The Necromancer's Seduction

by Mimi Sebastian

  “I thought I sensed a temporal disturbance, like when a demon teleports. Generally, it leaves a residue in the atmosphere, but I didn’t detect anything. I must have been wrong.” He shook his head, as if not quite convinced.

  “Well, we can’t worry about that now, we need to get the hell to Matilda’s.”

  We jumped back into the car, our clothes releasing sprays of sand on the seats and floor. Ewan peeled back onto the road, his adrenaline fueling the car as much as the gas. My heart continued to thump.

  * * * *

  I found Kara in the back room of Matilda’s cottage, seated the floor, knees up, her back against a sliding glass door that opened to the bay. When she hung up her cell, I crouched next to her.

  “Matilda’s dead. Revenant Brandon took her.” Her lips trembled, and the lines in her face cracked then hardened as she applied more protective plaster.

  She finally faced me. “Don’t give me that you-can-cry-on-my-shoulder look.”

  “I’m empathizing. I know that’s an unknown concept for you.”

  “I don’t need the psychological dissection.”

  I smiled quickly to keep from glaring. “Then what do you need?”

  “You’re dissecting.”

  I clenched my hands while I considered wrapping them around her throat.

  “They came at us, out of the darkness,” she said. “I barely had time to cast a spell to protect myself.”

  She’d propped her elbows on her knees, fingers intertwined, creating a pendulum that she swung back and forth, knocking her thumb knuckles against her forehead, back and forth. The cold from her consciousness soaked into my bones, the same frigid air I’d felt before, blasted out of some dark place within her. I rubbed my arms.

  “Kara?” She was freaking me out with the forehead whacking, like the crazy people in the psych ward movies who slap themselves in the head repeatedly. She halted her hands, thankfully, because I was ready to grab them to stop the incessant swinging. Kara looked up as if returning from a long voyage to Nutsville.

  “You know I understand what it’s like to lose someone important. I’m not giving you the Hallmark condolences here,” I said.

  She still didn’t answer me. Ewan stood on the deck just outside the sliding glass door and talked on his cell.

  “How’s the coven going to handle this?” I asked.

  “Not gonna be good for you.” The pendulum resumed its swing.

  “Because the demons killed Matilda?”

  “The coven trusted Malthus to fix this. We’ve lost two witches.”

  “I lost two mothers.” My mother gave birth to me, and sometimes played the best friend mom, but Cora was the one who’d wiped my runny nose and patted my back until I fell asleep.

  Kara stood in one swift movement and surveyed the living space. She looked at me, and her eyes understood, accepted my sorrow at Matilda’s death. Kara rarely broadcasted her sorrow with tears or emotional outbursts. I’m not sure why, but she either censured them with a joke or sarcasm or, like now, conveyed them without words. At Cora’s funeral, I’d read the anguish in her eyes and in the droop of her shoulders. She’d loved Cora too.

  Ewan returned from outside and directed his authority at Kara. “I’m going to take you to the coven.”

  “You need to find Cael,” Kara said to me. “You and Adam need to stop playing house, figure out who’s responsible, and return Adam to the dead. The longer he stays reanimated, the more turmoil it creates in the coven. It’s getting harder for me to influence the circle when some blame Matilda and me for this mess.”

  “So now it’s me instead of we?” I asked, trepidation in my voice. Her statement made me feel even more isolated. She’d officially removed herself from our Scooby club, Ewan had lied to me, and all I had left was a revenant witch that would eventually try to eat me.

  * * * *

  Ewan and I sat in the Rover outside my house, the hum of the motor failing to diffuse the tension still poisoning the air between us. How did things get so screwed up? We’d measured out our intimacy and understanding, confusion and distrust, milliliter by milliliter in uneven proportions until the mix had turned toxic. I missed the feel of his body, his touch, but I feared my reaction to him more. People around us were dying. I needed to get over my reservations.

  I ran my hand down his arm, enjoying the feel of his muscles clenching.

  “Ruby,” he said, his voice a ragged whisper. “I’m sorry about everything.”

  “Yeah, can you explain all of it, because I’m confused.”

  “Me too.”

  He leaned his forehead against the steering wheel. I pulled my hand away, my courage dissipating. I reached for the door handle and clicked the door open. Ewan reached past me and slammed the door shut. He gathered me in his arms and crushed his lips to mine, plundering them in hot, angry need, wedging my back between the door and the seat with the force of his body. He kissed down my throat to my chest, squeezing my breast up where he could access the throbbing mound with his mouth.

  I don’t remember how we got from the car to the house. I barely opened and shut the door before I was against the wall in a flurry of hands, mouths, teeth, legs. He caught me between the wall and his chest, two hard surfaces, but only one scorched my body on contact. I struggled with the buttons on his shirt, until frustrated, I tore the shirt open, sending the buttons clattering to the floor. His chest shimmered in alternating shades of gold, matching the pulsing threads in his eyes, now staring at me with lustful intent.

  He shoved my skirt until it was crumpled around my waist while I fumbled with his belt and pants to free his rigid erection. I had one brief moment to cup his shaft before he groaned and ripped my panties off and tossed them to the floor. My legs shook with impatience. Without preamble, he grabbed my ass, lifted, and thrust inside me. My moan reverberated off the walls and wood floors. I clamped my legs around his waist. He plunged into me over and over, seeking to drive out our frustration, enlisting our passion to refract the negative emotions of the past few days.

  He drove into me harder. I clenched his shoulders and dug my fingers into his skin as he stretched me with his assault. My nerves felt plugged into an amplifier, electrified, crackling. He reached a hand between our bodies, and finding my clit, rubbed the hardened nub. I cried out in release. He came with me, and I felt his muscles shudder under my palms. My orgasm continued to pulse and ripple in multiple waves.

  He rested his head on the wall, and I smiled at the image he presented, his shirt hanging off his back, held by the sleeves around his arms, and his pants hugging his ankles. Still holding me to him, he shed his shoes, kicked his pants away, and walked into the front room, his cock still hard and throbbing inside me. I’d learned the first time we made love that demons had ridiculous metabolisms, making them insatiable and vainglorious about their stamina.

  His smile was smug when he stopped in front of the fireplace, and I thought of a way to possibly humble him. I dropped my legs from his waist, withdrawing from him. He emitted an irritated grunt, and I only smiled as I kneeled in front of him and ran my hand up and down the length of his glistening cock, following each stroke with my tongue. He gripped my head and weaved his fingers through my hair. A low rumble emanated from his chest, and I quickened my strokes while squeezing his sac, enjoying the spicy scent of his arousal, the sound of his groans. I let my smug satisfaction roll out in a small laugh.

  He took it as a challenge.

  He grabbed my arms, hauled me up, and yanked off my shirt. He smiled at the sight of my black lace bra and ran a finger along the tops of the cups before reaching around to unhook the clasp and slip the straps off my shoulders. He bent his head to take my right nipple in his mouth while rubbing the left between two fingers, stealing my breath and sending electric pulses from my breasts to enflame my core. Unlike the frenzy in the hallway, he took his time sucking and kneading my breasts until I wanted to weep with need. “Ewan, please.”

  He lifted his head a
nd skimmed his gaze over my body, his look full of demon arrogance. I’d lost the smug battle, but no longer cared, only wanted him to possess me. He shed his shirt, lowered me to the rug, and slanted over me, his skin almost incandescent, matching the blaze of his eyes. He looked every bit the demon, and I trembled.

  He spread my knees and grazed the insides of my thighs with his hands, each time reaching closer and closer to my pulsing heat, then moving away in a relentless tease. The next time his fingers came within a touch of my clit, I pushed up against them, and he laughed, bent over, and took my soaking folds in his mouth, moving his tongue over my swollen clit, in and out of my moist recesses. My legs shuddered, but he braced my thighs with his arms, spreading me even more to him. He slipped three fingers inside me, pressed on my spot, kneading, moving his fingers in and out. He drove me to the edge and back again, each time holding back, keeping me from the release I sought. My body ached with need. He slid his drenched fingers out of me, and I whimpered in protest.

  “You’re so wet, dripping.” I didn’t recognize his voice, turned deep and hoarse. “Open your eyes,” he rasped. “Look at me.”

  I slit my eyelids, and for a brief moment, saw his soul shining through his eyes before he seized my waist, arched me up, and shoved into me forcefully. His power reached deep inside, rearranging my molecules, expanding and stretching my nerves. He increased his rhythm, driving me harder and harder, his rumbling growing louder and louder. My core burned, my muscles clenched his, tightening, waiting to snap. He lowered and claimed my mouth in a hot, insistent kiss then moved to nip my right nipple. I screamed and surrendered my release, my body bucking and sliding and grinding against him. Ewan’s coarse shout signaled his final thrust, bringing us both to a climax that had me spinning, screaming to his roar.

  He remained straddled over me, his arms on either side of my body. His gaze held mine, seeking their depths until he finally pulled out of me. He kissed me gently on the lips, then scooped me up and carried me upstairs to the bathroom where he ran hot water in my clawfoot tub.

  Cora had a separate shower installed when we modernized the bathroom, but we’d kept the tub tucked in a cozy corner where I spent many evenings listening to music or reading. I lit the candles mounted on wood pillars, standing along one side of the tub.

  Ewan slipped into the water and gathered me on top of him, and I luxuriated in the feel of his hard chest and the hot water. His cock had hardened again and poked my ass. I laughed. My smile was consumed by a quick intake of breath when he slid his hand over my breasts, rubbing his palm over each nipple, then lowered to skim my belly, and down to my throbbing pussy. He sucked and nipped my neck and earlobe while massaging my slick folds until I pulled his hand away and, with my back still turned to him, positioned myself over his cock. I heard his rumble of pleasure as I guided his hard sheath into me, and with hands on the rim of the tub, I moved up and down, twisting my hips, driving him deeper.

  He clasped his hands on my waist and arched his hips up. I pumped harder and faster, sloshing water out of the tub. My muscles squeezed his cock, and I slammed into him and held my breath until finally I cried out in time to his own shout.

  After a few moments, I moved off him, turned, and met his eyes. Our sex tonight had exploded in a frantic need to drive out our frustration, then calmed to a soothing pace in the front room. But now both of us wore serious expressions, as if this third time had signaled a last ditch effort to hold onto something, and I knew we’d failed. I opened the faucet and let more hot water drip into the tub. I nestled against his chest, but even his warmth failed to ease my troubled mind.

  Chapter Twenty

  The next morning, I wandered toward the small coffee shop on campus, the crappy lecture I’d delivered moments ago still giving me heartburn.

  I kicked a small branch lying on the sidewalk. After last night, everything had taken on a surreal quality. I was on sidewalks I’d walked countless times, but they seemed strange, crowded by untrimmed bushes and weeds poking from the cracks.

  I’d asked Steve to meet me at the café. I had to break things off with him. It wasn’t right to him or Ewan to screw both of them at the same time—not that I had. I ran my hand through my hair and crossed the street.

  I rubbed my palms and inhaled the warmth and aroma of fresh brew once inside the crowded café. I found a small table wedged next to the window where I read through research notes while I waited for Steve.

  “Hey, pretty lady.” I watched Steve take the seat across from me. “Lecture notes?”

  “Research for a paper that I’m not sure I’ll ever finish.” I groaned. Steve’s hair flopped at an endearing angle, more boyish than I’d seen him, making my task all the harder.

  He propped his elbows on the table and leaned toward me. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t call me here to discuss your research paper.”

  “No.” I smiled slightly. I’d rehearsed this conversation multiple times on the walk here, yet every word, every line, escaped me, and I could only stare at the table.

  “I know that look.”

  “What look is that?” I lifted my gaze to him.

  “The breaking-up-with-you look.”

  I didn’t respond.

  “Except we don’t really have much of a relationship, so breaking up doesn’t exactly fit our situation, does it?”

  “I guess not. That’s why I’m having a hard time figuring out what to say. It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you or that I don’t enjoy your company.”

  He reached out and rubbed a stray strand of my hair between his fingers. “You’ve met someone that you actually like.”

  “I like you.”

  “Let me rephrase. Someone who rocks your boat.” He let go of my hair and leaned back in his chair. “Why is it that you only realize how much something means when you’re about to lose it?”

  My chest heaved at his earnest expression, tinged with regret. Steve would have never worked out. We would have continued to see each other when it was convenient, comfortable, with no real reason to explode in passion.

  “No use dragging this out into some uncomfortable scene with yelling and hurtful accusations.” He smiled, but his eyelids were stiff.

  “No yelling,” I said.

  He took my hand. “I hope he understands you better than I ever did.” He stood and kissed my cheek, leaving me to slowly sip down the rest of my coffee, research notes, as always, forgotten. I watched him walk toward the exit, and a sudden impulse to chase after him gripped me, but I stayed rooted in place and watched the last vestiges of my old life walk out the door.

  * * * *

  Ewan called and asked me to meet him at his place, which made me realize he’d seen my house from its most intimate angles, but I had yet to see how the demon lived.

  Once there, I admired an old samurai helmet mounted below a Japanese katana on the wall, the same sword he’d used to kill the Frerac. His loft was big, but simply decorated with interesting modern artwork mixed in with some cool antiques. I heard his footsteps behind me and twisted around to see him coming down the stairs, shirtless. I stared at the muscles rippling up and down his chest and arms, imagining him wielding the delicate steel of the katana.

  “Where’d you get this?” I fingered the sword.

  “Would you believe me if I told you from an actual samurai?”

  “Would you believe me if I told you I can bring the dead back to life?”

  He laughed and crushed me to him, giving me a probing kiss. I surrendered to the hot insistence of his lips. The anxieties and anxiousness I’d battled all day melted away with the feel of his body against mine. I breathed his musky scent in deep, returning his kiss with equal intensity. When he ended it, I leaned into him, enjoying the feel of his body for a few more moments.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I am now.” I took a deep, satisfied breath.

  He smiled against my hair, then drew back and looked at me. Maybe I should pinch myself to
make sure this man—demon, whatever—was mine. My desire must have shown, because his eyes turned smoky. “If you keep looking at me like that, we may never leave this room.”

  “That would be a problem because?”

  “Because we have big plans for tonight.”

  “We do?”

  “We’re going to a night club.”

  I squinted at him. “Somehow I suspect you have ulterior motives, and this is not a simple date.”

  “You are perceptive, but then I already knew that.” He walked over to the couch and picked up a long-sleeved black silk shirt that he threw on, leaving it unbuttoned.

  “I like when you look at me.” He approached me and rubbed my cheek with his thumb. “But I like looking at you more.”

  The muscles in my cheeks quivered. How was I ever going to maintain any sense of sanity around him?

  He kissed me, licking at my lips and caressing my tongue. After a few moments, he pulled away with a small groan and fell onto the couch. “Have you met a vampire before?”

  “Before my mom died, she dated a vampire for a short time. I met him once. He was intense, but sexy,” I added, enjoying the irritation that flashed in his eyes. I meandered around his living area, running my hand over tables, trying to find clues, pictures, anything to help me understand what passions drove this demon.

  “We’re going to a vampire club tonight. The vampires will be interested in you.” He paused. “Interested in biting you.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “The minute you step into that club, they’ll assume you’re a free donor. It’s important they think you’re with me. Are you okay with that?”

  “Depends. Am I with you?”

  He lifted off the couch and sauntered towards me. I leaned away from him, an involuntary reaction to the predatory look in his eyes. He lifted me in his arms, carried me upstairs, and tossed me onto his bed. I suddenly felt playful and turned on my hands and knees to skitter off the other side. He clasped one of my ankles, pulled me back to him and flipped me around, trapping me with his body.