by JP Vasha
I felt like someone kicked me in the ribs. But I'm not a Necromancer! I wanted to shout. I'm just a human, nothing weird about me!
"I agree with Carla," Khloe said, her voice uncharacteristically serious. "She's not something as ominous as a Necromancer, trust me. She the most humanly human I've ever encountered." It didn't sound like a compliment.
Kimberly's face was pitying. "Your soul didn't lie, Carla. It gives of the darkness that Necromancers carry. You have potential to become something that even the Alpha of the Biwole should be afraid of."
But being a Necromancer is just raising the dead! I thought rapidly, feeling as though I was going to combust from hysteria. Even if I am a Necromancer, it doesn't mean anything!
He was a mind reader, that much was evident when Kimberly answered me directly. "You have a lot of contained, untrained powers, Carla Tierney Mill," he said softly, making me want to scream, "and that can turn a mere Necromancer into a Demonomancer."
My figurative heart stopped beating. Demonomancer?
Kimberly answered. "One who can raise demons."
Chapter Ten
Khloe was not happy, to say the least, when Kimberly told her he would like me to be in charge of her body again. "But I just got used to it again," she pouted when we were in the lounge just us, Kimberly, Zack and Mike. The rest had left us some privacy. "Besides," Khloe continued, glancing at Mike, who leaned against the wall with folded arms and grim face, "I just... found my mate. I want to, you know, mate him."
Kimberly seemed pained when he said, "I'm deeply sorry, Miss Daniels, but that might not be possible right now, considering Miss Mill is still inside you, and that she's Mr. Grey's mate."
Zack, who had a very dark expression on his face, pushed his hair back using both hands, an evident sign of his frustration. "That's just too fucked up," he murmured. "I can't believe it's happening."
Mike gave a humorless bark of laughter. "Tell me all about it."
Hearing his voice, Zack glanced up at the other male and the two were suddenly locked in a dangerous exchange of looks. Zack's eyes seemed to say, You're not going to touch her just yet, while Mike's eyes were gravelly telling him, Neither are you, then.
Kimberly, sensing the rising tension in the air, pointed at the two men. "If you can't behave yourself despite the harsh circumstances," he said in a voice like that of a kindergarten teacher, "I suggest you leave the room and wait with the others."
The two answered together with a furious, "Hell no."
"Then behave," Kimberly commanded, and even that sounded soft with the kindness he emitted. Then he returned to Khloe. "Now, Miss Daniels, I promise that your body will be yours only as soon as possible. But for now, I need to talk face-to-face with Carla."
Please, Khloe, I tried to cajole the stubborn girl too, we need to figure this crap out. Please.
Khloe's arms flew in irritation. "Fine," she growled, "do the fucking thing. Like, nobody actually cares that I've been stuck in Carla's head, in my own body, for the past five months and just now got out literally, so who cares, right?"
Mike's face softened at the first true emotion Khloe showed. "I'll make sure you get to have your body back to yourself," he said, and it sounded like a vow.
Khloe gave him a condescending look. "I don't your reassurance, Goldilocks," she told him, and I saw Mike's eyes widening with surprise at Khloe's inherent spunk. "I can handle myself just find. I've handled myself before you came along and stupid Fate decided we were meant for each other or whatever."
Shockingly, Mike grinned. It was the first time his lips stretched into something other than grimace ever since we met him in the airport. "You'll want me to handle you," he murmured, eyes turning smoky, and I felt Khloe freezing as heat licked up at her body. "You'll beg me to handle you, and I'll indulge myself in your need so much so, you ain't gonna walk straight anymore, baby."
For my utter astonishment, Khloe blushed. "In your dreams," she spat, but it was all for show. Her heart was booming in excitement at the predicament, and I heard her thoughts going into dirty places, with Mike as their main objects, and mentally groaned. Would you rather not think about this stuff right now?
Instead of answering me in her head, Khloe said aloud, "Did I interrupt you when you made out with Grey? No. So I'm allowed to have dirty thoughts about my mate." She winked at Mike then, shyness evaporating into thin air, and Mike chuckled in response.
Zack's face, however, turned grimmer.
Kimberly, seemingly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation took, said, "I'm going to pull Carla out now that you're done flirting."
Khloe flicked her hair back. She did it a lot, I noticed, especially when she wasn't happy with something. "Let's get this shit over with, then."
I felt Kimberly in her mind then, giving me a mental hand. Take over, he spoke directly into my consciousness, and then showed me the way through the darkness, to where the "control room" of sorts of Khloe's body was. Then, my sight went black.
When I opened my eyes, again in charge of Khloe's body, I was still sitting on the chair, but instead of sitting upright, I was half-sprawled. Blinking, I straightened and whispered in my mind, Khloe?
The one and the only, she said, voice annoyed. And here we go again, you in control, me viewing everything as though it the Kardashians' show.
Kimberly was kneeling before me, his hands on mine. "Carla?" he asked.
I nodded, and turned to look at Zack. He wasn't looking at me. He was gazing at the floor, fingers interlaces, muscled tensed to a popping point. Feeling my heart squeezing for him, I rose and walked toward him. When I was standing right before him and he refused to look up, I crouched. "Zack," I said softly, the body's voice my own. "Zack, please look at me."
He refused to do so, I could see from his locked jaw. Tears brimmed in my eyes. "Zack, please," I whispered, feeling a lump the side of my fist in my throat. "I need you. I really, really need you." And I wasn't afraid to admit it, now that I knew I was his mate all along, and not Khloe.
How did I get so lucky, I wondered, that this gorgeous, sweet man was meant to be mine? And how, with this luck, came the misfortune that was everything else?
Finally, Zack raised his eyes to my brown ones. "I can't," he said, and for my dismay saw his eyes turning granite with his resolve. "Your soul might be my mate, Carla, but this body is not mine, will never be mine. This body belongs to Mike. Ninety percent of you belong to Mike. And I can't..."
I knew what he was saying was true, was logical. I also knew that while I had the practical knowledge that he was my mate, I still didn't recognize him as such, and I bet it was because of the entire situation I got myself into. It was as though Zack and I found each other too late, or too early. If I was still alive, before the massacre, and met him then, when I was me, would he still have recognized my as his mate?
Eventually, it didn't matter. So, with my feelings all over the place, I raised myself back up and turned to Kimberly. "Tell me everything," I said softly, hoping he didn't hear the crack in my voice. "Everything about Necromancers and the Men of Logia, please."
Kimberly complied, and after he seated me next to him on the sofa, he began. "A long time ago, before the world as we know it now existed, there was an ancient land called Logia." He smiled nostalgically. "Logia was a land of magic and power, of dragons and their believers, and all was well for a while.
"When an archaeologist called Gohan found the dragons dead in Mount Kuon, a war broke between the two Clans of worshippers: The White Clan who worshipped Nashira, the snowy dragon, and the Red Clan, who worshipped Obadias, the crimson dragon. The wars wreaked havoc upon the land, and when it was over, only a few people remained." He paused. "They were called the Men of Logia, the last survivors of the ancient land, who are also called Deities."
He took a deep breath before continuing. "The Deities were granted immortality and powers. I'm one of them, although I'm probably the weakest," he smiled a little at that. "But that's not the p
oint. The point is, after Logia disbanded and the world as we know it came, Logia became some sort of a parallel world, existing in the line of our world, but brimming with ancient magic."
That sounds a little nuts, Khloe commented. But I guess, after being resurrected by some Necromancer that everything is possible.
With that, I had to agree.
"While most Deities prefer to avoid Logia nowadays and dwell in this world," Kimberly said, "there were two who decided to be in Logia and keep the peace there. You see, after the Logia war, two of the Men of Logia began populating the ancient land, which now became the parallel world I'm talking about, and most the humans who live there are in contact with some magic. They also don't know of the existence of this world, like everyone in this world don't know anything about Logia.
"In Logia," Kimberly continue, "there's a specific magic system. People who're born with magic are called Magicians, for their magic is at its very basic. Most often than not, Magicians can practice magic and develop it, making its power grow. Those who decide to do that mostly go to the Red Order headquarters, where there's an academy for kids who want to work in the future in one of the few guilds that are spread in Logia.
"Once a Magician develop their power more than the average Magician, they go through a ritual called the First Blood and become Witch for females, and Warlock for males. Unlike Magicians, whose magic is pretty basic and mostly unusable for more than domestic stuff, Witches and Warlocks are able to cast spells and create curses of sorts." Kimberly watched me closely. "You're following?"
I nodded. "Please proceed."
He nodded and did as I asked. "Only about thirty percent of the Witches and Warlocks can develop their powers farther enough in order to undergo the Second Blood ritual, which would lead them to be Sorcerers." He sighed. "Sorcerers are the highest level someone who started as Magician can get, and if the Sorcerer is strong enough, he or she can train and specialize in one of the eleven categories, two of which I already told you about." He paused before saying, "Necromancer and Demonomancer."
Checking my face to see that I was still with him, he continued. "A Sorcerer needs to have an affinity to one of the categories, and to master each they need to go different rituals, each in their own category. Some can even have an affinity to two categories, but I won't get into that now." He smiled slightly. "Now for the real reason I'm telling you about this."
He looked away from me and stared at the window. Outside rain was falling. "A small percent of the humans in Logia are born with unnaturally high level of powers, so much so they can be made Sorcerers from the moment of birth. Those whose powers are astronomical are called Mages, but Mages are extremely rare and according to what I know, there hasn't been born a Mage in a long time. But that's not my point." He shook his head. "You, Carla, are a born Sorceress, with the natural affinity to Necromancy, and maybe even Demonomancy."
Full stop. "Wait just a minute," I said, frowning in concentration. "How's that possible I'm a Sorceress or whatever? I wasn't born in Logia, and my parents, I can assure you, didn't."
"That's where your situation becomes more complicated," he said softly. "There are cases in Logia when parents give birth to a Sorcerer child, and they're afraid of their powers, so much so that they decide to give them as a tribute to the Queen." He grimaced at that. "One of my fellow Deities is dwelling in Logia and believed to be a great Queen, a goddess, an angel, take your pick. Those parents give their babies as tributes to her, and she does what deems fit with each." He glanced at the door of the lounge with an odd look. "I know of one case that the Queen sent a baby to this world through a portal. That baby girl was called Genevieve, she grew up to be an unfulfilled Sorceress who became a prostitute back in the 14th century."
The sudden tension coming from Zack made me glance at him. His eyes were wide when he snapped his gaze to Kimberly. "Does Evelyn know about that?" he asked, face paling for some reason.
"Of course," Kim slid a glance to him, "I told her as soon as I found out."
I felt like I was missing something, but decided it was not worth my attention right now. "So you're saying there's a chance I was given as a tribute to some Queen who sent me to Earth?" I snorted in disbelief. "I mean, come on. That's ridiculous."
"I don't know if that's what it is in your case, but I think it's worth looking into, don't you?" Kimberly's intelligent gold eyes landed on my heavily. I found myself swallowing. He was dead-serious.
Mike sighed. "So what are we going to do now?" he asked the much required question.
Kimberly rose to his feet. "We need to look deeper into Carla's past," he announced. "Then I'm going to try and contact my brother."
Zack looked at him funnily. "You have a brother?"
The Deity nodded. "He's one of the Men of Logia as well, and the other Deity who resides at Logia besides the Queen." He then frowned, scratching his head. "I do wonder, though, when was the last Season?"
Mike and Zack exchanged odd glances. "December," Mike answered.
Sighing, Kimberly said, "That means the portal moved. And that also means Ambery will likely be available for contact in a month's time."
I guessed Ambery was his brother, but I didn't understand the first thing. "What does the Mating Season have to do with a portal?"
"You see," the Deity said with a soft smile, "the Mating Season is actually called the Magic Season, a time in which werewolves are in heat of finding their mates; all vampiric breeds turning wild; magic-users high on power and so on. Why is that, you might ask," his smile widened. "It's because of Logia."
"Everything goes back to this stupid place," Zack murmured darkly.
Kimberly nodded as though the Beta made a supremely intelligent remark. "About two or three times a year," he explained, "the land of Logia intertwines with our world. When that happens, some of the magic in there seeps into our world, creating the Season. Whenever that happens, a portal to Logia and back is being moved from one place to another. For instance, before December, the portal used to be in South Africa. Now, however, I'm yet to know its place. It could be anywhere."
I think all of us were surprised at this new bit of info. "Why does it matter where the portal is?" I asked, trying to wade through everything Kimberly had told me and barely succeeding.
"Because," he said patiently, "after about three months since the Season occurs, my brother comes through to meet me and update me about the situation in Logia. He also tells me where the portal is, in case I need it."
"And why do we need it?" Zack asked, eyes narrowed. "Are you saying you want us to visit Logia?"
"Not just visit," Kimberly turned to me with an inscrutable look. "You're going to look for the Necromancer who started this whole mess."
Chapter Eleven
Sleep evaded me as I rolled from side to side on the huge bed in the guest room I'd been given. The Pack House was silent, not a noise to be sound, and I believed even Khloe was asleep deep inside my head.
After Kimberly's lecture, it appeared it was late and so I was given a few hours of sleep. But how could I rest when I'd just found out about Deities, Logia and Necromancers, and that, apparently, I was one? It just seemed so utterly weird. It did, however explain a lot.
That was the only reason I wasn't running away screaming to the hills.
Tomorrow, Kimberly promised they would start look into my origins and try to detect if they were, indeed, rooted in Logia. He also said that, until his brother appeared in a month's time, I should remain in Lumen and, he whispered to me then, try to get to know my mate while Khloe would get to know hers. He even taught us the trick of how changing who controlled this body and said not to do it so often because it would tire the body.
After that little tidbit, Khloe told me I could have her body until tomorrow. Knowing I would go back to the backseat also refused to let me sleep, and all in all, I knew tomorrow would be an exhausting day.
A knock on my door made me jump. Pulling the blanket off and standing on my feet,
I walked to the door and opened it hesitantly. In the entrance stood Zack.
I gulped, my heart thumping fast in my chest. "W-What are you doing here?" I asked softly as I moved back and allowed him inside.
He walked in, kicked the door shut, and was about to approach me when his eyes fastened on my neck and something not entirely on the side of the angels crossed his eyes. Feeling a little unnerved at the look, I raised a shaky hand an planted it on my neck, where his look was turning more furious within the moments. Then I felt what put him suddenly on edge.
His mark, my mark, was gone.
"How..." I whispered, my legs failing and my butt hitting the mattress. "How's that... I don't know..."
Zack seemed like he wanted to punch something. "It's because Khloe was in charge," he said flatly, his eyes blazing. He began pacing. "It's because she found Mike and her body rejected the mark."
I wanted to cry from the expression on his face. "Zack..." I rose, wobbling on my feet, "please, Zack, stop."
His head whipped to my direction and suddenly he was in my face, his hand holding my upper arms. "How can I stop, Carla?" he barked the answer, eyes flashing blue, green and gray wildly, like a jungle. "How can I stop, knowing that my mate is right here before me and that he body is not hers? How can I stop when the fact you didn't even acknowledge me as your mate in the required fundamental level is ripping me apart? How can I stop," his voice cracked, "when every instinct in my body tells me to take you, mark you, claim you and be claimed in return, and yet when I finally hunt you down, I can smell Khloe on you, another man's – a good man's – mate? How can I stop then?!"
Seeing a strong man crying was heartbreaking. Zack, who'd been so composed only two days ago, chuckling with me, kissing me senseless, was breaking down now. The tears in his eyes were tears of incomprehensible pain.
