“We’ve been over this. Any new insults?”
“Dickhead. Prick. Bastard.”
He faked a yawn. “Boring.”
She punched him in the arm. He might have been mad if her tiny fist had managed to wound him, but as it was, he barely felt it. He laughed instead.
And then he pointed at the book. “Focus, witchling. Turn the page.”
Her brows shot up. “Witchling?”
He shot her a smug look. “You’re a witch, and you’re … little. Thus, witchling. Now, focus.”
“If you call me that, I’m going to call you Murmy.”
The smile dropped off his face like it had never been. “Call me that, and I’ll stuff a gag in your throat and chain you up so deep in my dungeons, you’ll never see the light of day again.”
They glared at each other for a moment.
And then she barked a laugh. “You almost had me for a second. I was quaking in my boots.” She cocked a brow. “And then I remembered that youneedme, and you would never do anything to jeopardize my precious blood for your precious spell.”
He leaned in. “You’re pushing your luck, witchling.”
“Relax,Murmy.” Her smile was full of challenge. “We’re just having fun.”
She thought she could best him? She thought she could meet him eye to eye?
You’ve gone soft, his inner voice mocked.Allowing yourself to be challenged by a little hybrid? Shameful. Keep this up and next thing you know, you’ll be traipsing around in your human form, trying to fit in on Earth with the weaklings.
He hated when his own mind ridiculed him, but perhaps it was right this time. Perhaps he ought to remind Suyin who was really in charge here.
He didn’t react to her taunt. He didn’t so much as twitch. He just continued to stare at her. Wariness gradually crept into her gaze as she finally realized she may have pushed him too far.
Then he called his souls to rise. He allowed their faces to take shape—their haunting, screaming faces, lit by an unearthly purple glow. The mouths that constantly begged for salvation in his mind were open, revealing blackened teeth and decayed gums. Rotted flesh hung limply off their cheekbones, their eyes gaping, empty sockets.
Suyin’s dark eyes darted around all the deathly faces closing in on her. Her fingers clenched the book in her lap so tightly, her knuckles whitened.
And Murmur felt … vaguely nauseated. Not triumphant.
The first time he’d done this to her, he’d wanted her to be terrified, and he’d enjoyed his victory. This time, however, it wasn’t the same.
He didn’t like the fear on her face. He didn’t like how the good-natured defiance had bled from her expression. He didn’t like how whatever camaraderie they’d had moments ago had shattered.
What is happening to me?
You’re weak, the voice hissed.And you’re getting weaker.
Disgusted at himself, he released the souls, and they disappeared, leaving nothing but faint, ghostly trails.
Suyin visibly sagged with relief. She looked at the fire, and he could tell she was fighting to slow her breathing and regain calm. He watched as her fear dissipated, only to be replaced with hot anger.
He stared into the flames beside her. Neither of them spoke for a time.
“Note to self,” she muttered through gritted teeth, “Murmur can’t take a fucking joke.”
He wanted to tell her that he was the Necromancer, and of course he didn’t take jokes, and it was her mistake to be foolish enough to provoke him. What had she expected?
But he didn’t say that. He didn’t say anything at all.
