The Crystal Lake

Home > Other > The Crystal Lake > Page 14
The Crystal Lake Page 14

by L. J. LaBarthe


  “Lovely,” Riley said. “Thank you, Liam.”

  “Hey, you’re welcome,” Liam said.

  “Can we get back to the job?” Declan demanded. “C’mon, Necromancer, do your thing.”

  Liam huffed. “Have you got the gear?”

  “This conversation has suddenly taken a disturbing turn toward sounding like a drug deal,” Baxter said.

  Liam burst out laughing again.

  Declan rolled his eyes. “Did we really have to bring him along?”

  “Yeah. He’s fun.”

  Declan muttered something under his breath and picked up the carryall that lay on the ground. “Here, Liam.”

  “Thanks.” Liam began to rummage around in it, pulling out two small bottles, a jar, and two cloth pouches with faded embroidery on them, depicting runes of protection.

  “Are you making weird dead-people tea?” Baxter asked.

  “Something like that.” Liam sat down on the grass. “You guys stand back a bit. I need some room. Dec, circle me, bro.”

  “On it.” Declan pulled a jar of white powder from the carryall and began to walk around Liam, pouring the powder in a circle.

  “What’s that?” Riley asked.

  “Salt and chalk powder,” Declan said. When he was finished, he sealed the jar and handed it to Liam, who put it back in the carryall. “Good to go.”

  “Thanks.” Liam dug a small hole in the ground and began to pour in the contents of the jar, bottles, and pouches. When he was finished, he sealed them up, put them away, and dug out a dagger with a long blade. He mixed the ingredients in the hole, muttering in Latin as he did so, and then he wiped the blade of the dagger on his jeans. Then he sliced open the palm of his left hand. Holding it out above the hole, palm down, blood dripping into the herb mixture, Liam took a deep breath.

  “Speak with me,” he said. “I compel you to speak with me. Rise, oh ye dead, and speak with me.”

  Smoke poured from the mixture in the hole in front of Liam, and he held his breath as it dissipated. Once it had cleared, Liam let out a soft and fervent, “Thank God,” for standing in front of his circle were three ghosts.

  They were old, dressed in clothing from the seventeenth century, he guessed. Not that historical clothing was something he knew a lot about. But the man wore a suit with a cravat of the style that Liam remembered seeing in etchings in his old Dickens novels, and one of the ladies, a starched cap and apron that suggested she had been a maid. The other lady wore an elegant gown and delicate lace gloves. All three stared at him, silent and still.

  “Thank you,” Liam said, inclining his head politely.

  “You gave us little choice, Necromancer,” the man said.

  “I know, and I’m sorry. All the others are running away from me.”

  “They are frightened.” The man shook his head.

  “Yes, I got that. But why? I’m not going to hurt them.”

  “Not you, perhaps,” said the woman, “but the one who killed her own sister will.”

  Liam sat up straight. “Naamah?”

  “Yes.” The man sneered at the name. “She is seeking out the dead and either destroying us or recruiting us. Most of us do not wish to be destroyed or recruited, so we flee.”

  “Pardon, m’lord,” said the serving girl, bobbing a curtsey, “she can follow your trail because of your magic.”

  Liam gaped at her. “What?”

  “It’s true.” The man sighed. “She has managed to work out how to follow the paths of all the Necromancers in the world, and it is known that you are the most powerful and the most sympathetic to the dead. You must speak to the Archangels, young Necromancer. You need protection.”

  “I will,” Liam promised. “Is that why the Necromancer called Saadi is having the same problems?”

  The man nodded. “It is. If you were to seek out others with your gifts, it would be the same everywhere.”

  “Can we do anything?” Liam was horrified. “You’re already dead. You have the right to exist as you choose, whether you want to go on to the afterlife or stay here as ghosts and spirits. You have the right to choose!”

  The elegant woman smiled at him, and he smiled a little shyly back.

  “You’re a good man, young sir,” she said. “I do not think you can do anything.”

  “Except kill the evil one, m’lord,” said the servant.

  Liam chuckled at that. “Oh, that’s a guaranteed. She’s going down. One way or the other.”

  The ghosts smiled. “We dare not linger,” the man said. “I hope you will not compel us to.”

  Liam shook his head. “No, not at all. I release you to go as you choose.”

  The women curtseyed to him and the man bowed. “Thank you, m’lord,” said the serving girl.

  “I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you don’t come to any harm,” Liam said.

  “Keep yourself safe, too,” the elegant woman said.

  “I will.” Liam dissolved the circle by brushing it aside with his hands. “Stay safe.”

  They vanished, and Liam got to his feet, kicking the dirt onto the pile of herbs in the small hole he’d dug.

  “I take it from what you were saying that fucking Naamah’s killing off the dead,” Declan said. His expression was grim.

  “Yeah. We need to do something, Dec.” Liam looked around at the silent beauty of the cemetery. “The dead have done enough.”

  “A-fucking-men.” Declan was angry. “Bro, this is fucked. We need some serious mojo to fix this.”

  “I’m on it,” Baxter said. He had his cellphone in his hand and was making a call. “Give me ten minutes.” He walked off a short distance, the phone pressed to his ear.

  “What can he do?” Declan demanded.

  “He’s calling Michael,” Riley said. “Michael will place a protection over the cemetery.”

  “That’s a start,” Liam said. “We need to go and see a witch.”

  Declan grunted.

  “You know I’m right,” Liam said.

  “Hold off on that,” Baxter said, walking quickly toward them. “Mikey said to go to a hotel or something. He and Gabe will come and see us in around five hours. Gabe’s got a witchy friend who can whip up protections and amulets for us.”

  “Huh. Well, I like that better than trying to find a witch that’ll see us around here.” Declan looked around. “We should find a place to stay.”

  “There’s a motel about four miles away according to the Internet,” Riley said.

  “It’s not expensive, is it?” Declan asked.

  “No. It’s quite cheap. Is that a problem?” Riley looked worried.

  “No, Biggles, cheap is good,” Liam said. “We like cheap.”

  THERE WERE no other guests at the motel, and the sleepy clerk didn’t look at them when Declan signed for the rooms. He took the keys, grunting at Liam, who hid a laugh behind a cough. Together, they walked out of the check-in office and out into the parking lot, where Baxter and Riley waited by the truck.

  “We’ve got two rooms,” Declan said. “I figured it’d be safer if we doubled up.”

  “Awesome.” Baxter grabbed one of the keys. “So, Liam, want to share with me?”

  “Yes.” Liam nodded. “Declan snores.”

  “I do not!” Declan glared at him.

  “Yes, you do. Good luck getting any sleep, Biggles.”

  Riley sighed. “All right.”

  “Let’s get our gear and go get some rest.” Declan moved to the back of the truck and opened up the door, pulling out rucksacks and carryalls.

  Liam followed him, picking up his own carryall and slinging it over his shoulder. He tossed a rucksack to Baxter, who caught it, and then he sauntered toward the rooms without looking back.

  The room was plain, painted in standard motel cream with standard motel beige carpet and standard motel floral bedspreads. The lamps had standard motel faded lampshades, and the light bulbs flickered when the lamps were turned on. He looked around without m
uch interest as he set his carryall down on one of the beds.

  “Well,” Baxter said, “home sweet home for the night.”

  “Yeah.” Liam pulled the jar of salt and chalk out of his carryall, moved to the door, and began laying down a thick line.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Setting up a perimeter. We don’t want any nasties visiting us tonight, do we?”

  “Well, no, but”—Baxter had moved to him and laid a hand on Liam’s wrist—“do you really think this is going to keep out someone like Naamah?”

  “Probably not, but it might keep out some of the creatures who work for her,” Liam said.

  “Okay, I guess.” Baxter stepped back, and Liam finished laying down the salt and chalk at the windows after he’d finished with the door.

  Liam put the lid back on the jar, and then he moved to the bed and tucked the jar back into the carryall. “All done.”

  “Good.” Baxter was looking at Liam with an unreadable expression on his face.

  Liam frowned a little. “What’s wrong?”

  “Hm? Oh, nothing.” Baxter walked around the room, looking everywhere but at Liam.

  “Bax.” Liam stepped in front of him, stopping Baxter’s prowl midstep. “What is it?”

  Baxter looked at him and for a moment, Liam was lost in blue-green eyes. He saw the minute flecks of brown among the blue-green and the ring of brown around the pupil. He licked his lips and took a small step closer.

  “Baxter,” Liam repeated his name, “talk to me, man.”

  “And say what?” Baxter asked.

  Liam took another step closer, now so close he could feel the heat of Baxter’s body, feel the brush of Baxter’s arms against his own. Baxter licked his lips, and Liam watched the tip of Baxter’s tongue dart out of his mouth with rapt fascination.

  “Say whatever you want,” Liam said.

  “That’s usually a bad plan, dude,” Baxter said.

  “Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Liam moved closer still, and he could feel Baxter against him, a hair’s breadth separating them. He could feel Baxter’s cock, hard through his jeans, as Baxter’s body touched his own, and he bit his lip as a flash fire of arousal tore through him.

  “Because… of… I….”

  “Yeah?” Liam leaned down a little, his lips almost brushing Baxter’s. Baxter let out a low moan.

  “Dude, you’re evil.”

  “How do you—”

  Whatever Liam was going to ask was lost as he felt Baxter’s hands in his hair and Baxter’s mouth against his. He groaned, sliding his own arms around Baxter’s waist and pulling him closer so they stood pressed together, their hard cocks rubbing against each other in delicious friction through their jeans.

  “Liam,” Baxter panted between hot, hungry kisses. “Fuck, Liam.”

  “I was hoping for that, yeah,” Liam said as he slid his hands down to Baxter’s ass.

  “Oh good.” Baxter nipped Liam’s lower lip, and then Liam felt Baxter’s hands slip beneath his shirt and touch his back.

  “Bax,” Liam groaned, arching and breaking the kiss. He started back toward the nearest bed, pulling Baxter with him, and when the back of his legs hit the mattress, he let himself fall, landing half on the bed and half on his open carryall, Baxter on top of him.

  “Ow, fuck!” Baxter let go of Liam only long enough to tug the carryall out and drop it carelessly on the floor.

  “I forgot it was there,” Liam said.

  “Me too,” Baxter said.

  “Come here, babe,” Liam purred and tugged Baxter down for another kiss.

  How they got naked would forever remain a mystery, and Liam was privately amazed that he thought to grab lube and a condom out of his pocket. Soon, he and Baxter were lying skin to skin, and he was sliding his hands over every inch of Baxter’s body that he could reach.

  Baxter rolled onto his back, pulling Liam on top of him, and his eyes, when Liam looked at him, were very bright.

  “Bite me,” Baxter whispered.

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah. I want you to.”

  “Okay.” Liam ducked his head, nuzzling Baxter’s neck, breathing deep and inhaling the scent of him—soap, sweat, and damp grass. He hummed low in his throat as Liam tilted his head to the side as he bit down on soft skin.

  Baxter’s arms tightened around him, and Liam groaned as he reached up a hand to cradle Baxter’s head. He felt the sharp sting of pleasure-pain as Baxter’s nails dug into him, raking down his back, and he growled, biting harder, eliciting a ragged gasp from Baxter. Then he was being rolled and pinned to the bed, and Baxter was straddling him.

  “D’you know what it means to bite a shifter’s neck or be bitten by a shifter on the neck?” Baxter panted as he grabbed up the condom and then tore open the wrapper.

  Liam paused. There was something… but he couldn’t quite remember what it was. He watched as Baxter slid the condom onto his cock and then tore open the sachet of lube and squeezed it onto his fingers.

  “It means mating,” Baxter said. He wasn’t looking at Liam now, instead he stroked himself, and then he gently pushed Liam’s thighs apart.

  A light bulb went on in Liam’s brain, and he caught Baxter’s wrists as he felt the other man’s hands slipping over his inner thighs, inching toward his cock, balls, and hole.

  “You want to mate with me? Be mated?”

  Baxter froze. Then he looked up, and Liam saw hope warring with fear on Baxter’s face.

  “Oh, Bax,” Liam said. He let go of Baxter’s wrists and reached up to run his hands through Baxter’s mussed dark blond hair. “I’d be honored.”

  Baxter smiled a shy smile. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. But you know what I want most of all right now?”

  “What’s that?”

  Liam grinned. “I want you to fuck me.”

  “Oh fuck yes,” Baxter gasped. He resumed his slow, slicked-fingered touches of Liam’s body, and as Liam let out a loud moan, throwing his head back on the pillow, he felt the tentative touch of a finger against his hole and then the slow pressure as that finger entered him.

  Baxter finger-fucked Liam for what felt like forever, and Liam arched, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking himself. “Babe, if you don’t fuck me with your dick soon, this is going to be over before we get started.”

  Baxter laughed, a low, breathy sound, and Liam bit his lip as he felt the fingers pulled out of him. A moment later, the much thicker length of Baxter’s cock was inside him, and Liam wrapped his legs around Baxter’s hips, arching into the penetration. He reached up and tugged Baxter down for another kiss, this one artless and hungry, full of passion and need, and he moaned loudly as he felt Baxter’s hand on his cock, stroking him as he began to fuck him.

  “Liam,” Baxter groaned, his voice rough. “Fuck, Liam.”

  “Baxter,” Liam growled, rocking into each thrust, each stroke. “Harder.”

  Baxter whimpered, and Liam saw through lust-hazy eyes that Baxter was trembling. “Liam, oh fuck.” Baxter ducked his head, burying his face against Liam’s neck. His next words were muffled, and Liam wasn’t certain he’d heard correctly.

  “What was that, babe?” Liam asked.

  “IthinkI’mfallinginlovewithyou.”

  Liam clenched down around Baxter’s cock, making Baxter moan and gasp, his hips jerking forward reflexively. The hard thrust inside him made Liam cry out, and he reached up with one hand to tangle his fingers in Baxter’s hair as he murmured, “I figured out what you said. And you know what? I say good. Because I am too. With you.”

  Baxter let out a sound like a choked sob, and Liam urged him on with touches and kisses. Soon they were moving fast and hard, glued together, and it was bliss, it was perfect, it was everything that Liam had ever wanted. His orgasm curled in his belly, low and fierce, and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. To judge from the shorter, harder thrusts that Baxter was making, he wasn’t the only one.

  As Baxter rubbed his
thumb over the head of Liam’s cock, Liam cried out and arched, his eyes closing as he came. Baxter’s name was on his lips and in his heart, and a moment later, he felt Baxter coming inside him, heard Baxter’s wordless cry, and then the weight of Baxter on top of him as Baxter, panting, collapsed as an almost dead weight.

  In his ear, Liam heard Baxter whisper, “You’re the best thing in my life, Liam, love.”

  Liam mischievously flexed his muscles around Baxter’s cock, making Baxter gasp and moan. “I feel the same, babe.”

  They lay together, panting, reveling in the afterglow of their orgasms and their emotions, and Liam was annoyed when he heard Declan’s voice at the door calling them to join him and Riley on the quest for a bite to eat for dinner.

  Chapter Thirteen

  GABRIEL WATCHED Michael as his lover stood with his cellphone pressed to his ear. Every so often, Michael would nod and say, “Mhm,” or “I see,” and Gabriel would make a tumbling motion with both of his hands to try and get Michael to explain what it was that he saw or agreed with. Michael then said Minnie’s name, and Gabriel gestured a little more frantically for his lover to elaborate, but Michael said nothing more illuminating. Finally, Michael ended the call, and Gabriel let out an explosive breath.

  “What the hell all was that about?” he demanded.

  “Language, Gabriel,” Michael said, his expression prim.

  Gabriel threw his hands up and looked up at the ceiling. “Bloody hell!”

  “Language. In any case, that was Baxter. It seems your Necromancer turned up some information.”

  Gabriel listened, his eyebrows shooting up as Michael explained what had happened in the cemetery of Notre Dame des Neiges.

  “And then he said that this was nearly as creepy as the island of the dolls, and that he wanted to make a formal complaint about missions to creepy places that should exist only in horror movies.”

  Gabriel burst out laughing. “Okay. So Baxter doesn’t do well with creepy places, huh?”

  “It seems not.” Michael pinched the bridge of his nose. “We should pay Miss Minnie and Mr. Max a visit.”

  “Just Minnie and Max’ll be fine,” Gabriel said. He grinned at Michael as his lover blushed a little.

 

‹ Prev