'That's kind of out for me, too. I relive my death every month. I couldn't stand the fifty years option, much less five hundred.'
'Ah, the perpetual ghostly reenactment.' Nïx nodded in commiseration. 'Your spirit anchor would probably get burned or torn down before then anyway.'
'Is there anyone else who can do the embodying?'
Nïx quirked a brow. 'No one you'd want to tangle with. There are a handful of sorcerers who can do this, but they'll make outrageous demands—like your firstborn or something equally unfun.'
Mari said, 'Listen, Néomi, you don't have any reason to trust our advice on this, but I can provide a list of referrals who would be happy—'
'No, I trust you. How soon could you do the target practice body?' Néomi asked.
Mari seemed surprised that she was still interested. 'Uh, tonight. But really, this whole thing is probably not something you'd want to consider. I mean, how bad could it be here?'
Pinning Mari's gaze with her own, Néomi said, 'I'm trapped in an interminable hell that I can't even kill myself to escape. I perceive nothing, not until the one night a month when I have a knife plunged into my heart then twisted in my chest.'
'Okey-dokey, then, sounds like we'll be doing the spell!' Mari pulled out papers and forms from her briefcase. 'So, about that payment.'
Néomi waved her hand over her shoulder at the jewelry armoire behind her, and a felt-lined drawer full of jewels opened. Another four practiced waves had the safe open. 'Do your worst.'
With a discerning air, Mari picked out a few diamonds and certificates and placed them in an inner compartment in her bag. Nïx wouldn't even glance at the intense glittering, instead exploring the studio. She continually cast puzzled glances at Néomi.
'Well?' Mari asked, spreading out contracts on the coffee table. 'Are you reading anything on Néomi here?'
'I get nothing on her,' Nïx said.
'Is that good or bad?' Néomi asked.
Nïx narrowed her eyes. 'It's rare.'
Mari offered a pen to Néomi. 'Can I get you to sign here and here? Just an X will do.' Néomi used telekinesis to craft a sloppy X. 'Okay, and here. Nïx, would you witness?'
Nïx scrawled her signature, Nïx the Ever-Knowing, Proto-Valkyrie & Soothsayer Without Equal.
'Do I need to do anything to get ready?' Néomi asked.
'Why the urgency? I usually make clients wait forty-eight hours to mull their decision when the magick is irrevocable.'
'I really like the Lore and want to see more of it. And there's this gathering tonight—'
'Ah, the Liv der Lanking, the Life of Lanking. A raucous party. We call it the Liver Spanking. Nïx here planned it.'
Nïx nodded sunnily. 'It's B.Y.O.S. Bring Your Own Sacrifice.'
'Now, why do my spider senses tell me that Conrad Wroth might be there?' Mari asked.
'What? Will he, indeed?' Néomi said in a breezy tone.
Nïx added, 'Naturally, you'll want him to see you flirt with other males and regret his words.'
Néomi was uncertain what she planned to do if she saw him there. Part of her was dying to know if she could blood him. Part of her wanted to see if he'd held steady after three nights away. And yes, another part of her wanted to show Conrad that she wasn't pathetic, languishing away in her haunted manor.
'You can go with us,' Mari offered. 'My hubby's there with his kinsmen. He loathes girls' night out—throws a mantrum every week. So I suppose I could go relieve his misery.'
'I'd love to go with you!' And if Conrad was there, maybe she should tell him to go to hell. To return the look of disgust and pity he'd given her. 'I want to get dressed up and meet new people. I want to feel!'
'The gathering's going to be extreme,' Mari said. 'And you'll only be a human—with nary a ghostly power. Are you sure you'll be able to handle it?'
'I thrive on excitement.'
'Adrenaline junkie,' Mari said. 'Got it. So this'll be a Cinderella redux. I feel all fairy godmotheresque.' She peered at Néomi. 'You're sure you want to do this?'
Néomi said, 'My ball awaits.'
'While I get ready, take a gander at the Liver Spanking live.' Mari pressed her fingertips to the glass, studiously avoiding any direct eye contact with the mirror until after a scene had appeared. Raucous beings were dancing around a bonfire at least five stories high.
Beautiful chaos. Néomi yearned to be amidst it, even as she wondered if she could indeed handle being thrown into that pandemonium, a mortal among immortals.
'Check out my hubby.' Mari altered the scene and pointed to a very huge and handsome male—who was scowling fiercely at his surroundings and then into his drink. 'Damn, that werewolf melts my butter,' Mari sighed. 'He's so miserable,' she added delightedly.
Néomi frowned. 'That's Bowen MacRieve—your husband?' When Mari nodded, Néomi said, 'He was supposed to come after Conrad in two weeks if he wasn't better. Could you get your husband to not, well, hurt Conrad?'
'I'll talk to him. But I didn't think you would care, seeing as the vampire called you pathetic.'
'I do care, don't I?' Néomi sighed. She supposed she always would.
Because she might possibly have fallen a little bit—really a tiny bit—in love with Conrad.
'Why don't you go with the intent to forget all about him?' Mari asked. 'After all, it's possible he could find his Bride tonight—and she might not be you. There'll be plenty of males there to distract you. Get Nïx to show you Cade and Rydstrom—buddies of mine and some of the hawtest demon brothers you'll ever see.' She took her tiny cell phone from one of her many pants pockets. 'Gotta make a quick call.'
When Mari walked to the other side of the room, Nïx pointed out two horned males who were uncommonly attractive. 'There's Cade, all flawless golden good looks and moral ambivalence. A perfect foil to mighty King Rydstrom with his scars and proud honor.'
'Look at those eyes,' Néomi breathed. Though one brother was lighter haired and one darker, they both had blazing green eyes.
'Oh, yes. They have eyes, too, don't they? Everybody says that's what has females begging to do the hula hoop under them. Either that or their accents—a cross between Aussie and Sith Ifrican. But I think it's the horns.'
Shell-colored and pleasingly turned, their horns started just above their ears, curving back along their heads. Their shape and direction reminded Néomi of the laurel wreath crowns men wore in antiquity, though Rydstrom's horns were as battle-scarred as the rest of him.
'Yes,' Nïx continued, 'those sleek... rock-hard... lickable horns.'
Had Nïx just growled? 'It sounds like you want one of them. Or, uh, both.'
'Oh, no, no. I'm Mike Rowe's beloved.'
'Is this Mike down there?'
'No, Mikey's playing hard to get at present.' Her eyes going vacant, she murmured, 'But it will do you no good... you naughty little scamp.'
Just then Néomi overheard Mari say, 'Hey, Elianna... . Ha-ha, no, I don't need bail! I was wondering about that shell spell for ghosts. Is it corpus carnate or carnate corpus?'
Merde! The witch was having to get instructions?
Mari paused, then said, 'I am too up for this... . Uh-huh, uh-huh... and that's why I won't get entranced, now, isn't it?'
Néomi was about to express concerns when Nïx said, 'I put that vampire in your house. And I still don't know why.' She leaned in, appearing genuinely puzzled. 'Especially since you're going to die.'
Néomi swallowed. 'How do you know Conrad?'
'I know his brothers.' Her voice took on a dreamy tone. 'And I suppose I have an affinity for Conrad. I have squatters in my mind, too.'
