Affairs of the Dead Read online

  “I don’t think I’m going to be the one getting on your nerves today,” Larry said.

  I shot him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He put his hands behind his head and strolled away, whistling. “You’ll see, doll.”

  I rolled my eyes. My plow through my desk clutter still hadn’t yielded my folder of appointments, so I started rummaging through my equally cluttered drawers, wondering if I had taken the file home. The folder wasn’t in any of the drawers, but I did uncover my bag of rune stones. They thrummed with energy, and I wished I could tap into one of them and give myself a little boost, but alas, rune stones were for the dead, not the living.

  I tossed the stones into my handbag. See how determined I was not to be unprepared next time?

  I was cursing under my breath over the fact that I still couldn’t find my appointment folder, when someone’s shadow dropped over me, and I emerged from under my desk. I had resorted to sorting through the junk I’d kicked under there to see if the folder had fallen down. When I saw who stood over me, it didn’t help push my mood in a better direction.

  “What do you want, Micah?”

  Micah Stone was a fellow necromancer, and if I had to be honest, he was one of the better-looking ones. Over six feet tall, broad-shouldered, and with enough curly black hair to star in a shampoo commercial. He was of mixed race, and his soft hair complemented skin that was a few shades lighter than mine, and he sported the rare gray eye color.

  I knew the sight of him elicited many a sigh from the ladies, and a couple of the men, in the office. When it came to me though, there were no sighs to be had.

  About a year ago, Micah and I had gone out for drinks that led to a drunken night of sex that then resulted in…nothing at all. I was used to hitting and quitting, as I knew Micah was, but I don’t think he was used to being on the receiving end of it. After that night, his attitude toward me had turned sour, and I took it to mean that he was disgruntled over the fact that I’d slept with him but hadn’t fallen under his spell. But that was his hole to stand in, not mine.

  “Boss wants to see you,” he said. “Sent me specifically to deliver the message.”

  “Is that supposed to mean something?” I asked, still trying to uncover my folder. He just shrugged.

  “It’s a rather pressing matter, so I don’t suggest you keep Andrew waiting.”

  “And I suggest you bite me,” I said. I then stood up and slammed my palms onto my desk. “Where is that damn file?”

  Micah chuckled, and I glared at him. Then I brushed past him and headed to the boss’s office at the other end of the suite, not because he’d told me not to keep Andrew waiting, but because I knew Micah would hang around being a pain in the ass until I got up. It really was a shame that our drunken night had deteriorated our relationship, because prior to that, we’d gotten along just dandy. Micah’s ego must really be floating around the stratosphere for him to be this bitter toward me all this time later.

  Andrew McNabb’s office was away from the main cubicle area and down a short hallway where there were only his office at the end and a nook that served as one of the suite’s copy areas. I waltzed in without bothering to knock, then plopped myself onto the chair in front of Andrew’s sleek, meticulously neat mahogany desk. I propped my feet up on the corner, giving a nice view of my legs, but Andrew continued to type on his computer and didn’t make any indication that he knew I had entered his office.

  I didn’t take it personally. That was Andrew for you. He was forty-two but looked younger and had been head of Affairs of the Dead for over ten years. He’d taken over when his father retired.

  If Micah was broad shouldered, Andrew was broader. He didn’t look bulky, but he definitely had the type of body that showcased the fact that six days out of seven, he was at the gym. He also had a smile that could blaze through the murkiest bullshit, steely blue eyes, and dark brown hair that was always perfectly styled.

  In case I had to spell it out, he was sexy.

  Finally, Andrew turned his chair around so he could face me, clasping his hands together on the desk and leaning forward on his forearms. He took the time to let his eyes travel up my legs to my face, where I had a smile waiting for him. He flashed me his pearly whites before his face sobered, which was unusual. There was usually at least ten minutes of flirting and witty banter before we got down to business.

  “You wanted to see me, boss?” I said, picking up one of the paperweights on his desk and idling it in my hands.

  “There are some issues we need to discuss, Selene,” he said.

  I raised an eyebrow. It actually sounded like he'd called me in here for something serious. He reached under a pile and pulled out a recognizable blue folder.

  “You have my appointment folder?” I asked, drawing my feet off his desk and sitting up. “Why the hell did you take it?”

  “Because you’re being taken off appointments and reassigned to track and retrieval.”

  At those words, I was on my feet, with my palms planted on his desk and my face thrust into his. Andrew didn’t bat an eye.

  “You can’t be serious!” I said. “What the hell for?” Surely he was just fucking with me. There was no way he was really putting me on track and retrieval.

  “Sit down, and let’s discuss this calmly,” Andrew said.

  I fumed and huffed but sat back down, crossing my arms tightly over my chest, which only made my cleavage more obvious. Andrew dropped his gaze to have a look before raising his eyes back to mine.

  “Exhibit A,” Andrew began. “Last night you took a ghost to a strip club and paid a stripper five thousand dollars to have sex with her. And instead of using rune stones, you taxed your own energy to accomplish your goal. Do tell, how were you going to word last night’s activities in your write-up?”

  I ground my teeth and looked away from him. I hadn’t actually mapped out the story for this one yet, but it definitely wasn’t going to involve the words “strip club” or the fact that I blew my expense budget to pay a stripper to have sex with a ghost.

  “Selene,” Andrew said, bringing my gaze back to him.

  He was sitting there very calmly. No shouting or screaming over my rule-breaking activities, but Andrew wasn’t the screaming type. It was actually his calmness that people feared. I didn’t, but today could be an exception. To my surprise, Andrew’s lips twitched into a smile.

  “I have to applaud your tenacity,” he said. “But do I really have to remind you that sex with ghosts is one hundred percent illegal? Especially paying for it? I won’t even bother to harp on the fact that you spent five thousand dollars on it, since having an expense budget isn’t going to be an issue for you for a while.”

  I felt like I’d died a little inside. “How do you even know about last night?”

  “I had you followed,” he replied smoothly.

  I balked. “What?”

  “I had every right to,” Andrew said. “Considering last night wasn’t the first time you engaged in excursions you knew were against the rules.” He pulled out another file and started to flip through the pages. “Three weeks ago, you helped a ghost break into his ex-girlfriend’s apartment to steal his dog back since he died without resolving the custody battle over the dog. Then you drove the ghost and dog to North Carolina to leave the dog with the ghost’s parents.” He flicked his eyes to me, then back down to the file. “Last month, you arranged for a ghost to go sky diving and had to use over a dozen rune stones to keep the skydiving equipment strapped on. And last week, you helped a ghost haunt her high school prom as payback for the bullying she’d received from her classmates. Two students had seizures as a result of their fright, and a dozen others went into shock.” He closed the file. “I could continue, but I think you get the point.”

  “So what?” I said dully.

  “Selene…”

  I threw up my hands. “I was just doing my job—helping ghosts! Is it my fault I get stuck with clients who want to commit cr
imes, jump out of planes, and get laid?”

  “You know as well as anyone else that there’s a solution for ghosts whose issues can’t be resolved.”

  “But they could be resolved!” I said. “And I resolved them. They all faded!”

  “And you only broke the law, spent an exorbitant amount of the company’s money, and caused teenagers trauma to do it?”

  I opened my mouth, closed it, then slumped back against the chair. “Well excuse me if I thought my methods were less extreme than the alternative. I thought we tried to avoid doing a necromancer circle at all costs.”

  “When the choices are things like necrophilia versus doing a circle, doing the circle wins,” Andrew said. “And you know that.”

  I dropped my head back and made a sound of exasperation. Andrew was right, and damn it, I hated when anyone except me was right.

  It was normal to expect that, sometimes, a ghost’s unresolved business was too bizarre or illegal for us to help them with, so in those cases, a necromancer circle was performed to force the ghost into the afterlife. The thing about a circle though, was that it needed at least half a dozen necromancers to perform and required us to use our own energy, not rune stones.

  Because we used our own energy, and we needed to use a lot since we were forcing a ghost to cross over, it was dangerous to everyone involved. Many necromancers died as a result of a circle. And there was also the chance that the ghost could be strong enough to resist being forced into the afterlife, turn into a beastie, escape our hold, and unleash a massacre.

  So were the things I did to help my clients costly, wrong, and/or illegal? Yes, but I still said my methods were better than having to endure a necromancer circle.

  “I just can’t agree that a circle would have been the better choice,” I said. “Nowadays, no one even volunteers to be part of a circle, so for all those ghosts, you’d have had to force me and a half dozen other necromancers to endure the thing and hope we came out of it alive.”

  “Between you and me, I’m likely to agree with you, but the government has their hawk eye on businesses like ours, and the last thing we want them to get wind of is activities like yours. Here, we may be able to get away with gray areas, but the government is black and white only. So in those terms, sex with ghosts is a no, and a life-threatening circle that could result in a ghost monster or half a dozen dead necromancers is a yes.”

  “Democracy is a wonderful thing,” I muttered.

  “Your reckless behavior is the reason I had you followed,” he said. “That way, I could see what you were doing and compare it to what you were putting in your reports. You have quite the knack for lying.” Again, there was an amused smile on his face.

  I bowed my head. “Thank you, I work hard at that talent.”

  Andrew sighed and shook his head. “I don’t like playing the bad guy, Selene, especially with you, but you’re giving me no choice here. I can’t let your actions go unchecked.”

  “I wasn’t going out of my way to misbehave,” I said. “It’s not like I was trying to stick my middle finger up at you and whatever hawk eyes are watching.”

  “I know,” he said. “You were just getting the job done, and trust me, I applaud your avant-garde methods even though they were costly, but I can’t let you continue to do whatever you want. I’m not the only one who’s noticed, and you don't want everyone thinking you’re getting special treatment, am I right?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Fine, I’ve been bad, but track and retrieval? Seriously? Can’t you just suspend me or something?”

  “Protocol means I have to try methods of discipline before suspending you,” Andrew said.

  I wanted to mutter and growl but settled for giving Andrew the evil eye instead, even though the logical part of me knew it had only been a matter of time until this day came. I had been playing with fire far longer than someone else would have gotten away with. I detested my punishment though. Track and retrieval meant I’d be hunting down ghosts who were hiding out.

  While the majority of ghosts willingly answered the call of rune-covered buildings like ours, some were able to resist and go into hiding. Needless to say, we couldn’t ignore those ghosts, because the end result was a rampaging monster. If the ghosts chose to hide at fancy hotels instead of rat-infested basements or dark alleys in bad neighborhoods, then track and retrieval would be a much more savory task. But alas, rat-filled basements and dark alleys it was.

  I wanted to bang my head on Andrew’s desk and spite him by splattering it with my blood. Then I’d be able to take sick leave and avoid having to be reassigned for a while.

  “Since tracking is mainly done at night, during the day, you’ll be assigned various other tasks. Starting today.” He picked up yet another file and slid it over to me. I stared at it without touching it. “That file covers the conditions of your reassignment as well as a schedule of assignments for the week. You have to abide, or things will become a lot more difficult for you. I understand this isn’t ideal, but you brought it upon yourself so you only have yourself to blame. I suggest you get started on your day’s work, because come sundown, you’ll be on track duty.”

  I became progressively angrier as he spoke, and by the time he was done, my head felt ready to explode. However, instead of sticking around to mouth off some more, I snatched up the file and stalked out of his office.

  “Go see one of the dead witches before you do anything else,” he called after me. “After last night, you’ll definitely be needing some dead witch attention.”

  I slammed the door without replying and marched back to my desk, tossing the file aside and sitting there with my arms crossed, looking very much like a petulant child.

  “So how’s your day going?” Micah’s voice made my head snap to the side to glare at him. He had a smile on his face as he leaned against my cubicle wall with his hands in his pockets. His demeanor clued me in as to who Andrew had set on my trail.

  “You were the one doing recon for Andrew,” I said, standing up and giving him an unfriendly look.

  Micah shrugged. “It’s your own fault that you can’t do your job by following the rules. You deserve your downgrade, though I would have just suspended you with no pay.”

  “Do you really get personal joy from seeing someone else fall?” I said, taking a step toward him. “Or is it just me?” His smile wavered a little. “I get that if Andrew asked you to follow me, you had to do it because it’s your job, but to come here and gloat because my off-color methods of helping ghosts doesn’t sit well with the boss? You’re a special breed of jerk, aren’t you Micah?”

  I spoke loudly enough that people nearby could hear me, but now I stepped closer and dropped my voice so only he could hear.

  “You and I were friends, then one drunken fuck makes me your worst enemy? Was it because you were that bad and I didn’t give you another chance, or because I was that good and I never let you get another taste?” With that, I stalked past him and the dozen pairs of eyes that tried to look away as though they hadn’t been paying attention to us.

  I hoped my parting words had stung. I headed out of the suite to the elevators, but I wasn’t storming off. I was just doing what Andrew said and heading down to the eighth floor to see a dead witch. Doing so would not only get me away from Micah, it would accomplish what I knew I needed to do even without Andrew saying it.

  The eighth floor was a lot quieter than the tenth, and I was thankful for that since I was fuming over Micah’s mockery and my own downfall. I signed in at the receptionist’s desk, then walked away without waiting to be told which dead witch was available for me to see. There was only one I ever saw.

  I knocked on Ilyse’s door, and moments later she invited me in. When I slipped in and sank into the chair in front of her desk, she gave me a knowing smile.

  “You forgot your rune stones and overworked yourself,” she said, clasping her hands in front of her much like Andrew did. Man did I feel like a kid in the principal’s office today.

/>   I nodded, suddenly feeling a lot more tired than a moment ago, probably because I was actually acknowledging that I had overdone it. Or maybe it was just the ambiance of Ilyse’s office, which I found soothing. My anger at Andrew and Micah had almost immediately dissipated once I’d sat down.

  The lighting was softer than the bright lights on tenth, and she had sweet, vanilla-scented oil burning on a corner of her desk. Her office decorations were nature-oriented. There were stones, flowers, leaves, and wood everywhere, and everything culminated to make her sleek, flat-screen computer seem very out of place.

  Ilyse clucked her tongue and rummaged around in a drawer for a moment before producing a box of tea bags. She then walked over to the corner of the room where she had a table set up with a few kitchen essentials, including an electronic kettle, and made me a cup of tea. I sipped it, knowing it was a specially infused tea, and the ache in my body started to ease.

  Ilyse watched me with her sharp green eyes, which stood out against her dark skin. She was in her late fifties, a little on the plump side due to her love of baked goods, of which I was admittedly a constant supplier, and was also the best dead witch we had, in my opinion. After I finished my tea, she took the cup and sat next to me, turning so we faced each other. She also had several rune stones with her.

  “Let me see how much damage you’ve done this time,” she said, taking one of my hands in hers. “You were due to come here three days ago, you know.”

  She rolled her eyes at the winning smile I gave her, and focused on what she was doing. She picked up a white rune stone and closed her eyes, holding it over my hand and slowly moving it up my arm while muttering something inaudible. My body temperature plummeted, but that was to be expected. Ilyse was surveying the damage done to my body on account of working with ghosts.

  Being a necromancer gave me the power to see and interact with ghosts, but constantly working with foreign energy like a dead spirit’s meant no necromancer came away without some damage. Dead witches mainly worked in Leech Houses, gathering energy and infusing it into rune stones for us, but they also worked with necromancers to draw out the dead energy that clung to us, which could literally break us down from the inside out. That was what we called the Rot, and if we didn’t see a dead witch on a regular basis, our work with ghosts would decay our metaphysical bodies where our necromancer power was stored, and without that, our physical bodies would also decay. Basically, we’d be good and dead.