by Lisa Daniels
“I didn’t know,” Albert said. “I really didn’t.”
“It’s not your fault. I’m just glad the spirit remained benign all that time.”
“Could he have given me bad or good luck by staying?”
“Depends. Some spirits might be able to. But there’s no set manual that dictates what exactly they’re going to get. Sorry.”
They continued to talk, letting their subject slip between light and heavy. Happy to both be alive, happy that the spirit was finally banished to beyond.
“Do you feel sorry for Laogh’s spirit?” Albert asked, since he was aware that Laogh McKenna didn’t exactly have the best life possible.
“A little. She was a selfish, vindictive individual when alive, but she was also a victim of circumstance. And bad circumstances breed bad people. People don’t realize that, you know. They think that whatever they had in life, it can be resolved in death. Heaven and Hell, Paradise or Enlightenment—but truthfully, your quirks follow you to the Other Side, and then become magnified. So if you were a bitter and jealous person when alive, you’re a great candidate to become something much worse in death. We get ghosts, poltergeists, ghouls, and even some spontaneous zombies with this selection.”
“Spontaneous zombies?”
“Not all those coffins with scratch marks in them are because the occupant was alive,” she said ominously. Albert shuddered to think about that, but at the same time, he found the talk fascinating. All these things he still didn’t know. And if he stayed around Rosen, he’d learn them all. She seemed more willing to share her secrets than the others, more willing to trust, and that trust was so precious, so fragile, that he was scared to break it.
“My family’s flying in,” she said with a little less relish. “I told them not to waste their time and money, but they insisted. So there’s that, I suppose. I’m surprised you didn’t need to get treatment yourself, by the way.”
“We shifters can endure more than others. We also regenerate damage. I mean, we can still die, but it’s just a lot harder to take us down.”
“I bet.” She brought his hand up to her cheek for a moment. “Hopefully you won’t need to take too many bullets. But there’s no real guarantee with a councilman as a father. And...” She paused, making a grinding noise with her teeth. “Well, it’s not exactly the first time someone’s tried to kill me, and I’ve ended up in the hospital.”
He wondered if she still thought about the last attempt. If she got nightmares from it. Certainly there seemed to be some sort of darkness about her when she referred to it. But unfortunately, it wasn’t his job to banish that darkness. Only to keep more of it at bay.
The fallout from the news died off over the next week. Rosen’s father and sister visited, but not her mother, and the other necromancers made a full recovery. Esther Leroy was still in her coma when they departed for Lasthearth again, leaving the drab gray of Stoneshire behind, and a grateful Hargraves, who had also informed them that the clamor around the bones was generating even more popularity than before. As for the death toll, it was already being swept under the rug, passed off as a bizarre coincidence, since informing the masses that one out-of-control bad spirit could wreak this much destruction wouldn’t exactly do wonders for the mental health of the general population.
So they kept it under wraps, and Rosen returned to her father’s estate to find all her belongings from the apartment in a heap in her bedroom. None of the belongings seemed to include anything of remote value, like the television, PlayStation, toaster, microwave, and vacuum cleaner they had jointly invested in. Her ex had promptly decided by himself that his half was more than her half, and besides, she came from a well-off family anyway, so what did it matter?
Albert had to endure Rosen moping around a little after it hit home that she and her boyfriend of god knows how many years had split up, and she also started avoiding Albert as well, resigning him to the neutral, polite bodyguard. The person he was supposed to be around her. He needed to do better. To match his contract.
Though a part of him felt a little disappointed she had chosen to go down this route, rather than to potentially consider another approach. Like what, though?
The distance remained when she worked in her usual position. He kept himself at a professional distance, watching her throw herself back into routine, into paperwork, and refusing one case sent her way where they wanted her to inspect a mass grave site in Rwanda, believing that there was a dangerous gathering of souls, which had claimed the lives of a few archaeologists already due to bad luck.
When she refused another case in the span of a month, he felt, in a manner, that she had lost her bite. The professional in him respected her healthy instinct to avoid dangerous situations.
The friend in him thought it a bad sign, that she now stuck to safer territory, preferring not to disturb the waters.
In short, he wondered if Rosen Grieves was broken.
Chapter Eleven – Rosen
Rosen sat in the garden on a picnic bench close to the pet cemetery. It was hard, keeping things normal between her and Albert. She tried. She really tried. She stopped sharing as much with him, resisted any inner impulses to become intimate, even though her mind liked to voraciously run through the moments of their only time together that way, plucking up details of all the five senses incorporated, and sometimes plucking up new ones she hadn’t noticed picking up at the time. Like the rough, animal-like passion, mixed in with the gentle, attentive kindness he displayed. Like she was something to be treasured and something to be claimed, and something worthy of attention.
More than she’d ever gotten with James.
It messed with her head big-time. She thought she had everything with James. Sure, maybe it was tepid at times, but it wasn’t terrible. He did attempt to please her in bed, he did have his own charms… but he didn’t conjure up a living inferno in her blood as Albert did. Maybe it was just the alcohol that gave that effect. Maybe it was just the thrill of someone new, powerful, and dark, with the way his yellow eyes glinted. Perhaps something in his smiles and expressions that reminded her of the predator he became.
But it wasn’t just all that, either. Sure, she liked the feeling of being with him, but her interest had started sooner, with him not being afraid to speak up. To address her, to genuinely help out on matters she usually didn’t bother discussing with anyone else. His desire to go beyond the call of duty, his reminders that necromancers were worthy of existing.
It felt strange to be reminded of those things, but at the same time, she needed those reminders.
Unfortunately, she shouldn’t be blurring the lines between them. He would leave at the end of the contract, or stay for longer—but it was simply not his job to attend to her in any other way than for her protection.
He could keep it professional.
She could not. She wasn’t mature enough to endure such kindness and dedication without falling a little in love herself. So it was better to keep the distance. Besides, he might be slightly alarmed with the speed of her attraction, too.
“Is everything alright, Miss Grieves?” Albert regarded her, looking a little bothered by the heat bearing down upon them. Some small dots of sweat formed under his hair and gave his face a glistening sheen. “Are you still thinking about the case you were handling yesterday? You seemed rather troubled then, too.”
“Yes,” Rosen lied, thankful he gave her an out, since the real reason she happened to be staring off into distant space might not be as well received. “I’m worried there will be more incidents like that. People attempting to make a profit off the dead.”
“Still… it’s rather imaginative, if nothing else. There has been a big rise in preppers, in people going to extreme roleplaying events for their own entertainment.”
Rosen snorted, leaning on her fist and feeling the warmth of the table bake into her elbow. “I get making a zombie apocalypse camping adventure and having your fake ‘survivors’ face off against your fake ‘zombi
es’. But actually using dead bodies and reanimating them to give the survivors something to shoot at… well, I mean you’d need a medical license with the bodies, for a start. And the necromancer behind it… they bring shame to those of us who do good, honest work. It’s infuriating, really.”
“It’s not a bad idea. Just illegal,” said Albert. “But I could see something like that becoming more popular in the future.”
“Not if I arrest all of them.” She smiled at him, and he shared a smile back, which made her instantly uncomfortable, looking down at the table instead. There followed an awkward pause between them, before an unmistakable huff of exasperation slipped out of Albert’s lips. Her heart froze up instantly. Her mind also started running through using her break-up with James as an excuse if he addressed her about her obvious avoidance. Even though, to be honest, she was over him, because their attraction had fizzled out long ago. Just took a while for her brain to catch up with it.
“Miss Grieves. I still have around four months and a bit of my contract. If you find me too difficult to deal with, or too embarrassing, I would appreciate being told to my face, and we can then look into other arrangements more suitable for you.”
“I don’t find you difficult,” said Rosen, puffing herself up indignantly. “I’m just trying to keep things good between us.”
“Hmm.” Albert approached the table and sat down opposite her. “You say that, but I can’t help but see it differently, Miss Grieves.” He hesitated a moment, as if gathering his thoughts to say something long since troubling him. “I think that you have been more embarrassed about what we shared than you’re willing to admit. Understandable, but I assure you that I won’t be seeking to romance you or push things further. I simply wish to do my job, and do it well.” Something flashed in his eyes that made her wonder if this was really the truth or not.
“Don’t worry, I’m not at all concerned about that. You did nothing wrong, Albert.”
He frowned. “Okay.” As he tapped his fingers on the table, the frown deepened. “So if I did nothing wrong and you know that I intend to do my job the way it should be done, why have you been so evasive with me?”
“It’s James,” she said instantly, springing into her premade excuse. “I’m just… I’m still hung up over him. And I feel like I cheated on him with you when I know I shouldn’t have.” A lie, but a plausible one. Because that wasn’t why she was avoiding Albert at all.
Albert Ortez made a sucking sound with his teeth. “You feel guilty for being with me?”
“Yes.” She gave a nervous laugh. “It was a pretty big lapse in judgment… I’m sorry.”
“Didn’t you specifically state that you knew that it was no strings attached? That you just wanted a distraction?”
“Yes...”
“And now I’ve just told you that you needn’t worry about things on my end.”
“Is that really true, though?” she said, suddenly feeling a need to lash out, as a mild form of panic had gripped her. “There’s really nothing to worry about on your end? Or is that just a lie to make it all seem better?”
“What?” Now he looked at her as if she were possessed. “I’ve told you already. If you can’t trust my words, Miss Grieves, then we have a problem.”
“You just don’t want to lose your job,” she said, and his expression darkened. A long, horrible silence fell between them, and she wished in that silence to be able to take her stupid words back.
“I will tell the police department that you are in need of another bodyguard,” he said, rather stiffly. “I will stay until it is confirmed that you have new protection, and then take my leave.”
He stood up, walked a short distance, then stood still, quiet and icy.
If he left, her own feelings would no longer matter. The problem would resolve itself. It was the most logical thing to do, for sure.
Except… she was pretty sure if he left in this manner, she’d be burdened with regret. And he deserved so much more than to be lied to, after everything he’d done.
“Wait. I’m sorry. Come back.”
He didn’t respond for a moment, and she wondered if he hadn’t heard her. But then he moved, slowly, reluctantly, coming back to the table and sitting opposite her once more.
“What?”
Her heart beat rapidly, like she’d been plunged in a race. Her mouth went dry and nervous, and the task of a few honest words, the truth lying within her, seemed impossible all of a sudden.
Yet she needed to fight past that. “I...” She swallowed that incredibly annoying lump in her throat, along with an unpleasant amount of saliva. “I shouldn’t have made that judgment with you. After my boyfriend broke up with me.”
He remained silent, which enticed her to say more, to justify further. “Truthfully, Albert, it was a bad judgment call on my part, because I thought I could control my feelings. I thought that I could do it. But I think I was lying to myself, really.”
Now a small, dim light of realization lit up Albert’s yellow eyes. He still didn’t say anything, but his demeanor changed, becoming more interested rather than guarded, focusing entirely upon her.
“I enjoyed it, yes. But I enjoyed you as a person, too. How you never held me accountable for being a necromancer, and supporting me when others didn’t. You said exactly what I needed to hear, and despite what you’ve covered, never pushed me beyond what was necessary. Some people might slightly lose their heads over something like that. I know I did.” She fell into an embarrassed silence, rubbing her fingers against one another as a nervous distraction.
“Did you now?” His words rasped, and she chuckled, though she didn’t feel it.
“I became… aware that I might not have the resolve to keep my feelings separate. Maybe you can, but I don’t think I can. I’m not used to that attitude. I’m like a baby duck imprinting on the first thing I see.” She scratched the back of her neck. Now that the whole confession was just spewing out of her, she wondered why she’d ever bothered to try and keep it in.
“I see,” he said evenly. Though there was a trace of a smile around his lips. “That’s quite understandable, Miss Grieves. So you’ve been keeping your distance because you don’t believe that you have the fortitude of mind to keep matters neutral between us?”
“Yes,” she said, the word escaping her like a sigh. “I don’t think I can. I think I’ll just keep wondering, and wanting. There might be some slight objectifying involved, too.”
He stared down at her clasping hands, and she stopped in slight shame, thinking that she was throwing him off his train of thought with her fidgeting. What a sight she must be now. Rosen Grieves, detective, necromancer, and teacher all in one, always dedicated to her work, squirming like some high school girl. Her colleagues would laugh into their desks. Her father would tell her to snap out of it. Not appropriate behavior for a necromancer at all.
That carefully cultivated image would evaporate in a second.
“Thank you for telling me this, Miss Grieves,” Albert said, sounding way more cheerful than Rosen had anticipated. “Do you wish me to leave in light of these revelations? The last thing I want, of course, is to trouble you further.”
“I don’t want you to leave,” she admitted. “I don’t want another bodyguard. You’re very good at your job.”
“Ah yes, of course. It would be terribly inconvenient, wouldn’t it? But are you sure?”
“No. All I know is that I don’t want you to leave.” Now came the biggest, scariest thing to say out of them all. “But if I was to… get too pushy, too clingy… you’d tell me, right? You’d stop me?”
“Miss Grieves… no—Rosen,” he said, and the use of her name sent an electric thrill inside her. “I’d do whatever you wanted me to do—within reason, of course.”
“Within reason?”
Now his smile broke out into a grin. “Though this might be less than professional of me to admit, I will say that I’m not opposed to changing the nature of our relationship to on
e another. But only if you did not mind, of course.”
“Wait, what? You… you don’t find my admission threatening?”
“Threatening? Why on earth would I find it so? I like you. I wouldn’t mind us spending more time getting to know each other. But I assure you that this won’t get in the way of my task to protect you. I don’t even mind waiting until after the contract’s done, and approaching you then.” He reached out a hand to clasp over hers. “So maybe I was lying a little when I agreed to it being casual, as well.”
“You were, weren’t you?” Rosen said, now grinning herself. The lead feeling in her stomach had evaporated instead in favor of a light, airy sensation that ballooned her with happiness. Out of all the things she expected him to react with, this was the one she’d hoped for the most, and barely dared admit to herself that her hopes were strung on this.
“It’s hard not to fall a little bit for someone like you,” he said, and she flushed, this time with happiness and slight disbelief.
“I can think of a lot more eligible people out there. Ones that don’t work to the same extent I do, or constantly sacrifice their social lives in the process.”
“We can find a way to work around it,” he said earnestly. She took in his casual attire, his serious expression, and the balloon sensation continued to swell up in her, until she thought she might explode with happiness.
“I don’t want something like this to be public yet. Whatever this is,” she added.
“It’s whatever you want it to be,” he said with a glint of mischief in his eyes. He stood up and leaned closer, until she could feel the light puffs of his breath upon her lips. “Though I warn you there may be times where I’ll find it quite difficult to keep my hands off you.”
“Well, now...” she drawled, before leaning forward to cover the last few inches of space and lightly kissing him on the lips. After a quick glance around to make sure nobody was watching, of course. “I think I’ll be good with that. I wonder what it’ll take for you to lose control…?”