With the amount of energy I had spent just reanimating the body and then attempting to heal the damage to it, I was exhausted by the time we reached Jen’s centre-terrace house, smack in the middle of one of the rougher council estates in Hull.

The grassy areas between rows of houses were either overgrown or patchy, with dead grass while discarded junk food wrappers littered the edges of the paths. Graffiti was scrawled across walls and weather-worn fences.

Each house was almost exactly the same. Red brick with a slanted grey tile roof, and narrow windows set high into the first floor, while the ground floor had a larger window and dirty-white PVC door. What little garden space there was, was poorly utilized, often with overgrown bushes and weeds growing wild.

Despite the late hour, there were plenty of lights on in the windows and the over loud sounds of people who cared little about disturbing their neighbours filled the air.

Becca led me to the front door and stood, waiting. I cocked an eyebrow in query, too weary to ask her why she was waiting and she gave a pointed look at the purse I had found not far from where my new body had been lying.

Sheepishly I dug into it and came up with a set of keys. It took me a couple of attempts to find the correct one for the lock but soon enough the door swung open and I hesitated. I glanced back at Becca who looked questioningly back at me.

“Will her parents…” I left it hanging, not sure how best to frame the question.

Becca shook her head anyway, understanding what I meant. “Her mum left them years ago and her dad's a drunk. He’ll not be home till the early hours and will likely just sleep wherever he crashes.”

That made things easier. Neglectful parents would mean less of a struggle to pretend to be their daughter. I stepped in through the door and Becca followed, reaching up to flick a light switch as I closed the door behind us.

“This way,” she said and headed immediately up the stairs.

That she didn’t take her shoes off told me a great deal. Not so much a family that was concerned with housekeeping then. Though a cursory glance at the tired carpet on the floor that hadn’t been vacuumed for at least a couple of days would have told me that.

I followed her up the stairs.

Jen’s bedroom was smaller than I had envisaged. There was barely enough room for the queen-sized bed, a wardrobe and a set of drawers. Somehow a small desk had been crammed beneath the window though there wasn’t room for a chair. To sit at it, Jen must have had to perch on the edge of her bed.

Clothes had been strewn around the room, covering nearly every inch of the floor and a large part of the bed, while on the dresser was an impressive amount of makeup and bottles that I had no idea what they contained.

“You should shower,” Becca said, dropping down onto the bed. “You’re covered in muck from where you were…” she licked suddenly dry lips and looked away, eyes shimmering once more. “From where Jen was lying.”

“Sure.” Better to agree than to have to deal with an emotional outburst that could lead her to regret her decision to let me stay in the body. “Bathroom?”

“Next door to your left.”

The bathroom was about what I expected from seeing the state of the rest of the house. Toothpaste stains on the sink and a toilet badly in need of a scrubbing brush. The tiles in the shower were covered in soap scum and the grouting was black with mould.

There was a towel hanging behind the door and it felt dry and at least smelt clean, so I let out a sigh and stripped off the soiled clothing before dumping it into an already overflowing hamper beside the sink.

I paused before getting in the shower and looked over my new body, using the mirror fixed to the wall above the sink.

Too pale skin and a narrow face. Pretty, in a way, with well-defined cheekbones and eyes of clear blue. A small, slightly upturned nose and straight, white, teeth. Someone I wouldn’t have noticed in my previous life, I was sure.

Small breasts and narrow hips and waist. She had been active, but not an athlete. There was little real strength in her arms and less muscle. That would be a problem. If I wanted to stand a chance of surviving my next encounter with my killers, I would need to be able to hold my own both physically and magically.

Which meant I would need to get to work training with both. The girl had latent power, which was what had drawn me to her body. That gift of magic that lay untapped in her. At some point in her family line, there had been a witch. Far enough back that they had not been around to train her, but only to gift her with an ability she hadn’t known she had.

If she had, she would not have died so easily.

Another sigh and I rushed through a shower. The water was barely hot and I was too tired to linger. Once finished, I dried myself off and wrapped the towel around my body as I had seen girlfriends do in the past, and headed back to Jen’s, no, my, room.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Underwear’s in the top drawer,” Becca said, lifting her chin towards the chest of drawers.

“Thanks.” I pulled the drawer open and looked in, a frown forming. “Jesus.”

“What?”

“Does she own any that isn’t covered in lace or fucking bows?” I muttered.

“If your masculinity is so fragile that wearing some frilly knickers is upsetting, you had better leave that body now.”

“My masculinity is fine, thanks,” I said, chuckling. “I just prefer understated, is all.”

I grabbed the plainest pair I could find and pulled them on. Becca tossed me an oversized t-shirt that Jen had used for sleeping in and I turned my back to her as I let the towel drop and pulled the shirt on.

“You still have some make-up on,” Becca said as I sat beside her on the bed.

“Yeah, I scrubbed at it but it refuses to budge.”

“Did you use the makeup remover?”

“The what?” I looked at her blankly as a musical peal of laughter filled the room. She shook her head and had to look away before she could get herself back under control.

“Oh, Christ! You have a lot to learn.”

“Guess I do.”

“How old were you… when you died?”

“Twenty,” I said, not looking at her. “Almost twenty-one.”

“Jen was eighteen.”

“I’d have been around twenty-five now.” If I’d not been betrayed.

“Where was it you lived?”

“Outside of York.” I didn’t really want to go into the details of my past life and Becca seemed to sense that as she didn’t push. “Did Jen know you’re a necro?”

“No.” Her response was a little too prim and she pressed her lips firmly together as though trying to stop herself from saying more.

“I get it. Keep it secret from the humans. Jen wasn’t though.”

“Wasn’t what?”

“Human. She was a witch.”

“Seriously!”

“It’s what drew me to her body.”

She considered that for a moment and then her eyes widened as she gaped at me. “You’re a witch!”

“Yes.”

In the supernatural pecking order, witches are high on the list. Certainly much higher than a necromancer. The covens controlled a large part of that supernatural world, providing jobs and services to the other supernatural races and making themselves incredibly wealthy doing so.

Of course, to both achieve and maintain their power and wealth, the covens were particularly vicious. None more so than my own.

“The Winter Coven,” Becca said. “You were one of them.”

“Yes.”

“Then why not ask them for help? Surely they would be better suited to finding your body and restoring your soul to it.”

“We had a difference of opinion,” I said, looking away. “Not something I want to discuss.”

Becca nodded slowly. She seemed to know exactly how hard to push and when to back off. A rare gift and one that would serve her well in life if she utilized it properly.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” she said, changing the subject. “That gives us two days to get you filled in on Jen’s life. Enough that you can pass as her, anyway.”

“Why two days?”

“We don’t have college till Monday.”

“College?”

“Sixth-form.” Becca grinned, amusement flaring in her dark eyes. “Another two months before exams.”

“Bugger.” That was all I needed. “How well-known was she?”

“Plenty of friends and a few enemies too,” Becca said. “Nothing major. Mean girl nonsense.”

Great.

“Anything else I should know?”

“Just that she’d had a falling out with Mark which is why she got so drunk at the party tonight.”

My heart sank a little and I closed my eyes. I knew what the answer was going to be but I had to ask anyway. “Who is, Mark?”

Becca’s grin widened. “Her boyfriend.”

Fucking great!

“He’ll probably be around tomorrow to apologise and make up.”

“Yeah, that ain’t happening.”

“Sorry,” Becca said, a steely glint in her eye as her expression hardened. “He might be her killer so I will command you to meet him if I have to.”

My hands curled into fists at that threat and it took a moment for me to dampen the rage that was building inside of me before I could unclench them. I met her implacable stare with one of my own.

“We need to set some boundaries.”

“I agree.”

“You can’t just threaten to force me to do whatever you want.”

“And you can’t take advantage of my friend's body.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“You know what the hell it means!” she snapped back. “It’s what any horny boy would do if he suddenly found himself in a girl's body! But I won’t let you do that, not to Jen!”

I stared at her blankly before I let out a burst of laughter. Her cheeks heated and her lips pressed firmly together but she didn’t rise to the bait.

“Don’t worry,” I snapped back. “That is the last thing I have any interest in doing.”

“I don’t believe you. Unless you’re gay, why wouldn’t you?”

“I’m renting this body, not buying it! You should know this.”

“Know what?”

“What kind of necro are you?”

“Obviously, a bad one! Tell me what you mean.”

I sneered but I held out my hand. “Take it.”

She hesitated a bare moment before she took hold of my hand in hers. “Now what?”

“Squeeze it. As hard as you can.”

Becca did, with as much strength as she dared. My fingers were squashed together beneath her grip and the skin of my hand whitened as the blood flow was cut off. She held it like that until her arm trembled and she had no choice but to let go.

“What did that prove?”

“I barely felt it.” I touched the still-sore muscles of my neck. “This is barely noticeable now and it should be sore for days.”

“You’re healing yourself, what does that have to do with-“

“It isn’t just the healing,” I said, interrupting her. “I’m barely connected to it. Sure, I could feel you squeezing my hand but it wasn’t painful. Only the most extreme damage will even register to me because this isn’t my body. It’s a meat suit that I’m riding.”

Becca’s eyes went round as the implications of that sank in. “So… you can’t…”

“I could, but there wouldn’t be any real pleasure.”

Her eyes softened and the faintest of smiles returned to her face along with a wave of relief. “That must be unpleasant. Not feeling.”

“It’s a good thing. If I start to feel the little things, it would mean that I was becoming too connected to this body and that’s dangerous.”

“Why?”

“Because then I couldn’t leave. My soul and this body would become one and the only way to separate them would be another death.”

“So no jumping back into your own body?” I shook my head and she thought about that for a moment. “What if you ‘died’ again? Your soul would be free.”

“When you die, your soul leaves the body but is immediately taken away to whatever fate awaits you. There wouldn’t be any time for me to jump into another body. I would be trapped in the afterlife again.”

Which, for me, would mean a return to hell. Not something I really wanted to contemplate.

“How long before you start to… connect... with Jen’s body?”

A good question and showed an intuition that I’d not expected from her as young and inexperienced as she was. “No idea.”

“Then you really should get your coven to help you find your body!” Becca said. “If they help you then you’ll have time to get back into it.”

“Not happening,” I said, shaking my head.

“Why not?”

“Because they’re the ones that killed me,” I snapped back.