The Necromancer's Dance (The Beacon Hill Sorcerer Book 1)

by SJ Himes

  “Hate you? How could I hate you?” Simeon asked urgently, lips brushing the top of Angel’s ear. Simeon hugged him, and Angel snaked his arms around Simeon’s torso, letting himself cling.

  “A combined forty-six humans died that night, between mundane humans and my family. I killed over a hundred vampires before the sun came up the next morning,” Angel gasped out, burying his face in Simeon’s shoulder. His voice was muffled, but he had no doubt Simeon could hear him. “Sentient, feeling, soul-bearing lives were ended by magic and flame, and I was the instrument of their final deaths. Twice as many vampires died that night, and none of them were there of their own free will. Vampires across the whole city, hell, all of New England hate and fear me for what I did that night. I scare them, Simeon. I see fear in their eyes when they look at me and hate. So much hate. I’m already persona non grata because I’m a necromancer, but my name is at the top of the Most Hated List. Your clan isn’t as bad as it used to be, but I can still feel the fear and hate, even when I’m helping them. How can you not hate me, too?

  I was raised in battle, in war, and I know in my mind that I had no choice, but I still did it. I killed over a hundred vampires, and did it with anger and vengeance in my heart.”

  “Angel,” Simeon voiced quietly, so intensely his name was a rumble that shook his eardrums, “You did what you must, to survive. Don’t carry their deaths on your conscience. Those sent after you and yours were dying regardless, poisoned by the magic used to bind their wills. The second death you gave them all was self-defense and mercy in one. Anyone with a clear mind and an unbiased heart would see and feel the same as I. It is a miracle that you and your brother lived. Never regret that, my love. I don’t because you are here with me now because of it.”

  “This town wants me either dead or gone, probably both, and those that don’t want me dead want to know my secrets for their own gain.” He was stumbling now, mentally trying to rebuild his defenses, but it was a lost cause and Simeon knew it too.

  “You have many enemies here in Boston, yes. That is true, I will not argue that with you. What I can do is tell you the truth. My truth. What I feel for you is so far from hate I cannot fathom you and that emotion in the same thought. My Master does not hate you, nor does he fear you. You, my love, are under his protection as much as mine, and he knows how I feel about you. You have nothing to fear from the vampires of this bloodclan, I swear it to you.”

  Angel turned his head and whispered against Simeon’s neck. “And if your master changed his mind, and ordered you to kill me, or take me prisoner? To force from me the secret of my victory that long ago night?”

  Simeon was quiet, and motionless as a marble statue, cool and hard. Not even a heartbeat breaking his immobile state. Angel strained, but eventually heard his vampire’s quiet reply.

  “Then I would defy my Master, and safeguard your life and freedom, even unto my own death.”

  Angel looked up and met Simeon’s gaze. A hand’s breadth apart, Angel searched clear emerald depths and found no deceit.

  Every wall came down, toppled by that vow. He felt free, agonized and alive. Every breath hurt, and he ached, bone-deep, wanting nothing more than to have his arms around Simeon and never let go.

  “Do you love me?” Angel whispered, no longer afraid to hear Simeon’s answer.

  “Yes, Angel. Yes, I love you.”

  “Kiss me then,” Angel lifted up on his toes, angling his chin, lips a breath away from Simeon’s. “Kiss me, and take me to bed. Please.”

  The trip down the hall passed in a blur. Mouths fused together, Angel clung to Simeon as the vampire carried him to a bedroom. Angel landed on his back on a soft bed, the bedclothes cool and fresh-scented, spicy like cloves and chocolate, a hint of mint making him salivate and claw at Simeon’s shirt, sliding his hands down to tug up the lower hem, needing fingers on skin.

  Simeon rose over him, a knee opening Angel’s thighs so the vampire could lower himself down, groin to groin, hard satin heat to cool stone length. Angel tore his mouth away and gasped for air, head back, hands tearing at Simeon’s shirt and yanking it away, leaving Simeon’s dark auburn hair in disarray and a smile on his pink lips. Lips that sipped from his neck, tongue laving in a smooth glide down to suck on his collarbone. Hands slid up his sides under his arms, pushing them up and over his head, his wrists caught in an iron grip.

  A low whine escaped his throat, eyes blind with lust, Angel arched up into Simeon’s touch when the Elder held his wrists with one hand and sent the other to work undoing his clothing. “Touch me, please.”

  He didn’t realize he was speaking until Simeon chuckled and dropped a brief but firm kiss on his lips, stalling his whispered begging. His weather-proof sweater went first, then his shirt, and somehow Angel found his hands stayed put above his head when Simeon let go and knelt up on the bed, yanking off his boots and jeans. Angel gave a long exhale of relief when his boxer-briefs were peeled down his legs, Simeon manhandling him until he was naked and laying on his stomach. Hands still over his head, Angel gave a groan of approval when Simeon stripped as well, and lowered his naked form back down on top of him, pushing him into the mattress. A jarring shock of cold, hard flesh settled in his ass crack, then quickly warmed. Angel lifted his hips, trying to encourage the vampire to put his rock-hard cock to excellent use in his ass.

  “You feel so good, Angel,” Simeon said between wet kisses to his back and shoulders, teeth nipping his skin in stinging bites without drawing blood. Angel twisted and tried to spread his legs, needing to feel Simeon inside of his body, holding him down. The vampire was gradually warming, reflecting back body heat, making him feel like he was on fire. He writhed on the satin-smooth blanket beneath him, his cock leaving damp spots on the fabric, the shaft pulsing in time with his frantic heart.

  “Simeon! Fuck me, now!” Angel surged up from beneath Simeon when the vampire clamped his jaws around the top of his shoulder, sucking up a deep mark. The danger of Simeon slipping up and actually breaking the skin merely sent his nerves aflame, the threat to them both serious and real, but it did little to calm his desire. He burned.

  Simeon seemed as aroused as he, the man above him rocking his hips in time with Angel’s panting breath, long cock sliding in sweat, rubbing over his hole, making him clench furiously.

  Simeon’s torture continued, his lover leaving stinging marks behind over his neck, to his other shoulder. His arms ached from being held above his head, and yet being held down and touched never felt so fucking good. Simeon was barely allowing him enough room to breathe, let alone trying to reciprocate. Usually, he hated having no control, but Simeon knew, he just knew, that he needed to have control stripped from him, his body adored and bruised in the most delicious of ways. Letting Simeon take over was as easy as breathing, and it amped him up even more that Simeon knew what he needed.

  Angel turned his head, and Simeon kissed him, tongues dancing around each other, lips clinging. Angel ended the kiss by biting Simeon’s lower lip, tugging on the soft flesh and growling, “Fuck me now, snack on me later!”

  Simeon chuckled, a dark sound that made Angel’s abdomen clench and his ass ache with need. Simeon let go of his wrists, powerful hands sliding down his back to his hips. Angel was lifted to his knees, ass in the air, knees knocked wide and fingers clawing at the blankets. He panted, biting at the soft fabric beneath him when a pop from a tube opening and a cool, wet finger on his hole signaled Simeon’s intent. “Yes, please, yes.”

  “Shh, easy, you’ll get what you want, I promise a ghra,” Simeon whispered, thick finger piercing Angel’s ass without hesitation, expertly twisting and landing right on his prostate. More lube dribbled down his crack, and Angel pushed back on the fingers working him open. Simeon had a hand on his lower back, holding him in place, taming his body’s urge to buck up under the intrusion, seeking more.

  Longer than he liked and sooner than he wanted, Simeon withdrew his fingers, and Angel looked over his shoulder to see the vampire sl
icking his cock, the deep pink of the fat head peeking out of the foreskin, shiny thick pearls of fluid dripping from the slit. Simeon wiped his hands on the bedspread, and grabbed Angel’s hips, pulling him back as the broad head of his cock kissed Angel’s hole. Angel tried to impale himself, but Simeon’s unyielding grip held him immobile.

  The glide in was torture. Slow, relentless, Simeon’s cock filled him, going deeper, opening him wider than any lover before. Angel’s eyes closed, and he fell forward on the bed, moaning as Simeon seated himself to the hilt, heavy balls snug against Angel’s ass. The shaft in his ass made him ache, cool and foreign until his own body heat warmed the rock-hard flesh, making him squirm. It hurt, but in the best way possible, making him whine and twist on the bed as Simeon began to withdraw, giving him no time to adjust before Simeon surged back in with a snap of his hips.

  “Fuck me!” Angel gritted out, teeth snapping on the bedclothes, fingers raking the blankets.

  A feral snarl was his answer, and the bruising grip on his hips and the punishing rhythm surging against his ass took his mind apart at the seams. Body singing, nerves dancing, fire snapping behind his closed eyes, Angel submitted to his lover’s fierce need, letting it drive him higher and higher. He barely noticed Simeon lifting him off the bed, pulling him so his back was plastered to Simeon’s front, the vampire fucking up into him with short, powerful thrusts. His prostate sizzled and precum dripped from his untouched cock, balls tight, his breathing ragged and his heart ready to explode from sensory overload, Angel fell over the edge.

  He screamed, head falling back to land on Simeon’s shoulder, his eyes now truly blind as he climaxed hard. Spine bowed, legs shaking, Angel spurted across the bed, thick ropes of cum that fell with loud splats in time with his whimpers and gasps. Simeon shuddered underneath him, roaring as he slammed up into Angel, flooding him with heavy, wet pulses that seemed to fill every inner crevice.

  Angel panted heavy, fast breaths that left him dizzy. Simeon cradled him close, gently lifting him off his still hard cock and laying him down in a tangle of limp limbs.

  Angel dozed, occasionally jerking as his cock and balls twitched, aftershocks from his stellar orgasm echoing along his nervous system. He jumped when a cool, wet cloth skimmed along his ass and tender hole, cleaning him. He tried opening his eyes but only succeeded in cracking them a sliver, watching as Simeon walked naked around the room, picking up their clothes and moving out of his line of sight. Simeon came back after a moment, speaking on a phone in a low murmur Angel was too well-fucked to hear properly. Simeon hung up and came back to the bed. Cool arms slid under him, and Angel was quickly deposited under the covers, the dirtied top blanket pulled away and disappearing too.

  Simeon crawled into bed beside him, arms pulling him close, cool lips pressing a kiss to his forehead. He snuggled, and sighed happily, utterly spent and exhausted. Angel had the mental presence left to make sure his connection to the veil was secure and thin, power seeping into him in a steady trickle before letting sleep take him under.

  Angel woke with a start, sitting up so fast he made himself dizzy. Rubbing his eyes, Angel took in the room, a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, set on low, providing more light than the heavily treated gray-hued windows. It was daytime, as best he could tell, since he could see outside, the view of downtown impressive, the partial view of the harbor clear. The treated windows made the room feel shadowed and gloomy.

  He was alone, Simeon nowhere to be seen, the divot in the pillow next to his still deep, so the Elder was there until recently. He went back to admiring the view, or trying to.

  Angel frowned, thinking Simeon was getting ripped off with the view since the glass was so thick and tinted, spelled and treated to keep the vampire from being exposed to the UV rays and radiant magic that would kill him. It was functional but horribly inconvenient. Though Angel’s spells would not work here—his sunlight reflection wards and runes would only function if they were based on an Invitation, offered willingly by the mortal who resided within the warded home. It might work if Simeon had a permanent blood donor who lived with him, but what he knew of such arrangements was thin. He knew a vampire’s weaknesses, but how the inner working of their society functioned was beyond him at the moment. He had no idea if blood donors and slaves lived with the vampires they fed, or if the humans had their own living spaces.

  Sliding from the bed, Angel headed for the bathroom, feet sinking into the opulent carpet, muffling his footsteps. He used the toilet and hopped in the shower, sniffing the soaps. They were odorless, and he smiled. That meant Simeon’s delicious scent was natural, and Angel couldn’t help the wave of happiness that swept through him at that realization. He blushed, even though there was no one to see him acting like a teenager suffering his first case of puppy love.

  Thinking about the Elder led him to thinking about the night before, and Angel stood under the hot spray, distracted by memories of how thoroughly he fell apart under the vampire’s hands. Simeon had known what he needed, and even now, his ass aching and his shoulders bearing love bites, Angel still felt his lover’s hands on him, the weight of his body, the taste of his kiss.

  Shaking his head, Angel finished washing up and got out, drying off with a fluffy and soft towel before rummaging under the sink. He found a box of new toothbrushes and travel sized toiletries, and he raided the supply. It didn’t look like anyone else had used the supplies unless Simeon replaced them often. Not wanting to think about how often the Elder had sleepovers with blood donors or even other vampires, Angel cleaned himself up, eyeing his messy hair in the mirror with a frown.

  His hair was dark brown, but the ends were capped white and honey blond, and since it was so short, most thought him a blond instead of a brunet. His eyes were dark, a mix of green and brown, and his skin had a light golden tan regardless of the season. Thankful the toiletries included shaving cream and a razor, Angel shaved before setting his hair to rights.

  He looked like his father. Angel was shorter than his father had been, Raine Salvatore was over six feet tall, built like a dancer and elegant. Angel was shorter, built more like the swimmer he was in high school, but their coloring was the same and Angel bore his father’s features.

  Thinking about his father led his thoughts to August, and how the man’s life was stolen from him.

  “Who is Deimos?” Angel said, speaking to himself in the mirror. “Why now, after ten years, does he make his move now? I’ve been here the whole time in Boston. I never left, everyone who mattered knew where I was, who I am, so why now? What is happening in the world now that makes Deimos come after me? Something changed, and recently.”

  Angel washed his face, drying himself. He leaned on the counter and met his own gaze in the crystal clear mirror. “August said Deimos wanted the spell I used that night. No one living remains who knows how I managed it, and I’ve only ever told August, and even he had trouble understanding it. He never told, otherwise I would be dead right now, every vampire on the entire East Coast clamoring for my head. Deimos wouldn’t have left August at my office and challenged me if he knew what spell I used.”

  “Yes, that is logical, mo ghra,” Simeon said from behind him, and Angel spun heart racing. He was so intent on talking to himself he never saw Simeon come into the bathroom. Simeon smiled and kissed him before taking his hand and pulling him from the bathroom to the bed, where Angel recognized his own clothes from the night before, cleaned and folded. “Keep going, you were making progress.”

  Angel got dressed, thinking. “Well, in the last few months, I’ve had two people be overly interested in how I defeated the army that night. A young man who came to my offices under the false assumption I would share the secret with enough flattery and hollow praise, who I promptly sent off before I set him on fire, and now Deimos. The human was rude, and Deimos homicidal, so they may or may not be connected, but dismissing coincidence can get you killed. Has anyone here in the clan been asking about me too much? Maybe someone repeate
dly inquiring?”

  Simeon thought about it, and replied, “Not here, at least not in recent months. The Master’s stance on how he wants you treated is well known, so anyone curious about you has been left unsatisfied and knows better than to approach you. Though William Bridgerton asked about you the other night at the welcome banquet. My Master deflected most of his questions.”

  “The unranked master from Atlanta? What exactly did he ask?” Angel said, and Simeon shifted on his feet, the usually controlled undead man looking sheepish. “Simeon, now I really want to know. What did Bridgerton say?”

  “He inquired as to the clan’s relationship with you, and if there was any animosity. Not an unexpected question, as he seeks to move himself and his fledglings here. He would want them safe, and an angry necromancer with the ability to destroy large numbers of us at once would be a dangerous neighbor to have.”

  “Yeah, okay, but I can tell that isn’t all he asked,” Angel said, eyes narrowed. “Spill.”

  “He asked after you specifically, your personality, what you looked like, and a fledgling showed him a picture. Bridgerton’s reaction was…. interesting.” Simeon looked angry, his green eyes flashing. Angel cracked a smile, and put a hand on Simeon’s chest, rubbing firm muscles and enjoying every second of it.

  “Interesting, or do you mean interested? Are you jealous? Did he think I was hot?” Angel asked, chuckling when Simeon growled and flashed a fang at him. “Ha! You are jealous!”

  “You are mine. He cannot have you,” Simeon hissed, yanking Angel forward and hugging him close. “You finally let me in, and I will not lose this chance to earn your love and my place in your life. Bridgerton can get his own necromancer.”

  “I haven’t even met this vamp, and you’re getting all caveman on me. Is he hot? Sexy? Should I be looking to upgrade?” Angel teased, snorting out a laugh when Simeon snarled again and lifted him off his feet, throwing him onto the bed and laying on top of him. Angel laughed, and Simeon huffed and started licking and kissing along Angel’s jawline. He turned into the caresses, cock perking up, hands wandering down Simeon’s shoulders and back. “I thought I agreed to be yours?” Angel murmured, eyes drifting closed as Simeon went about what seemed to be his favorite pastime, sucking up marks on his neck, this time right behind his ear. “I could’ve sworn I agreed to be all yours already.”