Free Good & Dead #1 by Jamie Wahl Page B

thumbing his cell phone.
    Michael wiped his mouth with a shaking hand, and forced himself to stand.
    “She’ll meet you in the dining hall,” Tanish said, opening the door and waiting politely for Michael to navigate around the blood spray. 
    He led Michael around the grand staircase again, and down another hall.  They stopped outside two tall, ornately carved wooden doors.  Michael swallowed hard. 
    “Don’t worry,” Tanish said with a smile, “she likes you.”

8
     
     
     
    The dining hall was the most lavish room Michael had ever seen.  The ceiling was all ironwork and glass, and enormous rose vines grew over the whole top of it.  Sconces all along the black walls shone upward, illuminating vibrant green foliage.  Light danced on the surface of an exceedingly long table, cast by three large crystal chandeliers.  Michael froze in the doorway.
    Bell sat at the very end of the table in front of three sparkling silver place settings.  She was relaxed in her chair, talking on her cell phone.  Michael noticed she had changed clothes.  Her business casual attire had been replaced by a silky white-pink dress with a severe neckline.  A fine gold chain held a single pearl between her breasts.  She looked up at the soft click of the door closing and gestured for him to sit down.
    Michael walked stiffly toward his seat.  I am about to have dinner with a woman who killed a man ten minutes ago.
    “No,” Bell said, smiling at Michael and indicating she’d only be a moment, “It is not possible for me to care any less than I currently do.”
    The chairs were high-backed and uncomfortable.  Michael sat and stared at his plate.  He eyed the myriad of spoons and forks with trepidation. 
    “Joseph.” Bell adjusted herself in her chair. “Make a decision.  It really doesn’t matter.”  She tapped her screen and placed her phone down gently by her plate. 
    “Management,” she said with a labored smile, “it’s a bore.”  She snapped her fingers and the doors off to her right opened.  A stern, middle-aged woman entered, pushing a cart of covered silver dishes.  Delicious aromas wafted toward them.  Michael’s stomach growled audibly.
    “I thought you might be hungry,” Bell smiled.
    Michael had not realized it, but he hadn’t eaten all day.
    “So…we still eat…regular food?” Michael asked, stomach churning.
    “Of course.” Bell smiled.  “You can just leave the cart, Linda.  Thank you.”
    The woman named Linda smiled so briefly it almost didn’t count.  “Enjoy,” she said, and returned through the service door.
    “You have not really stopped being human, Michael,” she said, rising out of her chair and walking around beside the cart.  “So you still need to feed your human body.”  She lifted an ornate cover to reveal a pasta dish, loaded with shrimp and drenched in a rich white sauce, steaming hot and smelling glorious.  “But you are more than that now.  You can do things mortals can’t do.  So you need things mortals don’t need.”
    She breathed in the wonderful smell and served Michael a big helping. 
    “So, I’m alive.  I mean, I’m not dead…right?”
    “Well, technically you died; you have to for the transformation.  And the very fact that you very nearly can’t die brings us into a discussion of semantics.  What is life if there is no death?  Can darkness or light exist without the other?” she nudged him with her elbow and started eating.  “So,” she shrugged, “if black and white are dependent upon each other, we are the gray area.” 
    Michael’s eyes widened.  I didn’t understand one word of that.
    Bell laughed.  “Let’s leave it this way: the old Michael is dead, and the new Michael is here, better than ever.”
    Michael stared down at the numerous forks and frowned.  
    “Use any of them,” Bell said. “Linda likes to set out a full place setting.  I don’t think I’ve ever used this one,” she said, holding up the