Page 162 of Dead Vengeance

I don’t want to destroy them. And this is the fourth time Fabian has tried to move on with Simon, which makes this… the best chance I’ll ever have of saving Jem.

As if he sees the change in my expression, Fabian’s feet drop over the edge of the grave, and he slides down next to me. He’s unsteady, cries out in pain, but he makes his way over to Jem’s body, then eases himself down. “You can leave my corpse here if you like.”

“Fabian, no,” is all the soft protest I can summon.

“It’s just a skin, isn’t it?” he says. “You’ve seen the other side. You’re a necromancer. Why should this bother you?”

Why indeed? It’s what he wants. It’s what I need. What Jem needs for another chance at life. But I still argue, “It’s not my place to play dice with the universe.”

He laughs a tired, shaky laugh. “The things we do for love.” His eyes shut, and he leans his head back against the dirt. “Listen, I’m feeling pretty awful right now, so I’d really appreciate if we could get this over with. Simon?”

Simon nods once. “Yes, my love.” He flicks his hand to the left, and just like that, Fabian’s neck cracks, and he drops down dead.

“What the fuck did you do?” I scream, falling to Fabian’s side, taking a hand to the warm and dead cheek.

“Kraa!” yells Edgar.

“Be fast!” Simon shouts. “He’s done this for you. Don’t let this opportunity go!”

He’s right. Like a flash, it finally sinks in. Outweighing all the morals of the choice, a lightning bolt of thankfulness hits me. “Okay. But if you two break up, I’m digging him up and resurrecting him.”

“Whatever,” Simon drawls. “Just get on with it, would you?”

Before it’s too late, I slam a hand down on Fabian’s chest, then another on Jem’s ribcage. The power is instantaneous and almost overwhelming. I have never done this with a human before. The surge of energy almost throws me into the dirt, but I hold on as tight as I can.

It burns. From the flesh of my fingers, through my veins, it burns pure fire. I shut my eyes against it, trying to visualise the flow, trying to imagine Jem reforming beneath me—trying to think of anything but the pain.

A full human body for a full human body. He’s right. This is the best chance we could possibly have. If I can just hold it. Control it.

It tingles like a thousand needles, pushing my veins apart from the inside, pulses of agony flaring up my arm, ravaging my chest.

But when it reaches Jem… I can feel the life ripping into him.

He’s bone beneath my fingers, yet I sense it. There is life here in this old and damp grave, in this mouldering skeleton.

He’s coming back.

I keep my eyes shut and visualise it with everything I have in me. Those flakes of decrepit skin growing thick and plump, crawling back to the bones. Dust that was once organs, wet and throbbing with vitality. Every crack and dent in this ribcage, these arms and legs, mending, paling, turning white and fresh. Above all, that bullet hole, that five years on sits prominent in the front of the skull, healing, the brain growing anew behind it. Strings of sinew and veins, muscles—I feel the drag beneath my palm, real skin growing there.

My left arm begins to shake—the pain that was there ebbing away, leaking into my chest as my hand goes numb.

It’s gone.

All of Fabian’s life energy is gone.

Already.

Now it’s just me and Jem.

I want to ask Edgar to get me something—any one of these small creatures he dropped, to kill it and bring it close. Maybe all of them. But I can’t speak. When I try to open my mouth, no sound comes out. The link between me and Jem is too strong, and he’s taking everything I have.

“Archer!” Simon’s voice. Simon’s voice close, and scared, but it sounds so far away. “You have to stop!”

I can’t. Even if I wanted to, I can’t. I’m locked to him, and he’s draining me.

Yet I also don’t want to. I’m so close to doing this. He’s growing warm. He’s so near to life.

“Edgar, get him something!” This time it’s Fabian. Fabian’s spirit with Simon, right where he belongs.