Page 3 of Death Raiser

“From the damage to the portion of the skull recovered at the scene, the victim sustained a fatal gunshot wound to the head, though the coroner couldn’t confirm that was the actual cause of death without further analysis,” Kang finally answered. Apparently, he didn’t plan to call me out for trying to avoid another question. “He couldn’t say much more than that. The body was too decomposed. We can’t even officially rule this is a homicide, yet.”

“What makes you think it’s Amy Steele?”

“Identification found in her pocket.” He looked into the forest for a few moments before speaking again. “The timing of the missing persons report matches the level of decay. The autopsy will hopefully confirm the ID by matching dental records.”

I nodded and stepped forward. “Do you have a chicken?”

Raising the dead required power, bones, and blood. A chicken was enough for what I needed to accomplish.

Technically, I could offer my own blood as the sacrifice, but that would send me to the veil—the realm where souls lingered after death. In order to use my own blood safely, I needed an anchor as a way to avoid getting stuck in the veil. I’d exchanged blood with the Master Vampire of Victoria for this exact reason, but the bond grew weaker each day and I didn’t want to rely on Gregor any more than I already did.

Even with a way back to the living realm, though, travelling to the veil held more danger than angry souls and getting stuck. Leviathan, Lord of the Veil, lurked in his castle waiting to pounce for reasons still unknown to me, and there were also barghests to contend with—demonic guard dogs who hated necromancers. I hadn’t met one of those yet, and I wasn’t exactly in a rush to scratch that item off my necromancer bucket list. Going to the veil was risky, if not borderline suicidal.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to go to the veil to raise a spirit. So, I didn’t need to use my own blood as a sacrifice in the foreseeable future, and a chicken would suffice.

To ensure their deaths weren’t meaningless or solely for raising the dead, a local butcher took my sacrificed poultry chickens and sold them to families in need at a reduced rate. I still hated this part of my job, though. I hadn’t lied to Kang. I loved animals. Taking their lives killed something inside me each time.

“Jacobs brought a chicken. He’s been bitching about how it messed up the back of his vehicle again,” Kang said.

“He needs to get a crate,” I said.

“That’s what I keep telling him.”

We shared a smile.

I crouched by the edge of the blanket and lifted the corner. The lingering smell of rot still clinging to the bones rushed out and I quickly dropped the heavy cloth.

“It’s not pleasant,” Jacobs approached with a chicken cradled under his arm.

“Thanks for the heads up,” I said, though his warning was a little too late.

Jacobs winced and handed the chicken to me. After the sacrifice, he’d take the chicken and bag it for me while I spoke to the spirit. We had a pretty good routine. I raised the dead. Jacobs assisted and Kang stood nearby with a sour expression plastered to his handsome face. The important part was not to drop the chicken. If I did, the butcher couldn’t use it, and I’d get yelled at for contaminating the crime scene.

“Is the body cleared for me to handle?” I asked.

“Yes.” Kang stood close to the body. “Do you need to handle it?”

“Hopefully not.” I had a lot of power. If the death was fresh, I didn’t even need the blood to touch the bones to raise the spirit. I only had to be close to the body. The older the remains, however, the more contact I needed to forge a connection. Physically touching the bones and spilling blood on the bones created the strongest bond. Hopefully, I only had to resort to the latter. I preferred to avoid touching the remains.

Kang nodded and knelt to grab the corner of the cloth. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

I pulled a knife from my pocket and unfolded the blade in a well-practiced move. I didn’t often work on bodies with a lot of decomposition because Kang and Jacobs usually got fresher crime scenes. How much worse could this one be? “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Kang grimaced and pulled back the sheet.

My brain misfired, trying to process the mangled remains in front of me. How could this possibly have been a human?

Stomach acid bubbled up my throat and my gut twisted. I swallowed nausea down and took a deep breath.

And instantly regretted it.

“Are you okay?” Kang asked.

I swallowed again and contemplated running over to the bush to throw up. “Never better.”

Kang narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together.

No fooling him. I looked over at Jacobs. “Ready?”

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