If Jean-Claude had not offered me a home when our old master got himself executed, Belle Morte would have had me. He frowned harder. Yeah, we're home. His look said clearly that the sheriff would sort me out, and he'd enjoy a ringside seat.
Was it mind tricks, or had more than just the damage healed? I couldn't tell, and I wasn't sure whether Nathaniel was a better judge than I was. His voice was deeper than his chest was wide. His eyes were sparkling with laughter as if it were all he could do not to let it out. That's alright, nobody likes necromancers.
Join the newsletter to receive news, updates, new products and freebies in your inbox.