2.

There were multiple crematoriums, temples and burial rites establishments in the city of Inferno. With so many creatures and cultures all living together, there was a need to have people who could accommodate all of their last wishes.

Andres ran the kind of crematorium you could bring anything to and get it burned for a price. It was a service that Vanth had used more than once to get rid of evidence. Andres prided himself on his discretion, which is why he must have been really freaking the fuck out to call Vanth about a body drop-off at all.

Vanth made sure his breathing passenger was still alive before he left his ghouls to watch over him and headed in to see Andres. He checked the streets around the crematorium and he made sure all of his psychic wards were locked down. Where the dead were handled, ghosts loved to linger and he really wasn't in the mood for any more that night.

Or morning . Dawn wasn't too far away, and there was no point trying to sleep at this point.

Satisfied that no one was watching the crematorium, Vanth knocked on the back door. An eyehole slid open, and Andres opened the door for him. Andres was short, lithe, and looked more like a gamer than a cremator. It was deceptive as hell because he was a fae creature that was older than dirt.

It was frowned upon to call them 'lesser fae' anymore, though most of the older ones still used it because they were determined to keep what exactly they were a secret. Lesser Fae was a blanket term that could cover everything from pixies to selkies to goblins and trolls.

The high-born fae were more like Vanth, looking mostly human with big builds, pointed ears, and bad attitudes. It didn't really matter when most fae could use glamors to look however the fuck they wanted. Andres currently looked about twenty and had purple hair to match his violet eyes.

"Thank the Dagda, you're here," Andres said. His Irish lilt only appeared when he was stressed out, which made Vanth's hackles rise.

"You been shopping at the kids section of Hot Topic again?" Vanth teased, tugging on a purple lock.

Andres knocked his hand away and flipped him off. "This from the male whose whole look could be described as Jack Sparrow does necromancy."

Vanth laughed. "I draw the line at dreadlocks."

"Only because you high fae are so proud of your pretty hair." Andres crossed his arms. "I didn't call you here to trade barbs with you, Vanth."

"Then show me what has got your Hello Kitty panties in such a bunch," Vanth said, still trying to lighten the mood. Not a lot worried Andres, but he was so spooked Vanth could smell the tang of fear radiating off him.

"Laugh it up, necromancer. You know I wouldn't have called you over nothing," Andres huffed irritably.

"I know, I'm just messing with you. Show me and I'll try and figure out what it is," Vanth replied, patting him on the shoulder.

Andres waved him through a pair of metal and glass doors and into the cool chill of the morgue.

"This pair got dumped here a few hours ago by a human woman. Tall, brown hair and dead eyes. She paid me double my rate and said it needed to be done as soon as the fire was hot," Andres said and opened a square freezer door. The magic hit Vanth before Andres even pulled the body out. It was dark power, the kind which only came from sacrificial magic.

"What the fuck is that?" he growled. It felt…familiar.

"Think I'm overreacting now?" Andres asked. He wasn't being a smart ass. He was freaking out. Vanth put on the gloves that Andres offered him and unzipped the body bag.

Inside was a high-fae female with curly black hair. She was fit with the kind of muscles that came from constant training. Vanth checked her hands and took notice of the callouses.

"Did she have weapons on her?" he asked.

"No. She was wrapped in plastic and was naked. The same with the other, also female."

It's not your business , Vanth's common sense tried to make itself be heard for the second time that evening. Just let it go . But he couldn't because the kind of magic that was coming off the body was still charged. If it had been used for a spell, and the working hadn't taken it all. Or the people performing didn't realize how much they had left behind. Weird.

"Did the client seem worried about any threat of reanimation?" he asked.

Andres shook his head. "Not that they said. Though they were insistent on it being done ASAP."

Vanth frowned and fought the urge to rub his scarred-up ear. It was from the first animation he had attempted and the ghoul had been violent and raging. Vanth had moved fast enough to keep it from taking off his head, but his ear had been cut up enough to leave a permanent reminder of his fuck up.

"Can you get the magic out? I don't want it released in my furnaces and contaminating them," Andres said, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"I can try, but I can't promise anything. What I don't understand is why they would pump a body with this much power and then toss it away?" Vanth said, leaning closer to the corpse. There was a strange perfume coming from the female. It was like temple incense with a strong hint of belladonna.

Vanth licked a gloved finger and traced a symbol on the female's chest. Death magic clawed up from inside of his chest before releasing. His magic touched the dead female, and grey sigils appeared all over her body. He had no idea what dialect they were.

"Would you look at that?" Vanth whispered, eyes wide.

Andres leaned over a sink and vomited. "W-What the fuck, Tarael?"

"I have no idea," he replied. He took out his phone and began taking photos. "I've never seen anything like this before."

The magic thrummed and called out to him. It felt strangely familiar, but Vanth had no idea what it was. As someone who had spent most of his seventy-seven years of life studying necromancy, to find something new and not of his own creation was better than Christmas. No matter how fucked up it was.

Vanth could hear the song of the magic whispering, whispering, whispering. He tugged off one of his gloves and touched one of the smokey grey sigils. Magic shot up his veins like the purest heroin, and Vanth stumbled back.

"Vanth! Talk to me!" Andres said, catching him before he could hit the floor. Vanth opened and closed his mouth, trying to form words as the magic pounded through him like he had been plugged into a battery or hit by lightning. He breathed through it and tried to focus on making it settle.

Before a big spell he would sometimes draw an amplification sigil and meditate in it, feeding his magic into it and letting it flow back into him. The longer he sat in it, the higher the well of his magic filled. This was like a flood, not a mere top-up. Vanth gestured to Andres to help him to the sink where he threw up his coffee.

"What the fuck did you do to yourself?" Andres demanded, his voice raising higher in panic.

"I accidentally siphoned the power out of the body. Just...just give me a second," Vanth muttered. He rinsed out his mouth and washed his face. The power settled to a hum, and Vanth could finally think straight again. He felt like he could summon an army, and a part of him was terrified by that.

Another part wanted to try just to see if he could pull it off.

Vanth wiped his face with paper towels and tried to ignore the shaking in his hands. "Fuck, Andres. I don't know what you've stumbled on, but I need you to keep these bodies on ice for me."

Andres's purple eyes widened. "What?! I can't have these things in here!"

Vanth ran his hands over his face again, trying to get rid of the ants that were suddenly under his skin. "Look, I'll pay you to keep them for the day, and then I'll come and get them. I have two ghouls in my van that will go fucking ballistic if I put these bodies in there."

"I have a better idea. How about I burn them like I was paid to?" Andres demanded. He looked Vanth over. "Dark Morrigan, you are pulsing with magic right now."

"That obvious, huh? Fuck. Please, Andres, there's somewhere I need to be but I'll come back. Don't burn them. There's something fucking weird happening, and I don't want you getting rid of the evidence until I know what these sigils are."

Andres hissed, his glamor slipping enough to reveal a mouthful of sharp fangs. "I'll give you one day, and then I'm burning them."

"Thank you, you're a good friend," Vanth said. "Even if you dress like an emo teen."

Andres didn't bite. He was too upset. "I don't know why you can't just drop your ghouls off and come back for them."

Vanth shrugged. "I got a hot date."

"That will be the day," Andres snorted. "If you knew how to date, you wouldn't hang around ghosts all the time."

Vanth laughed. "Isn't that the truth? I'll be back, I promise. This is one appointment that I can't afford to miss."

Andres nodded. "I trust you, but I'm serious this time, Tarael. I'll burn them because they are freaking the fucking dark hells out of me right now."

To keep Andres happy, Vanth warded the two freezers the bodies were kept in to make sure the magic in them didn't leak out. It was death magic in its purest form and would reanimate anything it was exposed to for too long.

Vanth knew this for a fact because he finally figured out why the magic felt familiar…it was because it was his.