and white, his features starkly Romanesque.

  He rose and parted his cloak, revealing the stark black tunic underneath. A dark belt crossed his waist, offering slim pouches for powders and small tools, a jeweled dagger secured at his side.

  He regarded her with cold blue eyes, frowning as he moved to stand over her. "He woke you, Miranda. He called you from the depths and you rose. There is not another man in this desert, or this entire world, with the power to do that."

  Miranda shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "You need him now," the Necromancer insisted. "He is your protector. You will not be able to maintain that fair human likeness without him."

  "Human likeness?"

  "He has the energy you require. It is unique to him. And he has offered it to you, as I knew he would. Take from him now, take the energy you crave. It is the only way to remain in human form, to walk among them."

  "Take from him?"

  "That is what you want."

  "No."

  "You think you can hide it from me?" he asked, a soft hint of rebuke in his voice. "I watched him wake you, Miranda. His strength pleased you. His bravery pleased you. His touch brought you to life. When you take from him, he will please you like no one ever has."

  "Leave him out of this. Don't bring him here."

  "He will pursue you here. He knelt on his knees before you, because he knows what you are. He woke you and you opened the Gate of War. The power that now flows in your veins is unimaginable. You are a goddess, an elite figure among the Rathvam, your symbol divine. You must shed your mortal bias, your meaningless attachment to the human concept of life and death, and accept that. Accept what you are, and together, we will ensure the enlightenment of humanity."

  "Stop it." She glared at him. "Just stop it."

  "You grow weaker without him, even now," he said, disgusted. "Every minute that passes in this place is a drain to your divinity. You are not like the other goddesses, with no further purpose than to resonate within the power channels of the Gate. You were meant to walk among these humans. You were meant to live and breathe as one of them, so that you could bring him to us."

  "Jesus, what do you want with him? I thought it was the seven goddesses who were important. That's your myth, right? The seven goddesses unlock the lesser gates and unleash the power of this thing on the world, right?"

  "Unfortunately, the power of this 'thing' is not so one-sided," he replied cryptically. "Seth belongs here. He is an ancient and strong-willed soul. He has eluded me many times before, but as a goddess of conquest, you have beaten him in ways that I never could. He is defenseless against your beauty and your suffering. He has offered himself to you openly. You must now take from him to remain in human form. You must take from him, then bring him to me."

  "You're insane."

  He watched her
for a moment, determination glowing in his pale eyes. "You have no idea what I am."

  "This mythology…" Miranda glanced around the chamber in desperation. "A gate that opens into a divine world and brings some kind of power here, it works in this… whatever this place is, but it's a fantasy. It's not real. You can't convince me that I need to sleep with anyone to remain human. I am human, and I'm not about to deliver an innocent man into the hands of an ego-driven psychopath. It's not going to happen. You need to shut this thing down right now."

  The Necromancer smiled coolly. "Shut what down?"

  "It's time for this to end. You can't maintain control over all these people. You can't hold me here against my will. You can't kidnap Seth. This festival is way too public. These big ambitions of yours are going nowhere."

  He shook his head slowly. "You still fail to understand your situation, though perhaps it is forgivable. You do not remember the force that drove you to open the Gate of War, the power that you have to unlock the greatest gift ever given to mankind. You do not remember what happened here and that has made it impossible for you to accept what you have become. I can see now that you simply require further guidance."

  "Guidance?" Miranda hissed. "I don't think so."

  "Sometimes, we must be humbled to accept the truth," the Necromancer said, taking a step closer. "It is when we are in the greatest pain that we discover who and what we really are."

  Miranda shook her head, fighting a stab of panic.

  "Do you remember the blood?"

  "I—"

  "I permit you to remember it," he said darkly. "Go back to that night, when I held you in my arms, your breath slipping away between us, away from me, away from the pain."

  Miranda took a step back. "I—" Her voice sounded distant, so faint that she could cry out with all of her strength and not be heard.

  "Now, you remember it."

  What she remembered didn't make sense. It couldn't, in any reasonable world, make sense. "Oh God," she said in horror. "What are you?"

  "Your honored servant."

  "No," she whispered. "You're something else. Something—"

  He watched her, a faint smile playing on his lips.

  Miranda swore under her breath and pushed away from him, ducking low in a quick dash for the door. It appeared so close, a breath away, almost there. The Necromancer grabbed her and she spun, kicking hard into his stomach. He grunted and she tore the dagger from its sheath.

  The Necromancer hissed under his breath and pushed her off balance. She fell back against the warm metal. He came at her, pale eyes glowing.

  She rolled back and slashed at him with the dagger. The blade cut through the flesh of his forearm, spilling blood across his tunic. He grabbed onto the dagger, forcing it from her hand.

  Miranda punched him, her knuckles connecting sharply with his jaw. He growled and grabbed onto her wrist, now holding both her hands as she lay beneath him. She shook her head, screaming at him. "What do you want from me? You just want to hurt someone? Is that it? Is that what gets you off?"

  "No one can hurt you, Miranda," he said through his teeth, the promise of some dark truth hidden in his tone. "And now you will remember why. Now you will remember everything."

  * * *

  Seth walked through the fading light along the playa. The desert had turned soft and dusky around him, the mountainous ridge in the distance gilded by the last bright rays of sunset. Human silhouettes drifted through cooling haze, bicycle riders circling and turning like schools of fish, laughter erupting between the camps. His RV appeared ahead, an eerie permanence implied by the thick layers of dust now covering its windows and tires, as if the thing had been sitting in the middle of the desert for a hundred years.

  Fishing the keys out of his pocket, he reached for the door, only to find it open. It swung outward with the thin screech of metal. The interior of the RV was dark.

  Seth frowned, stepping up into the shadows to flip on the cabin light. A petite blonde woman winced up at him from the couch. She was easily recognizable, with clear blue eyes and ringlet curls. It was the same blonde woman who had escorted Miranda around the playa all afternoon.

  She looked shaken, her hair coming loose from its clasp, her eyes rimmed in red. She held her small hands in her lap, her fingers white and her expression strained.

  "How did you get in here?" he asked.

  "Your ex-girlfriend," the woman said, gesturing to an open envelope on the table. "Taped the keys to the door."

  Seth looked down and picked up the envelope holding his spare set, reading the word 'asshole' written in florid handwriting and black marker along its surface.

  He rolled his eyes. Thank you, Cecilia.

  "Please turn off the light," the woman whispered. "It would be easier to talk if you did."

  "You think I'm interested in making things easier for you? Where is Miranda?"

  "She's at the camp, please!" Her eyes glittered with tears.

  Seth swore under his breath and flipped the light off. He climbed into the cabin, leaving the door open as he stood before her. "What's your name?"

  "Julie."

  "Why are you here, Julie?"

  "She needs you."

  "Now?"

  "No, now she's—" Julie grimaced, swiping the tears from under her lashes angrily. "You have to come to the party tonight. The Necromancer has invited you to his private table. Miranda will be there. She needs you to be there too."

  "She asked you to come here?"

  Julie dropped her gaze. "No."

  "He did? The Necromancer?"

  "Yes, but it's not like that. You don't understand."

  Seth shook his head, then paused, noticing the ominous speckled stain at the hem of her dress, splatters that appeared dark crimson in the half-light from the open door.

  "Is that blood?" he asked, his heart taking a dive in his chest. "Are you hurt?"

  "Not me?"

  "Miranda?"

  "She's fine," Julie replied haltingly. "They fought. It was the Necromancer who was wounded. He was trying to calm her down, but she was furious."

  Seth felt his teeth grind. "Why?"

  "They were talking. He was trying to help. He was just counseling her, but she's so angry, so full of war and wrath."

  "Jesus. I'm going over there."

  "No!" Julie shot up from the couch, rushing forward to grab onto his arm. "Don't. You can't. Not yet. She's not ready."

  "Not ready?"

  "She's meditating."

  "She's what?"

  Julie pressed her lips together, grimacing before her gaze darted away. Her lip trembled. "She's not like the others, you know? The other goddesses, the other Rathvam… They aren't human any more. There's only a few that can appear that way, you know, that can appear like us. Miranda was created to walk among humans, but she can't always handle it. So, when she's really upset, the Necromancer speaks to her, some kind of prayer or something. And then she slips into the divine state, where the rest of them are, a place above the limitations of the human mind. She can't hear or see anything now."

  Seth shook his head, fighting a surreal sense of horror.

  "It doesn't hurt her," Julie said quickly. "But this time, he's ordered her to remember everything when she comes back. And that'll be hard for her."

  "What exactly is she going to remember?"

  "Everything she was, everything that is now gone," Julie whispered, still looking away mournfully. "He had to do it. He had to force her to remember so that she would understand that fighting against it is pointless now."

  "Fighting against what?"

  "Against her destiny."

  "What destiny?"

  "You."

  "Julie," he said sharply, grasping the woman's delicate chin between his fingers and turning her face back toward him. The glow from the open door cast her pale complexion in the rich colors of twilight, her eyes luminous and afraid.

  "I'm losing patience. You have to help me here."

 
"I am helping you," she said, emotion clipping the words. "Can't you see that? Can't you see that I want you to succeed? Miranda came to protect us. I never wanted her to get hurt. You have to believe that. You have to bring her back, even if it is just for a little while. She chose you. She deserves you."

  Seth drew in a harsh breath, trying to make sense of that.

  "Please," she begged. "Come tonight. You are expected."

  "Expected to do what?" he asked. "You're not telling me what I need to know. What has he done to her?"

  "I can't," she whispered. "I can't say anything more. You wouldn't understand anyway. You have to see it for yourself. If you bring her back, you'll see it."

  "Bring her back from where? See what?"

  "You'll see it," Julie repeated, as if convincing herself with the words. "You'll come for her. I know you will."

  He watched the woman for a moment, trying to decide how broken she was, how much of this she really believed.

  She raised her slender hand, lightly touching his jaw with cool fingers. "Miranda chose the right man," she whispered.

  She pulled out of his grasp and he let her go, allowing her to slip through the open door and out onto the playa. She walked away across the dust and disappeared between the tents, heading directly for the tents of the Divine Gate in the distance.

  Chapter Six

  Seth didn't arrive in costume. He walked past the blazing oil drum fires and into the Divine Gate camp dressed in nothing more than his boots, cowboy hat, jeans and a long drover jacket. He cut quickly through the lines of people in glittering costumes and masks at the entrance, scanning ahead for any sign of Miranda.

  An arena had been prepared for the event, with scaffolding and bright lights that flooded the entire area with streams of vibrant color. A DJ was on the stage, positioned behind a wired semi-circle of turntables. He bobbed to the big rhythm grinding through the ten-foot speakers around the stage, his fingers nimble across the dials of a large mixer, his headphones askew with one ear covered and one exposed. Motioning to the crowd, he raised his hand as the pounding melted into an ethereal choir melody that seemed to float into the starlit sky.