We are thrilled to be revealing the cover for Deadbeat Druid, which is the third installment in David R. Slayton’s Adam Binder series. Releasing on October 18th 2022, Deadbeat Druid is available for pre-order at Blackstone Publishing and Amazon.
Now read on to discover the cover, synopsis, AND the first chapter of Deadbeat Druid!
The living cannot be allowed to infect the dead.
Adam Binder has lost what matters most to him. Having finally learned the true identity of the warlock preying on his family, what was supposed to be a final confrontation with the fiend instead became a trap that sent Adam’s beloved Vicente into the realm of the dead, where none living are meant to be.
Bound by debt, oath, and love, Adam blazes his own trail into the underworld to get Vicente back, and to end the threat of the warlock once and for all. But the road to hell is paved with far more than good intentions. Demons are hungry, and ghosts are relentless, and what awaits Adam in the underworld is nothing he is prepared to face.
If that weren’t enough, Adam has one more thing he must do if he and Vicente are to return to world of the living: find the lost heart of Death herself.
CHAPTER 1
Adam
Death looked up from beneath a broad sun hat. Like she needed it. As if anything in the cosmos could touch her.
“Adam Lee Binder,” she said in a thick southern drawl. “As I live and breathe.”
“Do you?” he asked. “Live and breathe, I mean.”
She shrugged. He hadn’t expected her to answer. She liked her games, but Adam was in no mood for them.
Still, the situation called for caution. He had no help here, no backup, and not nearly enough magic.
All he had for guidance were the wounds in his heart. The first, the thread connecting him to Vic, thrummed faintly, stretched to its limit. The ache was a relief, to know it was there, that Vic was still alive, even if Adam did not know where he’d fallen.
The other, Adam’s warlock wound, the piece of his soul he’d carved out to stop Mercy, pained him, whispering of danger as he approached the beaten Airstream trailer and the smiling Black woman sitting in a rocking chair in front of it.
“I don’t know what to call you now,” Adam said.
“I always liked Sara if you want to stick with that.”
The elf shadowing Adam said nothing, showing himself to be a little smarter than Adam had expected.
An immortal in what they’d consider their late teens, Vran was an emo chaos monkey, prone to tricks and sarcasm. Adam was glad he knew when to keep quiet.
Always cordial, Sara played the part of a charming, southern witch. She laughed easily, but she was the most powerful being Adam had ever met. Subtle and sneaky, she’d planned for him to kill his brother.
It hadn’t worked out that way. Sara had gotten her wish—an end to Mercy—but it had cost Annie, Adam’s sister-in-law, her life.
Sara had left the Binder family alone in the brief time since, but Adam knew better than to trust her.
Still, she was the one power who might be willing to help him… for a price.
“I guess you know why I’m here,” he said.
“Vicente,” she said.
“Vicente,” Adam echoed. “Vic.”
Sara stopped her rocking. She leaned forward as she spoke.
“It’s dangerous, what you want to do, what you want to know.”
“I don’t care,” Adam said.
Vran flinched from where he stood to the side, but Adam meant it. He’d go anywhere. Do anything. Whatever it took to get Vic back.
“Where is he?” Adam asked.
“Your elven king didn’t know?” Sara asked.
Adam had tried Silver first. The elves were the power he knew best, but his newly crowned ex had said no, because of course he had.
“You already know he doesn’t,” Adam said.
“True, but I suspect he has a clue and that’s why he turned you down.”
Her words put spikes of red and blue in Adam’s chest. Silver had said no. Adam had reacted badly. He wasn’t certain the trust between them would ever recover after that exchange.
“I’m not here to talk about Silver,” Adam said.
“Too bad, you missed quite a show,” Sara said. “The passing of an immortal crown is a rare sight.”
“His father is dead?” Adam asked.
“I reaped him myself.” Sara shuffled out of her chair and opened the trailer door behind her. “Come on, then. You too, Vran.”
The elf flicked his blue-black eyes side to side, between the trailer door and the field of Reapers behind them. They stood frozen, watching the exchange between Adam and their mistress. That was odd. He’d never seen them not working, bent to their task of taking souls in the field of sunflowers that surrounded her trailer.
Sara seemed fine, but something pricked the edge of Adam’s senses, that place beneath the surface where his Sight ran. Adam opened himself to it, risked trying to sense the Reapers’ mood. He got a bit of static from them, like the crackle and hum of an old TV. He read it as agitation, a worry directed at their mistress.
“She knows my name?” Vran asked, interrupting, which was likely for the best.
Adam would be an idiot to pry too deeply into Death’s affairs. He just wished she’d leave him out of them.
“She knows everyone’s name,” Adam said.
The wink Death shot them was not reassuring.
With a swallow and a duck of his head, Vran followed her inside the trailer. Adam went last, closing the door behind him.
It wasn’t a trailer. It never was.
They stood in a field of grass. It had been somewhere once, probably in the 1950s. Immortals were nostalgic, obsessed with the past, and Death was the oldest of them all.
The giant screen was time-stained and punched with holes. Torn strips fluttered in the breeze. Across the field were steel posts, some with old boxes hanging from them. It looked sad and sort of lonesome in the starlight.
“A drive-in?” Adam asked.
“Oh, this place was hopping once,” Sara said. “Teenagers in cars as far as the eye could see.”
“I’m guessing they only showed horror movies?” Vran asked, eyeing the encroaching scrub oak.
“What’s with the kid?” Death asked Adam.
“He’s a friend,” Adam said, being honest. Vran had saved his life. That counted for something. “Please don’t, you know, destroy him or anything.”
“No promises,” she said.
Vran stiffened.
“She’s kidding,” Adam said. “I think.”
He took a few steps toward the elf just in case.
Death turned and waved her hand. A projector whirred and the screen came to life.
What appeared was a spiral, a pattern, like one of those construction paper mobiles you made as a kid, cutting a circle carefully inward then hanging from a string.
A helpful “You Are Here” arrow appeared with a red dot in the middle. The lens zoomed in.
The spirit realm was labeled, just above the dot on the spiral. Above that was Alfheimr and dozens of other places, realms with names Adam couldn’t pronounce or had never heard of. The spiral wound upward, but the picture turned grainy, obscuring what lay high above them.
“You’re only going upward a little,” Adam said.
“Well, I can’t show you everything,” she said with a wink. “Rules and all that.”
Yes, the rules. Everything in magic, in the universe, especially Death herself, was bound by rules. Adam had no idea who or what wrote or enforced them, but they were powerful enough that Sara obeyed them. He didn’t want to know who or what could bend her to their will.
One rule he knew was that nothing came for free. He’d owe her for the knowledge she’d impart.
Adam took a breath, gestured to the screen, and asked, “So where is he?”
The spiral turned, the camera descended, and the bottom fell out of Adam’s already churning
stomach.
It dropped and dropped, passed names like Gehenna and Tartarus, finally stopping on a dark spot.
“The Black Sea,” she said. “Little light has ever reached it.”
“I’m guessing we’re not talking about somewhere in Europe?” Adam asked.
“It’s at the bottom, one of the lowest underworlds,” she said. “The final stop before you sink.”
“I can swim,” Vran said.
“You’re not coming,” Adam snapped over his shoulder. He took a long breath and softened his tone. “It’s too dangerous, Vran. I’m going alone.”
Death eyed the two of them like they amused her, like they were funny children.
An unpleasant heat filled Adam.
Vic was lost. She should care about that. He was her Reaper. He worked for her, never mind that she’d seen the death of stars and empires.
Vic should mean something to her.
He meant everything to Adam.
“So, open a door,” Adam said. “I’ll pay whatever you ask.”
It didn’t matter what he could afford. The price could never be too high, not for Vic.
Vran gasped.
“I can’t send you there,” Sara said, her smile turning sad.
“Can’t or won’t?”
Adam knew he was pushing his luck, but this was Vic’s life on the line. A life Adam wanted to spend with him. He wouldn’t leave him in some hell.
“Can’t,” she stressed. “I’m sorry.”
Adam squeezed his eyes shut, took a breath, and considered the situation.
“What’s there?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I can’t see there, cannot go there.”
Adam stiffened. He wasn’t used to powers admitting their limitations. He knew it should frighten him, but another concern bubbled up, breaking through the anger and the worry.
“Vic didn’t open that portal by himself,” Adam said. “He couldn’t have.”
“So?” she asked.
Cold settled over Adam’s shoulders at the realization.
“What do you want?” he asked. “You told me where he is without setting a price. What’s down there you want me to fetch back for you?”
Sara grinned.
“Not what,” she said. “There’s a living girl down there, as alive as Vicente. Bring her back to me.”
“I’m guessing you don’t mean Jodi.”
Adam’s cousin had pushed Vic in and fallen with him.
Sara shook her head.
“Who is she?” he asked.
“Her name is Melody. Mel,” Sara said gently.
Adam shook with a rage he could not express. She could destroy him with a flick and worse, he needed her. She’d set him up. Again. And he’d fallen for it. Again.
“You meant for this to happen,” he said, keeping his voice as calm as he could.
“I meant for your great-grandfather to fall. And for you and Vicente to hunt him down, or have you forgotten your binding promise to the leprechauns?”
Adam had actually, though he didn’t want to admit it. Vic was the most, the only, important thing.
Enough had happened since they’d killed Mercy that his binding promise to end the dark druid, the other warlock, otherwise known as his great-grandfather John, had slipped down Adam’s list of priorities.
“Free will,” Sara said with a sigh. “With it, nothing ever goes according to plan.”
Adam nibbled his lip. He didn’t think she was lying, not that he could accuse her and count on his survival. She needed him for this, but that didn’t mean she’d need him forever. After all, John had been one of her tools once.
“You really can’t get me there?” he asked.
“It’s a hell, Adam Lee. It’s very personal.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you have to get there on your own, especially since Vicente isn’t here to help you open the way.”
“I’m not asking the right questions, am I?”
She shook her head.
That was always the key with immortals, with Silver, his sister Argent, with any of them. It was always a game, but they hadn’t made the rules so they couldn’t simply tell you. Everything was a transaction, every conversation a chess match.
Looking back to the screen, to the top of the spiral that he couldn’t see, Adam decided he’d changed his mind. He’d really like to find out who’d made the rules. He’d like a word with upper management.
Adam took a long breath and a longer moment to calm the shaking and spinning in his guts.
“You’re not going to tell me why Mel’s so important, are you?” Adam asked.
Sara shook her head.
“But she is important,” Adam said. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have set this all up. Revealing yourself to everyone, to me and Vic. It was never just about Mercy.”
“You never were dumb, Adam Lee. Mercy was part of it. The King of the Elves was part of it. I am doing what I am meant to do, protect the natural order.”
Wheels turned in his head as she spoke.
He’d ask her what else she wasn’t telling him but knew she’d never spill.
“Why us?” he asked, feeling certain he and Vic were part of it.
“You’re special,” she said. “A warlock made at the cost of his own soul and bound to a Reaper. It is an entirely new combination. Even I haven’t seen it before. I think that maybe, Adam Lee, you could pull it off.”
“I appreciate your confidence. But you could have asked.”
“No,” she said. “I really couldn’t.”
“More rules?”
“Because you might have said no.”
Adam pursed his lips. He could at least appreciate her honesty.
“Aight,” he said. “Two birds, one stone.”
“Three,” Vran said, counting them off on his fingers. “Vic, Mel, and the warlock.”
“Four,” Adam grumbled. “Jodi.”
Adam couldn’t leave her there, as much as he might be tempted. She’d thrown Bobby to the warlock—the other warlock—in a trade for her own life. Vic and Adam had rode to the rescue.
Sara must have seen the temptation on his face. “The living cannot be left among the dead, Get them out of there, Adam. All of them.”
“And if John isn’t alive when we leave?” Adam asked.
“Can you kill him?” Death asked.
“You think being in hell would be enough,” Adam muttered.
“Always read the fine print. Can you do it?” Sara asked again.
“Done it before,” he said with a shrug and a hardness he didn’t really feel.
He knew better than to show weakness here, but the memory, putting arrows into Annie, into Bobby’s wife, who’d always been kind to him—even if she’d been possessed, even if her mind were gone—the memory filled him with something blue and yellow, something sallow and sick.
Adam had shot her to bind the spirit, Mercy, to her body. Then they’d killed her so Death could reap it.
John was something else, something terrible and evil. He’d tortured magical creatures, sentient beings, to power charms. He’d killed his offspring, draining their life to unnaturally prolong his own. But still, he was alive.
He’d tried to kill Bobby, Adam’s brother, to continue the cycle. When Adam had tried to stop him, John had sliced open Adam’s chest, forcing Vic to try something he never should have. Jodi had played her part, but it was John’s fault Vic had fallen, that they were in this position.
So yeah, Adam tried to tell himself. He could do it.
Perhaps, just this once, he’d even be okay with using a gun.
“So how do we get there?” Vran asked.
“You’re not coming, remember?” Adam said. He turned back to Sara. “If you can’t send me, where do I start?”
Humming, she rocked on her heels and looked to the movie screen.
“You have to find your own door. Your own way.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.
“Like I said, it’s personal. Find hell, find where it exists for you.”
Adam turned and started walking back to where the open trailer door hung in space, leaking the green light of the spirit realm.
“Oh, and Adam Lee,” Sara said, drawing him back around. “It’s a long road. Take the car. Get them all out. The living cannot be allowed to infect the dead.”
It wasn’t like her to repeat herself. There was something in her eye, a spark, a warning, or a worry.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said before stepping through the door.
“What does she mean?” Vran asked, keeping up.
“She means I have to go back,” Adam said.
“But where?” Vran stressed, hurrying as Adam walked past the stilled Reapers to the Hanging Tree, where crows roosted and old corpses hung, their eyes following Adam as he approached.
“The last place I want to,” Adam said quietly, knowing Vran’s elven hearing would pick it up.
He didn’t name it, didn’t want Vran tagging along, and hoped to deter him.
Adam shook himself, pulled himself back to his body in the hospital. He could leave. He’d been healed, though he’d always have the scar John had given him, a long slash across his chest. In a way it fit, matching the wound inside him, the warlock ache.
He had to get out of here. Adam sat up, started feeling for the leads and tubes.
“Whoa. Whoa,” a voice said. Bobby. “What’s going on?”
“Got to go,” Adam said. “Where are my clothes?”
“Adam, go where?”
“Liberty House,” he said with a long exhale. “I have to go back to Liberty House.”
