Hold Me Closer, Necromancer - Lish McBride [107]
He pointed at the stack in my hand. “Those papers state that you, Samhain LaCroix, did kill one Douglas Montgomery in what the Council deems a sanctioned fight to the death. When such an event occurs, the Council appoints an attorney”—he jabbed his finger into his own chest—“me, to represent you and take care of all the details. You survived. Douglas didn’t. Therefore, in accordance with Council law, you inherit his position on the Council, at least temporarily, as well as all his worldly goods and possessions.”
I stared at him, stunned. Did he just say what I thought he said?
“I get all his stuff?” I said slowly. “Including his house?” The house I’d been trapped in for days. A chill went down my spine as I thought about it. I had no desire to set foot in it ever again.
“Yes.” The lawyer handed me a pen. “And a temporary Council seat until you can be voted in properly or until we find a more suitable candidate.”
I took it, but I didn’t sign. I looked at the group around me, none of them giving me any hint as to what to do. “Is this standard?” I asked.
A lot of shrugs and a few blank looks. Ashley was the only one who nodded.
“The Council frowns on dueling, but according to the witnesses, Douglas didn’t give you much choice, so you should be free and clear.” Mankin stared at me patiently, waiting for me to get on with it. He must have gotten paid by the hour.
“So it’s all legit?”
He nodded.
I started skimming the pages. I knew I was supposed to read them, but I really didn’t care at that moment. “Why not just sell the house? Or give it to one of his descendants?”
“Douglas had no descendants,” the lawyer said, “and we can’t just sell the house. The Council has deemed it too…dangerous to hand off to ordinary humans.”
“Great, so I won the creepy death house.”
“Yes,” the lawyer said, either missing the joke or not thinking it was funny. I was betting on the latter. As much as I hated the idea of owning my prison, he had a point. Not that it would be much better in my ignorant hands. Still, I’d rather risk myself than some innocent newlyweds or something. Maybe I could bulldoze the house and burn the rubble. Then I could bury the ashes and start over.
I finished flipping through the pages and began to sign on the highlighted marks. I barely even read parts of it. One chunk did catch my eye.
“It says I have to take care of the funeral arrangements according to the deceased’s wishes.”
The lawyer nodded. “Again, standard. It’s to keep the victor from desecrating the corpse. Dignity is very important to the Council. In this particular case, though, it will be unnecessary.”
“Why?” Sean asked. “Didn’t Douglas have dignity?”
“No corpse,” the lawyer answered.
I froze. No corpse? Not good. No corpse meant he could still be around. Anyone who has ever watched a soap opera or a slasher flick knows that.
“What—” I had to lick my lips and start again. “What do you mean, no corpse?”
For the first time, the lawyer seemed to look at me as a real person. He fidgeted with his tie and then awkwardly patted me on the hand. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. From what I’ve heard, the boost in your power base alone is proof that he is truly dead. The spell he used would only have transferred his powers to you if he died.”
“He’s right,” Ashley chimed in. She gave me a reassuring smile.
“Besides,” the lawyer continued, “from Douglas’s paperwork, it is my understanding that he had a rare pukis.” At our collectively puzzled looks he said, “It’s a creature that originates from the area around the Baltic states—a house spirit, if you will.”
An image of Douglas’s talking cat came to mind. The lawyer kept speaking as I wondered if the pet store carried pukis food. Did they eat Friskies? Was that beneath them? I was quickly getting out of my depth.
“It wouldn’t have been out of character for it to steal the body and hide it away,” the lawyer explained. “Either for burial or…hoarding purposes.”
“This