Chapter 9

 

Once Darria opened the kitchen door, Gabbie knocked her to the floor. Her tongue swiped upward, catching the tip of her nose and covering her with slobber. The gargoyle’s paws wrapped around her neck, and its claws sunk into her shoulders. She didn’t mind the pain and hugged the creature back. Her deep, rumbling purr vibrated Darria’s chest.

“I’m so glad you’re back. Omar’s been such a bear. Where did you go? You’ve been gone for two weeks.”

“Two weeks? Who’s been taking care of the bodies?” Darria asked.

“Marie. She’s been great. None of the hunters have suspected that you were gone.”

“That’s great. Gabbie, you gotta get off me. I can’t breathe.”

The gargoyle moved off Darria and sat on the floor. “Wait. You can hear me.”

Darria stood up and stretched. She did a double take and stared at the gargoyle. Before she could answer, she was hit with another rush of energy and strong fingers on her throat that worked her shoulder. Her first instinct was to discipline him and throw him off of her, but Darria resisted. She couldn’t hurt Omar. Instead, she touched his wrist nub and pushed a little bit of energy into him, thinking it would do nothing except give him a buzz. His fingers spasmed, and he fell to the floor, convulsed, and lay still. The link between them was full of euphoria.

“You’ve changed.” Marie came into the kitchen and picked up the mummified appendage. She stroked the back of the left hand, and Darria sensed more of him quaking.

“He’ll be fine,” she responded.

Marie placed Omar on the counter. Her power swept over her, but it didn’t turn her stomach. “Hekate marked you.”

“In more ways than one,” Darria whispered. The cast of characters she acquired all stared at her, waiting for an answer. She flashed them a smile, excused herself, and headed to the bathroom. When she came back out, Darria went to the fridge and pulled out the fixings to make a sandwich. Marie and Gabbie waited for her to talk, but all she could do was eat. Omar’s mummified fingers twitched as he drew back to consciousness. Once she was done, she picked up her familiar and poked him.

“You okay, old man?” Darria rubbed his palm.

“I’m not an old mmmann,” he cooed. He tried to get up, but he wobbled on his fingers and fell back down.

Everyone laughed and then the silence grew heavy as they all waited for Darria to speak. Darria contemplated how she could hear Gabbie. How else have I changed? She needed to know, but responsibilities loomed over her. Learning the history of the undertakers stirred up more questions. Who was behind the werewolf resurrection? Were they the same as the ones coming after her gang? Had they sent Gerry after her? She had to find out.

“You’re all wondering what happened to me.” Omar slowly crept up her shoulder, grabbing a handful of her breast. “Getting enough boob in that palm of yours?”

“I didn’t think you’d notice,” he said innocently. He was never going to change, but at least he provided comic relief.

Marie sat at the table and pushed out a chair with her foot. “Why don’t you tell us what the hell happened? We’ve all been worried about where you went. I knew you weren’t dead because Omar was still skittering around and trying to sneak under the covers with me.”

Darria bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Yeah, that sounds like him.” She told them that instead of going to see Rory, she had ended up at the graveyard and how she had been confronted by Hekate.

“When Hekate decided to pull me apart, she set me in some kind of pocket reality. It wasn’t much time to me, but obviously, time passed here. Did anything happen?” Darria sat in the chair and stifled a yawn. Her entire body was heavy. She could barely keep her eyes open.

“That sounds about right. It’s what happens when Papa Legba and I talk at times, too,” Marie told her.

“Do you talk to Legba much? Gerry had his mark on him. Did you....”

“Already tried to contact him while you were gone, but I couldn’t reach him. He can be an asshole sometimes, but he always answers me in some way, shape, or form. It’s been really quiet. Haven’t you noticed?”

Darria shrugged. “I’ve been too busy. Up until recently, I haven’t really figured out how to talk to a ghost.”

“You can reach out to the undertakers who have passed on and see what they know,” Marie suggested.

“You’d be the better one for it. You know what you’re doing more than me dealing with the dead,” Darria replied. She rested her head on her hand and stifled a yawn.

“True, but they’re tied to you because you’ve been fingered to hunt down all their objects. I think you need to do that soon.”

“It’s the next thing on my list. First, I need to sleep and take a shower. Can you guys hold down the fort until then?” Darria got up but fell back down into the chair.

Gabbie grumbled something she couldn’t understand. Marie went to her side, and Omar was silent. Their silence did not make her feel any better. Her familiar always talked. If not, he tried to entice her into bed. “Okay. What’s going on?”

Marie didn’t meet her eyes. “We’re hoping you’re going to be okay with it.” She got up and went to the basement door. “Hey, Rory, why don’t you come upstairs now that Darria’s returned?”

She heard the footsteps of the teenager coming up the stairs. Rory popped his head through the kitchen door and gave her a little wave with an uneasy smile that came with an anxious laugh. Maybe he’s worried about me turning him into a frog or a wart on the back of a frog. Rory reminded her of a cartoon character, he was so lanky. What she sensed now was the power that resided within him. A bright light surrounded him. Her arm started to burn where the key was. When she looked down, it was peeling out of her skin. The ink appeared to be coming off her arm, and yet, it remained. Darria caught the key in her palm before it hit the floor.

She tried to hold on to it, but the key scorched her hand. Darria dropped it onto the table. She waited for it to change shape, but it remained the skeleton key. The one on the table was a copy. “Um ... what the hell just happened?”

“Rory, why don’t you sit down next to Darria,” Marie instructed.

He wound his hands up into the blue material of his Captain America shirt. He sat in the chair and watched her with nervous eyes. “H-hi, Darria. Ms. Savege. Marie’s been letting me observe while she’s been processing the bodies. I-I hope you don’t mind. I was cleaning up downstairs, and—”

She turned to Marie, and anger flushed her body. “You let him into the cellar.
You let him watch while you were working on corpses. You know what could’ve happened if—”

“Darria, calm down. Poor Omar’s going to have a heart attack if you don’t.” Marie laid a hand on hers.

Her familiar convulsed on the table where he had fallen from her shoulder. Gabbie had her head in her lap and licked her hand. Darria took in a deep breath to quiet her emotions. She patted the gargoyle and concentrated on her mummified appendage, sending calming thoughts to him. Now that she was integrated, her emotions seemed to have a much stronger effect on her abilities than before. She didn’t want to harm him. He stopped twitching and hopped back up on his wrist nub.

“Sorry. I haven’t gotten ahold of this whole necromancer thing yet. I guess, Marie, that’s where you come in. Hekate may have put me together, but I still know nothing about necromancy. Half the shit I can do is from trial and error. The rest you’re going to have to teach me.”

“I can do that. First, Rory. Then you need sleep. You’re not going to be any good to us until then. When you wake up, we can summon the other undertakers and talk to them.”

“Yes, it’s important.” Gabbie poked Darria with her nose.

She glanced at the gargoyle and saw the dumb smile that was spread on her doglike face, but the intelligence behind the sharp rows of jagged teeth. “I’ll figure out how I can understand you later. It’s great and all, but having no sleep the whole time I was gone is like hitting me with a ton of tombstones.”

What role was Rory going to play? She dragged her hands over her face, threw her head back, and laughed. “Oh, the Fates are very cruel.”

“What’s cruel?” Rory asked.

Darria poked at the key on the table. It had cooled and become lighter the longer she held it. “The Fates are cruel.” She slid the key across the table and stopped it within a few inches of his well-chewed fingernails. “You’re my new assistant.”

His lips twitched into a smile as the comprehension of what she had said came over him. “Really? For real?”

“For real. Before you take this key, what are your parents going to say? You’re way younger than I am. I don’t want your parents to think I’m macking on their jailbait son because you’re underage.”

The grin faded. “M-my parents have been dead for a year. I’ve been living on my own since then.”

“I saw your mother the other day when you found me in front of the house.” Darria fought to keep her eyes open.

“They’re worried about me, and I can’t get them to cross over. Mom doesn’t want to leave me all alone. So, I’m really your assistant?”

Darria thought back to when Abner had offered her the job. His words floated back to her, and it brought tears to her eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this tonight.” She scooped up the key and slipped it into her pocket before she got up and held on to the table. The world whirled from sleep deprivation. “Keep on with what you’ve been doing until I wake up. Then we can talk about the apprenticeship and what it means. Sorry. Omar, you gonna come up to bed?”

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask.” Omar did a flying leap, brushing his two bony fingers across the ceiling. He landed on her shoulder, and she felt a little stronger. Rory was going to say something, but Marie shot him a look.

“It’ll be fine. Go rest, Darria.”

She made it upstairs to her bedroom. Omar jumped down and closed the door. Darria sat on the bed, and he kneaded her shoulders. He dug deep into her muscles, and it helped her relax.

“Do you mind if I say something?” Omar inquired.

“Say what you want. I didn’t mean to hurt you before. I’m sorry.”

“The first part was magical. I think I had my first true orgasm since I had a body. The second part was more overload, but I wasn’t talking about that. When you were pulled apart, I could feel it.” He targeted a group of muscles, and it seemed like he had another hand to go with his mummified one.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, enjoying the release of her muscles being untightened. Her head hit something solid when nothing should’ve been there. She opened her eyes and stared into the brown eyes of a man. Darria bolted away from the bed and the man disappeared, but Omar remained on her shoulder. Gabbie galloped up the stairs, sensing her distress.

“Open the door,” Gabbie growled.

Darria opened the door. “I’m okay, just startled. Go ahead and watch over Rory. Thank you for taking care of them while I was gone.”

The gargoyle butted her head against Darria and plodded back down the steps. Omar hopped onto the bed. The image of his body flashed, so she saw him sitting on the bed in a red suit. She jumped back against the door and held on to the knob. His energy flared along with hers because his spirit was stronger than it had been before.

“What the hell?”

“That’s what I wanted to tell you,” he responded. “When you were put back together, I was myself and not just a hand. I wanted to thank you.” He waved his left fingers at her. He got up from the bed and walked toward her. “What do you say; can I get a kiss?”

“Um ... are you always going to be full-bodied?”

He shrugged. The floorboards creaked underneath the weight of his feet. His shoes were shiny patent leather and didn’t flicker out. “I get that from you. Dark Mistress of Evil, you’re willing me into being. My body has been destroyed for thousands of years, lost to time and grave robbers. You’re making it so I’m solid. I think I might even be able to eat. If not, then maybe I’ll be able to taste it through you. I want to express how grateful I am.”

Darria wasn’t sure what to make of him. His right hand was tanned and appeared to be a normal hand, but his mummified hand remained the same. His form glimmered for a second, and the hand floated in midair. His words ran through her head: she allowed him to have substance. It was that way with the ghost in the boneyard before Azrael had stopped her. Darria focused on their link and relaxed her hold on Omar. It was like breathing when she released spirits. His body faded away, and his left hand plopped to the floor.

“I’m not in the mood to have a full-bodied, full-frontal exposed session with you at the moment. I prefer the hand. You can show me your appreciation later. Make sure no one comes in.” Darria lay back on the bed, and the weights of her eyelids finally fell, sending her into the world of dreams.