Prologue

They were “Voodoo” roses.

At least, that was the name on the tag when Anna Cooper saw the plants in the nursery. According to the picture, they were orange with yellow accents. She thought the name was a little over-the-top, a little silly. But when they’d bloomed, the name seemed justified—each one a glorious tiny sunset. Almost magical.

Anna loved her Voodoo roses. Whenever she caught sight of them, they filled her heart with joy. Perhaps that was why she’d forgotten they were not only beautiful. They were also vicious.

She was cutting one to place on the nightstand by her dying husband’s bed, and as she’d taken hold of the stem, she felt an unseen thorn bite into her finger.

It had been more surprising than painful. Anna looked at the wound. The cut wasn’t deep, just breaking the skin. It had bled a bit, and she pinched her thumb and finger together to stop the bleeding, which happened quickly. Anna thought it had stopped when she walked up her front steps from the rose bushes growing under the front windows of their small three-bedroom home. And when she opened the screen door and stepped inside, she’d absently put her finger on the doorframe.

She soon forgot about it, having no clue how much it would change her life.

Nor did she know how it would change the end of her husband’s life.

Nor the life of her son Malcolm, who would be born three years later.

Without knowing it, Anna’s finger left a tiny spot of blood on the frame. It was all but unnoticeable. And Anna had gone in and out of the door several times that day before she noticed the red-black dot later that afternoon. By then, it had dried, and she wiped off what she could see with a damp paper towel. Nonetheless, some of the blood had remained. It was more the idea of the blood than the actual blood itself. But the idea of blood was enough. Because when the angel of death came to take her dying husband two weeks later, the blood smeared on the doorway had stopped him.

Anna Cooper was a firstborn, and the blood of a firstborn on the doorway of a mortal’s home had prevented Death from entering for centuries. It was a fact that had been forgotten by most people. And to be honest, most people didn’t need a messenger from the next world to tell them their time was up. Most, when they saw what waited for them on the other side, were glad to go. But blood on a doorway was a symbol the Ushers of Death had never forgotten. In fact, they couldn’t forget it, because a home that had been marked with blood was sealed to them—locked tight as a bank vault, and only the permission of the owner would allow them to fulfill their duty.

The Usher who came for Daniel Cooper was named Orestes. He was tall and quiet, with dark eyes that never seemed to look away once they fixed on you. That’s what Anna had thought when she answered the door. There was an impatience in his manner. And while he was very deliberate in what he said, Anna sensed an urgency hidden behind it, as if his visit was one of many he needed to make that day.

He had asked if he could come in—that was all he needed, really—permission. But there was something about him that Anna didn’t quite like. And rather than agreeing and inviting him in, she asked, “What can I help you with?”

“I’m... I’d like to speak to your husband for a moment, if that’s all right,” he said.

“About what?” Anna asked.

“About...” he paused. “I’m an old friend. I was in the area, and I hoped we could catch up. That’s all.”

She thought for a moment about going into their bedroom and shaking Daniel’s shoulder to wake him. She thought about him opening his tired eyes and seeing the pain in them that he tried his best to hide.

No. It wasn’t going to happen.

“I’m sorry, Daniel’s not feeling well today,” she said. “He’s asleep—it’s difficult for him to sleep, so I really don’t like to wake him once he finally nods off.”

“I see. I...” he stopped, thinking. He had come to take Daniel Cooper through the grayness of Penumbra to The Beyond, but this woman was standing in the way.

Again, he looked at Anna.

And again, Anna didn’t much care for the way he looked at her. Beyond the urgency, she now sensed something else. A coldness? No, that wasn’t quite it. A caginess? No, that wasn’t it either. But beyond the unpleasantness she saw in Orestes’ dark eyes, there was a sense of authority, of self-importance, as if Anna had no right to refuse him.

But Anna had always been of her own mind, and the look in this stranger’s eyes only made her more convinced that refusing him was the right thing to do. He looked away again, thinking... again. He looked back once more.

“It’s important that I see him,” he said. “I won’t wake him. He won’t even know I’m there.”

“No,” Anna said, surprised at the firmness in her voice. Who was this man? What kind of nut was he? Was he dangerous? No, she didn’t think so. She was safe enough... as long as she didn’t give him permission to come in. Anyway, that’s how it felt.

“If you’d like to leave him a card or a note or something, I can give it to him when he wakes up,” she said.

His dark eyes flashed just the slightest bit. Anger? Definitely.

“That’s very kind of you,” he said, his voice smooth. He almost smiled. “Could I come in and jot down a quick ‘hello’ to him?”

Anna stared at the stranger. They both knew what was going on. He wasn’t going to write any note. He just wanted to come inside.

But that was crazy, Anna thought. If he really wanted to come in, he could just push his way past her. He was certainly strong enough, and there was no one around to stop him.

“No,” she thought. He had to have permission to come inside—like one of those old vampire movies. But that was stupid. There was no such thing as vampires...

And it was broad daylight, a fact that she was embarrassed to find comforting. But it did.

“Just a minute,” Anna said, trying to make it sound casual.

Then she crossed to the kitchen counter. She picked up a notepad and grabbed a pen from the pencil holder by the bulletin board on the wall next to the window. She crossed back and handed them to the stranger.

Orestes looked at her outstretched hand a moment. He looked at her again. Was he taking her measure? She stared back. She wasn’t going to give this guy anything that he could consider a victory.

“Maybe it would be better if I came back,” he said. He smiled, but it was a cold, lifeless smile. That was the word, “lifeless.” That’s what she’d seen in his eyes. This man, though he stood talking in front of her, might as well have been dead. Now that she’d identified it, it was so obvious. This man felt nothing, and this whole encounter was a pretense. Still, it was a pretense that had rules. And the one rule Anna was sure of was that whatever he’d come to her home to get, he needed her permission to get it.

“Great,” she said, and smiled. She felt a catty satisfaction as she said so. And he saw it.

“I’ll stop by again the next time I’m in town,” he said.

“You’re not from around here?” Anna asked. She already knew the answer.

He looked at her a moment.

“No,” he said and turned and began walking down the sidewalk.

“What’s your name?” she called after him. “I’ll tell Dan you stopped by.”

He turned back. “Orestes,” he said, and stared at her again, this time a moment longer. He then turned again and left.