Romancing the Dead

by Tate Hallaway

  “Uh, guys, we need to scram,” I said. “The caretaker has spotted us.”

  Sebastian let out a disappointed groan, but I expected he was going to need a lot of blood—more than Mátyás or I had to spare—before he made a complete recovery. They disengaged. Mátyás struggled to his feet a bit woozily, but we all got moving when we heard the caretaker shout, “Hey, you kids, what are you doing over there?”

  We ran. In the daylight I had an easier time not tripping over all the sunken markers. But, between the blood loss and my muscles aching from hours of digging, my side quickly got a stitch in it. Puffing, I dragged myself along. Luckily, the caretaker continued to inspire me by shouting, “Oh my God! What have you done? I’m calling the police!”

  It was a surprisingly excellent motivational speech. We managed to get out past the gates and into Mátyás’s Jag before the caretaker thought to walkie-talkie for reinforcements. Some guys in a rattly pickup truck were just rounding the bend when Mátyás let out the clutch and the Jag’s tires squealed with the stench of burning rubber.

  “I hope they didn’t get the license plate,” I said from the backseat. Sebastian took shotgun and I wasn’t about to argue, though I wished he were in the back with me. I hadn’t gotten much of a chance to tell him how much I missed him.

  “Let them call the cops. We’re not the ones who buried someone alive,” Mátyás said.

  When Mátyás asked where we wanted to go, Sebastian and I exchanged a look. It was obvious we both agreed that, besides a bath, what we really wanted was some time together to reconnect—alone—so I told Mátyás to drop Sebastian and me back at my apartment. With Mátyás at his place, mine seemed the best, even given the circumstances. Besides, if someone wanted either of us dead, it wasn’t necessarily the first place they’d look for us.

  That’s right! I needed to catch Sebastian up on everything that had happened so far. So, as Mátyás drove, I explained everything from the magical attacks to Micah’s capital-C Coyote.

  “I’ve always hated dogs,” Sebastian muttered. “Man, I can’t get over it. Your apartment is gone? I love that place. Is Barney okay?”

  “I love you so much.”

  Mátyás made a gagging sound. “We’re here,” he said, bumping the curb slightly as he pulled up. “I’ll stop by the store and tell William what happened.”

  “Oh my Goddess,” I breathed. “Mátyás, that would be so . . . sweet.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” Mátyás grumbled as he drove away.

  Clambering under the caution tape, Sebastian and I tiptoed up the stairs. I didn’t think the downstairs neighbors were awake, or even home, but coming here felt so illicit it seemed only right to try to be sneaky. It was after eight in the morning, but it was a Sunday. No contractors at work.

  “It’s like breaking into the old high school,” I whispered to Sebastian.

  He nodded, though I knew he had absolutely no reference for that. Did they even have secondary education when he was alive?

  I had that strange sense of light-headedness as I passed by the gaping hole in the living room. Sebastian, on the other hand, seemed almost drawn to it. “Whoa,” he said, leaning over the flattened couch to look down at the lawn below. “Check it out.”

  “No, thanks,” I said. I stayed back by the archway that separated the living room from the dining room and clutched the wall. Normally, I wasn’t afraid of heights. What scared me wasn’t the distance to the ground so much as a phantom sensation of what it would be like to jump. It was as if I couldn’t trust myself not to leap to my doom if I let myself get too close. Even though this was only one story up, I could far too easily imagine breaking a leg or worse on impact.

  While Sebastian continued to marvel at the damage the tree had caused in the physical plane, I decided that I should look at it in the magical realm. Something, I chided myself, I should have done right away. I opened up my magical senses.

  The hole in the wall pulsed with darkness. Swirling around the edges were thousands of pencil-thin, black smoky worms. They slithered over bits of broken plaster and lath, disappearing into crevices, like a swarm of carpenter ants.

  “Get away from there, Sebastian,” I said, though they seemed completely oblivious to him. He had no aura, after all. No doubt he didn’t register as living.

  “There’s something still here, isn’t there?” he asked, coming off the couch slowly as if wary that the creatures might notice his movement and attack. “Some kind of ghost of the magic?”

  I nodded. “Or something. I wish you could see them,” I said.

  “I can feel them,” he said. “They’re familiar somehow.”

  “Like the magic that KO’d you? Coyote’s magic?”

  He shook his head thoughtfully. “No, more intimate.” He backed away. “Anyway, you should talk to the contractor.”

  I laughed. “About what? A magical infestation?”

  “No, but I’d bet money they’re going to have delays in reconstruction if you don’t do some kind of cleansing. Whatever’s left behind is sure to cause problems for the workers.”

  A bunch of bad-luck bugs causing nail guns to malfunction or accidents to occur. I shook my head; it was a hex— an insidious one at that. “Somebody really hates me.”

  Sebastian looked around at the ruined apartment. “But, speaking of all that, do you think we can be safe here? From what you told me whoever it is has attacked remotely before.”

  It was my turn to flash Sebastian a wicked grin. “I’ve been thinking about that,” I said, leaning closer to run my fingernails down his chest. “We’ve always had very powerful sex magic.”

  “Hmm,” he said, ducking down to capture my lips with his. “I do so love the way you think.”

  But first we needed to get clean. I was covered in mud and Sebastian . . . well, Sebastian smelled like a funeral home. I was pleased when the water came on in the bathroom, and I set it for filling the tub. I squirted in a large dollop of bubbles, figuring that the more I used up the less I’d have to move later. The steam smelled faintly of lavender.

  Sebastian watched from the doorway with hungry eyes. Standing up slowly, I smiled seductively. I pulled my top over my head, wiggling my hips in my best imitation of an erotic dancer. I thought for sure Sebastian would laugh at me, but instead he gave a low, appreciative rumble. Apparently, the sight of my sweat-slicked, mud-streaked, naked breasts worked for him.

  I shimmied out of the rest of my clothes. I kicked off my shoes. Now I was completely bare. Even in the humid bathroom steam, I shivered a little with the sudden and complete exposure.

  Sebastian continued to stare, unabashedly appreciative. With his eyes on me, I leaned over the tub and turned the faucets off.

  After lingering in that position just a little longer than necessary, I stepped closer to him and reached out to unbutton his shirt. His palms rested on my shoulders, cool from torpor. Slowly, he stroked along the contours of my back. Cupping my buttocks, he pulled me against him. The fabric of his clothes felt rough on my sensitive skin. My hands were pinned between us. When I looked into his eyes, I felt the heat of his need.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said. I needed a bath. Still, I believed he meant it.

  I wanted to tell him he still looked too pale and too thin, but it seemed unkind. “I missed you so much,” I said instead.

  The bath in my apartment was one of those deep claw-footed ones. Sebastian and I easily fit into it. We sat facing each other at first, using my body scrub to softly wash each other. I delighted in watching the water sluice down the flat planes of Sebastian’s chest, and he teased my breasts with light, quick caresses.

  To wash his hair I had Sebastian scoot around so that he could lay his head in my lap. I rubbed his scalp with soap, until he had a bubble mane. I poured cup after cup of warm water through his hair. His eyes closed with satisfaction. I traced a finger along his jaw; he needed a shave.

  We switched places and he did my hair. His gentle min
istrations nearly lulled me to sleep. A sigh of absolute pleasure escaped my lips. Then some soap got on the cut on my arm and I hissed.

  “Let me look at that,” he said.

  I offered up a soapy arm. Sebastian smoothed the bubbles away to look at the cut. As he held the wound close to his face, his body stiffened. His fangs descended.

  “It’s bleeding again,” he managed to say. Then, I felt his lips lightly probe the gash. It was sexual the way Sebastian’s tongue darted in and out of the folds of the injury, slightly spreading the edges.

  “Oh,” I managed to say, my mouth going dry, while another part grew wetter.

  Pressing his mouth to my arm, he sucked. Tenderly, he lapped at the skin and torn flesh. In the water beneath my head, I felt his arousal stiffen.

  I shifted slightly so that Sebastian could continue his exploration of my wound, and, though it was a bit awkward, I found a way to use my mouth and tongue in a similar fashion.

  The water had gone cold and my fingers were pruned and wrinkled by the time we got out.

  We adjourned to the bedroom after drying off. I just couldn’t get enough of him; it was like we hadn’t seen each other in a year. Slowly, Sebastian kissed my throat and shoulders. I let my hands find familiar curves along his back and arms.

  I reveled in the strength of his muscles, taut and solid. Cupping my breasts in his hands, his mouth covered my nipple. He sucked and nipped, sending stabs of pleasure deep inside me. I arched into him. Grabbing fistfuls of his hair, I begged him not to stop. When he did pull away, he softly blew cool air over my aroused skin. I trembled with delicious stimulation.

  Dropping all the way to the floor, he tugged at my robe. Needing no further encouragement, I slipped out of it, letting it drop to the floor.

  “I lied when I said I’d never go on my knees for you,” he said, pressing butterfly light kisses against my tummy and thighs. I bit my lip to hold back a moan as his mouth unhurriedly progressed toward the moist spot between my legs.

  When Sebastian’s tongue finally found the center of my pleasure, I couldn’t stifle a whimper. He pressed deeper and I found I actually couldn’t stand the intensifying stimulation and my knees literally buckled. I fell backward onto the bed with a squeal.

  Sebastian looked startled to find me writhing alone on the bed, but then laughed. “I can’t say I’ve ever gotten that reaction before.”

  “Oh, shut up and get over here,” I begged.

  Though it took less than a second for him to climb onto the bed, it felt like an eternity until my legs were wrapped around him and he was inside me.

  Sensing my anxious need, his motions were leisurely. I moved frantically against him, urging him to faster speed. To get my point across, I clutched at his back, letting my nails sink deeply into his flesh. “Oh,” he growled into my ear. “You want to play rough, eh?”

  I nipped his ear in response.

  He ground himself into me. I gasped, but reciprocated. I was done with slow. I wanted him, all of him, now.

  We set a pounding tempo and I could feel myself beginning to reach a crescendo, but there was one thing missing.

  “Bite me,” I demanded between breaths.

  He almost faltered.

  “Bite me, Sebastian, like you mean it. Please. Bite me.”

  I must have convinced him that I was serious because his fangs descended. A tremor of anticipation rolled through me in a wave. His teeth sank into my shoulder, and I screamed. A searing pain blinded me, but at the same moment I came, hard. A combination of hurt and arousal electrified every nerve ending. When he finished, I felt spent—more so than ever before. I lay panting and out of breath as he held me and stroked my hair.

  “Are you all right?” he whispered softly.

  “Oh my Goddess,” I said. “Let’s do that again.”

  And so we did, only with variations on the theme, until I finally remembered we were supposed to be doing protective magic. By that time, I was too physically exhausted to summon anything more than a loose circle around us. Sebastian’s arms encircled me, however, and felt strong and safe, and so I snuggled closely in his embrace.

  I woke up to pounding. At first I thought I was experiencing some kind of wicked morning-after sex headache, until I realized the hammering was coming from my living room. The light that came in the window was muted, as though it were early evening.

  The floorboard creaked. It sounded like someone wandering around. “Looters,” I whispered to Sebastian, who had shot upright a second after I had.

  Quickly, I grabbed clothes from my dresser. Underwear and socks, cutoff jeans, and a T-shirt that asked, “Got Magick?”

  Sebastian raided his side of the closet for a fresh pair of jeans and a button-down. He left it undone as we snuck out into the living room to see who the intruder was.

  We spotted him peering at the hole in the living room. He pulled at some of the loose boards experimentally. “Stop that,” I shouted, thinking of the hex magic that still clung to the damage.

  The intruder jumped and spun, holding the crowbar and flashlight in his hands like a weapon. In the twilight, he squinted at me. “Garnet, is that you?”

  The voice sounded familiar, though for a moment I couldn’t quite place it. Could it be my landlord? “Randy?”

  Randy was in his sixties and had a full head of hair. Athletic and trim, he had intense green eyes and a handlebar mustache. With his sensible shoes and fashionable suit coat, Randy looked like a cross between an aging biker and gay guy. I always figured he might be both of those, in fact.

  “Are you still living here?” he asked, sounding horrified. “And who’s this? Is this someone I should add to your lease?”

  I introduced Sebastian as my fiancé. They did the manly shaking of hands.

  “Congratulations,” Randy said. “I hope you two will be happy here after the remodeling.”

  I looked at Sebastian. Then, I took his hand in mine. “Actually, I’m moving in with Sebastian.”

  “We’ll probably look for our own place,” Sebastian said to me. Although his words were a statement, his eyebrows raised in question.

  “Sure,” I agreed, while giving Sebastian’s hand that extra squeeze to tell him I’d come to a decision. “There’s no hurry. It’s very comfortable at the farm.”

  We walked over to Jensen’s where Sebastian picked up his car. Our fingers entwined as we walked. The evening air was cool and smelled faintly of fish where it blew in across the lake. Nighthawks flashed through the air, gobbling mosquitoes as they flew. The car was parked in the alley behind the shop.

  “So,” I said, as I got into the passenger side. “There really was a Mustang?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “But I never even got in the door. Someone shot me with an arrow in the alley.” He touched his chest as if still feeling phantom pain. “Once transfixed, I couldn’t move. They—it was a man and a woman—hauled me into a Jeep and drove off to the cemetery. The grave was already dug. I think I heard the funeral before I drifted into torpor.”

  The thought of being buried alive made my skin crawl. At least Sebastian didn’t need to breathe. “I saw where you scratched the coffin.”

  He nodded. “When they removed the arrow and replaced it with the stake, I had a moment to try to escape. They were too fast. Supernaturally so.”

  “Yeah, Micah’s a God.”

  “That would explain it,” Sebastian said with a raised eyebrow. He started up the car. We drove for a while lost in our separate thoughts.

  “I’d thought you were with Blythe. Or a ghoul,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Once I fell asleep it wasn’t so bad.”

  Micah was still out there somewhere too. I was surprised he hadn’t made another move on me, actually. That thought made me nervous. He and Marge must be planning something.

  “Maybe it’s time to pay Marge a visit,” I said.

  I explained Marge’s connection to Micah. Sebastian got out his cell and called William to
ask him to look up Marge’s address on the coven list. Mine had gotten lost with a lot of my loose papers when the tree attacked my house. Sebastian’s copy was all the way back at his farm. “You have William on your speed dial?” I mouthed while Sebastian waited for William to find his copy.

  Sebastian shrugged. “He’s a good guy.”

  Did I detect a note of “and he’s cute too” in Sebastian’s voice? Sebastian had once tried to use his glamour on William. I’d had to break it up before Sebastian sunk his teeth into William’s neck. “William had better not be in your little black book,” I said.

  “He’s not; he’s on speed dial,” Sebastian said, his voice full of teasing.

  I smacked him in the arm playfully.

  “Driving,” Sebastian reminded me.

  A second later, we were on our way to Marge’s house. Streetlights began flickering to life. Tree frogs chirped a chorus of good-nights. Soon we reached Marge’s house. As we pulled up, I was surprised to find her sitting on a front porch swing, reading a book.

  She had one of those grand, wraparound porches on a stately, though clearly in need of minor repairs, Victorian. Paint peeled and blistered on slats, and here and there shakes had worked loose on the roof. Still, there were pots filled with flowers on the stairs, a neat lawn, and a pleasant garden filled with cheerful black-eyed Susans. My first impression of her place was much the same as it had been of her person—a little dumpy, but extremely comfortable looking.

  She looked up when the car door slammed shut. Clasping the book to her chest, Marge’s eyes were wild with fear. She stood up as though looking for a place to run.

  Sebastian did that creepy vampire thing and was at her side with his hands on her shoulders before I could say, “Stop her.”

  I blinked.

  “Uh, good. Thanks, Sebastian,” I said, as I made my way up the buckled wooden stairs.

  “I’m sorry,” Marge squealed. “It was wrong, I know that now, but . . . but it was like I was under some kind of spell. He’s so handsome and so charming, and yeah, okay, I’ve never had that kind of power and it seemed so tempting . . .” She cowered deeper as I came face to face with her. She put the book up between us like a shield. “Just don’t hurt me.”