The Necromancer's Smile

by Lisa Oliver

  “Do you know the serial killer?” Dakar prodded Clive in the chest, pushing him back, causing his colleagues to scramble. “You claim to have a lot of sources and an unhealthy interest in the most powerful magic user in Pedace. What do you know about this case?”

  “Nothing,” Clive protested, looking around at the other journalists for support. “I’m human.”

  “So was the serial killer. So were the five poor young men who’d been taken from their homes years before and who ended up murdered all for some deviant’s amusement. The eight young men we rescued during the killer’s take down were also human. This is a human crime against humans.”

  “There’re bad apples among every species,” Clive tried to stand upright which wasn’t easy when some of his brasher colleagues were busy filming the interaction. “That doesn’t explain why you’re here at the Necromancer’s mansion first thing in the morning. My readers have a right to know. What’s the magic user’s connection with this?”

  He’s my mate! Dakar wanted to scream the words to the sky; he wanted to tell everyone that he, a lowly detective was true mated to the one man who had more power in his little finger than any of the beings in front of him. But commonsense prevailed along with imagined headlines. ‘Detective and Necromancer in Collusion.’ ‘Corruption among police ranks as Detective stays silent on serial killer case.’ Articles filled with innuendo with no basis of fact but the damage to Sy’s reputation would increase.

  Standing tall, Dakar met the eyes of every reporter present, making sure each one of them noted the presence of his wolf in his eyes. “Prince Sebastian York has been the trusted consultant of the Pedace police department for ten years. His work with our department is invaluable. In his private practice he has spent his life consoling families and providing answers to those inevitable questions that occur then a loved one dies suddenly. His unique ability to talk with the dead is one that is accessed by people from all walks of life in our fair town and the police department hope their long association with him continues. As to specifics about his assistance in this case, I regret that while our investigations continue I can say nothing more. Now, if there is nothing else, we all have somewhere else we have to be.”

  “Don’t think I’m not onto your lies, Detective,” Clive hissed as Dakar turned and opened the passenger door to the car. “I’ve been on the police beat for five years and this is the first time the Necromancer has ever been involved in a police case. You’re a newcomer, so I’ll assume you don’t know how things work in this town. But choose your friends carefully. Association with the dark ones in this town won’t do you or your career any favors.”

  “Is that a threat?” Dakar’s voice was calm, but the claws that shot from the end of his fingers told another story.

  “A friendly piece of advice, Detective, nothing more.” Clive wisely moved back but held out his card. “I have numerous contacts in this town. Maybe you’ll have need of my help one day.”

  Spearing the card with one of his claws, Dakar slid into the open door of the limousine and slammed the door shut. “Run them over,” he snarled as he flicked the card to the floor. Brock immediately turned the ignition key. Seconds later the limo was moving carefully through the crowd.

  Reaching down, Sy scooped up the card, a wry smile on his face as he slipped it into a plastic bag and put it in his pocket. “That reporter was very careless; discarding something he’s touched and that relates to him personally. As one who travels through the veil, there is a wealth of damage I could do with that sort of information if I was indeed one of the dark ones the reporter mentions.”

  Shocked from his own anger at Clive and his insidious innuendo, Dakar just stared. Sy was dressed in his Necromancer’s garb and yet the smile that graced his face was one of a lover sharing secrets. Dakar’s mind flashed back to the night they met; the night when he’d put his giant-sized feet in his mouth. He’d wondered then what Sy’s face would look like when he smiled. It was as glorious as he’d imagined.

  “I wouldn’t actually do anything, of course.” Sy clearly misunderstood his silence. “But when one throws shit at others, they shouldn’t be surprised if they get an infection from the manure they carry around.”

  “I wanted to proclaim to the world you’re mine.” Dakar said the first thing that came into his head. “How do you live with the ignorance around you?”

  “I remind myself that one day I will meet them beyond the veil,” Sy said simply. “Death is not only a great leveler, it’s also a huge learning experience for the uninitiated. You’d be amazed at how many people who slander me in life, can’t wait to hold my hand on the other side.”

  Dakar wasn’t quick enough to swallow his growl at the holding hands comment. He covered it up by pulling Sy close and burying his face in his curls. From the stiffness of his body, Dakar realized his mate had been affected by the things he heard more than he’d let on and he vowed at the very next opportunity, the world was going to know Sy was his precious mate. Being a hand in need on the other side of the veil was one of Sy’s many duties, but Dakar now had a new purpose. He was going to show the town of Pedace just how important their Necromancer could be on this side of the veil.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “You know what would make this easier?” Brock murmured as Sy prepared to call on the spirit of the deceased killer. It wasn’t something he made a habit of doing; preferring to leave the dead in peace or visit them on the other side of veil. Spirits torn back through to the living side of things weren’t necessarily co-operative, but Dakar’s idea had merit in this case. They did need answers. But it wasn’t like Brock to interfere while he was going through his preparation ritual. “We should have brought the familiar with us – Connor,” Brock added when Sy ignored him.

  Sy stopped long enough to rub the middle of his forehead. “I’m not bonded to him; I don’t plan on bonding with any familiar especially one who’s been force bonded before. What good would come from having him here?”

  “Having who here?” Dakar strolled over from where he’d been talking to Brad and Doctor Barker and Sy stepped away from the table. “If you’re worried about the last victim, don’t be. Brad got him to the hospital and he’s making a full recovery. His family is with him, full of praise for him having been found at last. The other victims taken to safety by the officers are with Family Services until their families can be notified. It’s all good.”

  “I’m glad they’re safe, but no, Brock wasn’t talking about them. We have a familiar staying with us. Connor.” Sy sighed. “He was force bonded to Forth; the bond broke when Forth died. Brock seems to think he’d be useful here.”

  “A cat?” It was Dakar’s turn to frown. “I never scented anything like that at your house and yet you say he’s living there? How come I didn’t know he was there?”

  “Familiars are human,” Sy explained. “Although some of them can shift into other animals which is probably where you got the idea of the cat from. But Connor is very definitely human – as a familiar, he’s a magical conduit and of course he’s staying at my house. It’s part of my job to look after unbonded familiars until they can support themselves or find themselves a witch they chose to bond with. He’s been through a rough time of it lately. You won’t have noticed him because he stays in the guest wing, which is totally separate from the main house. Just because familiars are my responsibility doesn’t mean I want to share my bathroom with them.”

  “Sir prefers his privacy,” Brock agreed. “It’s why the guest wing was created. It’s also why, despite employing over twenty domestic staff, you’ll never see anyone but myself in Sy’s half of the house. However, domestic concerns are not what’s important now. I think I should go and get Connor. He would provide a useful earth between the veil and the body.”

  “Earth?”

  Sy could tell Dakar was even more confused and probably a little unhappy someone else was sharing his house. But if he had to explain every nuance of his work, simply because
they were mated, it was going to get frustrating very quickly. Maybe he could write a book about it, just for Dakar. Later.

  “An earth is what holds the spirit to the body while the questioning takes place. It stops the spirit trying to inhabit anyone else who happens to be in the room.” Sy looked at his arrangements around the corpse. “I was planning on doing it myself, but if you think Connor will be a better idea, Brock, then I defer to your judgement. Go and get him. But if I think this will upset Connor in any way, then I’ll send him straight back to the house. I’m sure he’s too young to have experienced necromancy in any shape or form. He’s still recovering from whatever Forth did with him.”

  “The young familiar is in perfect health. I assure you, he’ll be fine,” Brock gave a brief nod. “I will be back directly.” Brock’s body disappeared in a smattering of particles leaving Sy ridiculously aware of Dakar’s hovering presence. How am I meant to focus with him around being all sexy and…and…him?

  “We have a house guest you didn’t think to tell me about?” Dakar’s breath whispered across his ear.

  “Don’t you think we’ve been rather busy to chat about domestic concerns?” Sy wanted to pull away, but it seemed when Dakar came within two feet of him all he wanted to do was touch. He reached behind him and pulled Dakar’s arm around his waist, leaning against his broad chest. “I haven’t seen you moving your things into the house yet. We’ve not even talked about if you’re going to stay with me. I can’t leave my house and I don’t have a say in the day-to-day running of it; I leave all that to Brock. But don’t you think we should be sharing an address before you start wondering who else lives there?”

  “I’m renting an apartment, month to month,” Dakar crooned as though he was making love to Sy’s ear. At least that’s what is sounded like to him. “I can be packed and out of there in an hour. I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

  A sickening thought felled Sy out of nowhere and he turned in Dakar’s arms, ignoring Dr. Barker and Brad completely. “This is real, isn’t it? What we have,” He whispered, his hands flattening against the heat of Dakar’s chest. “We are permanent, aren’t we? We’re always going to be together, no matter what?”

  “Always and forever. No one else, just you and me,” Dakar leaned over, his breath brushing over Sy’s heated face. “I told you before, I wanted to tell the world we’re together this morning. But our mating is far too important and precious to tack onto the end of a news release about a killer, don’t you agree? Especially, after what you said about keeping Brock out of the public eye.”

  “I do. I know.” Sy wasn’t sure where his unease was coming from, but he’d learned years ago not to ignore it. “It’s just…I don’t know why I’m feeling this way. Like some giant thundercloud is heading our way, or like someone is waiting around the corner ready to brain me with a baseball bat.”

  “No one is going to separate us,” Dakar growled and Sy tilted his chin to meet stormy eyes. “You might not know a lot about my kind, or maybe you’ve read a lot about us and just haven’t considered what those words mean in real life but know this. When the thunderclouds come, I’ll be the one holding the umbrella over your head. No one will be waiting for you around any corner, because I’ll smell him first and beat that sucker’s brains out with his own bat. You and I are forever and nothing and nobody can tear apart fated mates. If you can’t believe in them, then believe in me. Everyone knows a wolf shifter can’t lie to their fated mate.”

  Sy let out the long breath he didn’t know he was holding, resting his forehead on Dakar’s shirt. “I’m sorry. I’m just being silly. This is all so new to me, you know? I’ve never had anyone I’ve cared about before except Brock and I know he can’t die.”

  “And now you’re terrified something will happen to me.” Dakar’s grin was evident in his tone. “You realize I now know how much you care about me. That makes me happier than you could ever imagine.”

  “Silly puppy,” Sy stroked the chest he was leaning on. “How could anyone not care about you.”

  /~/~/~/~/

  Dakar wondered if he would ever get over the dichotomy that was his mate. On the one hand, Sy was cute, shy and seemed so innocent about sex, life, and being in a relationship. But when he swirled his coat, banged his staff on the tiled floor of the morgue and called out for the dead serial killer to come back to his body, the hair on the back of Dakar’s neck stood up. Sy’s power filled his nostrils, causing his wolf to sit up and howl. It was impressive, it was other-worldly and through it all, all Dakar wanted to do was fall to his knees and beg to suck his mate’s cock.

  Which was not the way to conduct a police investigation. In a morgue. With his partner Brad throwing him knowing looks, and Doctor Barker sniggering in his chair. Flipping out his notebook, Dakar addressed the animated corpse. The glazed eyes were knowing once more and if it wasn’t for the long line of crude stitches running from the man’s collar bone to where they disappeared under the sheet, Dakar would swear the man was still alive.

  “The wolf shifter,” the dead man sneered as Dakar caught his eye. “You lived. What a pity. Did you eat the bottled hearts left for my master, or did you manage to restrain yourself?”

  “You’re only here to answer the questions.” Dakar looked down at his note pad. “Why did you attempt to kill Roy Peters?”

  “A man needs a hobby.” The killer scratched his nose. “I needed his heart. He wasn’t going to live without it.”

  “We found five hearts belonging to five dead young men in jars in your killing room,” Brad said from the other side of the table. “Why were you keeping the hearts?”

  “They were to be an offering to the all-powerful necromancer,” the dead man sneered. “Thirteen hearts. Thirteen innocents willingly giving up their lives so that he might be immortal.”

  Necromancer? He can’t mean….? Dakar looked at Sy who was standing at the head of the steel table the corpse was on. His face was a mask and not a flicker of emotion was evident in his eyes. Despite his forbidding pose, Dakar knew the dead man had to be lying.

  “Our Necromancer has spoken with the young men you killed,” he said, turning his focus back to the table. “The one you’re working for doesn’t have a human form when he moves beyond the veil. He can’t be a Necromancer. What is he?”

  To Dakar’s surprise, the dead man laughed – a hollow sound that rang around the room and sent a chill running down his spine. “You’ve been taken in by a pretty face, detective. Do you know the significance behind the number six? The sixth victim. They all have a purpose you know. Six is the perfect number. Six days mortal man was meant to labor. Three sixes form the mark of the beast. Six is the power of balance – that sixth heart would have generated chaos. Chaos like the world has never seen.”

  “You’re talking rubbish,” Dakar scoffed. “Start saying something useful.”

  “Oh, I will, detective.” The corpse showed his lack of teeth. “Did you know, in tarot, the sixth major arcana card is the lovers, Detective? Is it any wonder you are sniffing around that innocent face now? He's tricked you, bewildered you, ensnared you, hoping to keep you off balance. Yet you were too fast for him, weren't you, wolfy, killing me, when you should've been killing him. If you’d have let me take that heart, then the innocent face you see now would’ve been unmasked to reveal who he really is. The chaos he craves lurks there under his skin, as readily as your wolf does yours. Did you fuck him, Detective? Did he claim you were mates?" The corpse laughed again. "You've been taken in, you've all been tricked. One day that innocent face will be seen for who he truly is. The devil." Yelling loudly, the dead man pointed straight at Sy, who still gave no sign of even hearing anything.

  Dakar couldn't think. He was in shock; the man's words reverberating around his brain like a pinball. Everything in his instincts told him the spirit was lying, but there was no deceit in the air. All he could smell was fucking bleach. He noticed Brad opening his mouth to ask a question, but Connor got their first, str
uggling to hold the corpse’s feet. "I can't hold him. He's too strong. Banish him before he gets loose."

  "The interview is over. Be gone, spirit," Sy yelled thumping his staff on the ground. "Be gone and never grace the land of the living again."

  The spirit's cackling laugh could still be heard long after the body stilled. For a long moment no one moved or said anything, until Brad pulled out his handcuffs. “What the hell are you doing?” Dakar asked, seeing his partner moving Sy’s free hand behind his back. “You can’t believe that spirit was serious? Sy’s no more the reason behind these killings than I am.”

  “I’m doing my job,” Brad said, clicking one end of the cuffs to Sy’s wrist. “I read the manual the Necromancer’s father provided, the same as you did. A summoned spirit can’t lie. Prince Sebastian York, I’m taking you in on the suspicion of masterminding the killing of five men, the severe wounding of a sixth and the abduction of thirteen children over the past twenty years.”

  Silently Sy handed Brock his staff and put his other hand behind his back for Brad to cuff. “Take care of Connor,” he said softly to Brock. “If we have a lawyer, it might be an idea to call me one although, I doubt it will do any good. Stay and protect the house until I return. Let no one in. No exceptions.”

  “You’re just going to accept this?” Dakar grabbed Sy by the arm as Brad tried to move his mate forward. “Just tell Brad the truth. That is wasn’t you.”

  “It wasn’t me,” Sy said and as he looked up Dakar could see the wealth of pain in his pale gray eyes. “But that spirit believes it is and I can’t prove otherwise. Not yet. Watch yourself please, detective. Someone else is walking around with my face. Trust no one, not even me unless you see the scar on my neck. Brad. Let’s go.”

  “I won’t forget you’re the one who betrayed our friendship, bear,” Brock snarled, holding a shaken Connor under his arm. “Any one with half a brain would know this was a trap and that means you’ve got bigger problems than you thought. The mastermind behind this works at the police department and can shape shift.”