Page 99 of Dead Vengeance

Her voicing of it makes my stomach twist. Yes, I’m worried for him. Because whatever the fuck just happened, the Archer that kissed me this morning, that embraced me… he’s still there. In that house. With that thing.

This morning can’t have been fake. That felt so real. And he was trying to keep me away. Trying to fire me. Trying to keep me safe. About to take me straight home.

He protected me.

But then he did that to Fabian. I saw it with my own eyes. His hands wrapped around that stake.

But then Fabian was fine.

Just like Raul was fine…

My phone vibrates again. And again. Someone calling. She looks at me expectantly.

So I take it out of my pocket and check the screen.

Archer.

I walk back into the living room to answer it, not knowing what to say, so I don’t say anything, just hold it to my ear and wait for him to speak.

The first sound is a long sigh. As if he doesn’t know what to say either. Until finally, “Can I come over?”

“No.”

“Can I explain?”

Again, I say nothing, waiting for what he could possibly tell me to make this all make sense.

Then he says about the last thing I would ever have expected him to say.

“Liam, I’m a necromancer.”

My heart stops.

“This is all my fault,” he goes on. “This whole mess, everything you’ve been going through, all of it. It’s my fault. But I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for—”

I cut the call. Switch him off, just like that.

Necromancer.

The word dances, spins in front of me, like a diamond that I can’t touch, locked away in a display case.

Necromancer.

I know what a necromancer is. Everyone knows what a necromancer is. But I still swish open my phone, scroll past all the messages that Archer’s left me already, and tap out, ‘You wake the dead?’

The three little dots are immediate, but they disappear quickly. Then reappear. Then disappear. Then, finally, ‘I wanted to tell you.’

A few seconds later he adds, ‘Can we talk?’

‘No,’ I reply.

The three dots stay there for some time. Then disappear.

And they don’t come back.

Mum had to go to work. I’d already made her late. I could tell she felt bad about leaving, but it’s best for both of us. She needs to be out of the house, seeing people, doing things. And I need the space. Space to flip through this ExorSquad manual, to see if it says a single word about what to do when the owner of the haunted house is the one who’s actually raising spirits.

Of course there’s nothing