The Necromancer's Seduction

by Mimi Sebastian

  “Are you making accusations, Dominic?” Ewan’s voice sliced through the air.

  My power stirred within me, provoked by Ewan’s reaction to Dominic. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, pulling on it, letting it cut into the haze that had filled my mind since we arrived. The other vamps ceased their side conversations and looked on, their eyes gleaming in anticipation of the struggle between the vampire and demon. Ewan and Dominic stared at each other, assessing the other’s boundaries and power. Pissing match.

  “Of course I’m not making accusations. I’m just telling you what I hear,” Dominic said. The other vamps returned to their sanguine pleasures, deciding the fireworks had fizzed out for now.

  I clutched the chair next to me when the floor veered slightly. Ewan reached out to me, and I saw him clearly for the first time since coming up here. I sat on the chair. The waitress returned with my drink, and I took a sip, the taste evoking brief thoughts of Lysander. I peeked up at Dominic, and he appeared sharp and in focus, no longer blurred by the fascination of his thrall.

  Dominic’s expression tightened when he perceived he’d lost control over me. He dropped the pretenses. “How did you raise Brandon?”

  “That’s not an experience I wish to relive, and I don’t appreciate you doing vampire juju on me.” My voice sounded a little too shrill, and I dug my nails into my palms to release my ire, not wanting to act like the overwrought necromancer woman in front of the icy vampire.

  “Yes, I’m curious. How did you emerge from my thrall?”

  “Dominic, what’s the point of all this?” Ewan asked.

  Dominic stood and faced Ewan, his mouth a hard line. “For the first time I can remember, a necromancer not only created a supernatural revenant, but two. You don’t think that would attract the attention of the supernatural community? You don’t think we would take an interest in a possible threat to us?”

  “You have no proof the demons are behind Cael,” said Ewan. “Until you do, I’d advise you to stay out of our business.” That was as close to a threat as I’d ever heard from Ewan. He face was calm, but his voice pure steel.

  “For now.” Dominic’s eyes gleamed.

  Ewan’s hands circled my arm, and we made our way back to the elevator and out of the club.

  “If I knew Dominic was going to pull that shit, I wouldn’t have taken you up there. Fuck the protocol,” Ewan said in a savage murmur. We stood on the street next to his car.

  “How did you know my power would drive out Dominic’s thrall?”

  “Educated guess. If you can make and control supernatural revenants, what’s to stop you from controlling a dead supernatural?”

  “Can he thrall you?”

  “No. Only supes in this realm. He has no power over demons.”

  “Bet he doesn’t like that much.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “So why do you think he put me in thrall?”

  “To test his power over you.” He ran his hand through his hair. “And now he knows you’re strong enough to thwart him.”

  Could I control a vampire? I bit my lip. Everyone thinks the vampires and demons are the untouchables. But if a necromancer could control a vampire? “All I did was break his control over me.”

  “You control the undead, and you beat Dominic at his game. The way he sees it, you’re a threat to him, to all vampires. It’s only a matter of time before he decides to take matters into his own hands.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Sorry about the soap opera at the beach Thursday,” Adam said, stretched out on the lawn chair on the roof of his former apartment.

  “You don’t have to apologize,” I said from the other chair. “Especially when I feel I should be the one to apologize.”

  He waved to the garden where Kara and I had found his body. “So this is where you found me, among the rosemary. I hate rosemary.”

  “I kind of have some bad connections to rosemary myself these days.” My lips curled.

  I reveled in the balmy sky, a sky I could almost touch if I stretched high enough. Sounds from the street fizzed out in the thick air before reaching the roof, creating a hypnotizing hum around us, making my eyelids droop. A perfect, lazy Saturday afternoon.

  “Too bad our excursion didn’t bring up any more memories of my murder,” Adam said.

  “I appreciate you trying. I’m anxious to find Cael.”

  “I’ve been feeling anxious myself. How long are revenants supposed to stay reanimated?”

  It was a question I’ve avoided, and given his recent behavior, I’m sure Adam had surpassed the recommended time for revenant reanimation. He was feeding on my power through the bond in addition to the blood. I was no longer as repulsed by the idea of giving him blood, knowing it kept him sane, but I’d never intended to keep Adam animated for more than a couple of days. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep this up, especially with Brandon in the mix.

  “Every time the hunger hits me, I feel myself becoming more and more animalistic,” he confessed, “like that logical part of the brain that tells you killing is bad is losing the battle. Worse is, I’m not sure I care. I’m tired of fighting it.” His expression, one I couldn’t quite decipher, clung to me. Pain, a plea, fear?

  “I’ll help you work through it,” I said. He didn’t respond, and I’d just lain back in the chair and closed my eyes when a loud hiss, followed by the sound of Adam’s chair tumbling over, jerked me upright. Adam scrambled in a flurry of limbs to move away from the salamander-like creature angling towards him. Myyr. It hovered close to him, its fangs dripping a milky liquid. Another unpleasant demon toxin, no doubt.

  “What the!” Adam bellowed.

  I stood. The creature’s slit eyes were focused on Adam.

  “Uh, good boy?” I asked. “Heel?” How the hell do I talk to this thing? “Adam, move to the other side of the roof. I don’t think he’ll hurt you.”

  “Says you.” Adam took careful steps, crouching away, almost as if he were riding a surfboard. Then Myyr widened its mouth, emitting another hiss.

  I pulled out my cell and called Ewan while, appeased by Adam’s retreat, the creature curled up on his chair, licking the venom that had dripped on its chin, smacking in satisfaction.

  “You going to explain?” Adam’s voice came from behind me.

  Explain to a witch revenant the presence of a zombie demon creature? I giggled, clinging to the absurd humor of it all, lest the despair bury me.

  “So glad you’re amused at my expense. I on the—”

  I held up my palm. “Stop. You’re going to upset him.” Probably not, but I didn’t want to hear an Adam rant at the moment. He immediately shut up and sat on the roof’s ledge. Maybe I should keep Myyr around.

  The demon perched his head on the back edge of the chair and bobbed his head between Adam and me, almost like a kid at the zoo staring at an animal exhibit. Myyr veered his head when the door to the roof opened, and Ewan emerged. The creature shot up, its amphibious body swelling and vibrating like a hose newly infused with water from a spigot.

  Ewan wore an amused expression as he watched Myyr slink around the rooftop, hiss at Adam, then settle back on the chair in a curl.

  “Can you explain?” I asked him.

  The amusement left his face, leaving his jaw slightly askew. “When we left him in the demon realm, I told him to contact us about any activity at the portal.”

  “You told him to come here?”

  “No. He decided that on his own. I’ll have to give him more specific instructions for the next time.”

  Ewan stepped closer to Myyr and spoke to it in the demon tongue. It responded in a combination of hisses and clicks. At each hiss, Ewan’s frown grew more pronounced. Myyr smacked his lips a few times, then curled up again.

  Ewan faced me, rubbing at his eyebrows, loosening the frown. “Myyr stopped another assassin from breaching the portal, like the Frerac.”

  “Cool that he stopped the—wait—assassin?” Fear
creeped up my spine. Adam left his spot on the roof’s edge to stand next to me as I asked, “Did he happen to find out the intended target?”

  Ewan nodded. “Cael.”

  The ring of my cell phone dampened the shock that crackled the air around us. I stepped away to take the call.

  “I have to go,” I told them after finishing the call.

  Myyr mewled, and I reached over and patted his head, eliciting a noise from his mouth that resembled a purr.

  “My mom’s ex-boyfriend, police detective Greg, found a mutilated body and wants me to check it out,” I said. Ewan had met Greg, and I didn’t need to elaborate. I figured I’d explain the Greg deal to Adam en route. “Adam, you should come with me. Maybe you’ll pick something up at the scene.”

  “Should I come?” Ewan asked instead of insisting.

  “I don’t want to freak Greg out by bringing the supe brigade. Thanks for asking, though.” I cocked my head and smiled, my message clear—I get it, thanks. I knew he wanted to come, but he’d suppressed his protective urge, and I appreciated him even more.

  He studied me for a moment, and I half expected him to make some monumental declaration, but instead he said, “Let me know what you find. I’ll make sure Myyr finds his way back to the realm.”

  I smiled, more at my sentimental notions and nodded.

  Myyr, however, was not impressed and hissed his disapproval. Ewan responded with gruff words in the demon tongue, and Myyr returned his head to the chair back and flicked his tongue at him.

  “Can I borrow your car?” I asked Ewan. Greg wanted me to arrive quickly, before he reported the body, and public transportation was not going to do the trick.

  He tossed me the keys. “Bring her back in one piece,” he said with a wink.

  I gave him one last glance over my shoulder before leaving the rooftop with Adam and heading for the Land Rover.

  I only drove when I wanted to escape the city and took long, leisurely drives along the winding coastal roads with my music turned up full blast. I wished now my destination was some state park beach instead of an alley where a dead body waited.

  * * * *

  The second my brain registered the sight in front of me, I whirled around and forced down the vomit rising in my throat.

  “Sorry. I should have warned you. I guess I thought you’d be used to seeing—” Greg paused. “—uh, anyway, are you okay?”

  Greg patted my back as I tried to settle my quivering stomach. I didn’t need to look at the mangled body again to know what had attacked the man. One quick glance at Adam’s face from my hunched over position told me he had the same theory.

  I straightened and scanned the alley where Greg had found the body while investigating another homicide in one of the sleazier blocks of the Tenderloin. Greg’s voice had been urgent when he’d called and asked me to meet him at the scene before he called it in.

  “What do you think? Is this related to supernatural stuff?” Greg asked. He kept his eyes fixed on the body and a hand on the butt of his gun. I opened my mouth, ready to utter the lie necessary to maintain Greg’s sense of control over his world. I closed my mouth. Didn’t he have a right to know, to defend himself?

  Who am I kidding? Greg couldn’t defend himself from a zombie any more than this poor homeless man.

  I shook my head. “Animal attack?” My tone was not convincing.

  “You aware of an animal in San Francisco that could tear someone up like that?” He lowered his head to look into my downcast eyes. “You’re not telling me the truth.”

  I shrugged.

  He slapped his hand on his thigh and straightened. “Shit. Don’t make me take you in for questioning.”

  “And what would you write on the report?” The irritated flicker of his eyes told me I’d struck a police procedure sore note. I knew Greg wouldn’t make our conversation or my take on this murder official. His threat was empty, but the police threat wasn’t. I had to locate Cael—fast—before more bodies began turning up in dark corners of the city, bringing the police and official inquiries into the realm of supe dirty business.

  His pager buzzed. “Don’t touch anything while I call the station.” He peeked around me to eye Adam standing over the corpse. “You too.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Because we want to touch a bloody corpse?”

  He strode to his unmarked police issue Crown Vic parked just outside the alley.

  I turned to see Adam’s eyes locked onto the dead body. His hunger gnawed at my insides, making my stomach shrivel. Before I could stop him, he reached down and wet his fingers with the blood marring the man’s neck, then pressed the fingers to his lips. Apparently, Adam had wanted to touch the bloody corpse. I chanced a glance at Greg, relieved to see his back to us as he talked on the radio.

  “Adam?” My pulse raced. What if I lost him right here? I sought my power, felt it brimming inside me, a small ripple in my subconscious. I stepped closer to him. Ice hit my core through the bond, and I winced from the pain. He thrust a bloody palm at me.

  “Keep it together. A little while longer, okay?” I pleaded.

  He stepped closer, palm still thrust towards my face. Blood stained his lips. “I want to finish the job the zombies started.” His eyes shone, feverish in their intensity. “Drinking blood is not enough. I want to tear through flesh, like the zombie tore through that man.” He groaned and fell to his knees.

  Greg approached us, taking one look at Adam hunched over. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “Um, I think he ate something that made him sick.” I cringed. Stupid. Stupid.

  “Let me help him.” Greg moved towards Adam.

  “No.” I jumped in between Adam and Greg’s outstretched hands.

  Greg stepped back, suspicion etched on his features. “Ruby, I hope you guys aren’t doing drugs.”

  The laugh I tried to hold back came out as a yelp. I’d take drugs over this madness any day. Greg’s eyes narrowed even more.

  “Seriously. He’s sick. Let me take him home. He’ll be fine. Sorry I wasn’t able to help you.”

  I pulled Adam up, careful to make sure Greg couldn’t see his bloody hands and face, and ushered him to Ewan’s SUV. By the time I belted myself in and drew in a large, slow breath, Adam’s face had lost the pained creases from before. He looked almost relaxed.

  He met my stare and smiled, a ghastly grin. A perfect Jack Nicholson Shining interpretation . . . after he’d gone nuts. A shiver vibrated my spine. I hit the gas pedal, and the SUV lurched off the curb. I exceeded the speed limit several times, anxious to drop him at the demon lair before that taste of blood compelled him to seek more . . . from me.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I delivered the car and Adam, making my escape without encountering Ewan. The torn up body and Adam’s reaction had left me in a depressed funk, and I just wanted to recuperate at home. I could cope with the gore when it happened to us—the supernaturals. We were equipped to deal with the nastiness, fight back, but when the violence touched humans, the bloody nature of our lives became more real somehow.

  At my stop, I hopped off the bus and walked the remaining block to my house. The sky was tinged with a burned crimson, the colors of dusk that suspended time in the space between night and day. I never liked the in between times. Cora told me they were moments of transition, the time between sleep and wakefulness or life and death, an uncertain time that seemed to unlock a door, inviting in the strange and unusual.

  I glimpsed the sidewalk behind me, then hurried up the steps to my door. A gust of wind blew, whipping strands of hair against my cheeks, pushing against my back, urging me forward. After fumbling with the lock, I stepped into my house and bolted the door. I squeezed my hands together. This is silly.

  Then, without warning, cold hands clutched the back of my neck and shoved me against the wall, lifting me until my feet dangled in the air. I sputtered and wheezed against the vice around my neck. My heart pounded out a rhythm of hysteria.

  My atta
cker turned me around. Frigid eyes stared into mine, alive but not alive.

  A vampire.

  “Don’t know why Dominic’s so worried about you. This is too easy.” He released my neck. I had a split second to gulp air into my lungs before he captured my hands behind my back, forcing my body against his. His pupils dilated as he fixed on my neck. He bent his head, rasped his fangs along my skin, right above my throbbing jugular.

  Well, this was supposed to feel good, right?

  I screamed at the icy hot pain that sizzled my nerve endings when he pierced my skin and sucked. Tears ran down my cheeks, matching the blood that dripped down my back and chest. My stomach heaved. I hated the coppery smell of blood. My body weakened, my muscles went limp. I’d survived demon portals, rotting zombies, and crazy necromancers only to fall prey to a thirsty vampire. Not cool.

  Suddenly, the vampire withdrew his fangs in a slick pinch and stepped back. The pain fizzed out, leaving the feel of my power thrumming inside me. I slumped to my knees, barely able to contain the tremors that racked my body. Blood dripped from my neck to the floor. I touched the bite wound, my fingers quivering at the feel of sticky, torn flesh. The vampire remained motionless, his eyes on me, waiting. Holy shit. I’d just made my first zombie vampire.

  “Fix my neck,” I told him.

  He bent down and slurped my wound. The wet rasp of his tongue made my skin crawl. When he finished, I ran my finger over the now smooth skin. The vamp returned to his soldier’s ten-hut. He was mine to do with as I wanted. Could I get used to this? A slippery slope for sure. I noticed a small sliver of fang poking through his lips.

  No. I didn’t want to add vampires to my undead repertoire, but Dominic didn’t need to know that.

  * * * *

  Lysander faced me in my front room. He looked more like a biker today, wearing blue workman pants and heavy boots. I averted my eyes from the muscles molding his Come to the Dark Side, We Have Cookies T-shirt.

  He slanted his brows. “Someone bit you.” Anger vibrated his voice, turning it deeper. “What happened?”

  I called the vampire who attacked me.