I Fell in Love with a Necromancer (The Necromancer Book 1) Read online

  Pink-hair ate the last couple of bites of her cereal before answering, “Darren, this is Cheetoh. Cheetoh, Darren, and I’m Cecile. There, one big happy, undead family.”

  I blanched. Undead? I looked from one to the other.

  “Oh, don’t let her looks fool you. She only wishes she was a student,” Cecile said with an eye roll as she disappeared down the main hallway.

  “Pshhh,” Cheetoh sneered. “She is always like this. You were better off dead.”

  What the hell was going on? And what kind of name was Cheetoh?

  I took off in the direction Cecile had gone. I spotted an open door and stepped in. “Hey, what’s going on here? You ignore me the whole walk and it’s obvious you don’t like me—but I mean, you can’t just keep me in the dark about everything. I’m losing my mind. I died last night. I might never see my family again. I don’t know what happened to me, or what you are or what’s going on. I mean help me out here!”

  Cecile was sitting in a large black computer chair, her screen was on and opened to some forum. She lazily turned and leaned back, staring at me thoughtfully. I immediately regretted my tone, remembering how she had hurt me earlier.

  “So you don’t remember how you died, but you remember your family? And you said no rifters came to offer you safe passage to the other side?” she asked.

  I sighed and pressed my hands to my forehead. Was she ever going to answer any of my questions? “No, I told you, there were no rifters or angels or whatever. I don’t know what happened.”

  “Hm. Well, I mean, these are interesting times. The system gets gummed up sometimes. After the Great Awakening and everything, all sorts of things have been going wrong. All these fairy and otherkin running around. I wonder if you got caught in some sort of magickal crossfire. Hm-hm. Let’s see what I can do about getting you to the other side. Maybe I can help you move on without having to involve one of those feather-brained rifters.”

  Oh, no. No. The Great Awakening, fairy, and otherkin? That was all I needed. Several years ago, newspapers, newsfeeds, and the whole Internet blew up with talk of this Great Awakening. People all over the world started to see magickal creatures and witches and more, but Silverbrook had remained blessedly untouched, or so I thought. Now I didn’t know what to think.

  “So you’re saying some sort of fairy could have done this to me? I thought we didn’t have any in Silverbrook.”

  “If you pissed one off, it might have. We’re in the middle of a mountain range, if you think there aren’t fairy and otherkin out here, you are an idiot. Just because they hide or don’t show themselves in the city, doesn’t mean they’re not here. This isn’t Toronto, sadly...” She looked down, a shadow of disappointment crossing her face. “Alright, well. We’re not getting any younger. I’ve got some sacred space set up in the basement so we’ll light some candles, say some weird shit, and off you go.”

  “Off I go? What about my parents? My family?” I asked.

  “What about them, Darren? You’re dead. You don’t belong here. Let them mourn you and move on,” she replied.

  “But why can’t we talk to them? Why can’t we tell them that I’m still here? You could talk to them for me. You could tell them I’m alright.”

  “But you’re not. You’re dead. You’ve lost your physical body. They can’t see you and they certainly aren’t going to believe some pink-haired girl is channeling their son for them. Don’t you think I’ve tried all of that? It only ends in tears. It ends with you staying too long and becoming dangerous—or—or worse.” She looked down. She shook her head and then stood up.

  “But Cheetoh can see me. Both of you can. The three of us, we go over there, we explain I’m not in pain, and that we’ll see each other again. Someday...”

  Cecile shook her head again as she grabbed an old book from one of her bookshelves. “Cheetoh is a mummy and will happily go with us and suck out the remaining years of your family’s life to stay young and beautiful. Do you want that? She’s named after a bag of Cheetos. Cheetos, Darren, because she likes them.”

  Her tone and what she said frightened me. Cheetoh was a mummy? Like from a movie? Could she have killed me? I had obviously made a mistake coming here. Whatever was going on here wasn’t right.

  “You know what? If you won’t help me, I’ll find someone else who will. I’m sure there’s a psychic or something around town,” I said and went to storm out.

  Cecile snapped her fingers and I flinched, expecting pain again or that horrible place she’d taken me to, but instead, the lights flickered and I saw something skitter across the room. I jumped. A book got knocked down from the shelf. I jumped again, and then I saw them. Rats. Rats crawled out from every nook and cranny, from underneath the laundry pile and from under the bed covers. There were rats everywhere and they were either dead or not normal—like me. They weren’t decaying like zombies, but I could feel them in a way that I couldn’t feel anything else in this world, like something swimming around me in water. I looked up at Cecile, horrified.

  A dark gray rat with obsidian eyes sat on her shoulder and both of them stared at me. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but you left me no choice. I can’t leave you here to hurt someone.” Her gaze softened and a stray pink curl drifted down and laid across her pretty face.

  “What? Hurt someone? What are you saying? I wouldn’t do that. I swear I wouldn’t. I don’t know what’s going on, but please let me go,” I begged.

  “You think that now, but you will change. You all change,” she replied, looking down.

  The rats crept closer. I was going to have to run for it. I turned and made to sprint, but they surrounded me. I went to move forward but my legs wouldn’t obey. I was trapped. Little hands and feet started to crawl up onto my shoes and legs. “No. No!” I screamed.

  “AYE! What is all the noise! Oh, great. Not this again, Cecile!” Cheetoh exclaimed from behind me, but before I could cry for help, the rats covered me and everything went dark.

  The Necromancer

  I awoke in a terrifying room. If I had a pulse, it would have been racing. Everything happened within a second for me, but finding myself in a completely different room and wondering how much time had passed made my head spin and my ghost-nausea return.

  My head bobbed a couple of times before I could get a hold of myself. I found myself standing in the middle of the darkest room I’d ever been in. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all black. Everything was lit by tall mismatched candelabras and there were bizarre symbols painted everywhere. My mind spiraled into worst-case scenarios—most of them involving Lucifer and giant tentacle gods.

  I felt pressure all around me like a tight blanket. When I attempted to move, I looked down and squawked—yes, like a parrot. I was standing in the middle of some satanic symbol with hundreds of rats spiraling around me on the floor. They moved in unison, circling me.

  “No, stop that. Cheetoh. I told you to go back upstairs!” Cecile barked at her roommate.

  “What’s happening?” I gurgled, as the two girls came into focus in front of me.

  Cheetoh was still in her pajama pants and tank top, waving a hair brush, while Cecile tried to push her away. She was shorter than Cheetoh, but she looked strong.

  “Hey! You think I don’t know you try send me back too? I’m staying here to make sure you don’t trick!” Cheetoh hit Cecile on the head with her brush.

  Cecile backed away, gripping her head. “Ow, you stupid mummy! I told you already that I don’t know those kinds of spells yet! If I did, you’d be nothing but sand, you miserable fossil!”

  “Hmph.” Cheetoh crossed her arms and looked away, visibly offended.

  “Cheetoh, help me! Don’t let her do—whatever it is she’s going to do. Cheetoh, I need to see my family. Help me, please,” I begged her, hoping she would sympathize with me.

  “Pfft. Please, you think she’s going to help you? She’s probably been thinking about how to eat you,” Cecile snapped as she walked over to what looked
like a stolen school podium.

  Cheetoh turned and stared daggers into Cecile. “Disgusting,” she said and turned to stomp off upstairs.

  “Cheetoh! Wait! Don’t go. Help me, please!” I struggled again against the invisible barrier that held me, but it was no use. I was completely trapped.

  The basement door slammed, leaving me alone with Cecile.

  Undeterred by the fight, Cecile returned to her work. She read aloud from an opened book as she prepared ingredients in a small copper bowl on the podium. “Now, let’s see... Oh, okay. This here says I need oak charcoal and theeeeen… Ah, banishing salt. Okay, and lastly, one raven feather.”

  Two huge, black, tapered candles burned to either side of her and down the podium, forming long wax curtains that trailed onto the floor.

  She read over the pages a couple more times, nodded to herself, and picked up the copper bowl. As she approached me, I could only watch in terror. I wanted to beg and plead; I wanted to see if I could talk some sense into her, but in those last moments, I stood tall and faced her. There was nothing I could do, and I knew it, but I would be damned if I was going to spend my last moments begging and crying.

  I lifted my head and our eyes met. I attempted to harden my face, but the gentleness I saw in her eyes softened me. She truly believed what she was doing was right.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Will it hurt?” I asked.

  “No.” She smiled softly.

  “All right. Let’s get it over with.”

  Cecile took the black feather from the bowl and held it up as she dumped the rest of the ingredients inside the circle and star that contained me. The rats all stopped and sat back on their haunches as they stared up at me. The room was silent.

  I gulped and looked back at Cecile. We held each other’s gaze a moment before she said, “I was always shit at Latin.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at her. I had no idea what she was talking about and the whole thing was so stupidly scary, but I realized how lucky I was to not be alone as I crossed over to the other side, and especially with someone so beautiful.

  She raised the feather, and as her gaze lifted, she said, “Great spirit of the veil, black feathers, black bill, please carry this spirit safely to the other side. Great Raven, please make my request your will.”

  As she spoke the last words, she let the feather fall from her hand and we both watched it float down and land inside the circle.

  I closed my eyes, waiting for whatever was coming my way. I pictured myself riding on the back of a great black bird, attempting to imagine the whole thing like an adventure. Maybe I’d see some incredible things on my journey.

  After a couple of minutes, I heard Cecile shuffle and opened my eyes. She was looking around the room and running her fingers through her hair. She let out an exasperated sigh and shook her head.

  While I waited, I wondered if I’d end up in the scary blue place again or if I’d be picked up by a giant bird, like in that movie with the elves and the gold ring.

  “Huh,” Cecile said, looking at the floor and shuffling her foot again.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Whelp, it didn’t work. We’ll have to figure something else out,” she replied and waved her hand.

  I felt the pressure release around me. It’s strange to say, but I felt light and like I could breathe again.

  I stepped toward her, brave with hope. “You’re letting me go?”

  “No. You can’t leave the house. It’s warded. Something’s wrong and I can’t quite put my finger on it. You’ll just have to stay here until I straighten things out.”

  “You never did practice your Latin,” a beautiful voice chimed from behind me in the dark.

  I stiffened and turned around. A very tall, voluptuous—gorgeous—albino woman stood behind me. She was wearing a long, black gown with wavy ribbons of night that snaked and floated around her. They faded and disappeared at the ends, but being a man, my focus was really just on her cleavage and her face. I didn’t care about the dress.

  She smirked as she took me in with her vibrant red eyes.

  “Hey.” I smiled stupidly.

  Cecile walked over and sighed again, “Hi, Mom.”

  Things couldn’t have been more embarrassing. I’d scared this guy out of his wits, my spell failed, and now my mother was checking in on me.

  If the spell had worked, he’d have crossed over and he’d be at peace, but now, there he was, ogling my mother.

  I didn’t know what I was doing. I was a noob necromancer at best, despite my natural ability. I’d always known who I was, and that I was different, but with necromancy being illegal in the United States and in every province in Canada, my mother had hidden me here and kept my training minimal.

  While the Great Awakening had brought fairy and magickal beasts back into this world, the rest of us had already been here—including some of the gods. Before there were laws against certain types of magick, I would have passed under the radar, but now? Now there were prisons designed to contain people like me.

  I was embarrassed and I let my emotions get the best of me when I snapped at my mom.

  “You see. This is what happens when you don’t train me properly. Now he’s stuck here. I could even be the reason he’s here in the first place, just like Cheetoh.”

  My mother tilted her head and smiled mischievously. “So, the mummy is still here, is she? I would have thought you’d have kicked her out by now.”

  It wasn’t easy having a goddess for a mother. She found everything “interesting” or “amusing,” she rarely got mad, but she didn’t understand what it was like to struggle or feel powerless. Growing up, everything that happened to me was a “lesson.” I would have given anything to have her hold me when I scraped a knee or mourn with me when I lost a pet.

  “Ar—are you the Raven? Are you taking me to the other side?” Darren asked.

  I had to admit, Darren had put up with a lot of shit from me since he died, and despite how scared he was, he was holding his own in front of my mother.

  The rats had all disappeared at the sight of my mom, except for Tanner. He’d hidden himself in the white rat patch sewn into the back of my jacket, but I knew he was there. Good ol’ Tanner, my best friend.

  My mother shook her head, her movements always slow and dreamlike, just like her voice. When I was young, I had wanted her ruby eyes. I loved them. But in this world they were dangerous and I had to cover my black-and-grey eyes with brown contacts, less they raise suspicion.

  “No, not really. Like a vulture in some religions perhaps, but my daughter did not call me here to ferry you,” my mother answered him.

  “Oh, okay. So just Cecile’s mom then. That’s cool,” Darren said, nodding to me like he understood.

  I folded my arms and looked at my mom. “I had this. The spell didn’t work, but I’ll figure it out. I wasn’t trying anything advanced, just a standard summoning for his safe passage.”

  She floated toward us, the fabric of her dress moving like it was in water. “There was nothing wrong with the spell. None of the dead are able to leave Silverbrook. That is why I am here, my love.”

  “Oh, huh,” I replied scratching my head. “I mean, was it something I did? Was I saying incantations in my sleep again?”

  My mother laughed softly, the power of it stirring up all the energy in the room. Darren’s soul wavered, and he looked around, probably unsure of what he was feeling or what had caused it.

  It wasn’t often the goddess of death laughed, so when she did, it affected the energies around her, strengthening them. He didn’t need to know that. She laughed a lot around me, so I guess she thought I was funny.

  “I’m not sure, and that is why I came here—before another death god sticks its nose in. The rifters are already circling. I had to deal with them before I came,” my mother said with a hint of irritation.

  “Uck, yeah. That sucks. Are you staying for a while then? If so, I’ll get this place
cleaned up and we can grab some lunch. I’m starving,” I told her as I walked over to the podium. If the dead weren’t able to leave Silverbrook then this was going to be a long conversation and I might as well eat while I had to endure it.

  Did I want to talk to ghosts, accidentally resurrect mummies, and be surrounded by darkness and dead things? No, but that’s what happens when you are born a natural necromancer, and especially when you are the daughter of death.

  After I had snuffed out all the candles and swept the floor, Darren, my mother, and I found ourselves at my favorite local diner, the HopScotch. It was a charming diner on Main Street with all sorts of retro knick-knacks and collectibles. I dug the atmosphere, especially the mixed-tape shelf and the eighties My Little Pony collection.

  I decided to let Darren out on good behavior, plus my mom was with us, so there was no way he’d be able to give us the slip. He also appeared to be a little enamored with her, so I figured he’d stick around as long as my mother was there.

  A happy-looking waitress with cute short hair came over to take our order. “Hello everyone, my name is Denise. I’ll be your server. Can I start you guys out with some drinks?”

  “Uh yeah, my mother there will have two iced teas to start, I’ll have one, and he’s not having anything. We’ll see if he changes his mind later. Thank you,” I told the server with a smile.

  As she left, Darren asked, “How come she can see me? Is she special too?” He came in close as he whispered.

  “No, she can only see you because my mother is here, but you can’t eat food anymore and you’ll still pass through things if you try to pick stuff up,” I told him.

  “Actually, about that, how come I can’t pick things up, but I can sit in this booth?” Darren stood up and sat down three times to demonstrate.

  I waited for him to settle down before I answered. “Because you’re a new ghost and because you believe you can’t pick things up, but you do believe you can sit down. When I met you, you were sitting on a bench. You just sat down and didn’t even question it. You don’t have a physical body anymore. The way you interact with the world now is based on belief. Your thoughts shape your reality. If you truly believe you can pick things up, you will—but you don’t have to worry about that, you won’t be here long enough to need that skill.”