The door slammed.
Gabriel dragged a hand over his face.
* * *
The emperor was in the receiving room when Ezekiel burst into the mansion. He was angry, and he wasn’t sure at exactly whom. He knew that he blamed Gabriel for tempting him, but he also blamed himself for being tempted. He was very disappointed in himself, but he was also confused. He’d never been so consumed with attraction for someone else. It was almost as if he lost control of himself. He tried so hard to keep away from Gabriel, but when they were close, it was impossible not to touch him.
Ezekiel hated himself for it. He was consumed with self-hatred when he demanded that the servant at the door of the mansion take him into the receiving room for an audience with the emperor.
The servant announced him, and then Ezekiel tore inside. He stalked down to the throne and knelt quickly.
When he raised up, he saw the emperor was looking at him with shock on his face.
“Your Eminence,” said Ezekiel, but his voice was tight with anger and frustration.
“Ezekiel of Caroly,” said the emperor. “I would have thought that you’d be on your way back home by now. Your business here is quite concluded, is it not?”
“Not quite, Your Eminence.” Ezekiel scolded himself for sounding so sharp, but he couldn’t modify his tone. “You see, I must know what happened that night when my sister died. I must know how it happened. I cannot return to my father if I do not know.”
The emperor narrowed his eyes. “When you and I spoke earlier, I thought we had an understanding.”
“There are things I don’t understand, Your Eminence. They eat at me.”
“Well, there are many things that are not understandable, boy. You must learn to accept that. It is the way of the world. Acceptance is transcendence, after all.”
“I think this can be understood,” said Ezekiel. “If you explained it to me, that is.”
The emperor’s jaw twitched. “I have neither the time nor the inclination, I’m afraid.” He motioned with one hand at the servant to escort Ezekiel out.
Ezekiel held up his hand. “If you don’t explain, sir, my tongue might become very loose.” He looked out at the other people in the receiving room, making his threat clear. The emperor had told him to keep his mouth shut, and that meant he had power over the emperor. Still, his stomach turned over. The emperor could easily have him killed.
The emperor’s lips pressed into a firm line.
“I’m sorry, Your Eminence,” said Ezekiel, “but my sister was very important to me.”
“I see,” said the emperor. “This is hardly the time or the place to discuss such things, is it? I will give you a private audience in my study in one hour’s time.”
Ezekiel’s stomach dropped. It had worked! He fell to his knees again. “Thank you, Your Eminence. Thank you so much.”
The emperor only glared at him.
After an hour had passed, a servant escorted Ezekiel to the emperor’s study. He had to wait outside for another ten minutes or so, but eventually, the door opened and the emperor received him inside.
The room was ornate and plush. The emperor’s desk was as big as a family-sized table and it was made of fine, polished wood. The front of the desk had been carved with ornate decorative turns and swirls.
The emperor sat up straight behind the desk, both hands resting in front of him. His face was drawn and serious.
Now, he’s going to order my death, thought Ezekiel. It’ll be easier here without witnesses. Those in the receiving room might not have taken easily to the idea of killing the son of a regent, but now no one would know what had happened to him.
But the emperor didn’t say anything. He gestured for Ezekiel to have a seat in front of his desk. Ezekiel did. The servant pulled the door shut, leaving the two of them alone.
The emperor spoke. “You’re very tenacious, aren’t you, boy? You go after what you want.”
Ezekiel inclined his head. “When it comes to family, sir, I have to admit that I’m not easily deterred.”
“And you’re either very brave or very stupid, threatening to tell tales when I warned you not to.”
“I apologize, Your Eminence.”
The emperor raised his eyebrows. “Do you.” It wasn’t a question.
Ezekiel lowered his head.
“It’s all right, boy,” said the emperor. “In truth, you impress me. I wish that my own son Gabriel had half the gumption that you do. That boy doesn’t care about anything except cavorting around and embarrassing me.”
Ezekiel raised his gaze. “Oh, sir, Gabriel is—”
“No, no,” said the emperor. “I know that he has spent some time with you. I know he can appear to be quite amiable, but you must realize that there’s nothing beneath that. He’s got no substance, that boy.”
Ezekiel wasn’t sure what to say. He thought the emperor wasn’t being fair to Gabriel, who seemed to be quite full of substance. He’d been helping Ezekiel all along with finding out about Honor, and he didn’t need to do that. Not only that, Gabriel had married someone he didn’t even care for just to please his father. And that Leah woman was most unpleasant. What was more, Ezekiel was fairly sure she was hiding something, but he couldn’t be sure, of course. At any rate, he decided it was best not to argue with the emperor, not when he’d already done so much to anger the man.
“But that’s not why you’re here, is it?” said the emperor. “You’re here about your sister.”
Ezekiel nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The emperor furrowed his brow. “You weren’t a bit put out that Gabriel got married again so quickly? You seem ready to defend him, but I would think that you’d be angry.”
Ezekiel cringed. This was it. The emperor was going to figure out that he was a faggot, and then tell his father, and then his father would disown him for shaming him in front of the entire empire.
The emperor waited expectantly.
Ezekiel cleared his throat. “You misunderstand me, Your Eminence. I have no great affection for your son, Gabriel, but it would seem to rude to admit that to you.”
The emperor chuckled. “I see. So, you can tell what a cad he is as well. Don’t worry, boy, I won’t hold that against you.”
Ezekiel lowered his head again. He felt guilty, as if he’d betrayed Gabriel. I don’t owe him anything, he reminded himself. He’s practically the devil, tempting me to do things I’d rather not do.
“Well, let’s get on with it, then,” said the emperor. “I suppose you think it’s rather strange that I’ve got a horde of revenants in the dungeon, and you must be wondering how it was that your sister got tangled up with them.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well,” said the emperor, “there weren’t quite so many of the revenants that night. I only had a few, maybe ten, and I kept them here for… well, for study, if you must know. A strange thing to study, and perhaps a sinful thing to do as well. After all, the holy men tell us that we should accept our lot, not seek to change it. But I kept hoping that I might be able to find out something about the revenants by studying them. Some weakness that we’ve overlooked all these years, or some use for them we might not have thought of.”
He’s lying, thought Ezekiel. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he did. There had been a slight change in the emperor’s tone, and he wasn’t looking Ezekiel in the eye. The emperor had been keeping the revenants for another reason, but he didn’t want to reveal it. Ezekiel wasn’t about to challenge him again. He simply stored this knowledge away for later consideration.
“But after that night,” said the emperor, “their ranks swelled a bit, because they had bitten and infected some of the servants. And, of course, your sister, which was most unfortunate.”
Most unfortunate. Well, that’s one way of putting it. But Ezekiel kept his expression blank. “Unfortunate indeed, sir. But how did the revenants get free in the first place?”
“I let them out.”
Ezekiel’s eyebrows shot up.
/> “Not to loose them on the servants, I assure you,” said the emperor. “I was trying to catch the escaped prisoners.”
“Prisoners?”
“Oh, yes, there were prisoners that escaped the dungeon that night,” continued the emperor, “and I had them in my sights. But there were no guards around, and I assumed that your sister and all her servants were safe in their chambers. So, I let out the revenants. Only… well, it didn’t go as planned.” The emperor sighed. “It should have been fine, you see. The revenants emerged into the hallway and began to go after the escapees. But at that moment, your sister and her servants came barreling down the steps, screaming that they were frightened of the escaped prisoners. And then one of the prisoners, he threw something.” The emperor paused. “You see, the prisoners were locked up because they were doing forbidden sorts of entertainment, these magic tricks that contained bright sparks, like tiny, colored bolts of lightning. And the prisoner threw something like that—this ball of sparks that exploded beyond the revenants.”
Ezekiel supposed he remembered something about escaped prisoners, but this business about balls of lightning was all new. Almost ludicrous. But the emperor seemed to be telling the truth now. He drew his brows together.
The emperor gestured on his desk. “It was like this. The stairs were here, and Honor and her women had descended them. And the prisoners were over here. The revenants were between the two of them, and they were confused. Some were going after the prisoners, but others were shambling after the women. When the prisoners threw that ball of sparks, all of the revenants turned towards your sister and the others. They went after them, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.”
Ezekiel could picture it now. His sister running in terror, the revenants on her heels, reaching for her, their jaws gaping. He took a shaking breath.
“Truthfully,” said the emperor, “those prisoners killed your sister as sure as anyone did.”
“And they escaped?” said Ezekiel.
“Yes,” said the emperor.
“All of them?”
The emperor nodded.
Ezekiel’s hands clenched into fists.
CHAPTER NINE
Darius stood outside of the receiving room as Simon fussed over him. They had arrived in court that morning, but before Darius could be presented to the emperor, Simon had made sure he was bathed and dressed in the traditional clothes of a necromancer. So, now Darius was swathed in a long, black hooded cloak. Simon insisted that Darius keep the hood up over his face. Darius didn’t understand. Now, the only part of him that was truly visible was his eyes. He was still chained, but he wasn’t chained to anything. No, his arms were chained together and so were his feet. It meant that he walked slowly, because he had to drag the chains along behind him. It was difficult to move his feet. They seemed much heavier.
Earlier that day, Simon had discovered that the necromancer’s wife-to-be was no longer Bethany of Virgy, but instead his own sister, Michal. This hadn’t pleased him. He’d knocked over several tables, spilling their contents onto the floor, and stalked out. He was gone for quite some time. When Simon saw him again, he put his finger in his face. “You had better pass this test. I can’t be responsible for the death of my sister, you understand?”
Oddly, Simon didn’t seem particularly concerned about his sister’s welfare, only about what other people would think if he caused her death.
Darius couldn’t help but feel a little bit satisfied with himself. He’d never expected anything like this, marrying the emperor’s daughter, being paraded around court. It wasn’t ideal, of course. He was practically a monster, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist killing her, which meant that he too would probably soon die.
Since arriving at court, he’d been around so many people, and smelling their flesh was an assault on his senses. He’d never smelled anything quite so amazing. It was better than the aroma of fresh bread baking in his mother’s oven. It was a delicious scent, and he wanted it. God, how he wanted it. If he hadn’t been chained, he might have…
But no.
He had restrained himself. There had been a few instances, when the boy servants were helping with his bath, when the bare flesh of their arms had been close enough for him to grab hold of and pull to his mouth. He’d somehow found the strength to hold back.
Maybe he could continue to do so.
But he honestly wasn’t sure how much more of it he could take.
Just then, Simon was fiddling with the hood of his cloak, and Simon’s fingers were very close to his mouth. The smell was so tempting. Several times, he nearly stuck out his tongue to lick the skin.
But. He hadn’t. Not yet.
Finally, all was ready, and the doors to the receiving room opened.
Simon took hold of the chain between his hands and began to lead Darius forward.
Darius followed behind him, his dark cloaks sweeping the floor. The hood blocked his vision on the sides, so he could hardly see all the other people in the room, but he could hear their whispers. He stared straight ahead at the throne, where the emperor sat, and he heard the others in the room all tittering at his approach. They had never seen a necromancer before.
He almost wanted to turn his face to them and bare his teeth like an animal, growl at them. That would shut them up, he was almost certain.
But then his gaze shifted, and he saw his intended bride. It had to be her. She was standing at the foot of the emperor’s throne, wearing a light blue gown. She was trembling. She was beautiful.
He scrutinized her, and he could see the family resemblance between her and Simon—faint but recognizable. She had dark hair, and it was braided simply down her back, as was the custom amongst unmarried women. Her eyes, however, were blue—the same blue as her dress. She was slight of frame, but she was of a height a little taller than average.
He was staring at her, and she was staring right back. She was frightened of him, that much he could see, but she was also curious. She wanted to know about him, just as he wanted to know about her.
It’s a tragedy, he thought. She’s too beautiful to die.
They approached the throne, and they stopped when they were just a few feet back.
Darius couldn’t take his eyes off the girl. What had Simon said her name was? Michal?
But Simon was tugging on him, indicating he should kneel before the emperor. Awkwardly, Darius maneuvered around his chains to do so. Almost as soon as he got to his knees, Simon yanked at him to get back on his feet, and Darius did his best to comply, though he nearly lost his balance.
“Your Eminence,” said Simon. “I present to you the next necromancer.”
The emperor nodded. “You have done well, my son.” He turned to Michal. “Approach your intended, bride.”
Michal swallowed, but she did as the emperor ordered. She made her way over to Darius, and she offered him her hand.
Darius knew there was a problem the minute she got so close to him. Until that point, he had only seen her, but now, she was barely a foot away, extending her arm towards his body, as if she was serving it up to him. And he could smell her.
Ah, the smell. She was like honeysuckle and cinnamon, like cream and sweet nectar. He’d never smelled anything quite so delectable.
Her fingers dangled in front of his face, but he didn’t move. If he touched her, he’d lose control of himself, he’d pull her body tight against him, and he’d put his nose to her chest to breathe in her sweet scent, and then he’d open his mouth to taste her.
He was rock hard, he suddenly realized. It was strange, but his necromancer body had somehow mixed up food and sex into one strangely fatal desire, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to eat her or kiss her. Maybe both. Maybe his lips on hers, maybe sucking her lower lip into his mouth, maybe nibbling…
Simon elbowed him. “Kiss her hand, you idiot,” he breathed.
Darius tried to give Simon a look, to let him know that he couldn’t possibly manage that.
B
ut Simon wasn’t even looking anymore.
So Darius held his breath, trying not to breathe in any smell at all, and he lifted one of his manacled hands to touch hers.
God, her skin was warm.
She gasped and looked at him, her blue eyes wide.
Darius wanted her. Right then, he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything on earth. He lowered his face to her hand, pressed his lips against her skin.
They both shuddered.
He dropped her hand, and she recoiled.
He retreated into his hood, so he couldn’t be seen, running his tongue over his lips, tasting the places that had touched her skin. There was a trace of her there—cinnamon and vanilla. He moaned softly.
And then he looked up to realize that she had seen him do it. No one else had, but she knew.
She was shaking even harder than she had before. There was so much fear in her eyes.
He wished he could soothe her.
But she was right to be terrified of him. He couldn’t resist her. He wanted his mouth on her. His teeth in her. His cock…
He turned to Simon, and he felt the first tendril of smoldering hatred towards the man. What had Simon done to him? And who would be hurt because of it?
* * *
Michal couldn’t stop shaking after the ceremony. She was surprised by the necromancer. He hadn’t been at all what she had expected. From the accounts in the ledgers, she’d expected something monstrous—papery skin, red eyes, and fangs. Of course, she should have known better. He had the revenant virus, and the revenants were perfectly preserved with young, smooth skin. He didn’t look like a monster. He didn’t even look dead. The revenants at least had the decency to look dead. There was something in the way that they moved—something in their empty eyes—that gave it away. But the necromancer…
For one thing, she hadn’t expected his skin to be so dark. It made him look all the more obscure inside that black robe. There weren’t many men as dark and as distinct as him. Michal knew—mostly because of the reading she’d done as a child—that before the Scourge, there had been a stronger division amongst races. In fact, apparently, the paler skinned people had treated the darker ones badly.
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