Tale of the Necromancer (Memento Mori 3) - Page 69

Maggie couldn’t help it. She said the first thing that came to mind. “Who the fuck are you?”

Gabe laughed, his smile lighting up his eyes in a way that almost felt mournful. “Someone who has seen what love can do and would never think to stand in its way. And that goes for you, as well, Maggie. You have your truce. We will not seek to imprison you or harm you.”

She stared at him blankly. “…Thanks.”

“I fear I have also come to discuss another matter with you, one that you might find far more troubling.” He placed his paper coffee cup down on the table in front of him. “But if we are to go forward on level ground, I dislike the idea of starting such an arrangement with you in the dark.”

“Great. More secrets. I love secrets. What is it? The Vatican is run by a giant evil sea monster? Or I’m an evil sea monster?” She snickered. “I’m not sure you can tell me anything that would surprise me at this point.”

“We shall see. Out with it, then?” His eyes flickered in mischief.

“Yes, please. No more nonsense. Just rip the bandage off.”

“Very well.” Gabe smiled faintly. “Gideon and I have been working together this entire time.”

All three of them at the table exploded in various stages of shock and anger.

For Maggie, it was, “Oh, fuck me!”

For Ally, it was a whine of dismay and a slump of the shoulders.

For Rinnie, it was shooting up from the table so fast that he knocked the metal chair over backward, and it was his turn to yell at the Cardinal in Italian.

Gabe gestured as if to try to calm the priest down and kept trying to interject in his own right. Rinnie was now pacing, storming around in a circle, shouting furiously.

Maybe I should learn Italian. I’ve got the time.

Rinnie’s extreme reaction rather outshined her own. Or maybe he was vicariously expressing her rage for her.

At some point, minutes into listening to the two Italian holy soldiers shout it out, Rinnie picked up his metal chair, slammed it back down on its legs, and then sat in it. Whatever were the last words out of his mouth on his most recent rant were clearly obscenities. Or at least instructing Gabe what he could do to himself.

Meanwhile, the Cardinal only smiled. “Are we done?”

“We’re done.” Rinnie snatched up another pastry from the tray. “And you’re an asshole.”

“You needn’t swear at me in English as well. I understand perfectly how you feel.” Gabe turned his attention back to her. “And you, Maggie?”

Opening her mouth, she paused and shut it again. Was she mad? Sure. She had been shot at, chased, and generally threatened by the Order for months. But was she that mad? Not…really. She wasn’t even that surprised, either. Gideon was a scheming, manipulative piece of shit, especially when she was involved. “I’m going to take this up with the wraith.”

“Lich,” Gabe corrected her with a smile, rightfully not understanding her running joke. “And I am to bear the blame as well.”

“Yeah, but something tells me it wasn’t your idea. I do want you to explain it to me.” Maggie finally reached for the tray, opting for a cheese danish.

“Dr. Gideon Raithe has been an individual of great interest to the Order for centuries. But he is…pernicious. When I took over ten years ago, I thought it best to redirect our efforts from seeking to eliminate him, to perhaps come up with a partnership. An understanding. He is many things, including a savvy businessman. He eagerly agreed. We would cease our attempts to capture or kill him, and he would keep us appraised of his political, international, and metaphysical dealings. He is oddly harmless and gregarious for a lich.” Gabe gestured when he talked. It was kind of adorable.

“And, from time to time, we would do business together. We would purchase information from him, or vice versa. He even helped us eliminate a demonic infestation in Mauritania.” He glanced at Ally. “No offense.”

“None taken,” the demoness murmured.

“You two are friends, then?” Maggie arched an eyebrow.

“No. Hardly. Associates. Which was why I was very shocked when he came to me, in person at the Vatican, and asked for my assistance with a particular project that was of the utmost importance to him.”

“Me.”

“You.”

“You knew I was the phylactery.”

Tags: Kathryn Ann Kingsley Memento Mori Fantasy
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