Page 23 of The Rut in the Road

But I couldn’t help wondering if I’d feel safer if I had more of an ability to defend myself—yes, I’m a death witch. I couldkill with my magic, but, as I’d learned only a few months ago, I didn’t have the strength or skill to kill more than one person within a short frame of time.

This had never seemed to me to be a problem—I’d spent most of the last four years trying to learn how tonotkill or hurt people with my magic—but that had been before I’d been abducted, drained, and thrown in a well.

And I’d only been able to kill one of my assailants. And it hadn’t even been the man I’d wanted to kill.

I didn’t much like thinking about the fact that I wanted to be able to kill more than one person at once. Because I didn’t really want to ever have to use that ability—I hadn’t particularlywantedto use it as a child when I’d killed my uncle, and while I’d wanted to protect myself, if I’d had an option that hadn’t involved killing someone…

Well, I might still have chosen to try to kill Martin Garraway. I’d failed, as he’d deflected the magic, which had taken the life of Mulrooney, one of his followers, instead of his own. I was angry about that. Mulrooney was dead, and while he’d been a fairly horrible person, I hadn’t intended for him to die.

I still wished, sometimes, that Garraway had died.

I don’t know that it would have actually helped me. Garraway had wanted to keep me alive, and if I’d killed him, Mulrooney and his cohorts might have killed me out of panic. Or maybe they would have ran off and left me.

But if I’d been able to use magic for something else—something I could have used to defend myself…

Okay, Archie, I agreed.I’ll give it a try.

Both ghosts stared at me.

You’re serious?Archie asked, his empty eyes as close to gleaming as they possibly could be. A glance over at Sylvia revealed a thoughtful expression on her translucent face.

I nodded.Yes.

I knew Ward didn’t like the idea of necromancy, and I also knew that his magic and mine worked differently—but there were overlaps I shared with Archie that I didn’t share with Mason, whose healing magic was more positive and additive. Mason knewaboutdeath magic, since he was working with both me and his nephew, Jackson, who was also a death witch. But he wasn’t a death witch, and there were limits to what he could teach us.

A lot of them.

Mason was a master of control—of himself, of his magic, and of all the complexities and specifics that went along with being a witch, an orc, a business owner, and a father-uncle to two barely-toddlers and one almost-teenage boy. To say nothing of being Ward’s husband, which I could only imagine required some amount of self-control and careful management.

I like Ward a lot. But I can’t imagine what it must be like to be married to him.

To be fair, I can’t imagine what it would be like to be married to someone like me, either. Not that I expected anyone would ever want to marry me. I certainly wouldn’t.

Archie was rubbing his insubstantial hands together when I returned my attention to him.Well, now, peewee,he said. I really hated being calledpeewee.

Can you please choose some other epithet?I asked him. I knew it was rude, but I was tired and rapidly becoming fed up with the hundreds of ways people infantilized me. I knew nothing was meant by most of them—they were meant affectionately, likepeeweeorkid—but all of it together still bothered me. At least Sylvia’s nickname for me—and now Raj’s—played off my name, not my age or incompetence.

Archie pouted.Nobody likes my nicknames, he complained. I had no idea who else had complained about their nickname, since Ward didn’t seem to mind being calledsonny.

That’s because they’re rude, Sylvia informed him primly.

Archie let out a guffaw.You’re one to talk, missy,he informed her.

She sniffed, as though above trading insults with the other ghost, although I saw Archie’s point. Her nickname for Ward wasNancy, and I had no idea how that wasn’t horrifically offensive, but Ward didn’t seem to mind it at all.Some of us have quicker wits, she replied.

I sighed.Nevermind, I told both of them.I’m not going to do it right now, anyway.I was tired and… I wasn’t sure what else I was, but it wasn’t something I was enjoying.

Hey, sport, nobody’s tryin’ to make you start today, Archie said, his voice placating.You’ve got more than enough on your plate for anybody’s business, anyway.

I wasn’t sure whether that was yet another dig at my incapability or whether it was Archie trying to be understanding. I wasn’t terribly good at reading the living, and I also knew that Archie probably wasn’t very good at being supportive, either. So I quashed down my irritation and simply nodded.

Thank you.I hoped I managed to come off as polite rather than abrupt.

Sure, sport, came the ghost’s response.You just let me know when you want to start.He cackled, back to his usual self.Not like I’m going anywhere.

Unable to sleepand too restless to remain still in bed—although I knew that would ultimately be better for me than the pacing to which I’d ultimately resorted—I padded through the small apartment, moving in and out of the bands of light cast across the walls and floors by the streetlamps outside. Raj had calledto cancel, apologizing for whatever it was the FBI needed him to do instead, which meant I was alone with my thoughts, and they kept jumping back and forth between the case and the fact that I’d told Archie I wanted to learn necromancy.

I hadn’t stopped to actually think about whether or not I actually wanted to learn necromancy when I’d impulsively replied to the ghost’s habitual offer. But since I hadn’t started yet, I was thinking about it now.