Hold Me Closer, Necromancer - Lish McBride [32]
“Cautious,” he said, “that’s a good trait, too. Perhaps you aren’t a complete waste of my time after all.” He motioned toward the exhibit with his head and started walking. “All right, Sam, this way. I have something to show you.”
I fell in line behind him but not too close. Something told me that, as much as I didn’t want him angry with me, I didn’t want him interested in me, either. Oh, good, subtlety—one of my strong points. Might as well dig my grave now.
“What do you want me to call you?” I asked. I was pretty sure I had his name right, but you never know. Maybe he liked to go by Monty.
“I prefer Douglas.”
Am I the only one who thinks that psychopathic killer types should have imposing names like Vlad the Impaler, Genghis Khan, or Vigo the Carpathian? As a name, Douglas was a letdown.
Douglas looked straight ahead as he walked, hands in pockets, relaxed and calm, like he was on a Sunday stroll. “You were expecting something more sinister, perhaps?”
“Yeah, I guess I was.” I didn’t think letting him know that he intimidated me was a bad thing.
No barking laughter this time. “Would it make you feel better to know that Douglas means ‘dark river’ or ‘river of blood’?”
“Not really, no.”
We walked in silence for a few minutes, winding our way through small groups of children and animal displays. Douglas finally stopped in front of the panda exhibit, which maintained a decent crowd, even on an overcast day like this. Woodland Park Zoo normally didn’t have pandas, but a zoo in China had loaned them in some sort of exchange program. The pandas had been at the zoo for a week. I had an affinity for pandas. Something about clumsy vegetarians struck a chord with me.
Douglas stayed back from the crowd, sitting on an empty park bench. I joined him, happy that I could still see the pandas from my spot.
“Why are you here, Sam?” He didn’t look at me but kept his eyes on the crowd.
“You invited me, Douglas.” I wasn’t trying to be a smart-ass, but sometimes the truth comes out that way.
“I meant in Seattle, idiot, not the zoo.” He frowned, apparently exasperated already. I think I’d lost whatever points I’d gained in his mind. I tried to keep my eye on the big picture—that this guy was dangerous—but I was also getting tired of all the cloak-and-dagger crap.
“Hey, watch the name calling,” I said. “And what do you mean? I live here.”
“Yes, so you’ve said, but you should have appealed to the Council when you moved into the area.”
“I didn’t move into the area. I told you, I live here. I have always lived here.” I took a deep breath. “And what Council?”
“Your guide should have told you all of this.”
“All of what? What the hell are you talking about?” Anger leaked into my voice. I couldn’t help it.
“Drop the act, Sam. It won’t do you any good.”
My desire to yell nearly overwhelmed me. Deep breath, count to ten. Then, through gritted teeth, “There is no act. I have no guide, and I don’t know what you’re talking about. What don’t you understand about that?”
Douglas turned and really looked at me then. His face remained flat, but I saw a little twitch of surprise around his eyes.
“You really have no idea what I’m talking about.”
“No,” I said, “I don’t.”
“But surely…who taught you to control—” He paused and regrouped. “What did you do, then, when you got your powers?”
“What powers?”
“This denial is bordering on ridiculous.”
I rubbed my temples with the tips of my fingers. “What powers?” I managed not to yell, but barely.
Douglas swore and closed his eyes. “I saw my first spirit when I was a child, Sam. You can’t tell me that you haven’t had some sort of experience. Your aura isn’t that weak. Even if you can’t accomplish a full raising, you must have seen something by now.”
“Full raising?”
“Of the dead, Sam. Necromancy. You’re a necromancer, like me.”
I laughed, saw he wasn’t joking about the necromancy thing, then stopped. “I’m nothing like you,” I said. I guess my keep-my-mouth-shut policy had gone out the window. “Necromancy.” I laughed