Page 23 of Necromancers Don't Raise

“Hmph.”

His eyes gleamed, but his face was passive. “Are you telling me that you’re secretly French, Miss Nova?”

“I’m telling you that your hugging know-how is deplorable.”

I tapped my leather pants leg with my unoccupied hand. I’d been taught not to fidget, but I was going to my own funeral. My parents would be there. No, not funeral, memorial. What if I had to talk to my mother and burst into tears, and somehow she knew, and…What would she do? She’d set me up with a new ID and a bank account, but she’d look at me with those sharp,analytical eyes and take in every flaw, every sign and proof that I wasn’t good enough for the company, for my name.

He covered my twitching hand with his. “If you wish to leave at any point, we’ll go. If you don’t wish to go in, we’ll stay out. I have many spies that I can use to find out whatever information we need.”

I nodded and closed my eyes. Bones turned on the radio and classical piano poured out of the stereo, wrapping me in peace and comfort, similar to what I felt with his hand around mine.

When the car stopped, I straightened up and gave Mercury a confident smile. “Be sure to eat the refreshments. Most of the people here are on a starvation diet, so the excellent catering will be wasted.” How strange to say out loud the things I’d always thought and kept to myself.

He pursed his sultry lips. “Surely it will be donated to one of the shelters.” He made even that sound suggestive.

I smiled brightly and then got out to stand at the bottom of the steps of the large stone hall, an official government building in Apple City that was used for political rallies much more often than funerals. My mother was making this a state event then. Maybe she’d use this devastation to catapult her into the mayor’s office.

Mercury stopped beside me and held out his arm. “Shall we?”

I swallowed and nodded, but I didn’t take his arm. I just walked beside him, hunched into myself, trying not to be seen with my bald head and crooked mouth. Mercury fell in beside me as we walked up the broad stone steps towards the tall pillars that were bedecked in large swags in my signature blue. That’s the color my contacts had been, the color of most of my wardrobe. It was an extremely impactful statement, all that blue, all that death. My memory would live on forever, eternal youth preserved in my untimely death, and wrapped in a big blue bow, like the enormous buntings we had to pass under.

I grabbed Mercury’s arm, already feeling like this was the worst idea I’d ever had. “You should have worn one of Bones’s suits,” I said, smiling up at him. “I’m sure he has at least a few blue ones.”

“Hmph. Indeed. Next time I go to a funeral, I’ll be certain to dress more festively.” His words were terse. Did he disapprove of blue over black? It wasn’t traditional, but it made a stirring statement.

“Indeed. One should always celebrate the dead. They are, after all, far preferable to the living.”

He glanced at me, slight amusement in the curve of his lips, and then we reached the entrance. He had his mask of cold indifference in place, but I could see the rising irritation as we walked amidst the crowds of well-dressed influencers. I flinched when my laughing voice cut through the air, but when I looked up, it was only the recording hanging on the wall, the massive screen showing me visiting sick children at the nicest hospital for a photo op. Ah. She was making me a saint now that I was dead. It was impressive to see my mother’s refusal to ever miss an opportunity in action. Also depressing. Fine, mostly depressing. I guess it was good to be useful to the company, even in death.

The walls were plastered with screens showing me in various states of perfection. No one could be so perfect, but I had been glaringly, painfully perfect, and now all of that was on display for the world to see. Every one of those outfits would become a bestseller.

I gripped Mercury’s arm tighter while he walked with purpose, not distracted by the images of the most beautiful woman in the world. When we reached the line for those waiting to offer their condolences, the people ahead of us parted, like they knew a dark sorcerer when they saw one and wanted nothing to do with him. In other words, I had no time to chatanyone up or ask any telling questions. Not that I seemed to be capable of doing anything other than letting Mercury pull me along. I wasn’t ready for this, not emotionally, not mentally, not at all. My heart pounded too fast, and I was having a hard time catching my breath.

My lips trembled as we got closer and closer to my parents, who stood next to the largest display of my life, a full-size statue that they’d commissioned for the country house garden. They’d dragged it here? It made Mercury’s words, calling the people here my ‘worshippers,’ too poignant. My mother was pushing me past saint and into the pantheon. This really was too much, not subtle or understated at all. But think of the profits.

When we reached the platform where my parents greeted guests and accepted condolences, my stomach was twisted and tangled with nausea, and that was before I saw Philip standing past my mother in the line. His handsomeness was a physical shock. I found Mercury attractive and dangerous, but Philip was an absolute prince that glowed in the light, from his eyes to his golden hair, just glowed. He’d been nominated as sexiest man in the world more times than I could count, and looking at him objectively, knowing that I wasn’t anywhere close to his sphere of beauty and charm, I was slightly in awe that he had been mine. Of course, I’d been a saint, and a diamond, and an heiress, so we’d matched.

He looked grief stricken, but still perfect from the glittering teeth to the dark blue suit he wore to show that he was almost sad enough to use black. He had no circles under his eyes, no traces of suffering other than a slight tightening on the edges of his mouth. I couldn’t read him. I’d never been able to read much past my fiancé’s surface.

Could he possibly be responsible for the gruesome murder of me and my friends, not to mention the others who had died in the fire? What was he doing at the hotel before the conference?Did he know I was in Singsong City? Who else would have known? I needed to talk to him, but he was so far above me. I was the ugly duckling amidst a herd of swans, when I’d used to be the loveliest swan of all.

He met my gaze, and I realized that I’d been staring. By the way he smiled, I knew that he was giving me a polite rejection, because he was still in love with his dead fiancé and couldn’t possibly consider anything else until his poor heart mended. I looked away, stomach churning.

“Monsieur Mercury, thank you for coming,” my father said in his most obsequious voice as he took Mercury’s hand and shook it with both of his.

“What happened to your daughter is a tragedy,” Mercury said coldly, lacking all the compassion you’d expect to get from someone attending a funeral service. My father knew Mercury. Wait, Monsieur Mercury? I was right about him being French!

I stepped on his foot, and he glanced at me.

“May I introduce my companion, Miss Nova?” he said.

No, that’s not why I stepped on his foot. The last thing I wanted was for my dad to look at me, eyes dull with grief, my own tears welling up as I stared at him.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I choked out.

He patted my shoulder and pulled out a tissue to dab at his moist eyes. “They say the pain lessens with time.”

My mother stepped forward, and I stiffened up, prepared for her polite smile and thanks. She looked just strained enough without actually diminishing the appeal of her perfection. Instead of politeness, to my absolute shock, she gave Mercury a look of contempt that made my stomach drop into my toes. My poor stomach.

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