Spliced

The red vase was laughing at him. He’d found a particular pattern on it that looked just like a smiley face. Now he couldn’t help starring at it.

“Coal?” Grim’s voice drew him from his pondering.

“Is it done?” Coal looked up from where he sat at his oversized table.

Grim drew back from Natasha’s prone body. Dirt, blood, and milk covered his hands. “It’s the best I can do. It’ll give you a few days, maybe a week but you’re going to need a bloody good necro and maybe more than that. This wasn’t an ordinary death and I’m starting to think that’s not an ordinary spirit trap?”

Coal raised his dark eyebrows in question. He stayed seated at the table. He lacked the energy to get up right now. He also didn’t want to see the lifeless body of his recently deceased lover lying on his hardwood floor again. The image was burned into his brain enough. He needed to regain his strength if he wanted to do anything about this.

Grim didn’t directly answer him. “And you should bury her. It’ll slow the decay.”

Coal frowned. He didn’t like the idea of that beautiful face being buried under suffocating dirt. The thought of it made his chest feel tight. But he briefly closed his eyes and focused on the now. “How?” he manged to force out between clenched teeth.

“This particular spell feeds off surrounding nature. You’ll want to put her somewhere private too and away from people and animals you care about. The more plants the better. If you can get a witch’s weep that’d help. They have good symbiosis with preservation of the dead.”

Coal sighed and silently cursed himself for not saving a cutting from the Milton house. He glanced at the red vase again. They had severed the connection with the former host as best they could but when attempting to secure Natasha to it Grim had stopped and after a moment’s hesitation had suggested a different spell. Now Coal was wondering why but despite being a little distracted he hadn’t missed a single word that Grim had said earlier.

“Why isn’t it an ordinary spirit trap?” Coal asked his question directly.

Grim glanced away as if he was embarrassed to answer and from that Coal could glean that perhaps it was simply because it was something he could not figure out. Any time Grim found himself lacking in knowledge or skill, which was not often, he got a look like that on his face. No doubt it reminded him how once again he didn’t quite measure up to his father. Coal was sure Grim could be just as skilled, if only he’d put enough effort in. But telling Grim that would only have made it worse and it wasn’t like it helped with the situation right now. It was also something Grim had been told a thousand times before.

“It’s complicated,” Grim mumbled as he took a seat. “Whoever made it knew what they were doing. I’m not sure you’re going to be able to find someone who can operate that and given Tasha was killed by whoever was in it, you are going to find her death much harder to reverse. This ain’t a job for no police necro.”

“I suppose I’ll have to ask Patrick.” Coal sighed. He really didn’t like Patrick, another aristocrat, one known for being particularly condescending to everyone and anything.

But Grim started shaking his head. “Patrick doesn’t have one.”

Coal narrowed his eyes. On any other day that would have been very useful information.

Grim crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “He just pretends he does. Good infusements. You need an actual necro or”- Grim gestured at the vase and scoffed in a way that suggested this next suggestion was an impossibility-“a sorcerer.”

Coal rubbed his temple. “Christopher?”

Another shake of the head from Grim. “Another fraud.”

“Bridge?”

“Heard his one drowned a few months back at sea.”

“Spen?”

“Nope.”

“Aster?”

Grim chuckled. “Would you ask her if she did?”

Coal narrowed his eyes.

Grim gave him a look of surprise then his expression turned thoughtful. He glanced toward the body. “Oh.”

“You must know someone who has one?” Coal pressed.

Grim looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well I don’t think Aster has one on call but she might know who does. Risky business talking to her though. She’ll want something pricey in return, especially if it’s you asking. And she has a way of twisting contracts.”

“I’ll get Luci to look over anything before I sign it,” Coal replied with an offhanded wave.

Grim rested his chin between his thumb and fist and studied Coal with a frown. “I’d consider what insurances you have on her first.” He sighed. “There was this witch I slept with a few months back in Myst who works as a necro. Not sure she’s quite up to this but those in the trade you know, maybe she’ll know someone.”

Coal doubted it but he gave a nod anyway. Good necros were like good psychics, the very best were either all in someone’s employ or, he glanced in the direction of Natasha’s body, deep underground.