Read Online Necromancer's Control (Trix SinClara) by Emma Faragher - Free Book Online

I woke up exhausted and after the sun had already set. For someone with almost non-existent eyesight I seemed to be spending a lot of time awake at night; moving about in the dark when it’s even harder to see. I got up and dragged my behind to the bathroom without walking into anything, which meant that Ali hadn’t rearranged the furniture again. It had taken months to get it all how she liked it and I didn’t mind except unless it was painted very bright colours I couldn’t see where she’d put it until I hit it.
    A skirt and top were hung up on my wardrobe door. Something else Ali had started to insist on doing. She seemed to think my clothes needed to at least coordinate and unless I put my tacs in I was likely to choose differently coloured socks. As near as I could tell the long skirt was black and the top was some sort of pale bluish colour. Next on my agenda was breakfast. Then we needed to get out the door. We’d been very busy lately.
    “Ali, where did you leave my boots?” I shouted up the stairs. She replied from the lounge.
    “Shoe rack, far left. Remember to take the horns out.” The laughter in Ali’s voice made me stick my tongue out at her as she poked her head around the door. I could see well enough to put together the smudge by the lounge door with the sound of steps coming across the room.
    I’d just laced my boots up when Ali came out to the hall. The swish of her coat reminded me that it was December and bloody cold outside. My coat was more like a cloak so it was very much like wearing a blanket with sleeves and a hood. I even added the gloves I usually kept in my pockets. The weather forecast said snow by the end of the week. Snow. Actual, real snow. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that as I checked the various scabbards sewn into the cloak. I’d not been out without at least one blade in several months.
    Ali was wrapped up in coat, gloves and a fluffy winter hat. She wasn’t wearing any weapons. It was a point of contention between us that she didn’t want to learn. It felt like she just didn’t want me to be teaching her but her argument was that I’d always be there to protect her if things went awry and that didn’t sit well with me. It was too much responsibility for one person. Even a necromancer.
    I didn’t lock the door behind us , trusting instead to the spells and my reputation to keep the house safe. It wasn’t much but the former brothel had become my home. I liked the anonymity of living entirely in the back alleys and the way the rooms filled the spaces between legitimate buildings meant that I didn’t have to pay tax on it either.
    We followed the narrow alleyways to the square. Nobody greeted us but we weren’t bothered by anyone either; a testament to both being known as a friend to many of the locals and the revelation that had led many of those camped around the place to some wild speculation about me. The supernatural had been forcibly removed from the closet only a few short weeks ago and people were looking around them with new eyes. Half the people in the square would have already known enough not to have it come as a surprise. The general public just seem to forget that the people on our side of the path have eyes and ears.
    I’d spent so much time out at night that people were starting to suspect I might be vampyre. I supposed the long dark skirts and general air of not being bothered by anything I saw helped with the impression. Although it is much easier to seem indifferent when you see the world through different eyes to everyone else. I could see people because I could read the energy they gave off; it was more inanimate objects I struggled with. But to really ‘see’ people I’d have to bring on my power, which was not only draining but also made just about every other sense worse. Or I’d need my tacs and wouldn’t be able to use my other-sight at all. It was a trade-off I dithered over, back and forth.
    We nodded to Track as we passed but