Page 3 of Perfectly Perplexing Zombie

“For a fairy, you’re not bad, Hellfire, but at the end of the day, you are what you are, just as I am what I am. I realize my home most likely offends your minimalist fairy sensibilities.” She waved me off before I could offer an apology. “Don’t. I’m not offended. Like I said, we are what we are. I don’t regret my lot in life, and I’m sure you don’t regret yours. Each species is different. It’s what makes this world a blessedly wonderful place.”

Unsure how to answer, I simply inclined my head and said, “As you say.”

“Always so proper too.” Muriel sighed.

Shifting her weight, Muriel’s orange and yellow patterned dress swayed around her generous hips. Muriel’s dark brown skin gleamed against the gold hoops swinging from her ears. The colorful wrap sitting atop her head, encasing her hair, increased her height by a good half foot.

“If you’re not gonna sit, the least I can do is offer a beverage. I’ve got water, sweet tea, lemonade, and cranberry juice. I’m not sure if any of that is to your palate, but I promise all of it’s untainted and safe.” Another grin split Muriel’s face, deepening the few wrinkles around her eyes and lips. White teeth shimmered through her smirk.

“The juice will do nicely.”

“Coming right up.” Muriel sashayed into the kitchen, and I followed. She poured me a healthy glass and handed it over. I noticed Muriel’s choice was sweet tea.

I took a sip. It wasn’t bad. Nothing on Earth’s plane compared to what was in Fairy, but I’d learned to appreciate this realm’s offerings over the years.

“So,” Muriel started, eyes narrowed and sharp, “now that the pleasantries are over, I’m curious. What brings Hellfire Rayburn to my doorstep? If I’ve broken fairy law, I promise I’m unaware of it.”

I’d been expecting that response and shook my head. “Nothing like that. As far as I am aware, your actions have always been impeccable.”

“Good to know. So, if it’s not that, then what?” It was a marvel Muriel’s head wrap remained tightly secured with her head cocked to the side.

Setting down my nearly full glass, I rested my hands against my lower back. I’d braided my hair today, a single plait that hung just to the top of my ass. My charcoal bespoke suit was fitted to perfection, overlaying a silk crimson shirt that matched the color of my hair perfectly and highlighted my paler-than-moonlight skin. Fairies weren’t known to be as vain as social pixies, but we were not above showing off our assets to the best of our abilities. Beauty was a treasure unto itself and was viewed with reverence.

Not all beauty was the same, and some found beauty where others did not. Physical beauty was important but not nearly as cherished as strength. Power—that was where true beauty lay. Blessedly, when I’d been created, neither had been skimped.

Muriel patiently waited for my answer, and I rewarded that patience with a single name. “Wendall Galen.”

Stiffening, Muriel’s lips thinned. “Wendall? Why would a fairy be interested in him?” Before I could answer, she waved a hand in the air. “Oh, I know he’s impressive, or perhaps, different. I’d like to claim credit, but I didn’t do anything different when I reanimated him. It’s something within Wendall himself. He’s…” Muriel’s voice trailed off, a hint of realization not far behind. “I see, maybe not fully, but you’re interested because Wendallisdifferent. The question is, what do you know that I don’t?” Muriel was far more engaged now, her attention wholly on me and what I was about to say.

“You are correct. Wendall Galen is, indeed, different. Or perhaps a better way to phrase it is Wendall is more than he appears. It has recently come to my attention that Mr. Galen has fairy blood. The amount is most likely severely diluted by now as his fairy relative is many generations removed. However, that does not change the fact that it is most likely this fairy blood that has allowed Mr. Galen to retain his personality.”

“And his cognitive functions,” Muriel mused. Letting loose a heavy breath, Muriel’s tense shoulders slumped. “I thought it might be something like that but wasn’t sure. I also wasn’t sure what that little extra something was. The reanimation process trashes the DNA. Science can’t work past my magic.” Muriel wiggled her fingers, a gentle grin tilting her lips.

“You can see why I am interested in Mr. Galen.” What I didn’t tell Muriel was that it wasn’t me that was truly interested. It was my queen, Silvidia.

“Not true,” Muriel countered. “I doubt Wendall’s alone in his distant fairy blood. Fairies are known to procreate with humans and other species. My understanding is that fairies aren’t the most fertile, or at least, they don’t seem to spawn offspring often. Wendall might be rare, but he’s not an anomaly.” Likely thinking better of her statement, Muriel tilted her head and amended, “Except for the fact he’s a zombie.”

“Indeed, you are not wrong.”

Fairies weren’t in the habit of sharing information regarding our species. It wasn’t that we feared what might be done with that knowledge. Apart from brownies, no other species stood a chance during a conflict. It was simply that we did not believe it was anyone’s business. Fairies weren’t necessarily secretive. We were private. In the modern social age, many saw this trait negatively.

“Hmm… So, tell me, what can I do for you? I’m afraid that whatever interest Fairy might have had regarding Wendall is most likely moot now. His living time has ended. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a damn shame. Wendall’s one of the good ones. He’s got a tender heart and was a credit to humanity. That same humanity saw differently and chose to make his afterlife a living hell. Thankfully, things didn’t work out exactly like his hateful human relatives desired, but Wendall is dead. He’d be buried six feet under if it weren’t for me.”

I gave a discreet bow. “And for that, we are most thankful. You have given us a chance to right a terrible wrong.”

“Huh? How so?”

Straightening, I said, “Wendall’s genetic ties to our race were not discovered until after his death. My queen is most dismayed.”

“Yourqueen? The fairy queen?” Muriel’s mouth slipped open, and her skin grew ashen.

I’d expected this response. It had been decades since Queen Silvidia left Fairy. Rumors flew that she’d either passed or was ill. Neither could be farther from the truth. Our queen was as fit as ever. She could kill with a thought or foster life just as easily. Unfortunately, resurrection was beyond her skills.

That is where I, unfortunately, came in.

I lived to serve my queen and was honored she’d chosen me for this task. However, even my queen acknowledged that what she asked of me was beyond a simple request. My queen asked me to share my bond—a bond reserved for one deemed a worthy forever mate.

Wendall wasn’t just some rare human with a hint of fairy blood. He was the distant descendant of Queen Silvidia’s murdered brother, Prince Hanan. Wendall was the last biological piece of her brother that existed, and she refused to give up what was left of that tie.

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