Weird take after I just shared one of my most nostalgic memories.
“Did everyone see ghosts in the Nether, or was it just you after you were turned into…you know?” Everett asks, brushing the frost off his fingertips.
I shrug, but the truth is it was just me—and I could always see ghosts, even well before they started experimenting on me. Lillian hadn’t seemed surprised whenever I told her about the specters, but she told me not to mention them to anyone else.
Maybe she knew it would bother the necromancers.
Finally, Silas pulls his shoulders back and regards the corpse on the asphalt. Snow is falling lightly now, and the quiet peels of holiday music in the distance lend a somewhat eerie tone to this situation.
"All right. I remember the spell. Don't stand too close."
Everett backs the furthest away. We all watch as Silas begins softly chanting in Nether tongue. I feel the familiar prickling chill skitter over my arms when I hear him start the ritual to raise a corpse. I've heard it so many times that I could recite it in my sleep.
As Silas completes the ritual, his eyes darken entirely until no whites are left. His fingertips blacken where they're extended over Gibbons' dead body, which begins to twitch and spasm. A final wave of unearthly dread sweeps through the cold air before Silas staggers back.
Baelfire steadies him. "You good?"
Blood drips from Silas's nose. I frown at that sign of strain, but he wipes it away quickly and shrugs off the dragon shifter. "Let me go, you big lug."
Everett inhales sharply when Gibbons' body jolts. It twitches and flexes, slowly rising to its feet with its head still hanging at a broken angle. Finally, the bones in its neck pop into place, and we're left staring at a soulless Undead, staring at nothing with one pitch-black eye.
If any other necromancer raised it, it would try to eat us. Fortunately, the Undead are perfect puppets who won't harm the one who raised them or their perceived allies.
"Holy shit," Baelfire grunts. "That's fucking creepy."
Everett mutters a prayer to the god Koa, asking forgiveness for us for using this type of magic. "Yep, there goes my sleep tonight. What now?"
Reaching out, I tip Silas's face to examine it better in the dim light. His nose is still lightly bleeding, but his eyes have returned to normal.
I appreciate your concern for me, sangfluir, but I'm perfectly fine.
I arch a brow.How can I know for sure? Can you lie telepathically?
His gaze alights with curiosity.Let's find out. Ask me an obvious question.
All right. What am I?
The love of my life.
Oh, fuck.
I was not prepared for the intimate intensity in his beautiful ruby irises. And him dropping theL-word like that, completely straight-faced and unflinching?
My face feels warm.Allof me feels warm.
I quickly drop this topic for another time and turn back to the reanimated corpse, clearing my throat. "It should be simple from here. Since Gibbons told Everett's father he had an update about us, it's only a matter of time before Alaric tries to contact Gibbons back."
Why are you so uncomfortable, blood blossom?Silas asks in fae inside my head, smirking as if he finds my brush-off amusing.Is it because I mentioned love?
Let’s not use theL-word,I scowl through the bond.
Love? Don't tell me you're philophobic.
I pretend I don't hear him. "As an Undead, Gibbons can't talk now. When communication fails, Alaric will trace Gibbons' whereabouts using the scrying brand to get a new lead. All weneed to do is send him on a wild goose chase to buy us more time."
The others nod, but Silas is laughing quietly now as he realizes how badly I want to avoid this particular discussion.
At least we know now that I cannot lie even through our bond,he muses.You do know this is an inevitable conversation you'll need to have four times, right? Perhaps I should warn the others that you'll try to avoid any admittance of feelings?—
