Victoria Cage Necromancer: The First Three Books (Victoria Cage Necromancer Omnibus Book 1)

by Eli Constant

  “Thanks,” he smiles and gets up. “Mind if I take off for the day? Might as well go hang with Mei. She had a big exam today and I thought I might take her to lunch.”

  “Sure. Not like there’s anything else to do around here right now. Tell Mei I said hey and I miss her. Feels like forever since we’ve talked.”

  Dean’s at the doorway, floating there looking like he very much wants to run away, but also like he needs to spit something out. He decides on spitting. “She misses you too. Shoot her a text and set something up. I think sometimes she worries about coming off too clingy.”

  I snort out a laugh, because she is sort of clingy. My face falls to a frown when I realize he’s being serious though. “Shit. I’m sorry she feels that way. I hope it’s not because of me? I know I’m not always the warmest, most spontaneous person.” I bite my lip, because it probably is my fault Mei’s been keeping away from me. Last time I ordered Chinese, and she brought it over, I was pretty curt about her wanting to stay and chat for what felt like an hour. I just hadn’t been up for company. Liam had exhausted me with training that day. But what about the other times I’d snapped at her? Taken her for granted? She might be annoying sometimes, and a bit silly and immature, and still bending to her parents’ wills more than she should, but she was my friend. My best friend really.

  And I was a total bitch for taking her for granted.

  “You can be intimidating, Tori. Not every woman is as…” Dean hesitates, “as independent and sure of herself. Mei looks up to you, in some ways. Your sort of her idol, if you can believe that. So call her.” Again he pauses, quirks a little smile like he knows he’s about to push his luck. “And be nice. You might be my boss, but I love her. And that trumps a paycheck.”

  I really want to laugh again, because if Dean and I were truly chummy like I’d thought, he’d know I’m about as independent and sure of myself as a Labrador Retriever. There was a point in my life where I’d have kissed any bastard on the planet, simply for the promise of a peanut butter treat. He made some good points though, and I resented him a little for that.

  “I’ll be nice.” Is all I said back, and I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes after Dean was gone.

  Apparently, I was a bad funeral director—if my lack of bookings were an indication—a not-so-great girlfriend—who wanted to be monogamous but was having feelings for a fairy—and a really shitty friend.

  I was a pretty damn good necromancer though.

  But I didn’t think that evened the scales.

  A hot shower would wash it all away—I lied to myself. And it was a lie I’d told myself many times before.

  When I get out of the shower, my phone light is flashing. Kyle’s called and left a message. I wrap the towel around my body tighter and I enter the code to my voicemail.

  “Hey, Tori. I’m going into the bar for a bit. I think I’m feeling up to it. Not nearly as weak. Even did a few miles on Dad’s ancient exercise bike. Damn thing was nearly rusted.” Kyle chuckled a little, and I parroted the sound. Jim was into a lot of things, but fitness was far down the list. “So, anyways. Thank Liam for me. Talk later.”

  I frown when the phone beeps to indicate the message is done. The whole thing had felt a bit canned and forced. And he hadn’t talked about seeing me later. He was pulling away. I knew he didn’t want to hurt me, but this would hurt me more than any out-of-control shift would.

  My wash is ridiculously high, and all I’ve got left in my dresser are grannie panties and a ripped cotton bra that barely held the girls in. It didn’t matter; sex was probably the furthest thing from Kyle’s mind. Lately, I was like a teenage boy though—not even having the Queen of England down the hall would stop me from getting it on with my bear if the opportunity arose.

  To balance the less-than-ideal undergarments, I pulled on a long olive-green stretchy dress that swept the floor and showed off my curves. Combat boots and Adam’s jacket completed the outfit. I didn’t bother drying my hair, and the Spring air felt cool against me when I walked outside towards the business sedan. I just missed the damn Bronco, and I wasn’t ready to replace it, dammit. Maybe I’d ask Terrance to tow it here. I could keep it in the detached garage behind the Victorian. Hold onto it for just a little while longer.

  Of course, if the business kept going downhill, I’d not be able to afford gas, let alone a new personal vehicle.

  I look in the rearview mirror as I pull out of the driveway. The Victorian looms behind me, with a whisper on its lips, as if it wants to tell me something. But the mouth beyond the porch is closed. The window eyes are sleep-haze dark. And whatever it might warn me of is only silence.

  When I pull up to Jim’s, I sit for a minute and think about what I want to say.

  We’re in a relationship, Kyle. It’s you and me. When things get tough, you don’t hide away.

  Do you love me? No. What if the answer is different than it used to be.

  Help me understand what you’re going through? But can he? I’ve lived with what I am from the day I was born. I knew what might happen, what I might become. I was prepared when my powers sprang to life. Kyle didn’t have the warning, the family to walk him through destiny.

  I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.

  Good. Clean. Assertive.

  And it could completely blow up in my face.

  I take my time getting out and shutting the door. I methodically lock the sedan and put one foot in front of the other towards the bar entrance. The double doors are free of fae runes, as far as I could see. I try to recall the words Liam said in Elvish to light the fire beneath the writing, but my brain can’t focus. I can only think of one thing—how will Kyle react to me pushing myself into his sphere? How will he take me not letting him have the space he so obviously wants?

  Kyle is behind the counter, his back to the bar as he re-organizes the glasses from short to tall. Crow walks in from the back, carrying a pallet of vodka. He quirks a salt-and-pepper eyebrow at me. I nod at him and he shrugs.

  “Kyle,” I speak softly so as not to startle him.

  He turns around, confusion on his face. It changes quickly to… something like annoyance tempered with the slightest of smiles. “What are you doing here? I said I’d—”

  “Talk to me later? Yes, I listened to your message.” I slide onto a barstool like I own the place, and try to look as ‘get to business’ as possible. “Here’s the thing though. We’re in a relationship. You chose me. I chose you. We’re pretty damn good in the sack. So, when things get a little dicey, we’re not allowed to retreat from each other. And I’m afraid,” I glanced quickly at Crow, who’s engrossed in counting the vodka bottles, though I get the feeling his ears aren’t missing a single syllable of what I’m saying, “that shifting from staying most nights with me, to basically avoiding me, just isn’t something I’ll accept.”

  “Look, Tori, I wasn’t avoiding you. I just needed some time to think. And I was sick. I didn’t want to,” he also looked at Crow for a second, “make you suffer too. I mean, you could get hurt. I mean sick. You could get sick too. And this sucks. Basically the plague.”

  “If you’re well enough to be at work, Kyle, then you’re well enough to be around your girlfriend.” I crossed my arms on the bar and leaned forward to whisper. “What I am could just as easily hurt you. Don’t you get that? You’re not the only one who’s dangerous.”

  “Yeah. That’s true, but you’ve got control over yourself, Tori. I don’t. And I’m not going to risk hurting you.”

  “And I’m not going to let you walk away from me.” I leaned back and spoke normally. Maybe even a little louder than necessary. “Besides, you won’t. Liam won’t let that happen.”

  I know as soon as I’ve mentioned Liam, that I shouldn’t have. Kyle’s eyes narrow very slightly and he picks up a cloth on the bar and starts cleaning, even though the wood is spotless and shiny. For a minute, I experience Déjà vu, and it’s Jim that I see behind the bar, cleaning the wood and deciding w
hether he wants to put his slightly-criminal hat on, or his good guy hat.

  Neither of us say anything for a while, but then Kyle puts the cloth down and moves around the bar to me. He takes my hand, and he pulls me gently towards the back room. When we’re past the hallway and bathrooms, into the dark area filled with boxes of liquor and supplies, Kyle pulls me close and he kisses me hard and deep.

  His lips moves against mine like they were made for me alone, and no one else in the world. The connection is damp, warm, seamless. I shift gently against him, and I’m suddenly glad I’m wearing the crappy thin bra. I want him to feel what he does to me, how my body hardens at the very touch and promise of him. He stops too soon, leaving the heat of desire flooding through my body. And it is its own kind of power, strong and undeniable and somewhat wild.

  Kyle’s breathing heavier than normal, his chest rising and falling jerkily. “I shouldn’t need,” deep breath, “another man,” deep breath, “to keep you safe.” Shuddering, sobbing breath. It is my turn to pull him close, to comfort him. Because he’s more scared than I realized. More damaged.

  And more fucking beautiful than even dreams could make him.

  “You will protect me, Kyle. That’s the entire reason you are what you are. You won’t hurt me. We’re bound. You’re my anchor. The strong fast hold that keeps me from barreling into dark, dangerous waters. It’s magical, Berserker to Necromancer, but it’s also so much more than that. In my heart, it’s more than supernatural. It’s chemical, physical, emotional. I love you, Kyle. Me. The human component of whatever mixed-up shit I am. I love you.”

  Giant alligator tears dampen my hair, and his body shakes slightly. But he makes no sound now. I wonder if he is steeling himself—and if he is, will it be to leave me or to keep me.

  “I love you too, Tori,” he whispers huskily, his breath volcano-hot against my scalp. “God help me, I love you.”

  “Then don’t shut me out.”

  “Okay,” he agrees softly. “And… can you get Liam here.”

  I look up at him, and he’s smiling sheepishly, but his eyes are pulled taut with pain. “Are you okay?”

  “I thought I was.”

  And with that, my beautiful bear dropped to the floor and somehow avoided dragging me with him. And that told me he hadn’t completely let go of the idea that he needed to keep me safe, even at the expense of himself.

  “Kyle, you okay?” Crow’s voice was muffled by the closed storage door, but he pushed through shortly after. His customary ponytail is undone now, his silver-black hair racing wild around his shoulders. His gaze finds Kyle on the floor, flat on his back with his eyes closed. “Shit, I knew he wasn’t feeling as well as he acted.” He joins me on the floor, placing a hand on Kyle’s head. “Damn, he’s hot as hell.”

  My own hand touched Kyle’s flushed cheek, and I too found it way hotter than I expected. Hadn’t he been cold before? Wasn’t he shivering?

  Crow rocked back on his heels, and his face bore a new expression—one of… realization maybe? But he didn’t say anything. The wrinkles on his face simply deepened, his keen gray eyes grew stormy, and if I could read that particular language, of age lines and storm clouds, I might know what he was thinking.

  Before I can call Liam to me, he is knocking on the back door of the bar. I know it is him, because who else could it be? He is always there when I need him, even when I act like I don’t. When I open the door to him, seeing him in his human guise with chestnut hair and a casual tailored suit, I think of the first time I saw him. How that meeting had altered the course of my already-strange life.

  “Kyle’s sicker, Liam.”

  “I know. I worried my unskilled treatments would only bandage the wound. And it is a great one. This goes beyond the idle games of the court.” He’s standing outside, and he’s not tried to come in despite me standing off to the side.

  “What’s wrong?” I move back to him, trying to see around him. “Come in. He needs help.”

  “He needs more than I can give, Victoria.” He looks down, and then back at me. “If I go now, I might find the Light Court scouts in time. There are always ways for a fae to track a fae, unless they have shielded themselves as I have. The scouts are likely stalking the area, trying to find the Dark Court members who have been toying with your bear, and who knows what other supernatural beings.”

  “If they’re around, then why haven’t they healed Kyle already?”

  “They do not seek to cure the afflicted, only arrest the fae who have trespassed.”

  Anger boils up in me. “So what? They just leave whoever’s been marked to suffer?” I’m speaking too loudly now, and Crow might hear. Yet, I don’t care. Nothing matters if Kyle is dying.

  Liam nods. “It would take a very powerful Dark Court fae to harm a Berserker this much. Lesser fae magic would have simply made him ill for a few hours. Or lose control of his animal for a single shift. Whoever has done this, has truly poisoned Kyle.”

  That’s when it dawns on me, and I feel like the stupidest woman alive. I should have seen it, as soon as Liam told me it was a Dark Court mark.

  “Braeden did this. It has to be him. Who else would know about Kyle? And he’s powerful enough, isn’t he?” I seethe with rage.

  “That was one of my first suspicions, but I know the taste and feel of your half-brother’s magic, Victoria. It is not him.”

  “Then it’s someone who’s working with him. It’s the only explanation.” I look behind me and down at Kyle. Crow is still kneeling over him, but his eyes are also closed and he is murmuring something under his breath. Maybe a prayer… a useless gesture when the evil forces at play exempt themselves from a higher power.

  “Perhaps, but that is not important right now. I must find a healer, before he is past the point of aide.”

  “Past the point of aide?” A pit forms in my stomach. “What the hell do you mean?”

  “I mean, if I do not find help for your bear soon, Victoria, he will either die a human or shift and die a bear. Those will be his only options.” He leans forward and whispers gently against my ear. “I will save your bear, My Queen.”

  I want to stop him, to remind him that he is a fugitive and a traitor. That finding a Light Court scout might mean his reckoning. I make a choice though.

  To let him go.

  To love Kyle more.

  And I know he can hear my thoughts and I hate that I must hurt him, to save the man I truly love.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Can you help me move him to his office?” I stare at Crow, the man who is slight and small next to the man who is giant and lumberjack worthy.

  Crow simply nods and threads him arms beneath Kyle. I go to help, but before I can, he has lifted my beau into the air with a skilled, sweeping movement. He carries him towards the office door and I rush around him to open it. He makes quick work of carrying Kyle sideways into the room, and setting him down gently on the couch.

  He is stronger than he looks. Almost unbelievably so.

  “Should I open the bar or leave it closed for today.” He glances up at the cheap clock hanging above Kyle’s office door. Opening time is only an hour away.

  “Can the bar afford to lose a night’s income?” It’s dumb to focus on the bar’s finances, but it provides a short distraction from what’s happening. And, I’ve got money on the brain thanks to Dean’s urgings for me to be more practical.

  “We’ll survive.”

  “That’s not good enough,” I shake my head. “Go ahead and open. I’ll stay with him.”

  Crow’s gaze finds Kyle’s face, and for a moment I feel I see a flash of silver cross his stare like there is sterling metal caught in the iris of his eyes. I blink, and it is gone. There is something about him that I’ve never noticed. Something roiling beneath the surface of who he pretends to be. My father was never the ultra-wise one growing up; it was always my grandmother. Yet, right now, it is my father’s words that ring true in my head.

  People are se
lves within selves. Russian nesting dolls of truths, and lies, and the secrets that knot them together. Never trust a person that won’t present themselves in totality, with every personality, great and small, un-nested. They might be harmless on the surface, but wolves at their core.

  I didn’t realize I was staring at Crow, until he caught me. “Something wrong?” His voice held the promise of a growl. It sent shivers, like an electric fence, up my spine.

  “No, nothing’s wrong,” I say quickly.

  “All right then. I’ll go get ready to open. Let me know if he needs anything.” Crow walks away, and for the first time I’m struck by the way he moves—soundless, with almost a predatory undertone to the movements.

  Kyle trusts him.

  I’m not sure I do.

  My phone rings as I’m wetting a washcloth in the bathroom to put on Kyle’s forehead. With damp, fumbling fingers, I work the phone out of my jacket pocket and check the ID. It’s Terrance.

  “Hey, Terrance. Beginning to think you solved the supernatural arsonist big-bad hellmouth case without me.”

  “Wouldn’t that be nice,” Terrance’s sarcasm drips through the phone. “For the police force to be able to deal with every case like it’s an average, ordinary, human problem.”

  For a second, I’d forgotten I was a little at odds with Terrance. He’d drawn a line in the sand, as it were. Supernatural versus human. And unfortunately we fell on different sides of the war. I thought after the visit to the neighboring coroner’s office, we’d have pushed that particular issue to the side. Because we’re friends, and that trumps species for me. Obviously though, Terrance was still grappling with his feelings on the matter.

  “So what do you want?” I ask, not as nicely as I could have. “Kyle’s sick and I don’t feel like arguing over supernatural versus non- with you right now.”

  Terrance clears his throat, and for a moment I think he’s going to try to start a fight anyways, but instead he gets down to business. Little blessings. “You were right. Every other body had one of those Lazarus things in them.”