Marked by Death (Necromancer #1) - Kaje Harper Page 0,7
is.” Silas cleared his throat, and a tiny twitch raised one corner of his mouth. “You’re looking at him.”
It took a moment for that to make sense. “You?” He couldn’t make that picture work. “I thought you were his secretary or something. You’re only ten years older than me.”
The glint of humor died out of Silas’s eyes. “Necromancers have a way of making things happen… more expediently.”
“You’re pulling my leg, right?” He knew Silas. This was the guy who’d helped get his ball off the garage roof, the one who’d come running and checked his scraped elbow when he fell off his bike. Silas did ordinary things like taking out the trash, and washing the car for his dad. Sure, he’d turned eighteen and moved away, only coming back that one brief time, but still, this was Silas.
Who stood there, arms crossed, frowning at him.
“Come on. Powerful guy who talks to demons…”
“I don’t chat with them.” Silas’s voice was dry as bone. “I kill the host and banish them.”
“Seriously? You?”
High-pitched laughter sounded from the bathroom doorway. “Oh, I do like this kid. Time someone took you down a peg.”
Darien looked that way, expecting a woman, or maybe the elderly necromancer after all. The only thing to walk into the steamy room was a very large, green-eyed tabby cat. The cat paced towards them and sat, tapping at a little rivulet of water on the tile with one neat paw.
Silas said, “Thanks, Grim. I always can count on you.”
“Grim?” Darien looked back and forth from man to cat. “Is he yours? He’s gorgeous.”
The cat’s pink mouth opened. “Do I thank you for the compliment, or add some more claw marks for suggesting anyone owns me?” Its voice was high but with a hint of vibration.
Its voice? Darien rubbed his eyes vigorously, and stared at Silas. “It talks?”
“He, if you please.” The cat raised a paw and slowly unsheathed a set of very sharp-looking claws. He flexed the paw a couple of times, then set it down and stared into Darien’s eyes. “And of course I do.”
Silas said, “Grim, this is apparently Darien Green, whom I knew when he was much younger. Darien, my familiar, Grimalkin.”
“Oh, uh, hi!” Darien clutched the towel. Those dagger nails didn’t make a handshake appealing, if cats even shook hands. “Grimalkin? That’s—” Common. Clichéd, He closed his mouth without digging his grave any deeper.
“All cat familiars are Grimalkin,” the cat said, as if reading his mind. “True names are powerful. We cats know better than to gift them to strangers. You can call me Grim.” He stood and stalked toward Darien, who held still, although he was suddenly aware of all his bare bits that were not protected by one inadequate towel.
The cat circled him, then rose on its haunches and put out a large paw to tap above Darien’s knee. Despite the lack of extended claws, he was surprised when the touch was soft, exploring a tattooed stone wall revealed beneath the towel. The cat pulled back and shook its paw. “You’re a mess, young Darien.”
“You think I don’t know that?” He turned away to wrap the towel more securely and knot it, so both hands would be free. A mess, and now I’m talking to a cat. Of course, it’s talking back… Everything felt distant and odd. “That’s why I came here.” Despite it all, a huge yawn cracked his jaw.
“You should get some sleep,” Silas said. “This place is still a dump, outside of my own rooms, but I believe I can find you a bed that’s not too dusty.”
A little skittering sound sent a jolt of adrenaline through Darien. He grabbed his head, his heart pounding. No, it’s been quiet in here! Not now!
Silas said, “What’s wrong?”
Grim leaped across the room in three long bounds, pounced, and came up with a mouse in his jaws.
Darien’s legs gave out, and he barely managed to catch the tub rim and ease to the mat without falling. A real mouse. Not in my head.
Grim tossed the mouse in the air, caught it, and ate it. Sitting down, licking his chops, he eyed the two of them. “Nothing like a midnight snack.” The cat narrowed glowing green eyes at Silas. “The boy smells of your magic.”
“I calmed his ghosts,” Silas said.
Ghosts. Darien grabbed at the word. At least someone knew what the hell was going on.
“More than that. Older.” Grimalkin licked his paw thoroughly, then wiped his whiskers. “You should take a look.”
“In the morning…” Necromancer and