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“For one thing, you lose the amount of time a body is brought back from your own life. So, bring a body back for ten minutes, no big deal. But days, weeks? That’s all coming off your bottom line. And maybe it’s no big deal if you only bring one body up, but there are necromancers out there doing four, five, ten risings a week? There’s a reason you don’t see a lot of gray-haired necromancers running around. After awhile the risk of it stops worrying them, they just get high on the power. Or so I’m told. Again, I’m not a necromancer.”
“But you can bring the dead back to life?”
“So could you.”
I blanched. “No.”
“Sure you could. You might not know the words or the steps, but you’ve dipped your toe into some dark magic, Genie, I’ve seen it. If you don’t think you’re capable of doing something like this, you’re kidding yourself.”
Swallowing hard, I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. He was throwing me off without even trying. As far as Santiago went, this was him behaving himself. And all the same, I was totally floundering.
“I’m not worried about me, right now.”
“I could show you how, you know.”
“No thank you.” The ability to raise the dead wasn’t something I particularly needed to have in my repertoire. I was learning all too well this week that the dead were probably best left in their graves.
“Too bad. You’d be good at it.” He sipped his tea, and his curls brushed against his eyelashes. Goddamn.
“We’re not talking about me,” I said again.
“We’re always talking about you,” he replied.
“Just answer her questions so we can go,” Wilder snarled.
I glanced over and him and the tightness in his jaw and shoulders was incredible. Even though Santiago was being relatively well behaved, it was obvious Wilder still wanted to punch him in the face. I hated to imagine what might happen if the witch turned on the charm to its megawatt maximum.
Danger, danger Will Robinson.
“If she’d stop circling around what she really wants to know, I’ll be happy to answer anything she wants to ask. She’s altogether too fond of dragging things out, I find.” A brow lifted in challenge, but Wilder didn’t take the bait.
“My mother is alive,” I announced.
“Congrats.”
I rubbed the bridge of my nose, the smell of the room thickening heavily and pressing against my sinuses. “My dead mother is alive.”
“How interesting.” He leaned forward in his seat, resting his forearms on his thighs and clasping his hands together. He did look genuinely interested. I found his focus discomfiting. “How long has she been dead?”
“Years.”
He pursed his lips together. “Raised by a necromancer? Messy business when they’ve been gone that long. Parts falling off everywhere.”
I shook my head. “No, she’s… completely whole.”
“Oh.”
I sure didn’t like the sound of that one simple little word. Oh. It sounded like it should be follow by dear or shit or fuck. It was the kind of word that just came across like bad news on its own.
“Oh.” Wilder snorted. “This guy doesn’t know anything, Genie, let’s go.” He moved to stand, but I grabbed his arm and squeezed, urging him to stay in place.
Something in the way Santiago was looking at me, his skin a little paler, his eyes a little wider, it reminded me of the way Cain had looked at me when I’d told him the same news.
“How did she die?” Santiago asked.
“Beheading.”
He swallowed hard, then without another word he got to his feet and left the room.
