Page 4 of Brush with Death (Not Quite Dead #3)

CYRIL COULDN’T SAY he felt ready to go to work the next morning. He already had a headache when he woke up before even opening his eyes, and he could tell it wouldn’t get much better. He’d have to deal with it, though, because he had work to do.

He made sure not to complain and not to show Vale that he was in pain. His boyfriend would demand Cyril stay home if he found out, and while Cyril desperately wanted to do just that, he had responsibilities he couldn’t shirk. Robbie had moved yesterday’s appointment to today, so Cyril would go there and do his job. He was pretty sure it was the only appointment they had today, and he promised himself that as soon as he was done, he would face-plant into his bed and not leave it for the rest of the day.

“Are you sure you’re feeling good enough to go?”

Vale asked as he eyed Cyril.

Cyril had been pushing a piece of egg around his plate, but he quickly speared it and put it into his mouth.

“I’m fine,”

he promised, even though he didn’t feel quite fine. He’d worked through worse. Granted, it had been before Vale, but still. He could do this.

“You’re a little pale, and you’re squinting. Is the light hurting your eyes?”

“It’s not.”

It wasn’t a lie. Cyril’s headache had nothing to do with the light. He’d swallowed a few painkillers when he’d been in the bathroom earlier, and he hoped they’d start working soon.

At least he didn’t have to drive to work. Russell had brought back Cyril’s car yesterday while Cyril had been asleep on the couch, but Robbie had texted Cyril to tell him he’d pick him up today. Cyril had tried arguing, but he was glad Robbie wouldn’t hear of it. Cyril wasn’t feeling up to driving, but if he told Vale, his boyfriend would probably tie him to the couch.

“I’m worried about you,”

Vale said softly.

Cyril reached over the table to squeeze his boyfriend’s hand.

“And I love you for that, but I promise I’m fine. Robbie’s picking me up and bringing me back home as soon as we’re done. I won’t be away for more than an hour and a half, maybe two hours. I’ll have my phone with me the entire time, as will Robbie.”

“With your luck, you’ll end up in a car accident,”

Vale grumbled.

“Maybe, but if I do, you’ll come and get me from the hospital like you did yesterday. Besides, it’s not like I get into this kind of mess every day. I’m fine. I promise.”

Vale was still grumpy by the time they were done eating breakfast, and Robbie texted Cyril that he was waiting for him downstairs. Cyril had to resist the urge to say fuck it and stay home, especially when Vale was being so domestic. He was still cleaning up breakfast, and seeing him in the sunlit kitchen was a dream come true.

A dream that Cyril could come back to as soon as he was done working.

He kissed Vale on the lips, then on the cheek when Vale pulled him closer again.

“I’ll be home soon,”

he promised.

“You better because if you’re not, I’m coming to get you.”

That kind of sounded like a threat, but Cyril wasn’t afraid. He could never be afraid of Vale.

He had to tear himself away from his boyfriend and his comfortable couch, but he managed to trudge downstairs and climb into Robbie’s car. Robbie eyed him as if he could feel that Cyril wasn’t feeling well, but thankfully, he didn’t say anything about it. He just turned the engine back on and drove away.

Cyril was relieved that his appointment was at a funeral home. Things were always easier to deal with when there were other professionals around, even though some of them didn’t like Cyril and what he could do. They both worked with death, though, so they understood each other.

“Maybe I need to start asking more questions when I book your appointments,”

Robbie said as they exited the car and started walking toward the funeral home.

“Like what?”

“Like who’s going to be there and why they want to talk to the deceased. I thought that Mrs. Maxwell just wanted to say goodbye, but clearly, her son had something else in mind. We should know these things so you don’t get in trouble again.”

“You can’t know how people will react, even if they don’t have anything sinister in mind. Grief is hard and complicated.”

“I can’t, but I can do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

“It’s not like I get knocked into nightstands every day.”

“Thankfully, but you still need a keeper.”

“That’s why I have you.”

Robbie still didn’t look happy, but the corners of his lips curled into an almost smile, which Cyril took as a victory.

Their smiles didn’t last long. The tension in the air was thick when they walked into the funeral home. Cyril wasn’t worried. It was always like this when death was involved.

They were taken to the viewing room where the family waited for them. These rooms were supposed to give a serene and peaceful feeling, but Cyril never felt that way when he visited one, no matter how tastefully they were decorated. This one was in shades of cream and brown, with soft lighting. The chairs were arranged in rows. Most of them were empty, and the family of the deceased was hovering by the door as if afraid to sit.

The open casket was at the back of the room, surrounded by flowers, with a large picture of the deceased woman to the right. Cyril allowed Robbie to take the lead and watched him as he went to talk to the woman’s family. Robbie might feel like he needed more details, but Cyril didn’t. He didn’t care what had happened to this woman, who wanted her to be reanimated, or why. As long as nothing illegal was happening, he wished to help every person who needed him. It wasn’t possible, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

“Mr. Farmer and his family just want to say goodbye to Mrs. Farmer,”

Robbie explained once he came back to Cyril’s side.

“It should be an easy job.”

Mr. Maxwell should’ve been an easy job, too, but Cyril had come out of it with a fierce headache and a trip to the hospital. Still, he thought that Robbie was right. Mrs. Farmer appeared to be in her late seventies, so even though people were grieving her loss, they’d known to expect her to pass away. Their goodbyes would probably be peaceful.

Someone had placed a chair next to the casket, and Cyril slipped into it. He took a moment to gather himself. He could relax because he knew that Robbie would stop anyone who tried interrupting him. Once he was ready, he nodded at Robbie and reached for the deceased.

He wrapped his fingers around Mrs. Farmer’s wrist and closed his eyes. He could feel her soul waiting for him to pull her back into her body for a final goodbye, but when he tried doing that, nothing happened. He frowned and tried harder, but it was as if something was blocking the soul.

Cyril couldn’t remember anything like this ever happening to him. He pulled harder, and his headache worsened. It was like someone had driven a spike into his brain, and he whimpered as he let go of Mrs. Farmer’s wrist.

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t reanimate Mrs. Farmer.

“I NEED TO KNOW WHY he’s here and what he’s planning,”

Vale barked into the phone.

“I’ll check if he accepted any jobs recently,”

Rachel told him.

“But you know it’s not easy. I’m not John’s handler.”

“I just need to know that he’s not here for Cyril.”

“I haven’t noticed Cyril being mentioned anywhere, so I don’t think so. Your boyfriend’s safe.”

Vale really hoped Cyril was. Cyril had been through too much recently. He’d been kidnapped and threatened, people had tried to use him against Vale, and his life had been flipped upside down. He’d done nothing that would cause anyone to want to kill him, but Vale was still afraid. He’d be afraid until John Smith was out of town—possibly out of the country.

“I really don’t think he was there for Cyril,”

Russell drawled.

Vale turned to glare at him. Rachel couldn’t see it, but she didn’t need to. She’d worked with Vale and Russell for long enough to know how they behaved with each other.

“I’m not sure that having the two of you in the same room is a good idea,”

she said. Vale could hear a smile in her voice.

“You might have retired, Roux, but I still need Brutus to take jobs and earn me my retirement.”

“So that’s all I am to you?”

Russell asked.

“A retirement fund?”

“Pretty much. Just don’t kill each other, okay? And don’t kill John Smith. He hasn’t done anything to either of you or to Cyril.”

Yet. Vale couldn’t be sure that John Smith wasn’t here to hurt Cyril. As long as the man stayed away from Cyril, he’d be safe, but if he as much as looked in Cyril’s direction, Vale would make sure he knew what he risked.

“Maybe he’s here for you,”

Russell pointed out.

“Why would he be? There’s not a new hit on my head, right?”

“Not as far as I can see,”

Rachel confirmed.

“Anything’s possible, I guess, but from what you described, I don’t think John’s there to hurt you or any of the people you care about. It probably was just a coincidence.”

Vale didn’t believe in coincidences. He certainly didn’t believe in coincidences when professional killers were involved. John had a reason to be in the area and at the hospital when Cyril was brought in. He definitely had a reason to talk to Vale that day and mention Cyril. Vale just had to find out what that reason was.

He would, eventually. In the meantime, he’d make sure that Cyril was safe.

“You know, John seemed like a nice guy when I talked to him,”

Russell said.

Vale glared harder at him.

“He’s not a nice guy.”

“How would you know that? You only talked to him a few times, and one of those times, he tried to kill you.”

“Which is how I know that he’s not a good guy.”

“We kill for a living, too.”

“Yet we’ve never taken a hit on a fellow assassin. The man has no rules. I don’t like that.”

“Maybe he has no rules because no one has ever taught him that he needed rules.”

Russell’s expression lit up.

“We can do that.”

Vale knew he wouldn’t like whatever was going through Russell’s mind. He wished he didn’t have to ask, but he’d rather know so he could be prepared.

“What are you talking about?”

“We could take him under our wing and teach him how to be a good assassin. Hell, that could be your retirement project.”

“My retirement project is to protect Cyril and take care of him.”

And he wasn’t doing a great job at the moment.

“You can’t spend the rest of your life doing that, though.”

“Watch me.”

Russell rolled his eyes.

“Of course keeping Cyril safe is important, but it’s not a full-time job. He’s fine.”

Vale hoped Cyril was. He was out on a job with Robbie, and it had taken everything Vale had to resist the urge to follow him. He might have if Russell hadn’t dropped by unannounced after Vale texted him that John Smith was in the area. Vale had to believe that Cyril was safe, even though he wasn’t with him.

“Come on. We’re the old guard, and we’re supposed to teach the job to the new guys.”

“You can do that if you feel it’s necessary, but I want nothing to do with John again.”

Russell huffed.

“You’re no fun. It could be a joint project.”

“You’re still working, so it wouldn’t be, and you’d end up dumping him in my lap. No, Russell. I don’t want to see John again. As long as he stays away from Cyril, I won’t hurt him, but if he so much as looks in Cyril’s direction, he won’t like what happens to him.”

The same went for everyone who might threaten Cyril’s life. Vale might have retired from his job as a professional assassin, but it didn’t mean that he’d suddenly forgotten how it worked. If anyone dared threaten Cyril, they’d find out what being targeted by someone like Vale would be like.

CYRIL COULDN’T brEATHE. The pain was strong enough that he had to let go of the deceased and clutch his head with both his hands. He could hear people talking, and he wanted to scream at them to keep their mouths shut because the noise made his head even more painful.

His stomach heaved, and he was sure he was going to throw up. He might have if he hadn’t been startled by two hands on his wrists. Robbie pulled Cyril’s hands away from his face, and Cyril tilted his face so they could look at each other.

“What’s going on?”

Robbie asked. He sounded calm, which helped.

“I don’t know,”

Cyril croaked.

“Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“Pain.”

Robbie didn’t look surprised.

“Your head?”

Cyril nodded and immediately regretted it because it made the pain worse. He whimpered and closed his eyes, hoping death would come swiftly.

Okay, so maybe he was being a bit dramatic, but he felt like crap, and right then, he’d rather die than deal with the headache.

Robbie let go of Cyril. Cyril wanted his support back, but he was sure that Robbie had better things to do than to coddle him. He leaned back in his chair, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to ignore everything happening around him.

“I apologize,”

Robbie was saying.

“Unfortunately, Cyril won’t be able to do this today.”

“What are you talking about?”

a woman asked in a shrill tone that dug into Cyril’s brain.

“We’re paying him to reanimate my mother.”

“I understand, ma’am. Cyril is here because he really wanted to do this for you, but he was in an accident yesterday, and he hit his head. As you can see, he’s in a lot of pain. We will reimburse whatever sum you’ve already paid us, of course. I can also give you the number of another necromancer in the area.”

“But we wanted Mr. Leblanc. He’s the best.”

Cyril might have smiled if he weren’t in so much pain. He was the best. He wasn’t the only necromancer in the city, though, and he really wanted to get out of there. He felt sorry for this family, but he didn’t have it in him to do this today. He’d never admit to it, but he should’ve listened to Robbie and Vale.

It wasn’t only the pain, although that was enough for him to want to go home. He was worried. He needed to be sure of what he’d felt earlier.

He opened his eyes. Robbie had his back to him and was quietly talking with a couple in their fifties. Since he was distracted, Cyril wrapped his fingers around the deceased’s wrist as he’d done earlier. He could feel her, which meant that his gift was still there, but when he tried pulling her back into her body, the pain in his head flared, and nothing happened.

Cyril couldn’t reanimate bodies anymore.

All of his life, the most important and interesting thing about him had been that he was a necromancer. If he couldn’t reanimate bodies, who was he?

Those questions didn’t help his headache, and with a groan, he let go again. Forcing himself to do this wouldn’t change anything. He didn’t know if anything would change the fact that he couldn’t use his gift anymore. Did he still have it to its full extent? Or was it gone forever?

This had never happened before. Cyril didn’t know that, and if he focused too hard on a possible future without being a necromancer, he could feel his chest tightening, and this place wasn’t the best to have a panic attack.

He forced himself to breathe. He wasn’t sure it would be enough, but he had to at least try.

A gentle hand on his knee made him look up. Robbie was there, clearly worried.

“Come on. I’m taking you home.”

“The client?”

Cyril asked as he got up. His legs felt wobbly, but Robbie was there to help.

“I explained what happened yesterday and that you have a headache. They understand, and they have the number of another necromancer.”

“They won’t be as good as me,”

Cyril grumbled.

“Which is why I had to convince them to let you go. Come on, before they change their mind and force you to reanimate grandma.”

He didn’t have to say it twice. Cyril wanted to get out of there and go home. He needed his bed and Oscar. He needed Vale and to be told that everything would be okay.

He was glad that Robbie had picked him up this morning. He was in no condition to drive or even pay attention to what was happening outside of the car. That was why he was startled when he felt it stop and opened his eyes to see that he was home.

“I can go upstairs on my own,”

he told Robbie as he attempted to unhook his seatbelt. He couldn’t find the button.

Robbie shook his head and found it for him.

“You’re in no state to be doing anything on your own. I’m not saying I’ll walk you to the bathroom if you have to go because that’s Vale’s job, but I can walk you upstairs. Vale’s home?”

“He should be.”

He’d told Cyril that he would be there when Cyril came back, but he hadn’t expected Cyril to be done so quickly. Cyril hadn’t, either.

They trudged upstairs. Cyril patted his pockets to find his key, but Robbie was proactive. Cyril wasn’t sure when he’d gotten a key to the apartment, but he took one out of his pocket and unlocked the door.

They walked in, but before Cyril could make a beeline for the couch and bury his face into the pillows, Vale was there. He came from the kitchen, a frown on his face that vanished as soon as he saw Cyril. Unfortunately, it quickly got replaced by a new frown that Cyril wanted to smooth out.

“He has a headache,”

Robbie said.

Cyril glared at him.

“I don’t like tattletales.”

“And I don’t like when my friends are in pain.”

“Cyril?”

Vale asked as he came closer. He gently cupped Cyril’s face with both of his hands, and Cyril could only look up at him. It was hard, though.

Vale wasn’t with him because he was a necromancer. If anything, he was with him in spite of what he could do. That meant that Vale wouldn’t leave Cyril just because he couldn’t reanimate dead people anymore, but Cyril was still hesitant to admit it.

“Talk to me,”

Vale said gently.

“This has never happened to me. I tried reanimating the deceased woman, but I couldn’t, no matter how hard I pulled at her soul. That’s when the headache worsened. I tried to get her back through the pain, but I couldn’t.”

Vale smoothed a hand over the back of Cyril’s head.

“I’m not surprised that you still have a headache after what happened yesterday.”

“It’s not just a headache. I couldn’t reanimate her. I tried again when Robbie was distracted, but it didn’t work.”

“Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to sit on the couch for a few moments while I see Robbie out and get more information out of him. Once he’s gone, I’m taking you back to the hospital.”

“I don’t want to go to the hospital,”

Cyril whined. He knew he sounded like a child, but he couldn’t help it. He just wanted to go to sleep and for the pain to stop.

“You’re going anyway. The doctor said that if the headache got worse, you had to go see him.”

He had, but Cyril didn’t think that the doctor had intended for him to start working again so soon after hitting his head. He knew he shouldn’t have, but he hadn’t wanted to disappoint the family. He had anyway, and the result was a massive headache and the fear that he’d lost his ability as a necromancer.

Yesterday had been bad, but today was even worse.

VALE HAD WORRIED THAT something like this would happen. He’d hoped that wouldn’t be the case for Cyril’s sake, but here Cyril was, in pain and clearly confused.

Vale wanted to help him, but he wasn’t a doctor. He didn’t know what was wrong with Cyril. That was why they needed to see someone who would find out. It didn’t matter that Cyril didn’t want to go to the hospital. It was where they were going, no matter how much Cyril complained.

“You’ll let me know how he is?”

Robbie asked as Vale walked him to the door.

“Of course. Thank you for taking care of him.”

“It’s what I’m paid to do.”

“You’re paid to talk to clients and organize Cyril’s days, not to care about him.”

Robbie was Cyril’s friend. He would do this even if Cyril didn’t pay him.

Robbie nodded and allowed Vale to send him home. As soon as they were alone, Vale turned his attention to Cyril.

His boyfriend was still on the couch. His eyes were closed, but Vale knew he was still awake. His body was tense as if he expected more pain.

“Come on, let’s go,”

Vale said as he helped Cyril to his feet.

Thankfully, Cyril didn’t argue. He allowed Vale to bundle him up into his car and drive him to the hospital. Vale’s heart raced the entire time. He didn’t want anything to happen to Cyril. Hopefully, this headache was there because of what had happened yesterday and not something worse.

Vale was used to causing head injuries and not having to worry about them. He was worried about Cyril, though. Being a necromancer was all Cyril had ever known. What if hitting his head had changed him? What if he couldn’t do his job anymore?

It was a question Vale hoped they would never have to answer. He was sure that Cyril would be okay with some rest and time to heal, but he needed to be sure, and so did Cyril.

Vale guessed that was why Cyril didn’t argue with the doctor when the man ordered a long list of tests after Vale explained why they were there. The doctor didn’t seem to care that Cyril was a necromancer. He was focused on finding out what was wrong with him. Vale was grateful, but he’d be anxious until they knew more.

He waited in Cyril’s room. He doubted that John Smith was at the hospital today, but he didn’t want to risk it. He’d wanted to go with Cyril, but it hadn’t been possible.

Vale hated to think that Cyril was alone right now, but it wouldn’t be for long. As soon as the tests were done, Cyril would be back, and Vale would find out what he could do to help him.

Vale felt better when Cyril was returned to him, but they still had to wait. He sat on the bed next to Cyril and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. Cyril buried his face against Vale’s neck, and Vale finally felt him relax.

“I hate this,”

Cyril grumbled.

“So do I. I don’t like to see you in pain.”

“It would’ve been better if I’d stayed home today,”

Cyril said with a sigh.

“You and Robbie were right.”

Vale didn’t take any pleasure in knowing that.

“One of the things I love about you is how much you care about people. You didn’t want to disappoint the family who’d booked an appointment with you. I understand.”

“I didn’t, but I also didn’t want to deal with this massive headache.”

Cyril hesitated.

“And there’s also my ability. What if I never get it back? What if I can never reanimate dead bodies again?”

Vale pressed a kiss to the top of Cyril’s head.

“You can’t start thinking like that. You don’t know what happened or why it didn’t work. It probably isn’t permanent and has to do with your head injury. Once you’re healed, you can get back to work.”

Cyril snorted.

“I guess I’ll have to stay away from nightstands from now on.”

It was good that he could joke about it, but Vale could tell he was still freaking out. He was, too, although not for the same reason. He didn’t care if Cyril ever reanimated a body again. Vale only wanted Cyril to be okay.

Unfortunately for both of them, they had to wait almost two hours for the doctor to come by. Vale hoped it meant there was nothing bad in any of Cyril’s test results. The doctor would have come by sooner if there was, right?

The doctor didn’t say anything about the fact that Vale was in bed with Cyril. He was focused on the tablet in his hand.

“Nothing’s changed since yesterday,”

he explained.

“The scans look good, so I wouldn’t be too worried if I were you.”

“My head hurts,”

Cyril pointed out.

“Which tends to happen when you hit it. It got worse?”

“It did.”

“And what were you doing when that happened?”

Cyril tensed again, then sighed. “Working.”

The doctor cocked his head.

“Didn’t I tell you to rest?”

“I had to go to work. I missed an appointment yesterday, and I didn’t want to disappoint the family.”

Cyril bit his lower lip. As far as Vale was aware, Cyril hadn’t told the doctor what he did for a living, and the doctor hadn’t asked. Many people didn’t take it well when they found out what Cyril did. Sometimes, even the people who hired him were wary of him, which was ridiculous.

“I’m a necromancer,”

Cyril explained.

“I was supposed to reanimate someone yesterday, but I moved the appointment to today because of what happened. When I tried to do it today, I couldn’t.”

Vale could have kissed the doctor because he didn’t react to the news that Cyril was a necromancer beyond taking a note on his tablet.

“Was the pain connected to what you were trying to do?” he asked.

“I think so. Usually, reanimating bodies is easy for me, but it wasn’t this time, so I tried to force it. That’s when the pain got worse.”

“Well, I don’t know how your ability works exactly, but my advice is for you to rest as much as possible and avoid working for at least a few weeks. If anything changes, you can come back, but I really think that rest is all you need.”

That wasn’t going to be easy. Cyril wasn’t one to sit on the couch and watch TV. He always wanted to help people, but right now, he couldn’t. That meant that Vale would have to find a way to distract him. He was afraid that if he didn’t, Cyril would sneak out the window so he could continue working and helping people.

Maybe Vale should look into nailing those windows shut.