Page 202 of Mayhem and Minnie

“But a mummy?” I repeat. “This is unbelievable.”

More unbelievable is the fact that I’m staring Minnie’s dead fiancé right in the face. Sure, he’s a bit dry and well…dead, but this is remarkable nonetheless.

But now another thought plagues me. If he’s so well preserved, what if Minnie decides to keep him and find a way to revive him? She’s a goddess. I’m sure that wouldn’t be too hard for her.

For fuck’s sake. I’m already competing with a dead man’s memory. I don’t need to compete with a fucking undead man. Just thinking about losing to a fucking mummy is unacceptable, and frankly, humiliating.

Seeing as how Lucien is far more whole than I expected, perhaps my plan to build a bonfire out of him and present it to Minnie might not be the best idea.

Or…

“Help me get him out of the box,” I tell Giles.

“Marlowe…” He groans. “He died of tuberculosis, and he’s mummified. Are you sure it’s a good idea to handle the body?”

I wave my hand dismissively. Grabbing two pairs of surgical gloves and two masks, I hand them to Giles to put them on while I do the same.

With some equipment in place, I grab onto Lucien’s shoulders while Giles handles the feet.

“On my count,” I say. “One. Two. Three.”

We raise him up at the same time and move him toward the table.

Yet despite the—quite impressive—mummification, Lucien’s limbs are not held together as well as I would have expected. The weight of the bones and dried muscle presses on the thin layer of skin and one of his arms gets detached from his shoulder.

It falls to the ground with a resounding thud.

Giles and I share a look. He shakes his head at me but continues to help me move the mummy onto the table.

“It’s fine,” I mention as I pick up the fallen arm. “I wasn’t going to leave him whole anyway.”

Because leaving him whole might mean Minnie can resurrect him—of course I don’t know if that’s even possible, but I’m not taking any chances. If I want to ensure my candlelight dinner with the complementary bonfire is a success, Lucien cannot be whole.

He’ll need to be hacked to pieces.

My nose wrinkles in disgust as I realize that with so much skin and dry muscle still attached to the bones, the bonfire will smell rather like…smoked meat.

Ah, the lengths I go to in order to ensure my competition is extinct.

Especially as it appears that the concept of dead and buried might not hold the same power as before since he’s already been dead and buried. And somehow still managed to keep his damn handsome face.

I swear under my breath.

“Giles,” I call out suddenly.

“Yes?” He raises a brow.

“Who’s more handsome? Me or the mummy?”

He blinks. “What?”

“I require an answer. Who’s more handsome? Me or the mummy?” I ask again as I position myself next to the dead man. I crouch lower to put my face next to his so Giles can assess it better.

“Uh…”

“The truth, Giles. I need the truth.”

Being this close to the mummy, I note there’s a musky smell coming off it.

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