“Shut up.” Bram rolls his eyes.
I dig my fingers into the crack and try not to think of creepy crawly things being in there. Never mind a dead body. With a shake of my head, I roll my shoulders back and shove all the disturbing thoughts away.
“On three,” Roman says and then counts us off.
“Holy fuck,” I grunt as the lid barely shifts. It’s heavy as, well, a giant slab of stone.
“Ambrose, if you’re purposefully pushing down, I will shove my foot up your ass,” Stellan groans as the stone moves a little bit more.
“As tempting as that sounds, I promise I’m actually trying to lift this slab.” Ambrose puffs out a halting response.
I shift my hands to get underneath with a better hold and we finally get a good enough grasp to move the damn thing. There’s a pop and a gust of dust explodes in our faces.
“Fucking Crone,” Bram swears, and his shadows lash out, hooking the lid and throwing it away from us. It slams into the wall and bursts apart, chunks flying around the room.
I duck, hands over my head, while I try not to breathe deep. The others are coughing and when I stand back up Josephine is waving her hands in the air. Bram is…gagging.
“What’s wrong?” I reach out, but when he makes a puking sound, I freeze. Then slowly pat his arm.
“Oh god, that smell.” He gulps and looks up at the ceiling.
It’s dusty and gross to think about the particles of a decomposed witch floating in the air, but the smell is musty and slightly off more than anything.
“Fuck, and the body.” Bram retches, and I turn to stare at him.
“Are you…squeamish?”
“This is disgusting.”
I stand on my tiptoes and look down into the sarcophagus. It’s much deeper than I imagined. Not that I’ve had a lot of thoughts about this situation in any way, but in the ten minutes I’ve been inside this mausoleum, I didn’t expect the stone structure to go below ground level.
“It’s not even meaty or anything.” I shudder when I look at the skeleton. The skull is full-blown Halloween style, and there are a few scraps of fabric that were clothing at one point in time. Granted, it’s a dead body, but it could easily be a prop at a haunted house.
“I don’t care.” Bram is breathing heavily through his nose and blowing out through his mouth.
“Poor baby. Don’t like dead bodies.” I rub his arm again and he glares at me.
“Does anyone like dead bodies?”
“Funeral directors?” Ambrose proposes.
I turn away so Bram doesn’t see my grin, only to see Stellan’s narrowed eyes on Bram’s arm, where my hand is still lingering. I snatch it away, and my brother cocks his head and gives me a look, telling me I’m not fooling him.
“Let’s get this show started before Bram adds some unwanted ingredients to the potion.” Ambrose rubs his hands together.
“Eat shit,” Bram grumbles, but his hand lands low on my back as if he needs steadying. I don’t hate it.
“Okay, we need to circle around the coffin.” Piper steps up to the head of the grave and the rest of us find an open space. Bram is swallowing thickly beside me, but he doesn’t say another word.
“Repeat after me.” Piper dips her fingers into the bowl and flicks the potion over the body. “Bones in slumber, soul at rest, we call you forth to answer our request.” Piper pauses, and we all repeat her words.
My magic hums in my chest, a warm ball of light glowing brighter with each word spoken. Bram’s hand finds mine, and he laces our fingers together. My magic throbs and burns brighter, almost making me giddy.
Piper continues flicking the bones with water and then she shouts, “David Ashenvale, we summon you. You have been called upon to answer for your past.”
She dumps the remainder of the concoction into the sarcophagus. As if she dumped a bucket full of water on a sleeping teenager, the skeleton lurches upright and roars. An involuntary scream of surprise escapes my throat.
Bram surges forward and punches the skeleton. It flies backward, breaking into pieces in the sarcophagus. Secondslater it clatters back together in a stop-motion animation way that will give me nightmares for the rest of my life.