Ooc: Thread rated [M] for some graphic description of violence and somewhat disturbing material.

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Bagnold Funeral Home, London
Around Midnight

Fear had become a tasty aroma.

What had at first been only a job for Adam Turner –neither enjoyable nor detestable, but simply a task that made him a pleasant living- had since become a delightful profession. After two years of killing for money, he’d learnt the different pleasures of taking a life, had taught himself how to smell fear leaking as pheromones from his victims and enjoy the scent. And he had began to enjoy the proverbial moment that came with every murder -that instant when, finally realizing there was no escape, the person would look up with a sad sense of giving up in their eyes and ask the one question they believed they had the right to hear an answer to: why. Adam would laugh then, every time, as if the single word were the most amusing joke that existed, and then his grey eyes would tinge with a playful and dangerous darkness. Because I can, he would answer –and then he’d give the final blow. Sometimes he’d kill with fire, sometimes with ice. In other opportunities, he’d slash his wand and the body would split in two. There were many creative ways to take a life, and The Fox had taken to exploring all of them.

With a plop, his feet hit against linoleum and, as ever, he was surprised that his nose did not tickle with the scent of chemicals; despite the number of years he’d been living in the magical world, there were still certain muggle traditions he expected –and the strong, sickening smells of the chemicals used to keep corpses intact was one of them. It wasn’t here, though, and it never had been –not since the day he’d broken into the crematorium to try and burn the body of a teenager who’d simply made the mistake of being a witness to one of his jobs. Presently, he dropped the black garbage back on the floor, and felt a slight sense of satisfaction at the sound of rattling bones and broken skin. With a sinister smirk on his face, Adam dragged the back of a hand against his jaw to brush away the blood he felt staining his skin.

Tapping his lips against his bottom teeth, he noted that his shirt was also stained in organic material he simply rather not identify. “Damn it,” He muttered, shrugging out of his leather jacket and draping it over an unused chair. Annoyed by the hindrance, he pulled the tee off over his head and tossed it to the ground –noticing how cold it was in the room full of bodies, but not at all disturbed that they were his only company. “DERVLA!” He yelled, loud enough to wake the dead, simply hoping she’d be upstairs and the only one to hear him. “GET YOUR ARSE DOWN HERE, I NEED YOUR HELP!” And a new shirt, but he rather felt she wouldn’t quite have anything to fit his needs –and he drew the line at wearing a dead man’s clothes.

Dervla had just managed to doze off, tucked securely beneath her heavy covers, when she the magical alarms from her basement began to sound in her bedroom. Dervla groaned, picked up her wand from the night stand and silenced the sound. She crawled out of bed and pulled on a heavy robe then stuffed her feet into some slippers. "Lumos!" Dervla lit the end of her wand and started down the spiral staircase. She passed through the second floor, then heard a voice coming up through the stair well. Yelling her name, hollering about needing help. She recognized that voice. It was Fox. Dervla groaned and quickened her pace, keeping a light grip on the banister.

When her head finally popped around the final curve in the staircase, she smirked a little at the shirtless torso standing in her basement. "How about a Hello Dervla, how are you? or Nice to see you Dervla before you start being so demanding?" She arched a brow and cocked her hip in agitation. "You're Getting sloppy," she told him. "My alarms were going insane upstairs. Could have owled ahead, you know. I had just gotten to sleep when you decided to show up." She flicked her wand in the direction of the lamps over the embalming tables, a low light was cast throughout the basement. She moved closer to him, pulling on gloves along the way. If he needed her help, she'd help him.

"Don't throw your bloody clothes on my floor," she snapped at him when her toe bumped the shirt. "That leaves evidence behind. You know better than that. I don't need aurors nosing around my basement and finding the blood of whoever is in that black bag. Dervla levitated the shirt from the floor and into one of the cremation chambers in the adjoining room. She'd fire it up after he left. Another few spells and a sponge was scrubbing the floor where the shirt had been laying, lazily dipping in and out of a bucket of cleaning solution she had brew up herself. "You're a mess. I ought to dip you head first into my cauldron and brew the cleaning potion around you. You certainly made a mess of yourself, Fox."

Dervla approached, nudging the bag on the floor gently with her foot. "So what are we doing with it then?" she asked. "Burning it? Or is it a gift?" Dervla certainly hoped it was the latter. She hadn't had any fresh supplies for her experiments in a while, and she missed tinkering around in her laboratory. But if he just needed to borrow her oven, then he could handle the dirty work himself. It was late and she was tired and Dervla had shown him how to use the cremation chambers early on in their professional relationship. 

It started as a clattering of vocal chords, continued as a soft rumbling at the base of his throat, and ended as a slightly cheerful tune as it pressed past a pair of lips: one of his favorite tees might have been ruined, but Adam Turner so no reason to let that disturb his sense of approval at the fact that the bag at his feet was proof of yet another job well handled. Humming lowly as he waited for the woman to finish making her bloody way downstairs, he felt almost as a child trying to sneak a hand into the cookie jar without being caught, as he slowly moved towards one of the metal slides on which a body lay covered up. His steps were slow so as to muffle the sound, but his hand was already beginning to rise in the air to pull back the white blanket when he heard her –her footsteps first, followed by a distinct breathing pattern, and followed by a freckled face appearing at the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m bring you toys, and you’re still picky,” Adam clucked his tongue against the inside of his cheek disapprovingly, but the soft smirk that spread across his face as he dropped the raised arm and turned his body to stare at her was proof of his amusement. It was a wonder that he’d somehow managed to garner a working relationship with the woman, considering they’d met when he’d been breaking into her house and work place –but, then again, there were many matters that made such actions understandable, and Dervla Bagnold had been understanding enough for the two to end up waging a deal. Even more shockingly, it was the type of decision where both parties were benefited –and Adam personally felt he might even be getting the better treatment. “Sloppy? Moi?” He pressed a faked shook hand to his chest, eyes widening as if he had no idea what so ever she meant, before rolling his eyes. “It was this that became a bit too sloopy,” He indicated the garbage bag with his chin. “Though of burying it –but then thought of you,” He smiled, a lopsided grin that made him appear as if he felt he was the best friend in the world for bringing the woman a body. Which, actually, considering the basic nature of her interests so far as Adam had been able to get his head around, was somewhat true.

She made quick work of getting rid of his shirt and the stain of blood it had been leaving on the floor, as he shrugged and folded his arms over his bare chest. “You keep this place sterile, so I didn’t gather there was anything to worry about,” His eyes were lazy, his lips downturned as he nodded slowly. “It was a new spell –I wasn’t certain whether breaking every bone would create such a mess,” A second pounced by, and then he smirked widely. “It did –so I’ll probably not use that particular curse again.” The sound had actually been rather delightful, but not enough to justify losing his favorite shirt and getting entirely stained in blood. He’d make a note to practice it a bit, though, for perhaps he’d simply said the words with far too much enthusiasm, thus causing the spell to work a tad bit too well.

Dervla came closer, one of her feet nudging at the bad and causing a rattle that made the animagus rather curious. Grey eyes on the woman, the smile on his lips was devilish and mischievous. Adam couldn’t be certain she’d be able to do much with this particular mess, but he had a feeling she might be interested in finding out. “It was supposed to be a gift –but if you rather be ungrateful, I’ll just toss it in the flames,” And he’d stand there and watch the process, for there was something quite alluring about staring into dancing fire doing its job properly. Still, knowing her as he did, he was certain she’d go for the former option. “The only catch is that I want to watch,” He whispered, stepping in and closing the distance between them, staring into her eyes with a certain excitement to his gaze. The particular magic she had taken to teaching him a bit about was nothing cosmic –but he rather had a feeling, though with no confirmation, that there was much more this witch was capable of.

With a shiver, Adam pulled back, stepped around her and moved to stand against one of the embalming tables. The dead didn’t bother him, but he chose an unused slab all the same, as he pulled out his wand and quietly cast a charm that would serve to get his blood running faster and therefore help in keeping him warm –as it appeared there was a chance he would remain shirtless for a bit. “You know, I’m at a disadvantage, here,” His voice was playful, his tongue toying across his teeth. Scratching across his abdomen, he shrugged as he stared at her. “So if you could get on with stuff, it’d be appreciated.” He stopped then, considering her with eyes that churned a heat of their own. “Not that I mind being shirtless around you.” A wink, just for good measure, as it was all fun and games down here.

"Of course I'm picky, if they aren't in a certain state it severely limits what I can do with them." She rolled her es as he mentioned it was the body that got sloppy. "Well, you really should keep your distance if you're going to do something so very messy. Not exactly covert, now is it? I bet there's a huge blood splatter now in some abandoned alley somewhere. I bet you didn't even bother to clean up after yourself, did you?" Dervla clucked her tongue this time, and cinched her robe tighter when he grinned at her and folded his arms over his bare chest. Then he threatened to take the body parts and throw it in the oven. She hissed at him, frowning darkly. "No, don't burn them, I can use them for something. Just practice your spells more next time. That much damage to the flesh means we can only work with the bones." Reanimated skeletons were suddenly a new interest of hers after meeting Aviad's interesting little bird friend.

"Well, we can't be working in in this state of dress. Stay put. Don't touch anything. I need to put on real clothes and at least find you a shirt. You'll probably get stuck with a lumpy sweater, it's about all I have to fit you." Dervla took a step back, inspecting the rest of his clothing. "Those trousers will have to go, too," she told him. "I've got some upstairs that ought to fit well enough for now. Might be a bit short on the legs... Don't worry, they aren't pink." She gave him one more look- sizing him up- before disappearing back up the spiral staircase. It took her a few minutes to get upstairs, put on clothes, find something for him to wear, and make her way back to the basement. She pushed a set of silky pajamas in his arms. The waistband was elastic, and the top buttoned up.

"I'm not letting you in my laboratory if you aren't dressed," she stated simply. "So you either put these on without a fuss, or you can take your bag of bones and mush and find somewhere else to get rid of them." Dervla stepped over to the large shelves against the wall and began plucking some potion ingredients, settling the glass jars carefully into a small wicker basket. She dropped a few pairs of disposable gloves on top of the basket (one good thing to come from the muggles) and then turned to face Fox again. "Hurry it up, then," she told him. "I'm not going to wait around for you to get dressed. Whatever you've got is nothing I haven't seen before, trust me." She carried the basket over to the store room. Using her wand, she quietly cast a few spells on the reinforced door. She pressed the tip of her wand against, moving it in the shape of a few runes, and then the heavy door swung open. The inside of the storage room was cluttered. Lighting the tip of her wand, she picked her way over some of the stuff on the floor, stopping in front of a few heavy, steel embalming tables.

"Bring that bag in here and watch your step," she called back over her shoulder. "Don't want you to fall and get hurt." Dervla used her wand to move the embalming tables against the wall. Then she tapped the tip of he wand against the floor and two door handles appeared. Setting the basket on the ground, she gripped the handles and with great effort pulled them open. A small wooden staircase was revealed, leading down into the dug out room which served as her laboratory. The walls were lined in brick, and it was very cold. She lit the lamps along the wall with her wand as she made her way down the stairs, basket in her free hand.

Once in the laboratory proper, she set the rickety lights hanging from the ceiling to burn as brightly as possible, bathing the room in bright, white light. Dervla placed the basket on her work table, then looked over to the man with the body. "Bring that bag over here and sit it down. See that cauldron over there?" she motioned to a large pot in the corner, hung over an even larger, brick fire pit. "Go stoke those coals and get the fire burning hot. Flesh is useless, we'll have to repair and strip these bones to do anything with them. Once you get the fire hot, fill the cauldron half way with water. Then come over here, put on some gloves, and help me lay the body parts out on this table where they go. Probably going to be a messy job, judging from the sound of the bag."

Don’t touch anything.

Dervla disappeared up the caracole staircase, and a soft smirk trickled across Adam’s face. That which was not allowed was always far more tempting than what was, and he’d already been rather tempted to go exploring. The charm he’d cast on his body was turning out to work rather well and the chill was no longer as prominent; stepping away from the long, unused table, he turned his grey eyes on the metal slabs with bodies on them. It might be morbid curiosity, but the assassin felt a slight pressure against his diaphragm, a slight sense of giddy excitement as he took a leap. There was also a sense of foreboding in the air, but like everything tonight it was all rather tempting. Reaching for the white blanket, he pulled it back and looked down at a disfigured corpse with a look of deep amusement: he found it all rather fun, his heart actually pulsing against his damned lungs as he carefully placed the blanket back down in as close a position as it had been as he could manage. Adam was about to move towards a second body, when the sound of footsteps had him turning on his heels and hurrying towards the empty table, leaning against it and folding his arms over his chest with a look of deep boredom on his face.

“Took you long enough,” He snapped, but in a good humored fashion, tossing her a playful smirk –which turned rather downcast as she tossed clothes into his folded arms and he glanced down at them: striped fucking pajamas, with elastic and buttons included. “You just want to get me thrown into Azkaban for crimes against fashion!” He moaned in complaint, honestly only half joking. His leather jacket was still over a nearby chair, but there was no way in hell he was going to pair it against this set up. “I should inform you where you can stick those bones,” He muttered through clenched teeth –but he was rather certain she wasn’t bluffing when she informed him he wouldn’t be entering the laboratory half-naked, and that wasn’t a chance he was willing to take. She was making her way around gathering stuff, yet he was still staring down at them with something akin to disgust in his eyes. “Oh, believe me, you’ve never seen anything close to what I’ve got hidden,” He growled, at the same time as he wished he could show her and preoccupied himself with unbuttoning his jeans –a rather screwed up mixture of thought processes that made his scowl turn into half a leer and his voice come out both guttural and heated. An odd combination, honestly.

By the time his jeans had pooled around his ankles and he had actually managed to step out of them, Dervla was already opening a heavy door. With a roll of his eyes at how eager the woman must be to get on with her little experiments, Adam made haste of pulling on the ugly pajama pants and tugging his arms through the top –buttoning it up was a whole other matter that took a few extra minutes. With another growl –just for added exaggeration of his current venture into bad fashion choices-, Adam picked up the body bag as indicated. Bones rattled, and that at least served to better his mood, and even set a bit more of a jingle to his steps once again as he followed Dervla into the other room, being careful not to step on anything, and following her down into the steps. It suddenly became rather cold, and Adam found that not even the warming charm and the pajama top were enough to keep the chill away.

Once they were both in the laboratory and Adam had dropped the bag on the ground with yet another loud rattle of bones, and growled all over again as he was ordered around like a common house elf. Still, he did as he was told, accommodating the coals and setting them to burn. Then, having filled the cauldron half the way with water out of his wand, Adam stalked towards the table. “Gloves?” He questioned, immediately spotting them and pulling on a pair. The smile on his face was positively ecstatic, as he hooked his ankle around the bag on the ground and pulled it towards them.

This was where things would get exciting.

The sound began against as a striking of his vocal chords as he reached down, shuffled his hands through the mixture of broken meat and hard bones until he grabbed a round one he felt certain he recognized. The head he pulled out was rather deformed, but still recognizably a head with  some facial features intact but most quite missing. “I really did go a bit over board,” He vaguely remembered that the spell hadn’t been supposed to severe the body into peaces, but simply break the bones –so the fact that the skull wasn’t attached to the neck was a fair indicator that he’d exaggerated. With a shrug as if it really didn’t matter, and feeling every bit like a child at Christmas, Adam gingerly placed the skull on the table and then glanced at Dervla. “Your turn!”

"I can get you thrown into Azkaban for far more than crimes against fashion, Fox. And if you don't stop smarting off to me this late at night after dripping blood on my floors and bringing me almost-useless body parts, I just might." It was an empty threat. Dervla was just as guilty in these situations that arose as whoever donated to her the bodies she experimented on. (If she got them via nefarious means.) Not reporting the crime and then practicing illegal magic on the corpses was most certainly a one way ticket straight to Azkaban- a trip she had zero desire to make and could never weasel her way out of if she implicated Fox in any of the murders that she knew for a fact he was directly responsible for. Even so, the threat sounded good and almost genuine in her raspy, late night voice.

She was glad he went to stoking the fire underneath the cauldron without argument, surprised that he didn't even flinch as he pulled a head out of the plastic bag on the floor. "A bit overboard?" she asked, arching a brow. "You only call this a bit? This is probably one of the most awful ways you could ever kill a person, Fox." Dervla reached into the bag and pulled out a foot, and settled it near the end of the table. "It's absolutely depraved, and I do not mean that as a compliment. I'm certain this poor fellow couldn't have deserved what you did to him. Have you ever considered more humane methods of execution?" she asked, fishing in the bag and finding the other foot. "I understand it's a job, and you've got to make your money somehow, and if you didn't do it then they'd find someone else to do it for them, but really- it's a bit cruel and vicious. And there is no doubt that this," she motioned at the body parts alread laidout on the table, "is overkill."

Even Dervla's stomach was doing flip flops at the mess that was in the bag Fox had brought into her home. She'd never really considered him especially dangerous or terrible until this very moment... But fresh ingredients were hard to come by, and beggars couldn't be choosers. "Since you've done so much damage to the flesh and the bones, it's going to take longer than usual to get everything ready," she explained. Walking through the steps of what they needed to do helped Dervla distance herself from what was actually going on. That and she liked having an attentive audience.

"First we're going to lay out the body in the shape it would take were he complete. Then we're going to brew a potion that will be used to strip the bones. Dissolves the flesh in seconds. Next we will line up all of the stripped bones back on the table and clean everything up..." She trailed off for a moment, wiping a mixture of blood and flesh from the table. "Once the work area is clean, we'll repair all of the bones. If you're no good with healing spells, then you can watch that part. If you muck it up, you might shatter one beyond repair. And I'd rather keep things as intact as possible. Once our skeleton is, more or less, whole and assembled we'll move on to the fun part. But that will probably take a while..." Dervla found what appeared to be a chunk of the chest. "Considering the state of things."

"But if you have no where to be, then we should be able to work through the night without interruption. Unless, of course, some poor sod decides to shuffle off this mortal coil at some point in time this evening. If so, then you'll have to bugger off so I can do some actual work and we'll pick back up tomorrow." If she waited on him to get back before she finished the experiment that was already starting to form in her mind. This had a lot of potential to be absolutely brillaint. (If Fox didn't get in her way or ruin it all at some point throughout the process of stripping, cleaning, and preparing the bones.) "But in the future, Fox, the less damaged the corpse the better I can use it for my purposes." At the very least, if this didn't work, she could powder the human bones to use as potion ingredients in her other activities. "The next time you pulverize someone like this, you can take care of the disposal on your own. Or if you need to use my ovens then you can bring me a few shiny coins for my time."

Adam Turner was rather pleased with himself, and the soft smirk on his face as well as the low humming that came from the base of his throat, were clear proof of that. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t help but grin as Dervla spoke, while she pulled two feet out of the plastic bag –and the large grin and nod of appreciation was rather unavoidable at her calling the entire matter rather depraved. “How is that not a compliment?” He questioned, as he glanced down at the bloody gloves on his hands and frowned: his cheek itched, but he really rather not get any more blood on himself than he already had –as it was, he was already going to have to take a rather long shower. With a sigh, he rolled his eyes, and rested a hand on each corner at the end of the table, shoulders hunching slightly as he fixed his grey eyes on her face. “I admit –it’s more than a bit overboard,” He didn’t quite regret it, as it was a rather fun experiment, but there were ways around killing that didn’t leave such a mess. “Still,” He shrugged, as he tapped a finger against the metal slap and enjoyed the way the sound echoed around the laboratory. “Killing gets boring unless I try out new stuff,” Another shrug, and he pushed away from the table. Adam began to fold his arms over his chest, but remembered the blood on his gloves and decided that leaving evidence on the pajama’s the woman had lent him was probably rather not the best of ideas, so instead he let his hands swing at his sides.

“We’ve got all night,” He replied nonchalantly at her mention of how much longer this would take than usual –wondering if she wasn’t slightly angry he’d brought her a body in less than prime conditions. Still, he didn’t quite care, as he reached down into a bag to retrieve a bone that took a bit of work to identify as a rip. Eyes narrowing, he glanced at the table and considered a second, quickly painting a mental picture of how the body would be laid out, and placing the bone at about the spot he imagined it would go. “Though, I think you’re probably going to have more bones than anything else,” He chuckled –turned out skin and flesh really were nothing but a bag to hold up bones. And, apparently, most of these bones had decided to slip out of place.

The explanation she gave for how they were going to proceed got him in a rather giddy, excited state, especially as she placed what seemed to be a bit of chest on the table. Some of the bones were picked clean, while others still had meat and skin attached to them; as each new body part was pulled out of the bag, he grew to realize that he really had exaggerated the spell. Glancing up at Dervla, Adam rolled his eyes. “I didn’t mean to make such a mess,” He complained, feeling like a child being scolded after he’d sneaked the cookie out of the jar and been caught. “The spell was only meant to break all the bones in the body,” In hindsight, maybe he should have realized this wouldn’t be an easy kill, but rather a messy one –but the possibility of hearing that cracking had been too delicious to ignore. “So stop complaining, and just admit you’re as excited to work with this as I was to try out the new spell,” He snapped, before smiling, and deciding there was one other way to get Dervla to shut the hell up.

Laying the second rib on the table, he pressed away and stepped over the garbage bag, maneuvering over to the woman. Standing before her, he forced himself to smile seductively –not hard to manage, considering he was feeling quite in the mood for a snog right about now- and place a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” He stated, and surely the apology would shock her enough. Moving his hand, he place his palm against her cheek and pressed his thumb into the side of her nose –apparently, this was turning out to be a bit more clumsy than actually attractive, but Adam was aware he was bloody hot and if he went far enough he’d have his lips against hers. But that really wasn’t the purpose. “I promise to bring you a few fresh, not messed up bodies soon –just stop reminding me how messy this one is, yeah?” His smirk was lazy but sinful, as he dragged his tongue along his bottom lip and pulled his hand away from her jaw –and saw the bloody handprint he’d left on her face. “Oh,” He whispered –but hopefully she just wouldn’t notice it. His arms hovered to his side once again as he jerked his chin in her direction. “We good to keep going?”

"If you don't understand how it is not a compliment, then you are more than hopeless, Fox." She shook her head, grunting as a ringlet fell from the way she had her hair pinned. The last thing she needed was hair in her face. With the task at hand she couldn't be touching her face or hair. She didn't want to end up covered in blood or feeling disgusting. She blew the bit of hair off of her forehead as they continued to lay the man's body out on the table. "Yes, definitely more than a bit. And killing should probably stay boring. You don't want to end up on the Ministry's Most Wanted list. You go trying to be too clever and you'll be easier to find. Keeping a low profile is best for a job like you have." And if he didn't realize that, then he would deserve being caught and thrown into Azkaban. He was lucky the dementors weren't there to make life hell anymore. "Where did you learn a spell like that, anyway?" she asked. "I'm sure it wasn't at Hogwarts. What kind of books have you been reading? Or is it people you've been talking to?"

"Bones are fine. We can work with bones. I just prefer the chance to play with the corpse before I get stuck with nothing but bones left. I understand that I can't be too picky, but if you're going to bring me slop like this, I'd rather go dig up fresh graves for supplies." Only muggle graves, of course. Grave robbing in the wizarding world was something that would lead scarlet robes directly to her door. If anything strange popped up that looked like necromancy, they liked to ask her questions. And she liked to be able to honestly say she had no idea what they were talking about. At least she could rely on being thought of as some strange scholar rather than a criminal. Given her past job at the ministry and technically clean record, she could be written off as some eccentric woman morbidly fascinated by death.

Dervla grunted when he told her to to stop complaining and admit she was excited. She was excited, but didn't' want him to think he could keep bringing her gooey mass of bone and flesh. She needed more than that. "What the hell are you doing?" she asked when he came near her. She watched, in agitation, as a gloved hand rested on her shoulder. The other found its way to her cheek and he was apologizing. "If you try and kiss me over a bloody corpse with those gloves on, you're going to lose two friends who are near and dear to you, Fox. And you touch me with those bloody hands again, and I'll dip you head first into that boiling cauldron and use your skeleton as a decoration, got it?" She gave him a level stare, glad when he finally lowered his hands to his sides.

"You finish laying him out, I have a potion to brew," she stated. Dervla stripped off her gloves and threw them into a metal pail at the bottom of the table. Then she found a rag, dipped it into a cleaning potion, and wiped the blood from her face and shoulder. It was one thing to get messy doing a job, another to get messy from some idiot who couldn't keep his hands to himself. "And if you don't know where something goes, just set it over to the side and we'll figure it out after we strip the bones."

Picking up her basket of potion ingredients, Dervla moved over to the cauldron. She summoned a book from a shelf and enchanted it to hover in the air as she found the right page. The water was boiling now. Dervla began to carefully measure out ingredients, throwing them into the cauldron as needed. She made sure to follow the instructions word for word, counting the number of times she stirred the potion. She focused on that task for about ten minutes, floating the book back over to the shelf after the last herb was added. She gave it six more stirs and it glowed a bright, acidic green. "Now we have to let it simmer for fifteen minutes and it will be ready," Dervla told him. "You finish with that body yet?"