Micah by Laurell K. Hamilton Page A

to your job, but how many will literally open a vein for you? Not many.
    I gave him a quick kiss. “Let’s go raise Mr. Rose from the dead.”
    He picked up the bag with all the zombie-raising paraphernalia in it. He’d carry it. After all, he was the assistant. He needed to look useful. We finished thewalk to the grave hand in hand. Maybe it wasn’t professional, but I didn’t care anymore. Besides, once I cut his arm open with the machete, no one would complain that he wasn’t assisting me enough. No, they’d think he was more than earning his paycheck. The fact that he didn’t get paid to be my assistant would be our little secret.

CHAPTER
10

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    One of the things in the gym bag that Micah was holding was a machete longer than my forearm. Even with a badge I might have had trouble getting it on the plane, except for the magical artifact law. Magical practitioners who earned their living from their magical talent could not be denied access to their magical tools. They were to be treated the same way as crosses, or Stars Of David. The machete had had to go through checked baggage until the Supreme Court put through the exclusion act. Made it all so much more convenient for me.
    We were introduced to everyone. I gave a special nod to the court reporter, the only other woman there. I spent a lot of time being the only woman everywhere I went. I’d begun to like having other women around. It made me feel less like a freak. The only girl in the all-boys club had begun to get a little lonely of late.
    The lawyers on one side were unhappy with me from the moment they saw me. How relieved they must have been when Rose died quietly of natural causes before he could testify. Now here I was, about to bring him back from the dead so he could testify after all. What’s the world coming to when even the dead can testify in federal court?
    Arthur Salvia was the head lawyer on the side that wasn’t happy to see me. His name sounded vaguely familiar, as if he’d been in the news for something, but I couldn’t place it. “Your honor, I must protest again. Mr. Rose died before he could testify in court. The testimony of a dead man is not admissible.”
    â€œI get to say what is admissible, Mr. Salvia. You’ll get your chance to cross-examine the witness.” Hefrowned and turned to me. “That is correct, Ms. Blake? The zombie will be able to be cross-examined?”
    I nodded, realized he might not have the night vision to see it, and said, “Yes, your honor. The zombie will be able to answer questions and respond to cross-examination.”
    He nodded too, then said, “There, Mr. Salvia. You will get your chance to cross-examine Mr. Rose.”
    â€œMr. Rose is dead, your honor. I renew my objections to this entire proceeding—”
    The judge held up his hand. “Heard and noted, Mr. Salvia, but save the rest of your objections for the appeal.”
    Salvia settled back. He was not happy.
    Micah leaned in very close to my ear and whispered, “He smells like fear.”
    The lawyer for the accused was allowed to be nervous, but fear? That seemed a bit strong. Was he afraid of the graveyard and the whole zombie thing, or was it something else?
    There was a wire mesh cage over to one side with a chicken in it. The bird clucked softly to itself, makingthe sleepy noises chickens make when they’re settling down for the night. The chicken wasn’t afraid. It didn’t know it had been brought to play blood sacrifice. Larry would have needed it. I didn’t. I’d discovered that I could use a little bit of my own blood to represent the sacrifice needed to raise the dead by accident. Or necessity, after Marianne, the woman who was helping me learn to control my metaphysical abilities, had gotten grief from her coven.
    She hadn’t been Wiccan when I first started going to her. She’d just been psychic. Then she got religion,