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“I know, I know…” He took a gulp of his coffee. He winced. It was still way too hot. Great. Now he had a hangover, a headache, and burned gums. Fantastic. This day is going to be terrible. I can sense it already.

Burned gums were likely going to be the least of his problems before all was said and done.

* * *

Maggie watched the necromancer warily.“So…you want me to find the parts of this phylactery-fixing talisman-y-thingy?”

Gideon nodded, snickering at her sarcastic description of it. “Yes. I would love for you to help me find my ‘phylactery-fixing talisman-y-thingy.’ But only if you wish to help me. I will not force you to do this against your will. You’ve spent too many years of your life subject to my whim. I…have dragged you around enough. If you decide we are to die, then that is your right.”

“You’re really going to let me pick if you live or die?” She arched an eyebrow. That didn’t sound like the evil megalomaniac the holy soldiers had made him out to be.

“I’ve been on this Earth for fourteen-hundred and ten years.” He paused. “Twelve. Fourteen-hundred and twelve years. Sorry. I lose count sometimes.” He smiled faintly. “I think that is enough for anyone. Don’t misunderstand me—I don’t want to die. I very much wish to keep living.”

“Then why let me pick?”

“Because I have tried to force your hand in the past. I have tried to force it many times. And each time, I…well, you remember how it ends.” When she shuddered, even in the warm Italian sun, that forlorn sadness killed any sense of humor around him. “I fear you’re on the edge of a precipice, princess. I worry that if you are to die one more time, there may not be enough of you left to bring back.”

“When you say…bring back, what do you mean? Am I like Harry?”

“No. You are nothing like him. He is a simple revenant, like the rat in your backpack. In fact, I think Algernon is far superior to that ham-headed lout.”

“Then what am I?”

He shook his head.

She groaned in annoyance. She already hated this game. “Son of a bitch.”

“I was, actually.” He sneered slightly. “What I can remember of her, anyway.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Neither here nor there.”

“Can you throw me a bone, necromancer? You must have a few extra.”

He laughed, surprised at her joke. That brought the spark of life back to his silver eyes. She decided she hated seeing him sad. Not because she particularly cared too much, but because if an immortal lich was sad about something, it was probably pretty damn bad. And it seemed it always involved her.

“You are not like Harry,” he began again, his deep voice soft. “You are truly unique. There is no word for what you are because there are not two of you. When you die, I can bring you back to life.”

“Am I alive, then?”

“If you were to go through the years without suffering fatal harm, you would not age. You would not get sick. You would not die of so-called ‘natural’ causes. I am unsure if you can reproduce. Therefore, I guess it depends on your definition of life. You have never truly crossed over the gateway to death.” He smiled faintly. “There. I ‘threw you a bone.’ Just go easy on the necromancer puns.”

“Nope. No deal.” When he dramatically snapped his fingers as if to say “darn,” she chuckled. She looked off into the city. It really was stunningly beautiful. She wanted to get lost wandering the tiny alleys and roads with their little shops and restaurants. “How come I know where the parts of your talisman are, but you don’t?”

“You stole it from me and broke it into pieces. I know not where you put them.”

“Did you deserve it?”

“Absolutely.”

That got her to laugh again. Damn it. He shouldn’t be so funny. But he had a deadpan delivery that hit her just right. He had said they were both allies and enemies, and oftentimes both. Now at least she knew why he wanted her to help him. He was on the verge of dying, and she held the secret to fixing his soul-holding-whatever. “Is it in a can or something? Like, maybe an old jar of peanut butter?”

He huffed a single laugh. “I said I wouldn’t tell you. But no. It’s not in a used jar of Jif.”

“Ew. You eat Jif? Gross. Smucker’s all the way.” She stuck out her tongue.

With a grin, he ran his hand over his white hair once more, smoothing it back and out of his face. “Of course, princess. As in all matters, you know best.”

“Why do you keep calling me that? Princess?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He motioned toward the window of the restaurant. She could see Ally and Rinaldo sitting on the other side of the glass, staring at them.