Page 63 of Wicked Magik

Death was a learning tool.

Except I was bringing my mistakes back.

Underneath the table was a white sheet, she grabbed it and gently blanketed it over the body.

“What are you doing?” I slung a matching thigh onto the table.

She lifted her lip in disgust. At me!

“Giving the body, I mean vessel, respect. It may not have a spirit in it yet, but it will.” She crossed her arms. “Would the spirit be okay with knowing you slung their boobs around the lab for all to see?”

I paused, taken aback by her audacity. "You dare to lecture me on respect for the vessels? These are merely tools, waiting to be imbued with life once more. Besides, who are you to speak of spirits and their feelings? You know nothing of our world and its intricacies."

Vesper stood her ground, her eyes meeting mine with a steadfast gaze. "I may not know much about your world, but Ido know about respect. Respect for the living and respect for the dead. And if you want my help, you'll need to show a little more of it."

I scoffed, turning away from her to gather more parts. "You are here to assist me, not to dictate how I handle my craft. But if it will make you more cooperative, I will endeavor to be more... considerate."

She watched me closely as I laid out the remaining parts with more care, ensuring that each one was handled with a modicum of respect. "Good," she said, her voice softening slightly. "Now, what exactly are we doing with these parts?"

"We are going to create a vessel and with your help, have their seams… seamless," I explained, stepping back to survey the collection of limbs and organs. "A vessel that will house a spirit, brought back from the Under Shadows. It is a complex process, one that requires precision and skill. With your help, they will look like any other living person."

Vesper nodded, her curiosity piqued. "And why is this so important? Why bring people back, especially if it was their time? You can’t cheat death when fate has decided."

I turned from her and leaned against the metal shelving that housed the body parts. He wasn’t supposed to die, he died by accident. Many people died on my account and I was giving them their second chance if they wanted it.

"You will teach me your art," I said, turning to face her and ignoring her question. "You will show me how to stitch these parts together, how to make them whole again. And in return, I will share with you the secrets of my magik, the power that binds the spirit to the flesh."

She raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "And what makes you think I want to learn your magik?"

I leaned in closer, my voice dropping to a low growl. "Because, Vesper, you are not just here to help me. You have your ownreasons, your own desires. And I intend to find out what they are."

Chapter 21

Vesper

Lord Valium, as I liked to call him, due to his lack of emotion, considered me a fool, someone clueless about this realm and its hidden secrets. But I was more astute than he realized. I had devoured countless fantasy and mystical novels in my youth, and I wasn't going to be outpaced in a world of magik, especially after Oryx had brought me into this house.

Benedict provided us with books so I could assist Oryx in improving his reading, which was progressing much quicker than I had expected. Additionally, he included books specifically for my benefit, with notes tucked inside intended solely for me.

Read this in your own time, while he sleeps.— Benedict.

Benedict would wink at me when he brought a new book, and I'd become absorbed in it for hours after he fell asleep. Oryx thought he was taking too much blood and that my orgasms were too intense, since I struggled to get out of bed in the mornings.

On the contrary, I was learning everything I could about where the hell I was!

I mean, his blood drinking and the orgasms weren’t bad, but I needed to up my game here. I needed to know who I was dealing with.

Veylor was a puzzle and if he was going to be getting closer to Oryx I needed to understand him.

And knowing what he was was the first step.

A lich.

Although I didn't manage to find any books specifically detailing Veylor’s history, Benedict gave me books that described exactly what Veylor was. The pages were filled with scribbles and cryptic markings etched into these books. Like where to find such spells to complete a transformation to becoming a lich. One book detailed the arcane rituals necessary to transform into this creature.

The transformation I read about for becoming a lich was nothing short of horrifying. Their souls were violently torn from their bodies, a torment described as more excruciating than being hacked into tiny pieces while still conscious. In my opinion, it is a cursed fate to become this undead warlock, to wield immense power only after your very essence is wrenched from your body, and then... your heart is claimed as well.

The very essence of a lich's existence is tied to its heart, a vital core that ensures its survival.