Page 22 of Necromancers Don't Raise

I waited expectantly, then prodded him when he didn’t say anything else. “What kind of business? In fact, what is your business? Maybe you could employ me. I’m very good with numbers.”

“They call me, ‘The Dealer.’”

I studied him curiously. “Drug dealer? You did offer to make me a draught.”

“Antiquities. As in ancient artifacts that are bought, bartered, or obtained in other more strenuous ways.”

“And Philip wanted some art from you? That sounds like him. He has extremely good taste in spite of being so respectable.”

“Yes, he wanted some art from me.”

“What piece was it? Maybe I know it.”

“You don’t know it, because I wouldn’t sell.”

“Oh. Why not? Did someone else buy it out from under him? How shocking that anyone else would dare.”

“I still have it in my collection. At any rate, I highly doubt that Philip has anything to gain from your death or any of the other gems.”

“No, but if he went to the hotel, then he has facts I don’t.” I eyed him where he glowered back at me, so suspiciously while he held the untouched plate. “You could offer him the art, get him alone, and then I could interrogate him. I’m part goblin, so I’m sure my methods would be extremely effective.” My incredibly persuasive speech was interrupted by my stomach rumbling. I put my hand on it while he raised a brow, then looked down at the plate.

“Can I have a cookie?” I asked sweetly.

He put the entire thing on his desk in front of me. “You can have all the cookies, all the sandwiches, and all the tea. It is all for you. I forgot, again, about the eating. You are insatiable.”

I snickered and took a drink of the lukewarm tea. “That’s what they say, Insatiable Nova, the live girl. Well, what do you think about getting Philip alone to question him?”

“I think that I’m the last person he’d answer to. And you with this face wouldn’t be recognizable, would it?” His words softened at the end, like he didn’t want to hurt my feelings.

My feelings were hurt anyway, because he was right. I was unrecognizably grotesque now. Philip wouldn’t treat me like a princess ever again. I started picking apart a sandwich out of nerves, but I didn’t burst into tears. “Then what do you suggest?”

“Other than moving onto another suspect and finding a different angle? He’ll be at the memorial along with a vast array of her worshippers. You could ask questions there. Claim to have worked for her, in her fashion or humanitarian branches.”

Because I wouldn’t have been fit to be in any other place in the Clarence corporation. I stopped trying to smile. I just nodded and stuffed the sandwich in my mouth. Cucumbers and tuna with a hint of lemongrass. Lovely. I’d have to find out what tea shop he’d ordered these things from. Not that I could order anything on my own.

I chewed, swallowed, and then smiled brightly. “Perfect! And how convenient that all the armored goblin gear is black. I’m sure I’ll fit right in.”

“Very well. I’ll tell Bones to wash the car.”

I grabbed his hand as he moved away, holding tight while my heart pounded so painfully. It hurt to be alive, to feel all these things, to have connections dangling and torn that had been severed. My fingers could grow back, but my old life was ashes.

“Miss Nova?” he asked, voice barely a murmur, but with so much compassion. I shivered before I released his hand and smiled up at him, shaking my head.

“It’s nothing, just…thank you. For everything.”

Chapter

Seven

“Are you certain you wish to do this?” Mercury asked as we settled into the backseat, Bones at the wheel.

I hesitated and then grabbed his hand. “Yes, but do you mind? Your hand helps, and you haven’t hugged me for ages.”

He squeezed me gently back. “I think you sitting on my chair with me counted as hugging.”

“It did not.”

“I think it did.”

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