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Deader Still
(The second book in the Simon Canderous series)
Anton Strout
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First and foremost, this book is to you, my readerly little friends. Perhaps you’ve just picked me up for the first time. Maybe you are part of the Undead Approved, who have already read Dead to Me. Whatever way you came to this book, thanks for being here. The adventures of Simon Canderous are nothing without you, and for that you have my sincere and deepest appreciation. Welcome aboard; thanks for joining us. Tell your friends. Say hi to your mother for me.
As for the rest of my hive of scum and villainy? It’s time to thank them. Hold your applause to the end, please. My personal kudos are extended to: my wife, Orly, whose patience and love are infinite; my family—those by blood and those by association; Jessica Wade, the editor whose verbosity makes my inanity palatable; superagent Kristine Dahl and Laura Neely at ICM, who put up with my authorly neuroses; copy editor Jessica McDo
And finally, a special shout-out to all of the various departments at Penguin Group (USA) Inc. that make this book look as pretty as it does, especially my friends and colleagues in the paperback sales department who keep me humble and—more importantly—on bookshelves everywhere. Your names are legion, for you are many.
Revenge is a dish best served . . . erk!
1
“Watch out for the elves, Simon,” Co
He pulled me to my left, allowing me to narrowly avoid two “elves.” One wore glasses with black Buddy Holly frames, and the other couldn’t have been more than five feet tall.
“Lothlorien sure ain’t making ’em like they used to,” I said.
“Welcome to New York Comic Con, kid.”
“Nerdtacular,” I said. All walks of life crowded the hangarlike convention hall. The giant glass structure of the Javits Center on Manhattan ’s west side looked like it had been conjured straight out of a futuristic fantasy world.
“Would you rather be back at our desks at the Department of Extraordinary Affairs?” Co
“Lower your voice,” I said, looking around.
“Relax,” Co
Co
“Even so,” I said, “I’d prefer it if you kept it down about the D.E.A.”
Co
Very few people turned to look at us. A few woots rose out of the crowd, and when I turned to look we were being cheered on by a group of guys dressed as Ghostbusters, pumping the business ends of their proton packs in the air.
“See?” he said. “Now don’t tell me you’d rather be in the office . . .”
I thought of the pile of paperwork waiting for me—ghost sightings, zombie infestations, demons rollicking through hipster bars out in Williamsburg, the usual.
“Actually, this freak show is looking pretty good to me right now.” I held up my writing hand and flexed it, hearing it pop and crack as I did so. “Besides, if I have to fill out another form in triplicate, I think my hand will fall off. And not in the cool, zombie-rotting way, either . . .”
Co
“Great,” I said. “That should help me stay focused today.”
“Just relax,” he said. “Every agent’s been put through the Oubliette.”
“And passed it?”
“Well,” Co
“I don’t want that to be me,” I said, feeling my nerves rising. I’d joined the New York Department of Extraordinary Affairs seven months ago. I was blessed (or cursed) with psychometry, the ability to touch an object and divine information about its past, so getting the job had turned a power that had ruined many a relationship and been a major burden into a highlight of my résumé. Co
“Relax,” Co
“Easy to say for someone who passed it years ago and actually got to test on the Oubliette the Department owns.”
“Owned,” Co
“Well, who am I to argue with the director of Other Division?”
“And don’t forget he’s your superior in the Fraternal Order of Goodness,” Co
I noted the hint of bitterness in Co
“Hey,” I said. “I was just as surprised as you were when I got their letter adopting me into their ranks. Their initiation felt like a cross between a toga party and the Skull and Bones society.”
Co