Dreams of the Necromancer (Memento Mori 2)

8

The Flask was an adorable pub,Maggie decided. Everyone had fantastic accents, the food was great, and the drinks were even better. She decided to take it slow, nursing her beer through the appetizer course. She hadn’t eaten much that day, and she was a lightweight at the best of times.

She stared down at the menu in her hands, namely because she was still reeling from the sudden kiss that Gideon had planted on her. She tried to focus on the words in front of her, but she just kept getting pulled back to that moment and how it felt.

Neither of them had brought it up as they walked to the restaurant and were seated. Hell, neither of them said much of anything. Every now and then she’d glance up to see him either looking at her with an odd mix of emotions or also studying the menu.

It had been a good kiss. No, fuck that, it had been an amazing kiss. It felt like she had tasted an avalanche or a tsunami—like if she had stayed there for a moment longer, she would have been crushed under the force of something immense and that was begging to be free.

Something occurred to her.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

“Hey…Gideon?”

“Hm?”

She put her menu down on her plate and reached over the table to grab some of the truffle popcorn they had ordered. The idea of fancy popcorn had made her chuckle, so they ordered it just to find out what it was like. The answer was that it was super tasty, if a little salty for her tastes. “Can I ask you a super personal question?”

“I believe that’s what tonight is about, isn’t it?” He set his own menu down and straightened his shoulders, as if bracing himself for what was about to happen.

“I asked you if we were lovers, and you said no. But have we ever had sex? Even once?”

The look of utter wide-eyed shock and mortification on his face made her laugh. That only made matters worse. She started to apologize but stopped as he took hold of his martini and downed it all in one go before coughing and gesturing to a waiter that he would like another.

That only made her laugh harder.

“I do not know how to take this new game of yours. You delight in tormenting me. I’ve lifted a harpy from the grave.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “By the gods, Marguerite. What the hell kind of question is that?”

“One that makes your neck turn bright red, apparently.” She was grinning as she picked up her beer to take another sip.

“Yes, well, I consider myself a gentleman, and that’s hardly an appropriate question to ask.”

“A gentleman who smashed me up against a wall, and I’m pretty sure if I hadn’t been so shocked I couldn’t react, would have actually smashed me against that wall, if you get my meaning.”

Judging by the growing redness in his neck, yes, he did get her meaning. He tapped his fingers on the table nervously as he eyed his empty martini glass. “I apologize for that. I simply…I couldn’t help myself, and I regret—”

“I liked it, Gideon.”

They fell silent as the waiter brought over a second martini and took the empty glass with him as he left. She reached over the table again and this time grabbed a piece of bread from a basket and tore a small chunk off it. She never really liked bread with butter on it. Seemed like overkill and just buried the flavor of the bread.

Gideon was still drumming his fingers on the table, his posture rigid, before he finally let out a long, heavy sigh, and his shoulders drop away from his ears. He sipped this martini. “Marguerite, I feel this is unfair to you. You don’t remember all that’s passed between us, and I…” He trailed off.

“You haven’t answered my question, by the way.”

He winced. “I had hoped you wouldn’t notice.”

“Nah. I’m really good at that game, apparently. Rinaldo tried the same thing with me, and it doesn’t work.”

“Yes. Right. The priest.” He shook his head and went to start another sentence before stopping. “Here I am attempting to dodge and change the subject again.” He paused. “No, Marguerite. We have never made love.”

“Have you been with anybody else in the past…I don’t know, however-long-it’s-been?”

Drearily, he shook his head. “How can I, when you own my heart?”

“Because sometimes a person just has to get some, or else they’ll explode.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Hopefully not literally, but I don’t know how being a lich works, so…”