Page 35 of Perfectly Perplexing Zombie

“When has that ever truly stopped a djinn?” Aurelia’s head twisted enough that her eyes bored into mine. She was far shorter than me, and I had to look down to do so, but I held her gaze with my own fire-lit one.

“A fair point.”

“We always find a way. Time is our only constraint. Eventually, Arthur will learn this unerring fact.”

“While I find that comforting, time is unfortunately not my only constraint. Or perhaps a better way to phrase it is that Time is not my current friend.” My attention transferred from Arthur’s back to Wendall’s smiling face. I wanted to keep that smile. The world could use more smiles like that and should not be deprived of his so quickly.

“Yes. I am aware. I’ve shared that knowledge with Arthur, but he is insistent. He is a fool.”

“Insistent? About what?”

My interactions with djinns were minimal. None were certain how many were created, and even less certain how many remained. By witches’ accounts, the numbers were low. I did not know a single soul who thought that fact was unfortunate.

Regardless, I was unsure how willing Aurelia would be with information. Thankfully, she did not seem to have a restriction, and she was more than willing to share what she knew.

Audibly sighing, Aurelia slumped against the wall. “Arthur is insistent. Wendall was Arthur’s teaching assistant and was at the school late one night, working on a project Arthur had given him. Wendall entered Arthur’s office without knocking, potentially seeing something he shouldn’t have seen. He believes Wendall saw my object of attachment. Arthur also believes Wendall knows what he saw and can figure out where that object is kept.”

The pieces fell into place, and I didn’t like the picture they created. “Arthur Stover is responsible for Wendall’s death.”

“Responsible, yes. He was not behind the wheel of the car that killed that young man. No one was, but it was Arthur’s will.” Anger laced Aurelia’s words along with a hint of regret. “It was not what I wished.”

“But it was what Arthur wished.”

“It was.”

“And your restriction?”

Aurelia waved me off. “Easy enough to overcome. I was not behind the wheel either. The vehicle killed Wendall. I did not.”

“But you guided that vehicle toward him.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I did. As I said, getting around the restriction is easy. My witch was not crafty or specific enough when she inked and spelled my skin.”

Anger flared, and my eyes briefly lit. I pushed that anger down, barely keeping the strain from my voice. “If it is that easy, why not do something similar to your master. I’ve followed him, seen how unprotected he is. It would be nothing for you to take him out.”

Aurelia grunted. “It would if his first wish had not been that I was prohibited from causing or being the cause of any injury—fatal or otherwise. It was the wisest move that human has made.” Aurelia cocked her head to the side as if considering her words. “Yes, it was the smartest, but he is clever. I will give the human that. He does not flaunt what I have given him.”

“The expensive homes, vehicles, and offshore accounts,” I guessed.

“Hmm…that is correct. All of these he has kept secret. Others he works with know of djinns’ existence and believe we are real. Given Arthur’s archaeology scope, it would not be beyond belief that he could have stumbled upon one of my kind.”

“If he suddenly became unbelievably wealthy, someone else might get a little too interested.”

“Humans are pathetically greedy and infinitely devious and clever when it comes to satisfying that greed. Arthur no longer has friends. He only has others he fears will take what he feels he has rightfully earned.”

It was another pitfall of the djinn. Possessing an object of attachment might give one false security regarding control, but it also led most to mental collapse. As Aurelia said, Arthur no longer had friends, only potential thieves and enemies. He was monetarily wealthy beyond his wildest dreams, but that throne was a lonely one.

My gaze had yet to drift from Wendall and Arthur. Professor Stover’s interest in Wendall was more than disconcerting. The human had already demonstrated what lengths he was willing to go to. He’d murdered Wendall once. Twice was the definition of overkill.

“Arthur thought killing Wendall would be the end of it,” I mused aloud. “But it wasn’t. Death is not always the end one believes it will be.”

Vampires had more than proven that theory true. Zombies were the other obvious example, though you could argue howalivethey truly were. Necromancers threw their own type of wrench into the afterlife.

“No.” Aurelia waved a hand in Wendall’s direction. “However, no one could have predicted this outcome. A fully cognizant zombie.” With a slight shake of her head, Aurelia appeared truly intrigued. “He is an interesting anomaly. It is unfortunate his reanimation is failing.”

My muscles went rigid. I did not like being reminded that Wendall’s second life was fleeting. For a moment, I considered regaling Aurelia with the perceived reason for Wendall’s deterioration but thought better of the idea. The djinn might happily offer up information, but I did not feel so inclined. It went against my very fairy nature.

Latching onto something Aurelia said earlier, I asked, “Does Arthur still believe Wendall is a danger?”

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