Page 59 of Lethal

“Yes.” She regards me. “Necromancers don’t tend to involve themselves in the morals and ethics of such a quandary. We are here to manipulate the living and the dead. To straddle both worlds. We don’t decide who gets to live and die. Alaric broke that tradition.”

“I’ll say,” I grumble. “He wiped out an entire circle of supernatural beings. He committed genocide.”

“One could call it an evil act. Another could call it justice.” Morrigan links her fingers together.

“Did you know Alaric well?”

She shakes her head. “I was young, barely into my powers. Like you are now. A cub.”

“Did you fight in the war?”

“Yes. Briefly. I was at the final battle as Alaric lifted Vladimir Dracul’s severed head.”

In my mind, Cyrus growls.

“How do necromancers fight?” I ask.

“We raise the dead and controlthem.”

I shiver. “We create zombies?”

She nods. “We can alter the life force of living things, too, draining them of energy.”

I fold into myself, hugging my body. None of this sounds good. It’s all negative and dark and disturbing. “I don’t want this power.”

She quirks her mouth on one side, clearly amused. “You don’t get to choose.”

“I want to be good.” I lift my chin and look her squarely in the eye.

“Then make that choice.”

She makes it sound so simple, but I’ve already made choices that could be considered bad, like harbouring a vampire. She just told me that necromancers are, at best, morally grey auras, yet somehow I’m supposed to choose to be good. I’m not sure how that’s possible.

I clear my throat, trying not to allow my thoughts to race out of control. “Do I have any other abilities? Does necromancy make me stronger in other magical areas?”

“That depends,” Morrigan says. “Powerful auras often wield many powers and can perform many spells. Your ancestor Alaric was one of the most powerful auras in the world. He had many powers.”

“And his spells?”

“Also excellent.”

I lick my lips and carefully consider what to say next. “I heard that he trapped the bodies of the Dracul family in the crypts. Did he do that because he thought they might come back to life?”

Morrigan’s eyes narrow slightly. “Vampires can be resurrected like any other dead creature. They are auras, too,passing their demon DNA between each other by blood. They aren’t undead like the legends say.” She pauses. “As far as Alaric’s spells go, I don’t know what he did down there. But I do know that Colette Pax placed wards around each grave.”

“Pax? Like Octavia Pax?”

Morrigan nods. “The one and the same.”

“It must be strange for you, living such a long life and working with the descendants of so many. Will I live a long life too?”

“It’s possible. Necromancy affects the life force of our own bodies. But we can be killed by mortal wounds. Diseases we often improve with our own instincts, but mortal wounds take us fast.”

“How did Alaric die?”

Morrigan leans forward, her eyes flashing. “He was murdered, child. An arrow penetrated his eye. But no one knows who killed him. The murderer was never found.”

“An arrow?” After this conversation, it seems so strange that Alaric was killed in a non-magical way.

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