“Point taken,” I said.
“It’s actually pretty goddamn impressive that Mictecacihuatl has been able to rebrand herself as Santa Muerte. Had to start small once everything went to shit, but she’s done good for herself. She’s been invading dreams, moving shit around, getting people all worked up over her for the last few hundred years. And now look at her. She’s a savior, she’s a devil. Nobody can shut up about her.”
“Okay, so she can’t get out,” I said. “She gets herself an avatar. Now she can move around.”
“Not quite. She can influence her avatar. She’s connected to her the way a transmitter’s connected to a receiver. But she can’t completely rule her. She’s still her own person. What she needs is to swap places with her avatar.”
“Swap places,” I said. “You mean the way Mictlantecuhtli and I are swapping places.”
“Exactly. It looks more obvious on you because what I did to him with the jade is transferring over to you, too.”
“Tabitha’s becoming Santa Muerte the way I’m becoming Mictlantecuhtli?”
“Right now, it’s swapping. You’re turning into a rock, Mictlantecuhtli’s turning to flesh. But the point isn’t to be a swap. It’s to be a replacing. But that part doesn’t happen until there’s also a sacrifice.”
“The obsidian blade,” I said. “It’s a sacrificial knife. But . . . wait a minute. They’re not trying to get Tabitha and I killed. They’ve been trying to get me to kill the other and . . . Oh, goddammit.”
“I know that look,” Darius said.
“They are the ones who need to be sacrificed,” I said.
“You and that girl are vessels. They’ve been grooming you. Seeding you. When you kill them, they will become you. They’ll kick out your souls, or eat them, or whatever, but you’ll just be shells with new occupants. They’ll leave Mictlan, travel to the living world. Once they do that, they can do whatever the hell they want. Probably try to pick up where they left off five hundred years ago. I can tell you there’ll be a lot of blood, a lot of torn out hearts.
“Your sister? She’s dead because they knew it would piss you off and make you come running. All that distrust they’ve been sowing in you? That’s to get you so mad you want to kill them both. They been feeding you this bullshit and you’ve been eatin’ it up.”
“And Tabitha? Did Santa Muerte just promise her life?”
“I doubt it. That girl’s got her head out of her ass more than you ever did. Probably promised she’d be more, do more. Make a difference. Probably showed her what was wrong with Mictlan, told her she could help change it. I figure she went along with it even though it got her hands dirty. Necromancers don’t seem to have problems getting their hands dirty.
“You lot, necromancers, y’all go in one of three different directions. Seeing all that death changes a person. There are the batshit crazy ones, the cynics, and the idealists. I’m not sure if you’re the first or the second, but she’s definitely the third.”
“And why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” I said. “You could have said something when I came to you to ask about Santa Muerte the first time, over a fucking year ago. I came to you when I thought I had to take her deal to get Alex back from Boudreau. Why didn’t you tell me then?”
He put up his hands, trying to calm me. “I couldn’t. I wanted to. I wanted to tell you all about it. I—”
“Bullshit,” I said. “You didn’t tell me because you wanted me to do your fucking dirty work. You didn’t tell me because you knew at some point I’d be here looking to take them out. You couldn’t do it. But you figured I could. Jesus, you’re just as bad as they are.”
“Some folks would say I’m worse.” His eyes took on a dusky, red hue and any thought that he and I were ever friends was gone. He’s not human and it showed. “Point is, it doesn’t change what’s going on one goddamn bit, does it?”
“I can’t kill them, can I?” I refused to agree with him. It was true, but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. “So what do I do?”
“Oh, you can kill ’em. Just not the way you’re thinkin’. But sadly, this is where the narrative stops,” he said. “I can’t tell you what to do. I can nod my head or grunt a negative, but I can’t come out and say it. And no, this isn’t me trying to play you or anything. This is Mictlantecuhtli’s magic. It’s weaker than it was five hundred years ago, or I wouldn’t have been able to tell you this much, but a straight answer? Can’t do it, Chief.”
“Since when have you ever given me a straight answer to begin with?”