The Dead (The Thaumaturge Series Book 1)

by Cal Matthews

  “Sorry. I’m sorry,” Leo said to me as I stood up. I spared him a glance. His face looked ruddy now, his lips full and red. His eyes fixed on me with burning intensity, a little wild with blood lust. He swayed towards me and for one second I thought that he was going to kiss me, there in JJ's parking lot with the girl dazed at our feet. I would have let him; that's what he did to me.

  “It’s fine,” I said, and he blinked, like I had surprised him. “Get her back up.”

  “Ebron, I’m really –”

  “Shut up. Grab her legs.”

  He bent, scooping her up a though she were weightless and settled her sidewise into the driver's seat. The girl moaned, her head rolling on her neck. She blinked, looking uncertainly at us.

  “You should go find your friends.” I said to her, in what I hoped was a comforting voice. “I think you need a ride home.” She nodded sluggishly, her hands reaching up to pull her coat tighter around herself.

  “Go back inside,” I repeated to her, turning off her car and pressing the key into her hand. She nodded again. There was a touch on my back and I turned as Leo slid one hand along my shoulder and gave me a tug.

  “Come on,” he said softly. I looked back as he led me out of the parking lot. She hadn't moved.

  Leo avoided my eyes as we walked through the falling snow.

  “Thanks,” he said stiffly, after half a block in silence.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I’m getting better, don’t you think?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I agreed. “Comparatively, you are much improved.”

  “Just takes practice,” he said, and I couldn’t help the shiver down my spine.

  Chapter Three

  “Are you staying tonight?” I asked Leo as he followed me through the front door.

  “Yes,” he said. He was himself again, collected and distant. “Too cold to go anywhere. And I want to watch more Breaking Bad.”

  “Are you staying . . .for a while?” Like I didn't care one way or the other.

  Leo had been known to stay for weeks or even months at a time, then disappear without a word. Despite that, he was the most constant person in my life. Person. Vampire. Whatever. He was the only one who had ever stuck by me.

  “Thought I might,” he replied casually, kicking his boots together on the doormat and toeing them off. I felt something in my chest relax a bit at his answer, my shoulders easing from where they'd been hunched up by my ears. He wasn't looking at me, so I let out a small, relieved sigh before schooling my mouth into a disinterested line.

  “Well, you’re welcome to it,” I said, indicating my lumpy couch, ignoring the fact that come morning, he would be holed up in the closet in the spare bedroom, safe from any pesky sun rays. “I've got to eat something and get some sleep.”

  I expected him to make for the couch, but instead he wandered into the kitchen behind me and watched as I rummaged in the fridge for leftovers. His eyebrows went up into his hairline as he noticed the bottle of vodka and I shook my head, shoving it aside. Finding a carton of chow mein, I popped it in the microwave and turned back to face him. Johnny twirled joyfully between us, and I caught his furry head in my hands and kissed his nose.

  “You feeling okay?” Leo asked casually. “Headache?”

  “I’m all right,” I said. “I just need to eat something.”

  He nodded, but he didn’t look convinced.

  “What?” I asked. He didn’t answer right away and I looked into the microwave, watching as the little white carton slowly revolved in circles.

  “Five years ago you would have been flat on your back with a migraine,” he said finally. “You’re getting stronger.”

  I shrugged. “It’s been a while since I did anything.”

  “Still. You did a full resurrection earlier and then healed that girl for me. I’m just saying. Even a year ago, you would have been feeling it.”

  “I am feeling it,” I said with a flash of annoyance. The low-grade headache I’d been nursing was dulled by alcohol and adrenaline, but hadn’t gone away, still thumping in my temples. “Like I said, it’s been months since I resurrected anyone.”

  “You’ve been conserving energy?” he asked, a little sardonically and I scowled. He noticed and put a mollifying hand.

  “Hey,” he said softly. “I’m not picking on you. I’m just pointing out the obvious. There’s still a lot we don’t know. Can you conserve it? Could you stockpile your power and then be able to resurrect ten people?”

  “I have no idea,” I said. “And no, I don’t want to practice. Don’t show up with ten dead bodies, Leo. Seriously.”

  He heaved a sigh and looked away. I opened the microwave door to poke at the food with a fork.

  “I’m just saying –” he started.

  “It’s just that –” I said, at the same time, and we looked at each. He raised his eyebrows.

  “Okay, maybe,” I snapped. I raked my hand over my eyes. “Maybe it’s getting easier. I don’t know; it’s hard to compare. Maybe I just know what to do now.”

  He nodded, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, a very human motion that I suspected he did for my benefit.

  “You need to understand your limits,” he told me, gentle but firm. “I can get you a pile of dead animals to practice on, but humans are the real challenge and unless there’s a convenient massacre, we’re just guessing.”

  “I know,” I said back, my voice raising. “You’ve been telling me this for years. I’m not going to overdo it, I’ll be fine. Okay?”

  “I know you will be,” he said and he leaned towards me, the hardness leaving his face. “I just worry.”

  That made some of my irritation chip off and fall away and I gave him a small, close-mouth smile. “I appreciate that,” I said. “I do. But I can take care of myself.”

  He nodded, his eyes firm on my face. I shoved a forkful of greasy noodles into my mouth.

  “Got plans for the week?” he asked after a while.

  I appreciated the blatant attempt to change the subject. “Just work tomorrow,” I said. “Then on Friday I’m going to have dinner at my mom’s. Saturday I’m going hunting. Why?”

  He shrugged. “No reason. Just wondering if you are going to be around.”

  “No house parties, Leo.”

  “I just wanted to try again sometime this weekend. If you’re up for it.”

  It was my turn to shrug, though I did so with hesitation.

  “All right,” I said reluctantly. “Just, not JJ’s. We’ll go somewhere else. JJ’s is too close to home.”

  “I’m getting better,” he said, a little defensively.

  “I know,” I replied. “It’s just so risky.”

  “Not when you’re with me.” Something in his expression eased, and Leo stepped up to me, sliding his arms over my shoulders and joining his hands behind my neck. My heart leapt and started pounding. I shifted uncomfortably, but didn’t move away.

  “It’s always risky,” I protested. “Something could go wrong.”

  “Hasn't yet,” he said, tightening his arms around me and resting his chin on my shoulder. I fumbled with the carton of food, shoving it at the counter so that I could put my hands on his hips. I tried to hold him away from me but the sharp points of his hipbones pressed against my thumbs and my stomach fluttered with nerves. The nearness of him made other parts of me wake up and pay attention.

  “Leo –” I said.

  “What?” he played dumb, turning his head to nuzzle at my neck. His lips touched my skin and all my insides went to butter. My grip on his hips faltered. He took the opportunity to move closer, pressing his chest against mine. The girl’s stolen blood flushed his skin and even through my shirt his body felt warm. His lips trailed down my neck and he stroked my back, scratching a little on my shoulder blades where he knew I liked it.

  “I've been missing you,” he murmured into my neck. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

  I swallowed heavily. Those words,
of course, exactly what I wanted to hear, and all the bruised, scratched up parts of me felt suddenly soothed. I could feel the shabby layers of protection I had built up around my heart flake away, brushed aside just from one touch.

  “Sure,” I said, letting my hands roam from his hips to his ass and giving him a tentative squeeze. Leo growled low in his throat and for just a second his fangs rested on my skin. I drew back to look him in the eyes.

  “Behave,” I said warningly.

  “I am,” he snapped back, and pulled me down for a bruising kiss. I struggled, breaking the kiss and turning my head away. Grimacing, I wiped at my mouth with my sleeve.

  “Go brush your teeth,” I said to him. “You taste like blood.”

  He shrugged, and started back into the living room. “I don’t know how you – of all people – can be so uptight about blood,” he said to me over his shoulder. “Get some perspective, Ebron.”

  I just shook my head, grabbing my dinner and retreating back into my bedroom to eat alone.

  Leo knocked on my bedroom door an hour later, and slipped in before I could say anything. I sat propped up in bed with a book on my knees, my reading light a warm golden glow. Johnny’s tail began to thumb at the sight of Leo, and I put my hand on his side to give him a gentle shove.

  “Out, Johnny,” I told him, and he looked at me mournfully for a second, before jumping off the bed and slinking off into the hall.

  Leo dropped his towel and I inhaled the scent of soap and shampoo. He pulled back the covers and slid in, pressing his still-damp body against mine. I hummed in pleasure, his body warm and heavy and familiar as he molded himself to me.

  “Sorry about that,” he said softly, resting his head on my chest and throwing one leg over mine. I put my nose into his tangles of wet curls and smelled deep. I breathed in - body wash, yes, and clean skin, but under that I could detect the particular cold-fur smell that Leo always had.

  “It’s fine.”

  “You want me to go?”

  “No. C’mere. I missed you, too.” I pulled him closer, maybe a little too eagerly, and kissed the ball of his shoulder. I slid my hand around his smooth, warm, back and curved my fingers around his ribs. The heavy pile of blankets on top of us held in the warmth and together our bodies created a pocket of humid heat. My sheets grew damp from his shower-fresh skin. His hair left patterns on my pillow. His mouth moved against my chest, and he slowly let his hand stray down my stomach to pluck at the string of my pajama pants.

  I didn’t stop him.

  I took him into my arms and kissed him, nudging his mouth open with mine and letting our tongues melt together. My heart spiked at the taste of him, my hips bucking forward. I gripped him close, hungry for his touch. It had been months since I’d seen him last.

  We kissed gently at first, carefully, as I was ever mindful of the fangs just there. He had never bitten me, had long been forbidden from doing so, but I knew that it tested his hard-won self-control. Sometimes I could feel him restraining himself, could feel him battling against his instinct to tear me apart. More than once, I had opened my eyes during sex and seen him staring at me with pure animal hunger.

  Leo urged me back onto the bed, pushing me down and letting his mouth wander to my neck. My heart slingshotted around inside my chest, and for just a second, he put his hand there, right over the thumping beat, and pressed gently. I gripped his shoulders, feeling hard, tight, muscle and tugged him closer. He complied, covering me completely, his larger body pinning me to the bed.

  I thrust my hips up at him as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot on my throat, and I felt his lips open into a smile. He headed south, and his teeth grazed my nipple, making me shiver into goose bumps. The nibbles became kisses, his tongue moving across my chest until I squirmed. He lingered on the tender skin along my ribs, teasing me to aching hardness. I stretched under his ministrations, letting out a little contented sigh and he grinned up at me from under his eyelashes.

  “Don’t be cute,” I said to him, closing my eyes. My heart pinched painfully when he looked at me like that.

  He chuckled and slid over me like a snake, nestling in between my legs and trailing kisses down my breastbone to my stomach.

  “I expect reciprocation,” he told me as he tugged my pants down. I nodded helplessly, his breath ghosting over the thin skin on my hip. When he took me into his mouth, I gasped, arching off the bed and tangling my fingers in his damp hair.

  He sucked me down to the root and it was almost too much, all at once, after so many months of mechanically jerking off. His tongue spread out over the base of my cock and I made a high-pitched keen, releasing his hair and knotting my fingers into the sheets. My hips wanted to buck forward, and my stomach wanted stroking, but I bit my lip to anchor myself. Leo nudged my thighs open, pressed his thumbs against either side of my cock and worked into a slow, leisurely rhythm. I glanced down once to see his gold flecked eyes staring back at me. We locked eyes for one, two, three long strokes of his tongue and I let my head fall back down.

  I didn’t take me long, as wound up as I was, and I clutched at his arm in warning. He moaned some muffled encouragement back to me, and I came into his mouth with a long, harsh gasp. I always could lose myself at the touch of his tongue.

  He worked his mouth lazily for another minute, making me shudder, making my legs tremble. Then he crawled up next to me, pressed his mouth to mine, giving me a deep, sloppy, kiss. With a sigh, he curled next to me, tucking his head under my chin. Another thing about him that I appreciated - Leo was an unabashed cuddler.

  For a minute we lay in companionable silence. I stroked the long curve of his back, and he traced the pads of his fingers down the center of my chest. He rocked his erection against my thigh with no real urgency, but I could feel the tension in his shoulders.

  I kissed the top of his head. “What do you want?”

  “Oh, I get options tonight?” he replied, giving me a slow smile.

  “Sure, why not?” I smiled back, and pressed another affectionate kiss into his hair.

  “In that case...” he moved back over me, pressing between my knees and bracing his arms on either side of my head. I obligingly tilted my tailbone up to hold him in the cradle of my hips.

  “I want –” he said, leaning down to kiss me. “To fuck you. I want you to let me fuck you.”

  “Okay,” I said, and he raised one eyebrow. I didn't always agree to that; it felt too much like what I really wanted from him. Felt less like getting off together and more like . . . something else.

  “Mmm.” he kissed me again, groaning a little, his fangs hard against my mouth. My stomach clenched at the unexpectedly erotic sensation.

  “Leo . . .” I said quietly and he gave me a sheepish smile.

  “Sorry,” he said and breathed out in a long huff. “I wish I could bite you. I wish I could bite you while I fuck you.”

  “Last I checked there's no one waiting around to bring me back to life.”

  I had watched him bite a hundred people or more; it’s not that I didn’t know it would feel good. But I’d also seen him rip out people's throats when he got too lost in the bloodlust and that wasn’t going to be me.

  “I could just... take you,” he said mildly. ‘You couldn’t stop me.”

  “I know.”

  “I want to sometimes, you know, Ebron? Sometimes I want to rip your throat out.”

  “Sometimes I want that too, Leo.”

  That made him smile, and leaned across me to rummage in my bedside table.

  “Where’s the lube?” he asked.

  “Wherever you put it last.”

  “Really?” he cocked an eyebrow at me. “Still keeping yourself pure for me?”

  “Once you go fang –” I trailed off, but the self-loathing and embarrassment were hard to swallow.

  He chuckled, though, and shoved his arm between the bed and the night stand, finally fishing out the mostly empty tube and squeezing some onto his fingers.

 
“Seriously though,” he said, pressing one finger between my ass cheeks. “I never smell anyone else on your sheets. You should go on a date, or something, Ebron. Do people still date?”

  “Not since the early nineties, I think,” I said, gasping a little as he fingered me roughly. “Jesus, take it easy, man. It’s been a while.”

  “Sorry.” he pressed an apologetic kiss to the inside of my thigh, making me shiver, and withdrew his finger to add more lube. This time when he touched me, he was almost tender, glancing up at me to gauge my response. When I nodded, he gave his fingers a twist, coating my insides.

  I watched him, not at all liking the conflicting feelings building up inside me. Just the sight of him made my chest tight, after all the months of lonely solitude. I was so fucking happy to see him. That was the whole reason I tried to not sleep with him every time he was in town – when he left it was always that much harder. There was a time, years ago, that I would ask him to stay. Beg him, even, with ugly, pleading tears. That time was long past now.

  “Okay?” he asked, pushing my legs back against my chest and positioning himself against me. I scooted lower, hooking one leg around his waist. The sight of him above me, with lust in his eyes, made my stomach clench into a fist, and I turned my head to the side, not wanting my eyes to betray me.

  He pressed in, slowly at first, and I hissed at the burn and bit my lip. I was out of practice and it hurt. I tried to breathe it out, to force myself to relax, to associate the stretch with something sexual. I felt as tightly wound as a guitar string, my body thrumming with nerves. Above me, Leo closed his eyes, his mouth hanging open. He gave a low groan, and thrust his hips a little harder, all gentleness forgotten. I winced a little, the pain cramping my guts.

  “Fuck, Ebron,” he moaned. “I always forget how fucking tight you are. Forget what I said. I don’t want to share you.”

  There was no possible response; I made an inarticulate noise and clutched at his forearms, still bracketing my head. A thread of bitterness pulled tight at his words, at the reminder that though I had no one else, I didn’t really have him either. It was sex, I reminded myself, same as it had been for the last few years. We were fuck buddies. Friends with benefits. Nothing had changed.