Death Magic Rules (Raised Book 2)

by Stevenson, Sharon

  “Why do you have clones?” I couldn’t help but ask.

  “Timothy, I can’t rely on you for the rest of my days, can I? You’re one man. I need more than that. There should be recruiters in every town. My reach should extend further than my Animate army here at the castle. More is always better.”

  The shiver that rushed down my spine couldn’t be controlled. I turned away, looking down at the man who’d just become my competition. He was shaking now. I wished him death, but I knew it wouldn’t take him. The hole the King had made was healing already. This clone was a User. He was like me, only he had no basic human rights. The King could use him and discard him as he saw fit. I stared up as King David headed to the next chamber in the row. I prayed for tainted clones. I got the feeling my life was going to depend on them.

  Fourteen – Pete

  I couldn’t sleep. The thought of heading back to a daily grind after the whole dying and coming back and all the other shit I’d just been through just seemed so bland and pathetic. What did I want to go and work at a stupid ticket booth for? Why did I have to still care about making money? Oh, aye, I’ve still got rent to pay. Damn it. I picked up my Animate manual and got back to studying it. There had to be a loophole I could abuse. Surely it was enough that I had to be Nick’s rabid zombie slave at the weekends?

  Sighing, I got to reading. Half an hour had passed when the rattling at the front door made me drop the damn book. Mickey’s laughter filled the hallway a few seconds later. I pulled back the covers and got up.

  “You sound drunk,” I told him, knowing he was the moment I saw him.

  He was rolling about the floor trying to get his trainers off and laughing too much to manage it.

  “You do know this isn’t where you live?”

  It was useless even talking to him. The front door was still open. I went to shut it, noticed his keys were still in the door and took them out before I shut it. I locked it behind him and knelt as he finally got his stupid shoes off. He was still tittering when he hauled himself up.

  “Good night, then?”

  “Pete, oh my god, Pete, you will not believe this… this thing she told me.” He stumbled into the wall as he headed to the living room. “Put the heating on, Bro.”

  I shook my head. He staggered onto the couch and crashed out. I went and got the spare sheets. He was snoring when I came back. I threw the covers over him and went to get a bucket, just in case. It always paid to have a bucket whenever Mickey was around.

  “Who goes there?” Dave startled me as I switched on the kitchen light.

  “Don’t you ever sleep, Dave?”

  He yawned. “Nope. Who’s snoring?”

  “It’s none of your business who’s snoring. This is my flat, Dave. You’re dead.”

  He snorted. “So are you. Don’t touch my stuff.”

  “Who’d want to?” I assumed he meant his room, which I hadn’t touched since he’d died. His parents had taken what they wanted to remember him by and left the rest. “Why, what are you hiding?”

  “Nothing. Stay out of my room.”

  “Are you actually still hanging around here because you don’t want anyone finding your porn stash?”

  “If I could leave I would.”

  “Hmm.”

  He shut up. I expected some song or other to start up, but it didn’t. I’d poked at a sore spot, apparently. I grabbed the bucket and headed back to the living room. Mickey was out cold. I wondered if he’d told Kit. It wasn’t like he’d be coherent enough to tell me if I woke him up.

  I went back to bed. The Animate Manual was probably my best bet for figuring out what to do about Dave. I could call on ghosts, command them even. I wondered what else there was. Could I command Dave to tell me why he was hanging around? Hmm. I kept reading.

  Fifteen – Kit

  It was after midnight when Mickey left. I don’t know how much we drank but it was a lot. The vodka bottle on the kitchen table was empty and I’d left the door to the bar open. We’d switched to ‘wine’ after the vodka was done.

  “Oh God,” I said, rushing the bathroom. I made it in time, but it felt like my stomach had been turned inside out by the time I was done throwing up. I wiped my mouth and flushed, staggering to my feet. Last time I ever drink Buckfast. I don’t know why the hell I’d let Mickey talk me into it. Already being drunk probably helped.

  I looked like shit. I splashed water on my face and checked out the clock. Would it really matter if I just didn’t open the pub today? I wasn’t sure I was done worshipping the porcelain gods for the day. I went into the living room and lay down on the couch carefully. I’d bruised my leg going into the pub without switching the light on. I touched the spot I’d hurt and winced. It was still sore.

  Closing my eyes, I decided I didn’t care about opening the pub. It wasn’t the weekend, and I couldn’t be bothered pulling myself together to go and make barely enough money to pay my own wages. It was a pathetic way to make a living, and I was sick of it. I wasn’t doing anything with my life. This couldn’t have been what Mum and Dad wanted for me. Maybe if I sold the place I could get enough money for a flat and I could go back to college. I sighed wearily. Kat would go mental. It was like she didn’t realise they weren’t coming back.

  I opened my eyes. Mickey was gay. He’d told me last night. It hadn’t seemed like a big deal at the time. We’d talked boys. It seemed weird now, almost unreal. The alcohol-addled haze made my doubt the memory. He’d admitted it, I’d joked that now I understood why he’d never asked me out and we’d laughed about the whole stupid situation. “Mickey’s into boys.”

  Okay, I could deal with that. No problem. What was the other thing that felt hazy and unreal? It was like my brain didn’t want me to remember. I’d had lustful thoughts about someone, someone who wasn’t Mickey. I could remember snatches of a sexy dream. Who was I dreaming about?

  I supposed it could have been Bradley Cooper or… Nope, it was staring me right in the face. I pushed the cake box away with one hand. “Oh my god,” I whispered. It was Nick! No freaking way. I did not fancy that weirdo creep. I ran to the bathroom, ready to be sick again.

  Sixteen – Mickey

  My head was pounding. I groaned and hauled the covers over my head. Light was getting into the room. I tried to stretch out and just about stumbled off the couch. So, I was at Pete’s place then. That was kind of a relief, I supposed. My lips always loosened when I was drunk. I had to make an added effort to steer clear of Pete’s mum when I was drunk. She had a way of getting information out of me Pete would rather she hadn’t heard.

  “Awake, are we?” Pete was looming over me, his shadow drowning the light from the window.

  I peeled back the covers. “Taking breakfast orders by any chance? I could go a McMuffin or three.”

  “So what happened last night?”

  Last night. I yawned. “Drinking happened. Lots of it.”

  “And?”

  “I told her,” I said. That was what he really wanted to hear anyway.

  “And?”

  “She was fine with it,” I said, yawning again after it. “Does that earn me any McMuffins?”

  “It’s eleven o’clock.”

  “So does it get me a Big Mac then?”

  He just sighed. He’d been expecting more. I couldn’t tell him what Kit had said about him. It wasn’t even close to what he wanted to hear. It was bad enough that she’d admitted to liking Nick. I still couldn’t quite make that information sink in. I couldn’t tell him. It was too messed up. I didn’t know what the hell Kit was thinking.

  “It’s good,” he said, nodding. “Thanks for telling her.” He had that book in his hand, the one that was supposed to instruct him on how to be dead. There was a book-mark halfway through it. He was actually reading it then.

  “How is it?” I motioned to the book.

  He yawned deeply and chucked the manual on the coffee table. “Distressingly boring.”

  “Looks it.” I really was hungry
, but it seemed like it would be rude to just leave when he was so mopey. “What’s the creepo got you doing today?”

  “I’ve to go sign up for a job.” He shrugged.

  “What job?”

  “Promise not to laugh.”

  “I’ll do no such thing.”

  “I’ve to work at the ticket office for the Horror Wax Museum.” He didn’t sound too happy about it.

  “Hey, why don’t you come and work at the casino?”

  He blinked. I think his face brightened though it was insanely hard to tell with that strange mottled blue skin. “Really?”

  “I can find something for you to do in the back office.” If the book-keeper had a problem with it, I’d ask her if she minded giving her job up to make room for him instead. The thought of aggravating that old boot made me smile.

  He hugged me when I stood up. “Thanks, Bro.”

  “No need to go all soppy on me,” I assured him.

  He dropped his arms, letting out a relieved breath. “Oh good, for a second there I thought I was going to have to buy you flowers and take you out to dinner.”

  “Well, dinner might not be out of the question. Lunch, at least.” I looked about for my trainers. I’d probably left them at the front door.

  “McDonalds?”

  He nodded. “I think I can spring for that.” His smiled faded. “Wait. Am I allowed in McDonalds?”

  “Eh…” I didn’t know. Some places had a ‘Strictly No Animates’ rule; a lot of restaurants enforced it. They didn’t eat so they had no good reason to go to those places. “I don’t know, Bro. I think you might be barred.”

  “I can’t get used to this.” He pulled at his hair.

  “Ask Nick for one of those glamour spell things. You can look human and we can go to the pictures or something.” A normal piss-about day in town was probably all that he needed.

  “I’ll need to see him about working for you instead of that other stupid job. Wait in the hall for me. I won’t be long.” He went out.

  I located my trainers, sneaking down the hall so as not to awaken the kitchen dragon aka Fat Dave the miserable bastard. Pete really needed to get a new room-mate. I pushed Dave’s old bedroom door inwards. It was kind of small, I supposed. Still, a bed was better than the couch…

  “Hoi!” Dave screeched from across the hall. “What do you think you’re doing? Get out of my room! Get out! Close the door, you nosy cunt.”

  “All right,” I said, closing the door over. “No need to have a big, fat, hairy fit. Douchebag.”

  “I heard that,” he told me.

  “You’re dead, Dave. Piss off already.”

  He didn’t bother replying, instead deciding to blast some music at me. It wasn’t his usual musical equivalent of gay-bashing either. He’d put on some kind of screechy emo rock song. I grabbed my trainers and headed into the hallway, closing the door on Dave’s pissy racket.

  I locked the door once I got my trainers on. They were still kind of damp from the day before. I really should have shoved them under a radiator when I got in… Oh right, I’d been out my face drunk. Ah, well. Pete should have thought to put my trainers under a radiator then, and to turn a radiator on, more to the point. Just because he was dead didn’t mean I had to put up with being cold all the damn time.

  “Hurry up,” I muttered, heading across the hall and listening outside the door. Either the door was too thick or they were too far away from it. I contemplated knocking and decided against it. I forced myself away from the door. My stomach was starting to grumble. “Aw, come on.”

  Pete came out finally, looking happier than I’d seen him since he’d been dead. He looked like himself again; pink-skinned and with a sparkle in his blue eyes. It was almost as if the whole episode with Britt had just been a thoroughly unpleasant dream.

  “I’ve got another day off,” he said.

  “How come?” I’d have thought Nick would have been working him to the bone as his slave. Maybe the creep wasn’t quite as bad as he seemed. Maybe Kit’s infatuation wasn’t totally groundless.

  “He’s busy. Who cares? I’ve got a day off. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Seventeen – Tim

  I stripped off with numb fingers and fell into bed only after I closed out the sunlight, drawing the heavy curtains shut with a swish of magic it drained my energy to even use. The long night had only begun in the cloning lab. The King had me go through a series of tests with the four ‘good’ clones we’d ended up with. They’d been boring, menial and pointless. The clones wouldn’t be imprinted with the information they needed to function until the King’s new team of bio-technicians could be hand-picked for the job. He refused to mention what had happened to the original team, but I could imagine.

  After the stupid tests, I’d been tasked with body disposals even though he had a perfectly good army of Animates he could call upon for physically laborious duties. I sighed and pulled at the covers, yanking them over my weary bones. ‘No magic’, he’d said when I attempted to used levitation to lift one of the bodies. He’d watched me closely while I worked. I’d ended up with all kinds of disgusting bodily fluids coating my suit. I’d burn it later. Right now, my eyelids couldn’t possibly stay open another second.

  If the buzzer by the door went off anytime in the next day, the chances were I wouldn’t hear it. I sank into sleep, bone-tired and mentally drained. I didn’t expect dreams but they came anyway, haunting my subconscious with vivid images I’d never be able to shake.

  King David was in his throne room, a blonde in a sparkling dress kneeling before him. His grin was marred by blood that dripped from his mouth when he moved. He stared at me, dark eyes glittering. The maniacal expression he wore was one I’d caught glimpses of in the past. Fear made my hands shake as I stepped back. I had to get out. The King shook his head. Of course, he knew what I was thinking. He wasn’t going to let me get away. My best chance at survival was to stay right where I was.

  He got up, moving down to touch the head of the blonde girl who was worshipping at his feet. Nine’s fearful gaze locked with mine when he grabbed her by the hair and hauled her to her feet. She cowered when he let her go, hands reaching out for him. My breath caught as she scurried and hid behind the King.

  “She’s afraid of you,” Britt’s voice came from my right. She had a far classier sparkling gown on and was standing up straight, a wry little smile on her beautiful face. “She broke. It was always going to happen. You couldn’t stop it. None of them are strong enough to take my place.”

  The King kicked Nine and she flinched, but she wouldn’t let go of his leg. She was acting like a child. The King turned to me, that maniac’s grin unnerving me. I folded my arms to hide my hands. They wouldn’t stop shaking, but at least he couldn’t see them anymore. My body was starting to feel the strain. It was as if the room was suddenly colder than the Arctic. I shuddered.

  “You’re bleeding, Timmy.” Britt gave me a plastic smile. Her eyes stared right through me. “He doesn’t need you anymore. No-one does.” She put her fingers on my chest and pushed.

  I fell back, catching sight of the blood on her hand as I hit the ground. The cold, hard ground only made it more obvious. The burning heat at my throat was from the wound that would kill me. I reached up; touching the slick mess the King had made ripping my throat out. My head swam. This couldn’t be how things ended.

  Britt knelt beside me, indulgent smile plastered over her flawlessly pretty face. “This is the only way it can end, Timmy. Don’t feel bad. You did the best you could.”

  I awoke dripping sweat, fingers rushing to my neck. My heart was racing, ready to burst. I sucked in a relieved breath, but there was nothing I could do to calm my body down. I wiped the sweat from my face and tried to slow my breathing. I’d never had a panic attack before, but I couldn’t seem to catch my breath right now. I was taking in air too quickly to let it get to the right places. It felt like my throat was swelling up, restricting how much air I could take in.
It was minutes before I calmed down enough to breathe normally. Those minutes had stretched out torturously.

  What the hell was that?

  It was like no dream I’d ever experienced. It had felt so real. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be. I was just freaking the hell out. I was afraid the King would find out what I’d done. I was afraid he already had. I reached over and turned the electric heater closest to the bed off. I was sweating buckets as it was. I had to get a grip. If he saw me like this, if he had any idea what I was hiding from him… I shuddered to think of what he’d do. There was only one thing that was certain; having my throat ripped out would be the least of my worries.

  Eighteen – Pete

  The blue-eyed blonde standing by in the lobby under a giant banner for the latest action blockbuster kept glancing at her watch and turning her head in the direction of the toilets. Mickey whacked my arm to apparently signal the queue moving forward. It was busier than I’d expected for a random weekday. I kept walking into the back of ignorant cunts who decided to suddenly stop and stand around for no apparent reason. Oh, okay, they probably had some kind of stupid reason, like being in a slow moving queue, but I just really wanted to smack them every time it happened anyway. I glanced back at the girl. She was still standing there, arms folded. She was exactly the kind of girl I’d have gone for before I’d been killed by exactly the kind of girl I didn’t go for. Kicking at the carpet, she muttered something under her breath. I didn’t zero in fast enough to catch what she was saying, but I figured it was something to do with a certain someone hurrying the hell up. I looked back at Mickey, who was checking out his wallet.

  “Hey, get the tickets. I’m going to the bogs.”

  Mickey just nodded, digging into the pile of cards in front of the wad of cash.