Hold Me Closer, Necromancer - Lish McBride [86]
I nodded, getting it. Brid could see Ashley because of me. Interesting. I stuck my thumb at my chest and looked at Brid. “Mayor of Zombieville.” I pointed at Ashley. “Citizen of Zombieville.”
“Ah,” Brid said. “You know, it’s not nice to point.”
“So my mother tells me.” I chewed on my lip. “What about June? She’s a necromancer. Can you get a message to her?” I asked. “Please let her know what’s going on. She doesn’t have to come herself, but I need you to ask her to contact Brid’s family or someone who is willing to help us.”
Brid grabbed my shoulder. “And Sam’s mom.”
I frowned at her. “I don’t want my mom getting hurt.”
“Of course not,” she said impatiently. “What I meant was to have Ashley talk to June and see if she can ask your mom to release her part of the binding from afar.”
I turned my head and blinked at her in surprise.
She gave my shoulder another squeeze. “You have two, Sam. Your mom did one binding ritual on you, then your uncle Nick finished you off with a second one. Some of your power is better than none, right?” Brid nudged my chin up with her finger until all I could see were her hazel eyes. “Worth a shot,” she said.
I pulled my gaze back to Ashley. “Is that possible? Can you ask June to contact my mom and Brid’s pack? Tell June I know she can’t act herself. And tell her thank you.”
“No problem,” Ashley said. “Now we just need to talk about price.”
“I don’t have anything right now,” I said, “and I can’t pay you if I don’t get out of here. Besides, I thought you said it was your job.”
Ashley waved my logic away with one tiny hand. “Guiding lost souls and keeping an eye on little baby necromancer sisters, that’s my job. Running messages? Not my job.”
I chewed my lip. “Well, what did June offer you?”
“All transactions are confidential.”
“What would you like?” Brid asked, head tilted to the side.
“Waffles,” Ashley said promptly.
“What?” Whatever I’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that.
“And not the frozen kind, either. The good kind. With fresh strawberries, whipped cream, and real maple syrup. None of that compote garbage.”
“You want waffles?” I tried to keep the skepticism from my voice. “No firstborn or a pot of gold?”
“I’m not a leprechaun, Sam. And what would I do with a baby?” Her eyebrow shot back up, and she crossed her arms. “I want waffles. Take it or leave it.”
I glanced at Brid, who was staring at Ashley shrewdly.
“Let’s talk numbers,” she said. “Are we talking, like, twenty waffles all at once? Or a waffle a week for six months? What?”
“Every day for two years,” Ashley said.
“That’s outrageous,” Brid sputtered.
“I don’t care what we pay if it gets us out,” I said.
Brid glared at me. Clearly I was weakening her bargaining position. I thought she was forgetting the big picture, but I caved under her glare and held up my hands in surrender.
“Every week,” Brid countered.
Ashley’s eyes narrowed. “Every day, one year.”
“Six months,” Brid said.
Ashley pursed her mouth. Finally, she nodded.
“Done,” I said.
Ashley reached out her hand. I shook it. A grin split her face.
“Great,” she said. She whipped out her BlackBerry and hit a button. A small swirling vortex opened up above her. What looked like a stream of sparrows came out and grabbed onto her clothes. Ashley waved.
“You guys take care, okay?” The birds flew back into the vortex, pulling Ashley with them and plunging us into darkness once again.
“I guess that explains how she got in here,” Brid said.
“Just when I think things can’t get any weirder.” I wrapped an arm around Brid. “Now what?”
“I’m going back to bed.” She slipped away from me. I heard the blanket slide across the metal as she settled in. I wanted to join her, but waiting and doing nothing was driving me crazy.
I gripped the bars, feeling the cold on my hands and letting the symbols crystallize in my head. I knew I wouldn’t be able to break whatever Douglas