AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTER 7
I stared at him, gauging how serious he was. He looked pretty damned serious. After a moment, I said, “Who the fuck are you, and what are you and your damned ghoul doing on our land?”
Mr. Nefarious blinked and then shrugged. “Call me Wilbur. As to who I am, I’m a necromancer, that’s my ghoul, and I’ll thank you to leave him in one piece. He wandered off before I realized he was gone and—oh Christ, lady. You broke him.”
I glanced over at the ghoul, who was standing again, his head listing precariously to the left, a lopsided, brainless grin on his face. I’d done a tidy job of crushing the vertebrae at the base of his neck. He looked rather pathetic, actually.
I turned back to Wilbur. “Put the stake away. Your ghoul was on our land, he set off our wards. What do you expect? You let your toys run around without a leash, they’re going to get hurt. Wilbur, you say?” I shook my head. Just what we needed. A necromancer named after a pig who was best friends with a spider. “Where you from, Wilbur?”
He blinked. “I moved in down the street a few months ago. The old London house. I keep to myself, and usually keep him on a tight leash.” Here, he jerked his head toward the ghoul. “But now and then, accidents happen.” He lowered the stake, keeping an eye on me as he did so. “You and your sisters are pretty damned famous. I figured that Martin would head here; your whole place shines like a Kmart blue-light special.”
A noise on the path made us both turn. He raised his spike again, then lowered it as Delilah and Camille came racing down the path. I waited till they reached us, both looking confused as they took in the situation.
“Girls, meet our new neighbor, Wilbur. Wilbur’s a necromancer. Wilbur owns the ghoul, whose name is Martin. Apparently, Martin got away from him.”
“Martin?” Camille was holding the unicorn horn. She promptly stuffed it in her pocket, but not before I noticed that Wilbur’s gaze had fastened on it.
Mental note: Watch this dude, I thought. Necromancers weren’t all that trustworthy to begin with, and if he had any sense of how powerful her weapon was, he might just set about trying to swipe it.
Delilah cleared her throat. “Wilbur? You an FBH?”
He blinked. “Well, that’s rude. But yes, I am. Name’s Wilbur Folkes, and I live down the street.”
“How long have you been a necromancer?” Camille asked, her eyes never leaving his face.
Wilbur shrugged. “A few years, more or less. I need to get back to the lab. I’ve got some potions on the stove and don’t want them to curdle. Now, if you’d let me take my ghoul, I’ll try to make sure he doesn’t bother you again. I just hope I can fix his neck,” he said with a bit of a snarl.
I stood aside as he muttered something under his breath. Martin obediently shuffled over to Wilbur’s side.
Still suspicious, I turned to the others. “I’ll just make sure Wilbur and Martin find their way back to the road.” They nodded, and I led the pair through the woods to the edge of the road.
Wilbur had apparently had enough of our conversation, and Martin could only grunt, so I kept my mouth shut, deciding the less that he knew about us, the better. We were only a five-minute walk from the edge of the road, as the crow flies, and Wilbur was pretty light on his feet for such a big man. He darted over tree roots, around trees and bushes without hesitation. When we reached the road, Wilbur silently yanked Martin across the street by one arm, none too gently. I watched as they headed down the pavement, and before long, I saw them turn in to what was, indeed, the old London house.
Delilah and Camille were gone by the time I reached the spot where I’d tackled the ghoul, and I sped back to the house. They were waiting for me as I burst into the kitchen, both looking alternately amused and confused.
“You tell Iris yet?” I asked.
“Yes they did, and it sounds peculiar to me, let me tell you that. But I need to be getting ready for my date. Bruce will be here shortly.” Iris headed toward her bedroom.
“So,” I said, floating gently into the air where I felt the most comfortable. “What do you make of our new neighbor?”
“I think we’re going to end up in court someday,” Delilah said. “Judge Judy, no less.”
“Heaven forbid,” Camille said. “I don’t trust him. I don’t like the look of him, and I’ll tell you this right now: He’s been practicing necromancy a lot longer than ‘a few years.’ That man has a tremendous amount of power, and he reeks of death.” She stared at the table. “I should know. Morio and I are starting to delve deeper into bone magic. The path is a shadowy one, and the deeper you go, the darker it gets.”
Delilah glanced at me. I gently shook my head. Camille was doing what she needed to do. The Hags of Fate had decreed whatever role Morio was to play in her life, other than that of husband and protector. It wasn’t up to us to question her or him, or their choices.
“You think Wilbur’s lying about anything?” I trusted Camille’s instinct. It was a lot more reliable than her Moon magic.
“Oh, he’s telling the truth about his name and the fact that he’s an FBH. But there’s a lot hidden behind that thicket of fur he calls a beard. I don’t pick up any strong demonic aura, but anybody who’s raising the dead and creating ghouls has to be doing something shady.”
“Great, just one more thing to concern ourselves with. I’m losing track all over the place of what the hell we’re—oh that’s right. Kitten, call Tim and check on Harish?” I frowned, trying to remember what we’d been talking about before the wards had interrupted us.
Camille poured herself a glass of wine, then searched out a package of Oreos. She settled in at the table while Delilah picked up the phone.
“Hey Jason, is Tim there?” Kitten leaned against the wall as she talked. Athletic, Delilah was tall—an inch over six feet. Her shoulder-length blonde shag was starting to grow out. After a moment of silence, Tim must have come on the line, because she said, “Listen, I know you’re up to your ears with wedding plans, but can you run a quick check for me off the Supe Community files? I don’t have the full roll call on my computer, and we need to find out if there’s an elf from OW registered. His first name is Harish; I don’t know his surname. Yes, that’s right . . . H-a-r-i-s-h . . . Thanks, call me when you find out.”
As she hung up, I asked, “So when are Tim and Jason getting married? I know we got an invitation the other day, but I forgot to look at it.”
