Page 3 of Wicked Magik

My brows furrowed. Tomorrow was the anniversary of my mother’s death. The reason why I was doing Elaine’s body now was so I could take the day off tomorrow.

“But sir, tomorrow…”

Mr. Marchant held up his finger and pointed it at me, all the while covering his mouth with his handkerchief. “No buts, Vesper. Do this, and you will be rewarded. I promise you. You have been an asset to the family for years. Your talents have gotten us to where we are today.”

I took a step back and laid a hand on my chest. “Sir? Me?”

“You are unaware of your talents. You make the dead look alive, like their spirit still resides in them. Why do you think we only allow you to take care of the bodies? Why do you think we have such high profile celebrity families that want you to do their families?”

I bit my lip in hesitation. “I’ll do it for you, Mr. Marchant. But consider it repayment for my mother.”

“Vesper…” He sighed. “I thought we were family.”

“We are like family sir. But while I enjoy working for you. I am afraid I will not enjoy working under Leo as much as I do you.”

Not that I was going to tell him that his son was probably a crook. I did not feel that was my responsibility. He would believe his blood over me.

Mr. Marchant's shoulders slumped. “Let’s talk about this after intake. Please. Don’t make any decisions just yet.”

I gave a noncommittal nod. Mr. Marchant had been good to me, but I wouldn’t stand for it if Leo did what he claimed he was going to do.

Chapter 2

Vesper

After speaking with Mr. Marchant, I hurried back to my office. I would get Elaine’s preparation completed so once I received Mr. Blackstone’s body I would be prepared for the intake and work on it right away.

I don’t ask for much and rarely ask for time off. I will have the last half of my day off tomorrow.

As I meticulously applied the final touches to Elaine's appearance, the task proved more challenging because of how the sickness pulled at her skin. I gently brushed back the sparse strands of her hair, and carefully positioned a temporary wig. It was a perfect match to an online photograph of her that wastaken before the illness took its toll. This would suffice for the viewing, allowing those who knew her before the sickness to remember her vibrant self.

As I carefully draped the crisp white sheet over her lifeless form, her attire meticulously arranged for the transfer to the casket, the faint hum of the elevator coming to life echoed down the hallway. George, who had been lounging comfortably in my rolling chair, sprang up with a start. The chair spun away across the room as he dashed out the door and a tin of makeup brushes spilled to the floor.

I groaned.

I pulled off my apron and adjusted my long braid over my shoulder to look more presentable. There were times that the family wanted to oversee the body until it was brought down to the transfer area. It wasn’t standard procedure in most funeral homes, but who holds the money, holds the power.

I adjusted my work dress and smoothed my hair in front of the mirror one last time before stepping out of Elaine’s preparation room. I flicked on the harsh fluorescent lights in the holding area for the new intake, it casted a stark bright glow over the sterile room.

As the elevator doors slid open with a mechanical ding, my suspicions were confirmed. A gurney rolled out. Alex, the mortuary transporter, wore the funeral home's dark uniform and guided the gurney out of the elevator.

Following Alex, two men in sleek, expensive suits walked beside it, their expressions composed and lacked emotion.

Leo stepped out of the elevator last, his presence commanding attention. His dark hair was slicked back with a generous amount of thick gel, each strand meticulously in place, reflecting the soft light of the hallway. His jawline, slightly puffed from indulgence in too many cannolis, added a touch of softness to his otherwise sharp features.

The peppered goatee, a blend of charcoal and silver, framed his mouth. It was his trademark look, a striking resemblance to his father, though beneath the familiar exterior, their values diverged significantly.

Leo buttoned his expensive looking suit and waved his hand for Alex to move along and to show the men to the holding area where Mr. Blackstone’s body would be held. “You will see that he will have the room to himself. This is technically an overflow area, but we strictly have it just for him. He will be in excellent hands, by the state’s famous mortician.” He looked over at me and gave me a supposedly flirty wink.

Gag.

The two men wearing the dark shaded sunglasses, in a basement, stopped their movements to glance me over. I kept my eyes pinned on them, seeing just how identical they appeared in looks by just sunglasses and suits alone.

Leo chuckled nervously. “This is Vesper, who I told you about. She can make the dead seem alive with her work.”

One man hummed and watched as Alex closed the door and gave me the key.

I already had one, but I kept my mouth shut. There was something fishy going on and getting caught in the middle was not something I wanted.