Psychic Appeal- Urban Fantasy

Psychic Appeal Part 16

Julia escorted me out to a sleek limo in the driveway. The driver held open the doors, his face impassive as if collared slaves were an everyday thing.

As the limo smoothly drove away, I turned to Julia and asked, "Why don't you rot?" Ever since I'd touched her, the question had been burning in my brain--once it came online after being shocked, that is.

She gave me a surprised look. "Excuse me?"

"I know you're a zombie. I've met others like you, ones that pass for human. Why don't you rot?"

Her lips thinned. "That's not a question for me to answer." She pulled out her phone then and made a show of writing a text, obviously not wanting to talk.

I slumped in my seat, wondering if the nightmare I was trapped in would ever end.

***

The dilapidated brick building Julia delivered me to was located in the middle of a warehouse district. In the distance, the Boston skyline gleamed in the sun. The air carried a tinge of salt with it, signaling the ocean was close by. I wasn't far from home, a thought that excited me for all of two seconds until I remembered the collar. So long as I had that piece of chainmail around my neck, there would be no escape. Not unless I learned how to overcome the effects of an electric shock long enough to get help. Something I doubted would happen.

Julie led me inside the building and we climbed, silently, up several flights of metal stairs until we reached the top floor of the building. Julia ushered me into a surprisingly modern office. I had expected the interior to match the exterior and be full of dirt and debris, but the inside had been refinished with dark, cherry wood on the floors and also in panels on the walls. Very posh, CEO in feel.

"Please take a seat." She pointed to two leather office chairs across from a glass topped desk. "Kristoff will be with you in a moment."

I sat, a sudden nervousness making my throat dry. From this day forward I was someone's property, and, based on what Athena said, a lifetime member of the renegades. Anxiety quivered through my hands, and I clasped them in my lap. I had to be brave. I had to believe there was another way, that circumstances could change in my favor. This wasn't the end, not by a long shot.

Then why did my life feel like it was over?

I heard a soft footstep behind me before a hand touched me on the shoulder. Even so, I jumped, a reaction driven by the impression of death and pain his touch imparted. I turned to see a tall, slim man with a sallow face and a hooked nose standing over me, a smile denting his sunken cheeks. I gasped. It was the man in black, the necromancer that had killed Jacob's brother and his family.

He smiled down at me. "So at last we meet."

"You're Kristoff?" He didn't look like a necromancer, or even a master criminal for that matter. Although, he did look like death warmed over which fit with the whole 'raise the dead' thing.

"Yes." He moved past me to sit behind his desk.

"Where's Vera? Do you have her?" I asked, forcing my voice to be firm and steady. Being scared wasn't going to get me anywhere. I had to be stronger than fear.

He gave me a sly look. "Your friend? She's fine. Safe."

I absorbed that for a moment, caught between relief and panic. Relief that I still had a chance to help Vera and panic that the same guy I'd seen murder three people had Vera and now me. Not a happy thought.

"Let her go." I glared at him. I was in no position to make demands, but I had to try.

Kristoff arched an eyebrow, that looked extra dark against is pale skin. "Why would I do that? She's fine where she is. I've even made arrangements for the renegade's mage to make a collar for her. A futurist is a valuable asset to my operation."