The Necromancer's Smile

by Lisa Oliver

  “By being silent? It’s better than putting your foot in it all the time.” Connor didn’t seem to be making much progress with washing the floor, but at least he wasn’t crying.

  “Look what happened at the morgue.” Dakar knew he was onto something and Connor made the perfect sounding board. “Brad arrested Sy; put him in cuffs and took him away from me. I did nothing. My wolf was all about coming out, tearing strips off Brad, standing there and growling at anyone who’d dare touch my precious mate. But, dying as I was from the biggest case of blue balls I’d ever had just from being in the room with Sy, I’d suppressed my wolf, so we didn’t go jumping him in his fancy necromancer duds. By the time my brain caught up, it was like…duh…the cuffs were already on and Sy was gone, and then he was gone and oh, fucking hell.” Dakar slapped his head.

  “Something else you’d forgotten?”

  “There are five police officers staking out the house. They’ve been there since seven thirty. I guess we were waiting for you, was it, to drop the wards and unlock the doors?”

  “Yeah, well at the time I didn’t think I had any choice.” Connor stabbed the mop back in the bucket. “I haven’t got a clue what’s going to happen to me now.”

  Dakar upturned an empty bucket and sat on it. “In my ideal world, Brock or preferably Sy would’ve overheard my confession to you just before and realized that I’m actually a worthy partner for Sy. That I will protect him, and I’ll come to love him if we could spend more than five minutes alone for a change. My wolf would’ve let me know he was watching me. I’d look up and he’d be standing there in the doorway like a pocket-angel in black.” Dakar waved his arm to indicate the empty doorway.

  “Our eyes would zero in on each other instantly. There’d be that long, poignant pause. I’d be holding my breath, watching his gorgeous face; mesmerized and struggling to believe he actually came looking for me. We’d both move at the same time, slamming our bodies together in the middle of the room. I’d smother his face in kisses, licking away any tears. He’d be half laughing, half crying and oh my god, our hands wouldn’t be able to touch each other quick enough.”

  “He’d be all understanding. I’d be all alpha and horny,” Dakar sighed. “It’s one thing I am good at. And then, when we finally had to breathe, we’d swear undying love to each other. But this time, when the movie or the page faded to black, for us the adventure would just be beginning. We’d spend at least a week never getting out of bed. Hot sexy mating times for both of us and by the time we finally faced the world again, misunderstandings would be a thing of the past because we’d be so in tune with each other.”

  Dakar shook his head at the empty doorway. “At least that’s what happens in the movies and romance novels. No chance of that here.” Glancing up at the ceiling, Dakar imagined Sy in his bed two floors above him. “With the poor showing I’ve been giving Sy and Brock since we met, I’ll be freaking lucky if they allow me an hour appointment once a week to see him.”

  “You’re mated.” Dakar had forgotten for a moment Connor was even there. “At least you have the chance of being with someone for the rest of your life. You need to grovel, lots. Buy him things, hug him a lot and most of all talk to him. Tell him what you told me. It all sounded like pretty powerful stuff to me; the sort of thing any significant other would want to hear.”

  “Well, it’s not as though I won’t have the time to do all these things,” Dakar sighed. “I quit my job before I shifted and started howling for Sy’s attention this evening. I didn’t realize he was trying to summon the Captain at the time and needed to focus on what he was doing. Brock wasn’t impressed with me. I’ve got a lot to learn about magic.”

  “I’d be happy to answer your questions,” Connor grimaced. “However, from what I’ve learned over the past few days, I think my schooling in the magic department was a little skewed. I’m hoping the necromancer might take pity on me and let me stick around for a while.”

  “After you were going to let him get captured?”

  “You let him get arrested, after you’d claimed him as a mate,” Connor shot back.

  “Yeah, yes, I did. And hopefully my mistakes can be forgiven once I’ve explained to Sy how much he means to me.” Dakar stood in one fluid movement, his fingers hooked on the waistband of his sweats.

  “I’m not giving you a blow job.” Connor leaned away.

  “I’m shifting, you nit-wit. I’ve finally worked out where I’m going wrong with the mating.”

  “I thought you already explained all that in your overly dramatic monologue I just listened to.”

  “I meant every word I told you, but sometimes life is simpler than that. We need to be together, Sy and I. We’re going to be glued at the hip; I don’t want him to ever be out of my sight again. That way, I’ll stop being such a klutz around him. Me and my wolf will get used to his power and we will be the best alpha wolf mate he could ever have. And we’ll get a chance to really get to know each other.”

  “Once he’s woken up,” Connor reminded him. “That could take a few days. I’ve never seen anyone wield that much power and not fade away. If you hadn’t been around, Baltoc would have pushed the necromancer over the other side of the veil and made sure he had no way back. That’s been his plan all along, I’m sure. If the necromancer was blocked from contacting Brock, then the demon planned to use Brock to heal his brother and he would’ve planned to take the necromancer’s power for himself.”

  “Which he couldn’t do because it goes against the laws of magic, nature, life, the Fates, or whatever.” Dakar was learning, and he did listen to Sy. “No matter who you believe the demon couldn’t use Sy’s power for his own purposes.”

  “He can’t now,” Connor agreed. “He’s dead and that’s not a common thing for a demon to be. The Necromancer had the veil wide open when he zapped the demon for that last time. The demon’s soul is trapped behind the veil and with nothing but dust left of him on this side, the demon is officially as dead as someone who can’t die can be.”

  “Gods, this is all so confusing.” Dakar dragged his toe through some dust left on the floor. Demon debris? “Give me the mop,” he ordered, determined to give the floor another wash. “Go and find us something to eat from the kitchen.”

  “I thought you were going to shift and spend time with your mate?”

  “I was, but now I’m worried freaking sick that some of these dust modules will somehow find a way to meld back together to give Baltoc’s soul something to come back from the veil too.”

  “I’ll grab another mop,” Connor sprinted to the hall cupboard that contained all the cleaning supplies.

  “I told you to get food,” Dakar called out swinging the mop head from side to side across the floor.

  “We both need to learn more about this sort of stuff. I’ve got visions now of Baltoc’s body coming back together in tiny globs that get bigger as more balls come together, and then more and then more, like a type of revenge of the dust bunnies’ scenario.”

  “That’s why you should always clean under the bed. The more dust bunnies there are, the more chance you have of it happening.”

  Connor came back in with a dry mop and started moving behind Dakar as he washed over the whole floor, using plenty of water. It was probably five minutes before Connor asked, “do you think the Necromancer will give us both a chance?”

  “If he doesn’t, we can probably start our own commercial cleaning company.” Dakar surveyed the floor. Not one speck of dust could be seen. “Come on, young one; food and bed for you; food and cuddling with my mate for me. First one awake makes breakfast. Deal?”

  “How do you like your eggs?” It was tiny, Connor’s smile, but it gave Dakar hope for some reason.

  As they climbed the stairs from the basement to the living areas, Dakar accepted he’d fucked things up pretty much from day one. He’d actually done the one thing Sy used to complain about. Dakar had treated Sy like a necromancer instead of a man who was his mate. That’s why his
wolf was in a tizzy all the time. That’s why he could never get his brain to work. As a Necromancer, Sy was just that powerful.

  But Sy was also a man. A man who stood in front of a rampaging demon, while denizens from hell threatened the whole town’s existence. No, damn it. Don’t think like that. That’s what stuffs you up every time.

  Think cute little mate Sy, who’s had a rough day at work and deserves a hot bath, a warm bed and a strong cuddle. Yeah, Dakar could see that line of thinking working. Maybe a foot rub, a bit of a blow job…I could get my dick….

  “You can cut out that line of thinking; those sweats don’t hide anything,” Connor pointed to where the lump of Dakar’s erection was growing down his leg behind the material. “I think I preferred it when you were worrying about Baltoc’s body reforming.”

  Thanks a lot for ruining my buzz, kid, Dakar scowled.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Sy was woken by whispering voices. Brock and Dakar. I’m in bed – that’s a positive. He wiggled his hands and toes slightly. I can still feel my extremities, so they are all there. His stomach gurgled. And I’m hungry. He pinched his thigh, hidden by the blankets. I’m not skin and bone so I haven’t faded. Score one for me.

  It was unusual for Brock not to have noticed he was awake, although this wasn’t the first time Sy had crawled into awareness since his battle royal with Baltoc. Each time he’d come to, he felt the heat of a wolf laying against his back. It was a comforting sensation Sy knew he could get used to. At one point he had fur up his nose and realized he’d buried his face between Dakar’s shoulders. A sneeze and a roll, and Sy was asleep again with a fur free nose.

  Dakar’s voice got louder. “I really don’t care how many times that bear leaves me a message to call him. I quit the police department. That’s why I was howling outside your wards making a fool of myself. Because I believe in Sy and maybe I haven’t been quick enough to show it at times, but I don’t see the point in listening to anything Brad has to say.”

  “Detective Summerfield has his reasons for the way he behaved.”

  “And I’m glad those reasons make sense to you. You can give him a shoulder to cry on. Lord knows they are big enough. But my first focus is Sy. And then it’s Sy and after that it’s Sy again.”

  “That is as it should be.”

  Sy grinned into the pillows. Brock was warming up to his mate.

  “Nevertheless,” Brock went on, “all the Pedace Police department knows at this stage, is that the Captain disappeared along with his PA in the middle of a ferocious storm that sprung up out of nowhere. You were magicked through our wards. Brad and the others froze their tails off until daylight hoping you’d reappear. I realize you find it difficult to believe, but Detective Summerfield is concerned for your well-being.”

  “I’m not leaving Sy.” Sy felt the mattress move and then a large weight settled against his back. “I will discuss how he wants to handle this situation with him, when he wakes up.”

  “Sir is already awake.” Damn it. Sy heard Brock’s measured steps along the floor. “Eavesdropping is not polite, sir. Did you want a meal in bed, or shall I serve food for both of you in the small dining hall?”

  Pulling his face out of the pillows, Sy brushed back his curls with his hand as he yawned. “How long was I out this time?” His throat was rough with lack of use.

  “Four days, sir, and there have been developments you should be aware of,” Brock replied. “Most notable is that annoying journalist, Clive is calling repeatedly for an interview. He’s investigating the disappearance of the Pedace Police Captain. Likewise, Detective Summerfield also wishes to take a statement from you and your mate. I explained to both men you were indisposed however they are equally persistent.”

  “Sy needs to eat,” Dakar growled, “and then he and I will require time alone to work on our bond. It’s about time our mating took some precedence here. I plan on taking him out to dinner this evening and I’ll shoot anyone who tries to stop me this time.” A heated hand rested heavily on Sy’s thigh.

  “What time is it?” Brock hadn’t opened the curtains and Sy had no idea what time of day it was.

  “Seven forty-five in the morning, Sir.”

  “We’re having breakfast then. That’s good. It’s decidedly disorientating if I wake in the middle of the day.” Sy thought quickly. He felt a lot better than he had a right to, but his stomach was empty, and his bladder was full. “Dakar and I will get up for our meal and have it in the small sitting room where we had our first date. I haven’t finished,” he added as Dakar whined in protest. “Please inform Detective Summerfield he can meet us for breakfast tomorrow morning and conduct his interviews with us then. Contact the paper this journalist is affiliated with and find out what he’s angling for. No media organizations have been interested in me before. Find out what changed if you please.”

  “Yes sir. Shall I run you a bath?”

  “Not right now, no, thank you. I do need to use the facilities, and I doubt I’ll hear anything my mate has to say over the rumbling of my stomach. We’ll take care of that first. Dakar, please put some clothes on. I assure you, after breakfast Brock will leave us in peace unless something urgent comes up. We have a lot of catching up to do, in bed and out of it.” Peeking over his shoulder, Sy’s eyes widened at the heat in his mate’s expression. Suddenly daring, he winked; something he’d never done to another person before.

  Dakar’s lust filled growl had him scrambling out of bed. “I need the bathroom first,” he called back over his shoulder. “You try going four days without peeing.”

  Slamming the bathroom door shut, Sy leaned on it and chuckled quietly. Hearing what Dakar said to Brock about him being his mate’s new focus, gave Sy renewed hope that they could make things work. Admittedly, the detective had said similar things in the past but maybe what they both needed was to get to know each other better and spend time together. As he wandered over to the toilet and did what he had to do, Sy hoped Dakar didn’t plan on talking too much about their last two weeks. By his recollection, it was Friday; his regularly scheduled masturbation day, although his dick had no idea how to tell time. From Dakar’s expression, Sy felt it was safe to assume his hardening dick would get all the attention it needed and with any luck, before the regularly scheduled ten pm.

  /~/~/~/~/

  “Are you allergic to anything?” Sy looked up from the sheet of paper he was reading from and frowned. “I don’t know why you’re laughing. Brock printed this out as a guide to help us get to know each other. The answers could be important.”

  “It sounds like he’s copied it from a random magazine site online.” Dakar wiped the grin off his face. Leaning his elbows on the table, he rested his chin on them. “I’m a shifter, Sy, I’m not allergic to anything but silver and wolfsbane.”

  “Handy to know.” Sy had an endearing habit of biting the tip of his tongue when he was writing. “Next question. What’s your favorite movie?”

  “Hang on,” Dakar said quickly, shaking his head. “This is us getting to know each other; not just you learning things about me. Are you allergic to anything?”

  “I doubt it. Necromancers don’t ever get sick.” Sy frowned. “I won’t eat asparagus, tinned meat, or sour hard-boiled sweets. Does that count?”

  “Great.” Dakar beamed. As much as he’d far rather be doing sexy things with his mate, he had to admit this was fun. His breakfast, that included steak and strong coffee was digesting nicely. The cool winter sun was streaming across the table illuminating his necromancer’s smile. And best of all, he had Sy’s attention. His wolf was preening. “My favorite movie is Lethal Weapon. Any one of them would count as an answer.”

  “There’s more than one?” Sy wrote the answer down, then scratched his nose with the end of his pen. “I can’t remember the last time I watched a movie. Can I ask Brock and get back to you on that one?”

  Leaning over the table, Dakar squeezed Sy’s hand. “Babe, if you have to ask someone else, then
it’s not your favorite. Mark that down as something we can explore together.”

  “Good idea. Okay,” Sy scanned his piece of paper and Dakar got the impression his mate was skipping some of the questions.

  “You know you can ask me anything, right?” He prodded gently. “Mate’s don’t have secrets from each other.”

  Sy’s cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink that contrasted beautifully with the gray of his eyes. “I’m just not sure I feel right about asking some of these things. Like what’s your go-to Karaoke song?” He looked up from the piece of paper. “What on earth is Karaoke? Is it a kind of special cult, club or musical genre I don’t know about? And then there’s this other one; how do you feel about PDA? I’m not sure what PDA stands for either. It sounds like something associated with an accounting firm and I know some people don’t like talking about money. I could be insulting you by even asking the question.”

  “Let’s make a mutual decision that neither one of us answer the karaoke question.” Dakar shivered dramatically and Sy laughed. “Karaoke is where you go to a club and random people get up on stage and sing along to covers from music they like. From my experience, the more drunk the singer gets the more they think they can really sound just like the artist they’re pretending to be. Admittedly, some of them have amazing voices, but I’m not one of them. I won’t go to places like that because I hate being dragged up on the stage by well-meaning friends who think I should just ‘try it’.”

  “No karaoke. Right. PDA? Is this to do with money? Do you need a copy of my bank statements? I assure you I’m financially well situated. I have extensive investments and….”