The Necromancer's Reckoning (The Beacon Hill Sorcerer Book 3)

by SJ Himes

  For a second, Angel regretted he was jaded enough not to be as disturbed as everyone else was. He had actually seen worse once upon a time.

  The storage room wasn’t entirely submerged, there was a line of windows at ground level up near the ceiling. One of those windows, about a foot and a half tall and two feet wide was destroyed. Whatever went out the window was a lot bigger than the opening, and part of the wall and the corner where it met the ceiling was torn asunder, reduced to kindling and ruptured dryboard. The glass was gone, littering the floor, tiny red-stained stars shining out from the blood. There was a line of blood running down the wall underneath the window. Angel slowly made his way over and examined the remains of the wall. There were long groove marks in the cement walls, the white paint scraped away and the cement beneath bearing white lines and cracks. Something with claws and an oddly shaped body climbed up the wall and destroyed the window to escape.

  Angel straightened and called out to O’Malley. “Contact security again and have him check everywhere; every building, every dorm, every classroom. Something got out, and it’s hungry.”

  He didn’t even get a chance to finish speaking before O’Malley’s radio crackled, and hysterical voices started speaking in a jumbled mess. All Angel heard was there were more bodies and blood everywhere.

  Angel doubted the graverobbers had captured a creature. At least, not knowingly. There was no sign of a cage or a crate for a box that could hold a creature large enough to kill and maim four grown men, one of whom had been a practitioner. It was all too likely they had stolen something from a grave or mausoleum, not knowing what it was, and inadvertently freed something dangerous and insatiable.

  O’Malley was speaking on the radio, and Angel figured he would know what was going on soon enough. He had a good idea what happened in here. Angel slowly worked his way back across the room, holding Greyson’s cane up high enough to not touch the floor. Something tugged on his senses in the center of the room, and Angel paused. Next to his boot was a small object, shattered into multiple pieces. The inside of the curved object was smooth and white with a pearlescent sheen. The outside looked like a rough piece of carved stone, covered in dirt and dried moss. Angel reached down and grabbed a piece, running his thumb over the inside. Residual spellwork clung to the shard, old and simple, and realization chilled his blood.

  It was a broken reliquary. A prison for creatures of magic and curses, or the means to contain powerful, chaotic artifacts. This had housed the being before it killed everyone in this room.

  The outside of the shard bore runes etched into the stone, and when it broke, the spell was interrupted. Angel recognized the partial rune. He swore and clutched the reliquary shard so tightly in his hand, he felt it cut into his flesh. Angel moved with haste over the wreckage, heart thumping hard in his rib cage. He almost slipped next to the door and Simeon caught him, holding him on his feet. “Milly, O’Malley! Someone released a lich. It’s a fucking lich!”

  Milly stopped her impatient pacing and froze mid-step, eyes widening in horror. O’Malley interrupted himself mid sentence and looked at Angel in confusion. “What the hell is a lich? Like the thing you had on a leash earlier?”

  “Almost, but this is so much worse. The wendigo was under my control completely and I never let the spell reach completion. It would have become a lich if I let it kill and consume the essence of its victim, but even if I had, it would still have been mine leashed to my will. The thing that did this,” Angel said, and he gestured to the horrible wreckage behind him, “is a full lich, unrestrained, bound to no one’s will. An unbound lich killed these men, and it will keep killing until it is either trapped, bound, or destroyed. Destroying an unbound, full lich is a thousand times harder than what I did to the wendigo this morning.”

  O’Malley didn’t waste any time. “Campus security found blood in one of the dormitories nearby. Blood in the hallway and destruction that matches this room. They can hear screaming.”

  He tossed the cane to Milly, who caught it with a startled gasp, clutching it to her chest. She felt the spell immediately, and with a nod, she silently agreed to hold on to it for him. Angel gripped the reliquary shard in his hand and sprinted for the stairs.

  18

  Coed Chaos

  The fireplace may have been natural gas, but it gave off a comfortable heat that settled into Daniel’s bones. He relaxed into the extremely comfy armchair next to the fireplace, e-reader in hand. He just finished his book and was contemplating going to bed, but he was too comfortable to move. Simeon’s suite in the Tower was opulent and spread out. It was as different from Angel’s apartment as any two places could be, and while he appreciated the space, he missed his small room in Angel’s apartment. At Angel’s place he could let his guard down and not pretend to be okay all the time. Being back in the Tower was harder than he was letting on. He was so tired of being scared, so tired of being the wounded and broken person he had been all his life. He admired Angel, and while he didn’t want to be Angel, he envied his master’s sense of composure and confidence and strength. He couldn’t be as brash and bold as Angel, but he did wish he could have even just a portion of Angel’s strength.

  There was a knock at the door just before it opened, and Daniel sat up, nervously clutching his tablet. Batiste stood in the doorway, icy blue eyes searching until he found Daniel sitting next to the fireplace. The city master closed the door and walked silently across the room. Daniel unwound himself from the armchair and stood, a pit of nerves opening in his belly.

  “Sir? How can I help you?”

  Batiste stopped just out of arm’s reach. Daniel appreciated the space. The residual fear and discomfort he experienced around vampires was not as bad as it once was. Daniel liked Simeon and trusted him, and Batiste was nicer than Daniel first thought. It helped knowing his abuser was dead and Stellan was in jail, or at least the equivalent, it went a long way towards giving him peace.

  “Daniel, something has happened. I came to tell me you myself since I bear full responsibility.”

  The pit of nerves became a screaming void of fear. Somehow, he knew what Batiste was going to say. The city master nodded as if he could read Daniel’s mind. “Stellan has escaped. I do not know how or why, but his absence was discovered less than 10 minutes ago. Unfortunately, it looks like he has been gone from the Tower for at least a few hours. Possibly just after sunset. I have sent Elder Bridgerton, two of my unranked masters, and a squadron of my best soldiers to find him. He cannot get far. I have guards stationed outside in the hallway. I do not believe he has remained in the Tower, so this is merely a precaution.”

  “He escaped? How did he escape from the Tower?” Daniel all but shouted, fear raising his voice. Batiste took it without issue, accepting Daniel’s censure.

  “I do not know. I am attempting to find out now. I have notified Simeon and Angel, but I did not hear anything back from them. Something is happening at the college and I do not believe they received my texts. I have sent two of my soldiers to find them and tell them in person.”

  “He won’t come looking for me, right? He’d want to get away. I mean, that makes sense, right?”

  Batiste nodded. “I do not believe he will remain in the Tower. It is very likely he is attempting to leave the city and get out of my territory. I see no reason for him to stay as his sentence for his crimes is known to the whole bloodclan. None of my people would help him.”

  “Bridgerton didn’t agree with locking up Stellan. Bridgerton saw nothing wrong with what Stellan and Deimos did to me.” Daniel was amazed those words came out of his mouth, and he shut up immediately, worried he would anger the city master.

  Batiste went completely still as if made from ice and stone. It was a stillness no human could emulate. Icy blue eyes locked on to Daniel, and every instinct he possessed told him to run. He was a mouse trapped in front of a viper.

  Daniel jumped when Batiste spoke. “Stay in the suite and do not leave. I’ll add more guards to the doo
r. Do not leave.” Daniel didn’t even get a chance to respond before Batiste left the suite, moving so fast Daniel only saw the door open and shut. Daniel clutched his tablet to his chest and left the living room after he turned off the fire. The suite felt oppressive and full of shadows, and his heart was racing in his chest.

  Daniel open the door to the bedroom he was borrowing, stepped inside, and shut it before locking the door. He tossed the e-reader on the bed, went to the bathroom, and got ready to go to sleep. He crawled into a fresh set of pajamas, slid under the covers, and turned off the light. Eroch was asleep on the pillow next to his head, or at least he was, as the little dragon soon crept over the bed linens and snuggled beneath Daniel’s chin, making that sweet little churring noise so unique to him.

  It was silly, but he felt safe with Eroch. The dragon was just a baby, at least Daniel figured he was, considering the way he acted and his size. Dragons in history were the size of houses and could decimate whole armies, so Eroch was a baby. A mean, fierce, dangerous baby who clawed faces off and set bad guys on fire. And pigeons.

  Daniel chuckled and hugged the little dragon to him. He doubted he could sleep, but he didn’t want to pace and fidget and freak out all night long. Maybe when he woke up, Stellan would be back in custody and Angel would be home.

  The cheap carpet was floating in blood, squishing beneath his boots. What had once been a messy college dorm room was now a scene from a charnel house, complete with body parts. The stench of ruptured intestines coated the inside of his mouth and Angel fought his gag reflex, determined not vomit. It was horrible of him to even think it, but he was more affected seeing it was three unarmed, unsuspecting teenagers than the previous scene. The men in the storage room were older, and their idiocy and carelessness lead to their deaths and the deaths of the young women in this room. The body parts were familiar enough of a sight, but the gnaw marks on faces and extremities were new and confirmed his lich theory.

  The shard of the reliquary in his hand throbbed with his heartbeat. The lich was nearby but moving fast. It was after easy targets, and once they were dead, it moved on again.

  “Is it the lich thing?” O'Malley called from the hallway where the flood of body fluids stopped, and a whole group of armed police and campus security watched. Simeon was outside the building, trying to find where it went after it jumped out the window. The frame was busted out, the entire window shattered to dust in the grass two levels below.

  Angel swallowed back bile and took one last look. He turned as best he could, worried his boots would lose traction in the blood. He nodded to himself and sighed and answered the weary detective.

  “Yes. Alert as many people as you can. Guns and bullets can’t stop this thing. Any practitioners on campus are to get under shields and behind wards. Everyone. Students, professors, staff. Lock it all down. If the dorms and office buildings have defensive wards, activate them now. If the school has an emergency broadcast system, activate it now.” Angel ordered, voice rough. A campus security officer behind O’Malley pulled out a cell and made a phone call, speaking urgently.

  Students were crying out in the hallway. One, a young girl of maybe eighteen, sobbed as she spoke to a uniformed cop. “Janessa and Jennifer were studying with their door open. We heard a horrible scream next door, and my roommate Amanda ran to see what was going on. There was this huge roar, and then…and then….” The girl gagged, and Angel looked back to see her fall to her knees and throw up. The cop didn’t duck away, instead holding the girl’s hair as she sobbed.

  Angel turned back to the room and counted heads…or what he could guess were heads. Three bodies. Three dead girls.

  Angel left the room, pushing past everyone. “Angel! Where ya going?” O’Malley called after him.

  “I have a monster to catch!” Angel shouted back, jogging out of the building.

  He reached the front entrance and slammed out of the doors, noting the blood smears on the glass. Simeon stood about twenty feet away, the breeze ruffling his hair. “Any scents?”

  Simeon nodded. “Blood spoor is heavy in the air. It’s clouding the trail. I’ve sent my soldiers out in the areas it was likely to have headed. I have a strong fix on the blood spoor, but I am having trouble scenting the creature itself.”

  Angel searched the shadows, the trees and bushes dark where the golden lamps that lined the path couldn’t penetrate. “Would Scáth help?”

  Simeon, in answer, pulled the whistle from under his shirt. He blew, the call undetectable to human ears. Simeon dropped the whistle and chain under his shirt, and Angel jumped when something snuffled his hand. Scáth woofed at him, tail wagging, then went to his master. The hellhound was appearing faster each time.

  Simeon spoke to the hellhound in Irish Gaelic and it bounded away, nose down. Simeon and Angel jogged along behind the hellhound who led the way around the building. Scáth paused under the busted-out window then barked again before bolting away in a streak of hellfire green. Simeon ducked in, grabbing Angel off his feet and into his arms, before blurring away behind the beast.

  At least this time was warmer than their last supersonic sprint through downtown.

  Eroch lifted his head, nostrils flaring. A faint sound came from the front of the suite, the nearly soundless slide of the door over the fabric of the runner in the foyer. Eroch sat up and focused his hearing, blocking off the rhythmic, soft breathing of the human beneath him. The wounded youngling whimpered in his sleep, and Eroch churred, hoping to keep Daniel unaware of their danger for as long as possible. Predators were in the suite, and Daniel’s fear would whet their appetite.

  Eroch sniffed, arching his neck, opening his wings. Heat furled in his belly, and his eyesight sharpened. The lamp in the hall cast a thin line of light under the doorway, and Eroch bared his fangs when a shadow broke the light. He could hear a heartbeat, and the passing of air over cloth, the wind currents from the vents moving around two bodies that waited in the hall.

  Two heartbeats. Three people. One must be an undead hunter, and the other a human, and one stunk of magic. Eroch crawled to the end of the bed and flared his wings, hissing out a warning. Smoke curled out from his open mouth, and Eroch grew hotter, scales glowing along his throat and belly. Daniel stirred, wiping at his face. “Eroch?”

  The handle turned, the door opening. A vampire slunk into the room, the air around it cold, its passage soundless. The vampire was familiar, his stench masked by magic but not enough to blind Eroch’s senses. He saw through the magic to the mean vampire who hated his bondmate. The human who came in after the undead creature was quiet, but the beat of its heart signaled its appreciation of the hunt. The next human carried chains stinking of iron, and Eroch knew they were there for the youngling he guarded. One human smelled familiar as well, but Eroch had never been in his presence himself to match the scent to the human. The one that stunk of magic had an emblem on his jacket, metal and curved, and it reminded Eroch of the metal piece worn by the mean practitioner called the magister. This one was male, though, so Eroch did not know him.

  “Grab the boy,” the vampire ordered the humans. “I’ll handle the beast.” The vampire dug a length of cloth from its pocket, and it unfolded into a sack. Eroch flapped his wings in warning, hissing.

  Daniel sat up, his heart pounding, fear filling the air. The vampire chuckled, and Daniel whimpered, pushing back against the headboard. He reached out for his phone, fumbling for the device.

  The human without magic ignored Eroch’s warning and went for the boy. Eroch screamed and let loose a torrent of flame, pushing it out in a great swath that reached the door. The vampire dodged, and the human with the brooch ducked, smoke rising from his singed jacket. He drew another breath, intending to burn them all to ash. The vampire swooped in and swung the sack faster than Eroch could move. It settled over his head, fouling his wings. Eroch screamed again, twisting, lashing with his tail. He tried to burn the sack, but it smothered his flame, somehow preventing dragonfire from taking root. Eroch
could hear Daniel fighting, screaming, and magic rose and fell in chaotic bursts as the apprentice tried to defend himself, and the practitioner responded.

  “Get those chains on him!” The vampire yelled, closing the bag on Eroch as he screeched. “I’ve got the beast! Hurry up!”

  Eroch heard a fist hit flesh, and Daniel gasped in pain. Eroch yowled, clawing at the bag, trying to tear it apart, but it was spelled to withstand damage from claw and fire. Eroch fought harder, the vampire shaking the bag, swearing.

  Eroch grew even more frustrated and threw out caution, ignoring the warnings from his broodmother and his bonded mortal alike. He reached for the energy bond between him and Angel and opened the connection wide. The green magic that burned within Angel was available to Eroch with but a thought, and he let it fill him unchecked. He was a dragon—born in magic, made of it, and he could shape magic to his will, much like a practitioner could—he let the magic loose.

  Power filled his limbs from claw to wingtip, tail to snout, and fabric ripped. The vampire shouted, words indistinguishable under the building roar Eroch let loose as his expanding mass overwhelmed the protection spells on the sack. Wings burst free, his height rising, and his tail, now thicker than the vampire’s waist, snaked across the room, slamming into the window, heavy glass shattering. Wind tore into the room, and Eroch mantled his wings, dropping his head and screaming so loudly the human holding Daniel let go, slamming his hands over his ears.

  Daniel gaped in shock, and Eroch reached out a massive paw and pulled Daniel under his chest. Iron chains dangled from one of Daniel’s wrists, the other hanging free. The vampire hissed and tried to leap at Eroch, but he was faster, the magic he got from his bonded human increasing his reflexes. He snapped his jaws, catching the vampire by one of his legs, he shook his head, bones breaking beneath his jaws. The vampire screeched and the humans screamed. Eroch threw the vampire into the wall and let out a torrent of flame. The vampire screamed in pain and fury when the fire caught him in the chest.