Page 7 of Necromancers Don't Raise

I nodded. If he had drugs better than aspirin…

He moved much faster than I expected, striking me across the temple and knocking me out cold.

The next time I woke up, the pain was a dull throb, but my headache wasn’t any better. I took my time to open my eyes, mostly because they were sticky. After I pried my eyes open, I looked around the lab, relieved to see the necromancer seated behind his desk, studying a chart he held with one hand, and with the other made arcane marks in the air that hung there,black, shivering before they disappeared into nothing. Arcane arts were terrifying, absolutely, but at the same time, there was something beautiful about the effortless way he created something so complex. He controlled so many things that I couldn’t begin to understand, but he took the time to rescue dead girls from the dark and the cold.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” he said, keeping his focus on the work, but still noticing me.

I self-consciously rubbed my face, adjusted my robe, and checked my hand. The damaged fingers were an inch shorter than they’d been before they got cut off, but they’d regrown miraculously. I stretched and curled my fingers, aware of the ache in them because most of my body had settled down to a dull throb instead of screaming agony. I was regenerating very well.

Mercury finally put down his paper and stood, waving a hand to banish all the marks that had remained in the air. He adjusted his cuffs before he walked around his desk, avoiding the star in the center of the room as he approached me. Was he nervous? He wasn’t looking at me. Did something happen to make me even more hideous? Had my eyeballs fallen out of my skull or something even more grotesque?

When he reached the side of my bed, he finally looked at me with resolve, like it was difficult for him to meet my eyes. I wanted to check to make sure they were still okay, but I’d been taught not to fidget or show any self-consciousness when you were being judged. I only stared back at him, noticing his close shave, his fresh haircut that left it falling across his forehead in an elegant sweep while his immaculate suit was tailored perfectly to showcase his broad shoulders. He must have gone to an important dark sorcerer’s meeting while he’d been out. He even smelled nice, like a spicy aftershave with complicated notes that must have come from France.

“Miss Nativitae,” he began.

“I thought we agreed that you’d call me Nova.” He was going to get rid of me because I was something that not even the masterful necromancer could control, but he’d be polite about it.

His brows furrowed slightly before he forced an even expression as he met my gaze. “You aren’t dead.” He offered me a slight bow. “Congratulations on your full recovery.”

I stared at him. This was his bad news? It felt like bad news. I’d just gotten used to the idea of being dead, but now I was alive? “How is that possible? Was I not really dead?”

“No, you were dead, but you regenerated back to a fully living, operational state. You must be thirsty. I’ll send for something for you to eat as well. What would you like? I can get anything from Singsong or Apple City.”

I held out my hand to him so he could see, both of us staring at my fingers that were growing back. “It’s not possible for people to regrow their fingers.” I looked up at him for validation.

He hesitated, then shrugged. “Not ordinarily, no.”

“Why are my fingers growing back? Why did I come back from the dead? Is it a miracle? It didn’t feel like a miracle, although my mother does say a lot of prayers.”

He exhaled and his shoulders relaxed slightly. “Your mother? I will take you to her. She will be relieved to see you again.”

Ah. He wanted to get rid of me now that I wasn’t dead. Was being alive such a threat? When I was dead, he was all compassion and patience, and now that I was alive, he couldn’t wait to get rid of me. No, I’d always been a puppy that he was going to rehome.

My head was spinning. I grabbed onto his hand, my heart racing faster, aching while I started to panic. My fingers were growing back. No one’s fingers grew back. I’d been dead and was now alive. My mother might look at my resurrection as a miracle, but she was suspicious of miracles as well as curses.And if my fingers had grown back, what about my nose? What about the rest of my face and body?

I’d been sculpted into perfection, but if I regrew fingers, how could surgery work on me? Wouldn’t my original nose just come back after all the enhancements oozed out? I carefully touched it and flinched when I felt the dimensions. It was small, pointed, nowhere near the perfect slope it used to be.

I was hyperventilating, hanging onto Mercury’s hand as tight as I could when he sighed heavily and put a hand on my back, patting it awkwardly.

“There is nothing to fear, Miss Nativitae. Your mother will welcome you home with joy.”

I laughed. I laughed and laughed and laughed until I was crying, holding onto his hand like it was the only thing keeping me sane. I wasn’t dead, but I still wasn’t Cassandra Clarence. I wasn’t anyone at all.

His low murmur was concerned as he rubbed my back. “You adjusted better to being dead than being alive. It must be the shock of changing states too many times.”

I bit my bottom lip and forced myself to breathe evenly. This wasn’t the time to have hysterics. Why not? I was alive, but nothing close to who I’d been. What would my mother do if I went home? She’d make the most of it, never waste an opportunity, and if anyone could turn this situation into gains, it was her. She’d use this face somehow, or she’d retire me pleasantly far away from the family and use me for my mind. I wasn’t sure which would be worse. Both options were unbearable. “I can’t go home,” I whispered, finally looking up at him, willing to beg, but not sure if that would work on a dark sorcerer, however compassionate he was. He didn’t have countless other people in his office recovering, so he got rid of them somehow.

I wouldn’t be someone he had to work to get rid of. He deserved better than that after he rescued me from the sewer, ruining his gorgeous jacket for the cause. I raised my chin and smiled a no-doubt creepy smile. “Thank you for all of your efforts on my behalf. If I’m alive and well, you don’t want me around. Your conscience is safe since you don’t need to kill me.”

I pulled the tape off my inner elbow and would have yanked out the tube if he hadn’t covered my hand and elbow with his large palm.

His eyes were cold and hard. “Didn’t I mention that you’re my prisoner? You aren’t leaving without somewhere else to go. If your family is not an option, we’ll find something else.”

He was serious about rehoming his strays. I covered his hand with mine, holding him tight. “But I’m a hugger when I’m alive. I’ll be a serious nuisance to you and your dead employees. I’ll drive Bones crazy, chasing him around for hugs as well as you. I’ll need five hugs a day or will slowly spiral into melancholy. Long squishy hugs. You may have a terrarium and a spa, but you’re not prepared for the likes of me. It’s okay. I mean, if I was able to randomly come back from the dead, there’s nothing to worry about. Seriously, Monsieur Mercury, you’ve already saved me. I don’t want to bother you any more than I already have. I’ll have to pay you back for everything as it is. Don’t put me into eternal slavery.”

His dark brows came together in an ominous frown before it melted away into a pleasant smile that he didn’t try to make look authentic. “Excellent. I have been meaning to try hug therapy, but it’s so rare for me to run into live girls in sewers these days. It used to be all the rave, literally, but now all the raves are up in the vampire clubs. Miss Nova, I hope that we understand each other.” His eyes were hard, determined, like his grasp on my arm.

His attention was like a live wire, shocking me awake in all kinds of places. I licked my lips. “You consider me yours to protect.” I couldn’t believe I’d said that out loud. I always kept my analysis of people to myself, but when he looked at me like that, it was impossible not to be honest with him.

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