Page 10 of Perfectly Perplexing Zombie

Vander’s skin turned a little green at the mention of Wendall’s new diet, but he recovered quickly. “You think his fairy blood is interfering with Muriel’s reanimation magic?”

“That is the concern.”

“Well, shit.” Vander’s hands fisted on his hips. “That’s shitty news. I don’t know him well, but Wendall seems like a good guy, and Johnny sure seems to like him. I think Lucroy likes him too.” Vander’s nose scrunched. “Well, as much as a vamp can like someone. Sometimes, it’s difficult to tell.”

“I’m certain King Moony would be pleased with your assessment.”

Vander coughed out a laugh. “No doubt.” Head shaking, Vander’s amusement faded, and deep thought took its place. I knew he’d caught on when his shoulders slumped. “That’s why you need me. Damn.”

“I doubt I need you in particular, but a capable warlock will be required should breaking Muriel’s bond with Wendall become necessary.”

Leaning on Sedrick’s desk, arms crossed, Vander’s head was lowered in what appeared to be concentration. “I take it back; I don’t get it. If things go sideways, all Muriel has to do is cut the connection. I hate to say it, but Wendall will go back to truly being dead. His body will continue decomposing, and nature will take its course. Breaking the connection doesn’t require anything on my part.”

“Typically, that would be correct. However, Wendall’s second death is not what my queen wishes.”

“Queen Silvidia?” Vander’s shock was only slightly less than Muriel’s had been.

“We have no other queen,” I stubbornly said. “My queen desires Wendall to remain alive or at least reanimated. Should Muriel’s abilities prove insufficient, another method shall be employed. It will be essential that Muriel hold a partial bond—enough to keep Wendall’s body reanimated while the magical power sustaining that reanimation is changed.”

“Changed? Changed to who? I’m not just blowing smoke when I say that Muriel is the most powerful priestess east of the Mississippi and probably west of it too. If she’s not capable, I doubt another is.”

“That is not your current concern.” I wasn’t certain why I felt the need to keep the truth from Vander. Perhaps it was an extension of my own desires. I did not relish the thought of sharing my bond, especially with someone so painfully human. Queen Silvidia’s request was not light.

Vander held up his hands, palms out. “Okay, I get it. Well, not really, but I’ll back off. Just to let you know, I’ve got to head out west with Parsnip.Interspecies Habitat’snext show involves a mermaid and a rattlesnake shifter. Don’t ask me how the two of them met. I’ve got no idea. If she hasn’t already, Divia will probably tell Parsnip the gritty details soon.” Vander’s expression relaxed to one of pleasure. “Parsnip was so afraid his career was over, but early ratings tell a different story. The production company leaked his coming out footage, and the response has been anything but negative.” Vander spoke with unguarded pride.

“Congratulations,” I offered, unsure what else to say.

Clapping his hands, Vander’s clanging metal rings filled the air. We’d managed to recover most of his charmed rings. His most prized possession was the one with the blackened stone, rivers of crimson etched across the surface. When his one-and-only was around, it glowed red. It was rare to see it quiescent as typically Parsnip and Vander were together.

“Byx is going to watch the shop. She’ll know how to reach me, and I’m only a plane ride away. Just let me know if and/or when you need my help. I’ll do a little digging, but I don’t think breaking, or in this case, partially breaking, Muriel and Wendall’s connection will be difficult, especially if I have Muriel’s permission and she’s not fighting the process.”

“That will not be an issue,” I confidently assured. “To an extent, Muriel is aware of the concerns, and she has no desire to harm Mr. Galen further.” In fact, I got the feeling it was just the opposite. Muriel was unusually fond of this zombie.

“Glad to hear it. That’ll be one less complication, and I’ve got no desire to go pissing off a priestess.”

“A wise life choice.”

Vander choked out a laugh. “That’s no joke. Now, if it’s okay with you, I’m going to head out. I’ve got my own pixie to get home to.” Vander’s grin was charming and full of adoration.

I’d never once known a being that garnered such a personal reaction and doubted I ever would. Centuries of experience were a difficult past to overcome.

ChapterFive

Wendall

I’d been convinced my aunt and uncle were the source of my demise. Wrapping my head around the idea they weren’t the cause was more difficult than it should have been. There’d been no love loss between myself and my aunt and uncle. I never understood why. After a few years, the why of the matter didn’t seem important any longer. If I’d gotten stuck on solving that riddle, I never would have had the time to figure out my own shit. I’d made a conscious decision that I was more important than their unreasonable disregard, and in doing so, I’d disregarded them.

When I’d woken to my dead life, it hadn’t been difficult to reconcile their supposed actions—not that I understood why they’d wanted me dead any more than why they’d despised my very existence. I guessed I figured that was reason enough. Or maybe my aunt and uncle didn’t necessarily need a reason to do what they’d done. Knowing what I knew now, it seemed kind of naïve. Then again, they had contacted Muriel, fed her a lot of bullshit regarding how I’d lived my life, and happily made off with a small sum of money in exchange for my reanimated body. When I thought about that, thinking they’d been the cause of my death didn’t seem so far-fetched.

“Wendall, we need some more shot glasses.” Lizbeth peeked her head through the swinging door, and her request was barely past her lips before she darted off again.

I doubted she stayed long enough to hear my brief “got it.”

Thankfully, I had plenty washed. Turns out I was pretty good at washing glasses while my mind was a million miles away. I’d always been good at busy work, and evidently, my mind classified washing dishes under that same umbrella. Good thing because Dusk was busy again. Not as busy as it was on Saturday, but more than your average Monday crowd.

After filling a bin with clean glassware, I headed out of my protective cubbyhole and into the noise of Dusk’s unique atmosphere. Darting in and around Lizbeth, I restocked the glasses before exchanging my bin with one nearly overflowing with dirty cups.

“Thanks,” Lizbeth said in passing, a brief smile flitting across her lips before she was off, helping another customer.

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