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She had to stop as the waiter came over to take their main course order. Gideon looked ecstatic at the interruption, even if his neck was still the color of beets. He picked up the menu and cleared his throat.
She tried very hard not to cackle.
“The lady will have the crab cakes, and I will have the gnocchi.”
When the waiter walked away, she shot him a raised eyebrow.
He blinked. “What?”
“Did you just order for me?”
He stammered before giving up and sighing. “Yes, I did. Old habits. Did I order incorrectly?”
“No, but that’s not the point.”
“Agency, yes. We were just talking about this.” He grimaced. “I’m a fool, Marguerite. I’m sorry.”
She smiled. “Apology accepted. And I was going to order the crab cakes anyway.” She leaned her elbow on the table and propped her chin into her hand. “You know more about me than I do.”
“I fear that’s an accurate statement.” There was that remorse again.
She watched him for a long moment. “I know you’re trying. And that means more than whether or not you screw up now and then.” She paused. “Besides, you’re paying. I guess it’s only fair that you get to order. I can’t claim sexism about one thing and then enjoy the benefits right after.”
“How very egalitarian of you.” He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to her fingers. “Thank you.”
She studied him again. What a curious man. “So. Necromancer. How’d that all go down?”
“Well, it’s honestly not terribly interesting.” He set her hand down but didn’t release it. He seemed to relish any contact with her. In fact, he gazed down at their hands as he spoke. “I was born into a wealthy and well-connected family. Because of that, it was always expected that I would become a vizir to the emperor as I grew older. I was an avid student, and there was rarely a moment that I couldn’t be found with a book or scroll in my hands. But it was never enough. I felt that there was something missing. Something that lived in the intersection between religion and science. Some hidden knowledge that was being kept from me.”
He took another sip of his martini. “It was when I finally stepped into the role under Emperor Heraclius that my scholarly interests could be fed. As is the way in such things, I didn’t discover the magical arts on my own. There was another vizir, a much older and more serious man, who took me under his wing. But it wasn’t long before I had surpassed him in skill.”
“So, you’ve always been a fancy-pants know-it-all?”
“Indeed.” He chuckled. “But even the surface level of the magical arts wasn’t enough. I wanted to command life itself. It was a forbidden topic, and I soon had to leave my old mentor behind as I searched the world for the answers I truly sought. For the power over life.” He let out a small sigh. “I spent thirty years traveling the world. Seeking and searching for what I needed before I finally found it in the ruins of a temple in Tibet.”
“Wait. Thirty years? You had to have been at least twenty when you hit the road, and you don’t look fifty.”
His silver eyes glinted. “This body is what I wish it to be. My other form—the shadow—is my true self. This shape is not an illusion, but it’s a creation. I spent several centuries as a white man, once.” He grimaced. “It was convenient but insulting. Not to mention it was hard to maintain.”
“Huh. So, you choose to be this devilishly handsome and sexy? I knew it was a lie.” She sipped her beer.
He laughed, even if his neck did turn a little red. “No, no. It’s not a lie. There is a reflection of ourselves in our souls, and to wear such a disguise took great effort on my part. But how else was I to masquerade as a German alchemist for fifty years? This is how I appeared in my youth in my prime. But I was in my seventies when I finally obtained the power to control my own body.”
She narrowed one eye at him. “You’re telling me you didn’t make any improvements?”
He opened his mouth, paused, shut it, and reached for his martini before muttering into the lip of it, “Perhaps a few.” He placed the drink down and cleared his throat. “What, you think my eyes were always silver? Whatever were you implying? You have such a dirty mind.”
That cracked her up. She reached for her beer only to find it was empty. Their waiter came over, smiling at them, clearly enjoying their good moods, even if vicariously and only because he might get a big tip out of it. “Another?” he asked.
She looked at the beer glass and let out a thoughtful hum. With a sly smirk, she looked over at the table at Gideon. “What should I have, dear doctor? You order for me.”
The necromancer’s eyes glittered with mischief. Or maybe it was delight in her own roguishness. She didn’t know. “The lady will have a bramble.”
“Of course.” The waiter took her empty beer glass and left.
“Trying to get me sauced?”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps I know what you like, and that Americans cannot mix gin to save their lives. Whiskey, certainly. But gin?” He huffed as he reached for a piece of popcorn. “It’s embarrassing.”
