Kiss of the Necromancer (Memento Mori 1)

He lingered at the door for a moment, still with that mournful smile, before disappearing into the kitchen. It at least gave her a few moments to try to glue her head back on straight and think through what had happened.

She saw a vulture that was dead. And had moved. Right after seeing a rat that was dead. And had moved.

Rinaldo called him a necromancer.

Do I just flat out ask him?

Fuck it.

“Hey, Gideon?” she called.

“Yes, princess?” She could hear him rustling around in the kitchen, digging around through pans.

She ripped off the bandage. “Are you a necromancer?”

Silence.

The rattling of pots and pans started again. He didn’t answer her. She winced and sipped her chai. The tea was good—really good. It was clear he knew how to make it. About ten minutes later, he returned with a grilled cheese sandwich on a porcelain plate. He placed it down in front of her.

The look on his face was unreadable. It looked like he was going to be the one to be sick. And it also smacked of “here we go again.” She wasn’t sure why, but it looked like he was being forced to relive an uncomfortable family video.

“Fancy.” Picking up the plate, she looked down at the sandwich. Ciabatta bread and a mix of cheeses that were definitely a far cry from the lousy white bread and sliced, processed, pseudo-dairy that she could afford to eat. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He sat in a chair across from her and reached for his own cup of tea. It had probably gone cold, but he sipped it anyway and didn’t seem to mind.

The sandwich tasted great. Crunchy and gooey, just like grilled cheeses should be. They really were her favorite. He watched her, those silver eyes fixed on her, and only when she caught him staring did he glance away. Like he was…shy. Or nervous.

What an odd man.

“So…” She started between bites, making sure to swallow before speaking. No need to be gross. “Do you start talking, or do I start asking questions?”

“This is a difficult thing for me to explain. And I’m trying to do this delicately.” He shut his eyes and ran his hands through his longish white hair. It was short enough that it didn’t reach his chin, but long enough that he could sweep it back. Like the rest of him, and his home, it was classy. It kind of made her want to reach out and ruffle him, just to see what he’d do.

And because she wondered how good he would look if he were mussed up.

Focus!

“I guess I just need to know one thing.” She shifted to sit normally, putting her plate down on the glass top with a quiet clink. “All these blackouts I’ve been having. All these weird visions, and my missing memories…am I insane? Am I nuts?”

The air rushed out of his lungs. He sat back in the chair and watched her. “I am trying very hard not to lie to you, Margueri—”

“Answer me!” she snapped at him. “Am I insane, Gideon?”

Her anger caught him by surprise. He blinked before turning his attention out to his greenhouse. “It’s—”

“I swear to god that if you say ‘complicated’ I’m going to reach over this table and throttle you. I don’t know how, you’re twice my size, but I’m gonna find a way.”

He chuckled. The corners of his eyes creased as he smiled. “You’d manage, I’m sure. There’s very little that stands a chance between you and your goals once you set your mind on them.”

“Then answer me, Doctor—wait. Are you even really a doctor? Are you even really my doctor?”

“I am a doctor. That much is true.” He waved his hand to slow her down. “One thing at a time, please.”

“Whatever. All right. Start with the first one. Am I insane?”

“Technically, your first question was whether or not I was a necromancer.”

“Technically, my first question was asking you ‘what’s going on?’ and you refused to answer me.” She lifted her teacup to him in a mock salute. “So, I’ll settle for this. Pick one of my questions, any one of them, and start there.” She sipped the tea.