Page 25 of Deader than Dead

“I’m a necromancer.”

He rocked back in his seat. Whatever he’d been expecting me to say, it clearly wasn’t that. “A what?”

He must have had some idea what it was to have had the reaction he’d had. “I bring people back from the dead.” I studied him, waiting to see whether he would put two and two together.

“Huh!” He was silent for a moment. “How does that work?”

“There’s a period after people die where their soul can be returned to their bodies by someone who can communicate with people beyond the veil. I have that ability. I was born with it.”

Bellamy frowned. “And what, they just carry on with their lives again?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s temporary. It usually lasts for only a couple of hours. People want a chance to say things they didn’t get to say before their loved one died.” I grimaced. “Or they want information. We’re not meant to cater to those people, but there’s been more and more slipping through the cracks lately.”

“What’s this got to do with me?”

I stared at him. Bellamy stared back. I thought he’d work it out once I detailed what it was I did. “The ritual to bring someone back... It’s facilitated by drawing an ancient sigil using my blood.”

“Where?” Signs of strain had crept into Bellamy’s voice and posture.

“Above the heart. It centers the magic on getting it started again.”

Bellamy got out of his seat and paced. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

I grabbed his hand as he passed and pulled him back into the seat, his fingers trembling beneath mine as I leaned forward. “I’m sorry.”

When Bellamy raised his head, those beautiful green eyes of his were swimming with tears. “I’m dead. Is that what you’re saying?”

“It’s not as simple as that.” Over the next few minutes, I walked him through the events of the previous day, starting with my arrival at the unsavory headquarters of the mysterious O’Reilly, and ending with Bellamy turning up on my doorstep. “So… you see, nothing makes sense. Why it didn’t work, and then it did… Why you’re still alive this morning.” I squeezed his hand tighter. “I’m glad you’re alive, but that doesn’t mean I can make any sense out of it.”

Bellamy dashed at his face with the back of his hand to wipe away any stray tears. Sitting up straighter, he pulled his T-shirt up the same way I had earlier and stared at his chest. I reached over to press a hand against his bare skin, reveling in the solid thud of his heart beneath my palm.

“Do you think I might suddenly drop dead?” Bellamy asked.

“No,” I answered honestly. “Whatever’s happened, I think it’s permanent.”

Bellamy let his T-shirt drop and nodded. “Good. Because I’m not ready to go yet.”

I left my hand on Bellamy’s chest for a few more seconds to enjoy the solid throb of a heartbeat that shouldn’t exist before reluctantly extracting it. “Why were you there, Bellamy? How did you die?”

A pained expression settled on Bellamy’s face. “I don’t want to tell you.”

“Why?”

“Because… you’ll think less of me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I argued. “This bond we share, the thing that brought you to me last night, the thing that had us in bed together within hours of meeting, won’t go away no matter what you tell me. You’re it for me.”

Bellamy smiled. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is. For me, anyway. Necromancers have a perfect match. I’ve been looking for that match for years. Looking for you. It might sound crazy, but—“

“It doesn’t. I feel the same.” Bellamy’s green eyes locked onto me, full of softness, full of… love. “I just wish I was a better person for you.”

“Tell me,” I urged. “However bad it is, I can take it.”

“I’m a thief for hire,” Bellamy stated with little preamble. “Antiques specialist is an inside joke. I know a lot about certain items, but it’s usually where to find them and how to obtain them without someone catching me red-handed, rather than anything to do with their historical significance.”

“I see.” I gave myself a moment to digest the fact that we were on opposite sides of the law. “Who do you steal for?”

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