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Chapter Eight

Sylvan

“I… kind of feel like you shouldn’t do that,” I say to Hades as I kneel down to face the miniature horse who is currently ripping out the plants my gardener planted. She doesn’t really seem to like him, but he’s cute enough that she always forgives him. I’m still a little worried that one day he might go a bit too far.

He tosses his head in sass as I pull him over to me and rub behind his ears. He leans into it and his upper lip wiggles around, pleased by the attention. It seems to be an adequate deal for leaving the flowers alone.

Hank catches up to me and flips open his notebook as he looks at me expectantly.

“Alright, so here’s my plan,” I tell the horse who really doesn’t care about the plan, he just cares about how hard I scratch the side of his neck. “Axton told me last night that he wants to learn how to paint! So I thought for his birthday, I would bring him a painter to teach him. I think there’s one buried around here somewhere. Really, there shouldn’t be so many dead people buried here. I kind of feel like it’s a little illegal, but since I didn’t bury them and am just… bringing them back to life, it should be fine, right?”

“Seeing as you know about the bodies buried in your yard and have not alerted authorities, it is likely extremely illegal,” Hank observes as he trails after me.

“Hank, I was clearly talking to the horse,” I say.

“Yes, because the horse can’t tell you how illegal it is.”

“I think they’re right here,” I say as I ignore all of that.

Hank examines his A Dead Person is Buried Here chart. He oddly didn’t find it hilarious when I named it for him. “No, that’s the sculptor serial killer. Remember, you thought he was making a mold of your body and instead he tried using your body as a mold.”

“Ooh yeah, that guy can stay dead. Hmm… I’ve never summoned this painter before, so I don’t quite know where he is. Let’s see… let’s see… What about this spot?”

“That is the man who killed your grandfather. Every time you bring him to life he begs you to bring your grandfather back to life so he can kill him again,” Hank says.

“Shit. Wait… if he killed my grandfather, who buried him here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he asked to be buried here with the hope of someone bringing him back to remurder your grandfather.”

“Okay, okay… here are two bodies. Do we have anything on either of them?”

“We do not.”

“Well, what’s the worst that can happen?” I ask as I set my hand down and reanimate the first body. The man stands up and stretches before looking around curiously and settling on me.

“Hi! I’m Sylvan! It’s really a pleasure to meet you. I’m a necromancer who brought you back, but if you don’t want to have been brought back, I totally understand. Just say the word and I’ll slide you back in the earth!”

He stares at me for a long moment then looks himself over. “A pleasure to meet you,” he says as he flashes me a smile.

“Are you a painter? I’m trying to find a painter to help teach my fiancé the art of oil paints.”

He raises an eyebrow, likely surprised that this is what he’s been brought back for. “Actually, I am! I did many of the murals found in that castle over there. I would absolutely love to teach her how to paint!”

“Him.”

“Even better!” he says. “Lead the way!”

“Thank you!” I hurry back up to the castle as he follows me, looking every which way. “What’s your name?

“Clarkston, and yours, kind sir?”

“Sylvan. I’m really happy you’re willing to help! This is Hank, he’s my right-hand man! And this little cutie is Hades. He’s… a bit selective on who he likes,” I say as the horse squeals and stomps his hoof at a beautiful butterfly. He tries his hardest to stomp it to the ground but it flutters away before he can, which pisses him off. Then, since the butterfly eluded him, he turns on his haunches and squeals at Clarkston.

Clarkston looks a bit concerned that he might get kicked and slides around to the other side of me. “I… see. Rather feisty… and small.”

“He is, isn’t he?” I ask as I ruffle the horse’s fluffy forelock. This seems to appease him a little bit, so he decides he won’t kick anything and settles for pawing.

I escort Clarkston into the house and over to where Axton is sitting at the dining room table watching a YouTube tutorial on how to get started learning to paint with oil paint. He’s holding a brush as his head tilts a bit to the side, like whatever they’re doing on that screen is far beyond what he’s capable of doing. “You don’t need that nonsense,” I assure him. “I went out and got you a painter out of the backyard!”

Axton looks up at me. “I’m going to pretend like all of that sounds super normal and not weird at all and just smile and say thank you.”

“You’re welcome! He painted this family portrait of my grandfather and father,” I say as I hurry him over to the formal dining room which we never use and wave my arms at the huge family portrait of my grandfather and one of his many wives… or maybe she was just a random fling at the time since I don’t actually know anything about her. “You did such phenomenal work, Clarkston!”

“Oh… damn… wow,” Axton says in surprise. “You did this?”

The man nods as he stares at the portrait. “I sure did. And thank you. I would be thrilled to teach you my art, just as my father taught me. If you think I was good, he was godly with his skills.” He smiles warmly. “Now where might the canvas be?”

“Right this way,” Axton replies as he ushers us off to the room he has set up. He quickly knocks down his first try that looks like a two-year-old was learning to draw a cat. But he has a phenomenal eye for photography, so I have faith he can accomplish whatever he sets his mind to. Or… possibly not, once I get a better look at that cat.

“I will leave you three be!” Hank says as he heads off.

“I’ve always wanted to learn how to use these painting knives,” Axton says as he waves one around.

“Ooh, yes, yes, it does take some work but with practice, I’m positive you will master it,” Clarkston assures him. “Yes, yes…” He picks the tool up and examines it closely.

I beam at them. “I’m going to get us something to drink. I’ll be right back!”

I hurry downstairs and into the kitchen. Clearly, Johnny was stalking me like a creeper because he already has the drinks all made up by the time I get down there. This creeped me out the first few times it happened, but now I just smile and thank him since reminders that I can do things don’t seem to matter. At least he has his clothes on this time.

“Thank you.”

“You are quite welcome! Is there anything else I can do for you today? What do you think about becoming vigilantes? With all of this hero work we’ve been doing, I have a hunger to do more. Like we could sneak around in the dark, fuck people up without the police watching. I already have outfits in mind.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Aren’t you always naked? So what kind of costume do you need?”

“Velcro pants,” he declares. “Easy on and off. Magnetic would work as well.”

I decide that there are likely other things that are more important and just smile and tell him I’ll think about it because I don’t want to dash his hopes and dreams. As I’m heading past the dining room, I notice something odd.

“Did you take the knife that was here?” I ask.

“I did not. I rarely need a knife. I can usually just like… crush the skull.” Johnny is miming this just as Hank busts into the room.

“Axton… Axton, I might have fucked up. The map was wrong. It got flipped. The man you brought back is the one who killed off your grandfather’s seventeenth wife and set the entire town on fire.”

“Excuse me? How the fuck did you get the map wrong?” I ask as I rush up the stairs.

“You wrote the name on the south side of the map! Everyone knows you write the name on the north!”

“I just thought I was being funny! I didn’t know it mattered!” I cry.

Johnny barks out a “Ra!” as he rips his shirt and pants right off his body before barreling up after me.

“My love, I’m coming! Axton! I’m coming!” I shout. I literally brought a horrible man into my home and left him alone with Axton—what if he hurts Axton?

I dash into the room as Clarkston holds the painting knife up before slapping paint onto the canvas. “See how you do the strokes like this? It might look a bit sloppy at first and…”

They both look over at me as I stand in the doorway with my mini army at the ready. Johnny is quite naked and prepared to show me that skull-crushing technique he was demonstrating earlier.

“Wait… you really are a painter?” I ask.

“Yes?” Clarkston responds, looking confused.

“But… I thought…” I wave to the map. “We thought that… maybe you… were going to try to… stab Axton.”

“Oh. Is this because I stabbed that lady to death? No, no. She was a horrible person. Totally deserved it. Those days are behind me,” he assures me. “I’m a changed man. I only stabbed your grandfather three times, but it was on three different occasions and he very much deserved it each time.”

“I… see. Axton, a quick word?”

“Of course,” Axton says as he steps out into the hall with me.

“I think it might be best to gently shoo him back to his grave and have you return to watching YouTube tutorials, you know? I bet they’re just as good.”

Axton doesn’t seem convinced by this. “He’s a really good teacher.”

I stare at him in disbelief. “Yeah, but he might also stab you! Like what’s better, a shitty YouTube tutorial where you don’t end up bleeding at the end or being stabbed?”

The look on Axton’s face tells me that he has to think about it. “I have a protective barrier up. It’ll be fine. Just adds a bit of spice to it. Although… if I get blood on the painting, that would be disappointing, but I’m sure it’s fine.”

I raise an eyebrow, uncertain that spice is what is needed. “Only if you’re sure.”

“I’m positive,” he says with a smile. “Everything is fine.”

I hear a loud ruckus and quickly open the door to find Clarkston holding Johnny in a chokehold while Hank is trying to peel Clarkston’s arm back since he has the missing short sword in it.

“Everything is not fine,” Axton announces.

“This vile man dare criticize my work!” Clarkston says. “I will have your head! I will slice the skin off that mocking face!”

“Dammit! I simply said that you got a bit of blue paint on the yellow!” Johnny retorts. “Why are you so damn pissy?”

“Your dick dangling before me has irritated me as well! Why is it so large? Pisses me off! Might as well chop that off too!”

“I fight better naked!” Johnny declares.

“Fine, fine, makes it easier to see where I’m going to stab you,” Clarkston snarls.

I hurry up and dismiss Clarkston, which causes Johnny and Hank to fall forward since the person they were trying to disarm has disappeared.

“So… like… how’s your day going?” I ask Axton.

“Going very well. My fiancé brought a murderer into our home and invited him to teach me his ways.”

“Oh wow… your fiancé seems so considerate. Like how sweet of him to have practically tried to make your dreams come true of becoming a famous painter,” I respond approvingly.

“Right? Like… blade and all,” he says as Hank discreetly scoots the short sword out of view. “Oh never mind, there wasn’t a blade. Must have been my imagination.”

“You do have a wild imagination. I think that’s why you’ll make a fantastic painter!”

“I can’t wait to see who you summon to make my cake.”

“Ha… haha…” I lean back. “Hank, who made the cake?”

“Dolly.”

“The cake will be edible,” I assure him.

“Just how I like my cakes,” he teases.

“So… maybe I made a bad decision. But I thought it’d be really fun. I mean… the portrait is so well done; imagine someone like that teaching you how to paint?”

“We could put one of those muzzles on him and put him in handcuffs,” Axton says.

“Ooh! Like murder mittens! Would we just like tape the brush to his mittens? That way he could… oh… you were joking,” I realize.

Axton grins at me. “I will let a man with murder mittens teach me to paint because you picked him out for me.”

“No! I got you other birthday stuff that’s much superior,” I inform him.

“I’m not sure how you can top a death-defying art piece, but I suppose you can try.”

“I can!”

“I know how to paint,” Johnny says. “I was actually quite good at it. Let me show you.”

“Uh… sure!” Axton responds. “At least I know you won’t randomly kill me.”

“Ha! Definitely not, unless you’re mean to Sylvan… so just keep that in mind,” Johnny says as he directs Axton in front of the canvas before coming in behind him. I feel like this would be semi acceptable… if he was wearing clothes.

Instead, while Johnny instructs Axton what to do, Axton is slowly looking over at me as I try to bite back a laugh.

“You gotta get right in there, let me show you,” Johnny says.

“Oh… we’re right in there for sure,” Axton comments. “Like… I can feel how right in there we are. Sylvan, this teacher has a whole other weapon. A bit more like a club. Is it weird that I’m more wary right now than before?”

I can’t hold back my laughter. “Johnny, maybe some clothes and then you can show him what skills you have.”

Hank is already on it, handing Johnny enough clothes that he could brave a snowstorm… if he could feel cold, that is.

Axton tilts his head as he stares at the finished canvas. “It… it actually looks quite good. Like once I was able to forget about his dingdong hanging behind me, Johnny was actually a pretty decent teacher.”

“It does look really good!” I say. “I’m so proud of you! You’re so talented!”

He beams. “I feel like I could have painted a blob, and you’d have been proud.”

“Not as proud as I am of this,” I assure him.

Axton hooks an arm around me and pulls me in for a kiss. “And thank you for all of my wonderful presents. Honestly, it’s the most memorable birthday I’ve ever had. Started off with a serial killer and ended with a kiss,” he says as he kisses my cheek since I missed the cue and wasn’t looking at him.

I quickly turn to him, positive I deserve another kiss. “My lips are jealous of my cheek.”

“Oh no! Let me fix that,” he says as he kisses my lips. “Is that better?”

“Now my other cheek is jealous.”

“We can’t have that!” Axton starts kissing me all over, making me laugh as he does.

I really, really love this man. He’s so delightful and even thinks it’s perfectly fine when I summon a serial killer. I mean… how can it get any better than that?