Shots
There wasn't much I could say to that, especially since Joanne still held the revolver in her slim hands. I hadn't been expecting her tonight, and I certainly hadn't been expecting that she'd start taking potshots around the apartment. Luckily, the whole building was made of concrete so the two bullets she'd fired didn't damage anything essential, and the place was loud enough on any given Friday that it was unlikely anyone had heard the sounds.
A knock at my front door sent that notion skittering, and I motioned for Joanne to hide.
“Who is it?” I called out, hiding behind the relative safety of wall beside the door.
“Police!” A voice bellowed back, and I took a quick look through the peephole. Sure enough, two men in dark blue stood outside, though that didn't necessarily mean they were with local law enforcement. If they were up to something sinister, however, they'd be breaking my door down soon enough, and I'd had quite enough destruction for one evening.
“Yes, officers?” I said as I pulled the door open to reveal two tall young men. “How can I help you?”
“Sorry to disturb you, sir.” The one in front said, nodding politely at me. “We've had a few calls from this area about gunshots earlier tonight. Would you know anything about that?”
“Gunshots!” I affected surprise. “I suppose it's not out of the ordinary for around here, but I haven't heard a thing.”
“Mmm-hmm.” The officer looked over his shoulder at his partner. “The thing is, sir, that several of the callers said the shots were coming from this area of the building. Perhaps we could come in and take a quick look around?”
From the tone and bearing of the two lawmen, it was clear they weren't on the crooked side of the force, which meant they wouldn't barge their way in uninvited. It also meant if I was suspicious enough they'd go and get a warrant, and I really didn't want anyone snooping around in my personal business.
“Look, I -” I cut off as I heard Joanne speak from behind me.
“Sweetie,” she said, “are you almost done?” Honey dripped from her tone. “I'm getting lonely in that big bedroom.”
Turning, I did my best to keep my mouth closed and my eyes where they should be, but it was tough. She'd disheveled her long hair just enough to make it seem that it had recently been a part of a passionate tryst, and the blue shirt she was wearing had fully half its buttons undone, revealing a generous swath of pale boson. Her pants were also gone, and the tail end of her shirt only partially covered sheer underwear.
“I...” No sensible words came to mind.
“Sir!” The officer at the door said, and I turned, a stupid grin on my face. “Sorry to disturb you. Have a good night.”
I mumbled something as they left, then closed and locked the door, trying my best to keep my eyes somewhere safe, somewhere appropriate.
“We have to sort this out, Bobby,” Joanne said seriously, all signs of false arousal disappearing.
“I agree. But first, you need to go get dressed. We're not going to get anywhere with you looking like that.”
She laughed, then fixed me with a sultry glare. “It got rid of them, didn't it? And it seemed to have quite the effect on you, too.”
“Joanne!” I cried. “Clothes, now!”
Still chuckling, she made her way to the bedroom.
I needed time to sort out what had happened, time to understand, but that was the one thing I wasn't going to get. I hadn't ever expected to see Joanne again, and when she'd shown up at my door, I'd been too dumbfounded to block her entry. It hadn't taken long for the gun to come out and suddenly she was wrecking the place, trying her best to put a bullet in my brain.
Sure, she was sorry now, but how long would it be before the madness took her again?
This was the trouble with necromancy – or at least part of it. Raising a body meant trying to find and cram the right soul back into its old container, and it didn't always want to go. In Joanne's case, I'd gotten ninety percent of who she'd used to be back where it belonged, but a portion of the nether had managed to slip inside by the time her family came looking for my help. The end result was a sweet, caring woman who periodically went off into bouts of madness and self-destruction, even as her more sensible, second-life self looked on.
From what I could gather, she'd manged to find out that I was the one who brought her back, and was now looking for a fix – one that I would either provide free of charge or suffer for with a bullet to the face. Trouble was, there was really nothing that could be done, gun or no, and Joanne was going to have to deal with it.
“You had training somewhere, right?” She said as she came back into the living room. “You didn't just figure all this out by yourself?”
I nodded. My master was in northern England, a man as old as the rocks and unpredictable as the sea. I'd left before I learned all he had to teach because I feared for my safety.
“Alright.” She said crisply. “Here's what we're going to do. We're taking a trip together, you and I, and we're going to improve your skills.”
“I don't -” I started, but she cut me off.
“This isn't up for debate. If you refuse, I'll track down those cops and tell them a very different story, one convincing enough to have them start poking around in here.” She gestured to one of my alters in the corner. “And I'm guessing you really don't want that to happen.”
I sighed. “Fine. When do we leave?”
- D
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