Love Charms (127 page)

Chapter
Sixteen

Julia escorted me out to a sleek limo in
the driveway. The driver held open the doors, his face impassive as if collared
slaves were an everyday thing.

As the limo smoothly drove away, I turned
to Julia and asked, “Why don’t you rot?” Ever since I’d touched her, the
question had been burning in my brain--once it came online after being shocked,
that is.

She gave me a surprised look. “Excuse
me?”

“I know you’re a zombie. I’ve met others
like you, ones that pass for human. Why don’t you rot?”

Her lips thinned. “That’s not a question
for me to answer.” She pulled out her phone then and made a show of writing a
text, obviously not wanting to talk.

I slumped in my seat, wondering if the
nightmare I was trapped in would ever end.

* * *

The dilapidated brick building Julia
delivered me to was located in the middle of a warehouse district. In the
distance, the Boston skyline gleamed in the sun. The air carried a tinge of
salt with it, signaling the ocean was close by. I wasn’t far from home, a
thought that excited me for all of two seconds until I remembered the collar.
So long as I had that piece of chainmail around my neck, there would be no
escape. Not unless I learned how to overcome the effects of an electric shock
long enough to get help. Something I doubted would happen.

 Julie led me inside the building and we
climbed, silently, up several flights of metal stairs until we reached the top
floor of the building. Julia ushered me into a surprisingly modern office. I
had expected the interior to match the exterior and be full of dirt and debris,
but the inside had been refinished with dark, cherry wood on the floors and
also in panels on the walls. Very posh, CEO in feel.

“Please take a seat.” She pointed to two
leather office chairs across from a glass topped desk. “Kristoff will be with
you in a moment.”

I sat, a sudden nervousness making my
throat dry. From this day forward I was someone’s property, and, based on what
Athena said, a lifetime member of the renegades. Anxiety quivered through my
hands, and I clasped them in my lap. I had to be brave. I had to believe there
was another way, that circumstances could change in my favor. This wasn’t the
end, not by a long shot.

Then why did my life feel like it was
over?

I heard a soft footstep behind me before
a hand touched me on the shoulder. Even so, I jumped, a reaction driven by the
impression of death and pain his touch imparted. I turned to see a tall, slim
man with a sallow face and a hooked nose standing over me, a smile denting his
sunken cheeks. I gasped. It was the man in black, the necromancer that had
killed Jacob’s brother and his family.

He smiled down at me. “So at last we
meet.”

“You’re Kristoff?” He didn’t look like a
necromancer, or even a master criminal for that matter. Although, he did look
like death warmed over which fit with the whole ‘raise the dead’ thing.

“Yes.” He moved past me to sit behind his
desk.

“Where’s Vera? Do you have her?” I asked,
forcing my voice to be firm and steady. Being scared wasn’t going to get me
anywhere. I had to be stronger than fear.

He gave me a sly look. “Your friend?
She’s fine. Safe.”

I absorbed that for a moment, caught
between relief and panic. Relief that I still had a chance to help Vera and
panic that the same guy I’d seen murder three people had Vera and now me. Not a
happy thought.

“Let her go.” I glared at him. I was in
no position to make demands, but I had to try.

Kristoff arched an eyebrow, that looked
extra dark against is pale skin. “Why would I do that? She’s fine where she is.
I’ve even made arrangements for the renegade’s mage to make a collar for her. A
futurist is a valuable asset to my operation.”

I winced at the word asset. I was rapidly
beginning to hate it.“You don’t need a futurist to rob banks.”

“No, but I have other interests where she
will be useful and, if that fails, I’ll sell her to the renegades.”

In short, he was never going to let her
go. She would be trapped just like me. I rubbed my forehead and fought back
tears of despair.

Kristoff watched me, an impassive look on
his face. “Crying won’t help.”

“I know,” I said, miserable. “It never
does.” So much for being brave.

Kristoff gave a nod of approval. “You’re
practical. Good. I can use that.” He pulled open a desk drawer and threw a
black velvet pouch at me.

I caught it by reflex. “What is this?”

“A crystal. You are to meditate with it
every day for at least twenty minutes.”

“What are you a New Age murderer?” I
cringed as the words left my mouth thinking I had gone too far, but Kristoff
only laughed.

“No. Crystals are natural energetic
amplifiers. We use them a lot in our work.”

“Our work?” I opened the bag and pulled
out a long, oblique quartz crystal. Polished and transparent as glass.

“Yes. It’s essential to raising zombies.”

I dropped the crystal back in the bag.
“I’m not going to raise zombies.”

He pressed his palms together and
smirked. “Not yet, but you will.”

I shook my head. “No. I’m a psychic, not
a Sidhe or supernatural. I don’t have the magic to raise the dead.”

“Sofia,” he leaned toward me, his dark
gaze boring into mine, “Why do you think you see ghosts?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Bad luck?”

“It’s because you have power over the
dead. All necromancers start out seeing ghosts.”

My stomach sank. “No.” It couldn’t be
true. I’d never read any such thing in all of my research.

He settled back in his chair with a
slight shake of his head, the corners of his mouth tightening. “Contrary to
what you and most humans believe, psychic abilities aren’t the only human
power. We also hold sway over death. Think about it, we’re the only species of
the three that dies. The Sidhe live so long they are immortal by our standards
and the supernaturals are truly immortal. We’re the only ones who know death
and who can see it. If you know something and can see something, you can
control it.”

“No,” I said again. He was making it up.
Had to be.

“Yes.” He pointed a bony finger at me.
“You, my dear, are destined to be a necromancer like me.”

I shook my head. “No, that’s not true.”

“Not true that you see ghosts?”

Well, I couldn’t deny that.

“Not true that your powers are
expanding?”

I bit my lip. How did he know that?

“Don’t lie to yourself, Sofia. Lies
coddle you, keep you from your full potential.” He leaned forward, his
expression intense. “Your destiny lies with the dead. I will make you a
mistress of death and together we will rule the world.”

My hands clenched into fists, ready to
fight. “I won’t do it.”

“Yes, you will,” he countered.

“You think just because I wear
this..." I pulled at the collar around my neck, “thing that I’ll do
anything you want like a trick pony? Well, you’re in for a surprise, I’d rather
die than raise zombies.”

“It’s not the collar you have to worry
about it, Sofia, it’s me.” Kristoff captured my gaze again, and invaded my
brain with the force of train flattening a penny, dominating my very being with
his energy. Which is to say, it hurt. A lot. “When the time comes, it will be
me who makes you lift the knife.”

My hand rose as he spoke, fingers closed
as if holding a knife.

“And it will be me who guides your hand
when you make your first kill.”

My arm reared back and then plunged down
even though I threw all my strength into stopping it. It didn’t matter, I
wasn’t in control of my body any longer. Kristoff was.

Kristoff laughed at my look of stunned
horror. “This must be quite a shock to you after only using your clairvoyant
capabilities with antiques. You haven't even begun to test the full range of
your limits yet.”

I remained silent. Kristoff’s version of
‘full range’ involved too much blood and gore for my taste.

“There’s so much you don’t know. I can’t
wait to show you, but first you must learn to use the crystal.” He opened
another drawer and took out a small white box. “And here’s an incentive for
you.” He held the box out to me.

I leaned forward and took it from him.

“Go on. Open it.”

I did and shrieked, throwing the box back
at him in shock. There had been a finger inside, small and gray. Probably a
pinkie although I hadn’t gotten a close enough look to be sure. “What the hell
is that?”

“You’re going to have to control your
squeamish tendencies. You’ll be touching worse than this soon.” Kristoff calmly
picked up the finger from where it had landed on the edge of his desk and
placed it back inside the box. “It’s exactly what it looks like. A human
finger.”

“How is that an incentive?”

“Come here.” Kristoff motioned for me to
join him behind the computer.

I moved to stand behind him, peering over
his shoulder as he typed. A series of security camera images popped up, staying
on screen for a few seconds before switching to another shot of the building. I
saw several views of different stairwells and a kitchen before a familiar face
came into view. Vera.

I gasped and put a hand to my mouth. “You
didn’t," I said from behind my hand.

“I did and I’ll do it again.” Kristoff
turned to look at me with cold eyes.

I tensed, wanting to launch myself at him,
to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until I felt bones break. He
must’ve sensed my intent as he held up a hand. “I wouldn’t do that. You’ll be
shocked by the collar and it won’t help your friend.”

I stepped back and made an effort to
relax. I might not like Kristoff, but that didn’t mean he was wrong. There was
no point in fighting a battle I couldn’t win.

“Look, she’s fine.” He pointed to the
screen where Vera lay on her side sleeping on a cot, her good hand curled
almost defensively around the other, which sported a bulky white bandage. “I
have a doctor on staff. We stopped the bleeding instantly and even administered
a local anesthetic so she wouldn’t feel any pain.”

“She’s still missing a finger,” I
snapped.

“She will lose another if you don’t learn
to harness the crystal’s energy, “ he snapped back. “The state of your friend’s
hands rests in yours. I would suggest you cooperate.”

I put my hands on my hips and glared at
him. “What? You can’t force me? I thought you were all powerful.”

“I could, make no mistake about that,” he
paused and I briefly felt the weight of his power pressing against my aura,
threatening to snuff it out like a candle hit by a breeze. After a moment, he
backed off and said, “But I need you to know what you’re doing. Brute force
isn’t a substitute for skill. Consider yourself lucky, Sofia. I’m a master, a
history maker. There’s never been a necromancer like me in the history of
raising the dead.”

“You’re talking about how your zombies
don’t rot,” I said flatly. A raging headache pounded in my temples, I didn’t
have it in me to be anything but blunt.

“Yes, exactly. It’s an innovation of
mine, a twist on the old magic.” His dark eyes bored into mine. “I can bring
back the dead, Sofia. I can make them live again and so will you.”

My mouth opened and then closed. I didn’t
know what to say to that. A chill shivered up my spine as if the cold of the
grave had reached out to touch me. As if it wanted to be sure I knew I was
owned by the dead.

Kristoff pushed himself away from the
desk and stood, smoothing the lapels of his suit. “If you’ll excuse me, I have
a meeting downtown. Julia will be by shortly to go over the house rules and
show you where you’ll be staying while you’re here.”

“Wait, how do I do this crystal thing?”
Was he going to leave me with no idea what to do? That would just cost Vera
more fingers.

“Meditate, find its energy, and you’ll
figure out the rest. It’s not hard. Shouldn’t take more than a day or two to
get it down. Actually, any more time than that and I’ll take another finger
from your friend.”

And then he left, leaving me alone to
wait for Julia, my zombie nanny.

She came just a few minutes later and
took me to a small room with a single bed, lamp, and a small chest of drawers.
“This is where you’ll sleep. Down the hall is the kitchen. There’s food if
you’re hungry. You may go freely between those rooms, but do not go anywhere
else in the building or try to use the phones. You will be punished.” The way
she looked at my collar I knew exactly what my punishment would be.

“What about a bathroom?” I glanced around
the room for a door leading to a bathroom, but, aside from the entrance, there
wasn’t one. What was it with these people and the lack of toilets? Oh right.
Dead people probably didn’t pee, but Athena wasn’t dead, at least as far as I
knew from my reading of her. Nor was Kristoff.