by Becca Andre
Elysia yelped, but he wouldn’t let her pull away. Like earlier today, her blood burned across his tongue and down his throat, setting his body on fire. Life. How ironic that necromancers dealt in death when in truth, their power was life.
“James.”
The bond tightened, and without warning, she sank more of herself into him. Damn, that felt good. His own power rose in response, like to like. His vision changed and his skin tingled. He lifted his head and had to squint against the brightness of her soul.
Her head fell back against the headrest, and she stared at him with wide white eyes. She lifted her hand to rub her fingers lightly along his jaw.
“So warm,” she whispered.
His blood chilled as he remembered another necromancer saying the same thing. Clarissa, Neil’s mother. Her eyes had been as white as Elysia’s. Unsettled, he began to pull away when her fingers slid across his lips.
“You’ve got a great mouth,” she told him.
Creeped out or not, he smiled. She might sound lucid, but she was clearly out of it.
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
He had a second to register his shock, and then the compulsion kicked in. He leaned in and covered her mouth with his. He should be pleased at the opportunity to make out with a pretty girl, but the necromantic compulsion took all the fun out of it.
Elysia’s arms came up around his shoulders, and she parted her lips for him. A few brushes of her tongue and the necromancer thing wasn’t such a turn off. She groaned and one hand slid up the back of his neck into his hair. James was still riding high from her blood, his body alive in a way he had never truly felt. He wondered what she would do if he pulled her into his lap.
“Elysia,” he said against her lips. They gasped in unison as the bond flared up once more.
“That’s not suppose to happen,” she whispered. “I—”
“Careful.” He pressed a finger to her lips, still damp from his kiss. “You’re not yourself. Don’t give me any commands you might later regret.”
She frowned. “I gave you a command?”
“Yes.” He wondered if she was disappointed.
“Oh God.” She pushed open the passenger door and almost fell out in her haste to leave.
By the time he climbed out of the car, she had already disappeared around the side of the barn. He walked after her, unconcerned about losing her in the darkness. With a taste of her soul, he would always be able to find her again.
He reached the corner of the barn and heard retching. A peek around the corner revealed what he expected, she was on her knees emptying her stomach. Another side effect of her over-use of necromancy? Concerned, he took a step toward her.
“Dead, Elysia,” she whispered. “Dead, dead, dead. Why do you keep forgetting?” She retched again.
James stood in silence a moment, then retreated to the car. He didn’t know why it bothered him. He had always known that no woman would have him once she knew what he was, but to make a necromancer sick? Not cool. Necros were known for their depravity.
He glanced toward the barn. He was alone, and she was weak right now. It was an opportunity he couldn’t ignore. If he got far enough away, could he resist her call?
Addie. He would go to Addie. If anyone could figure out a way to free him, she could.
He shrugged off his coat and tossed it on the driver’s seat. Goosebumps pebbled his arms. This February had seen higher temperatures than usual, but it was still cold.
Hands on the hem of his shirt, he hesitated. He should make sure Elysia made it back to the car before he left.
No, she wasn’t that out of it. She would be fine. He had to get out of here while he still could. He tugged his shirt up to his armpits and stopped.
If Elysia died, he could be banished from the mortal plane. Would he end up trapped in the land of the dead? That’s what had happened to Gavin, the grim before him.
Grumbling, he pulled his shirt down and walked toward the barn. Why did she have to soul bind him? A blood bond would have been sufficient to tie him to her. Why add the if-I-die-you-die clause? Had she been that afraid of him?
He stepped around the corner of the barn and stopped. Elysia was gone.
Chapter
5
James called the hound and his senses came to life. He turned in a slow circle, looking for the glitter of Elysia’s now familiar soul. Nothing.
He sifted through the scents and caught a whiff of her strawberry shampoo. Yet it seemed to have moved beyond this area. Unease fluttered through his stomach, the situation reminding him a bit too much of the time he had lost Rowan at that haunted crematorium. But Rowan’s soul had been masked from James’s sight by another. This old barn didn’t appear haunted. So where had Elysia gone? Distance did limit the hound’s sight. Could she have moved far enough away in the short time he had been gone?
James stripped off his clothes and slid into his other form, but even the hound’s greater range failed to spot her. He took off into the trees.
Ghosting through the forest, his footsteps made no sound in last fall’s leaf litter. He circled the barn in wider and wider loops, but found no sign of her. It seemed she had vanished. If she were a grim, he would suspect she had jumped into the land of the dead.
He remembered Addie’s necromancer… friend and his hackles rose. He could travel to the land of the dead, but Ian Mallory was a lich king. A dead necromancer who was now a lich himself. The man’s power was nothing like James had ever felt—or was it? Elysia had made a lich in seconds with nothing but her blood.
James pulled open the portal and jumped through, his body shifting forms without his conscious control. He now stood on two legs in the dim red glow, his body a meld between hellhound and man.
Hello, little brother, Gavin said in his old world brogue. He stepped into James’s line of sight, his form the same, except his eyes glowed red where James’s were green.
I want to learn to soul track. James didn’t like to ask Gavin for favors. For one, the guy was insane—who knew if the information was accurate.
Have you lost someone, little brother? The pretty alchemist?
I simply wish to learn.
Will you bring her back? I like her scent, and I long to taste her.
James snarled. Stay away from her.
Touchy, touchy. Gavin stepped closer. To soul track, you must have first tasted the soul.
I have.
Then it is a simple matter. Hold that taste in your mind and let your desire for it guide you.
You’re messing with me.
Gavin lifted his upper lip, exposing a muzzle full of teeth. Faith, little brother.
James sighed, the sound closer to a growl in this form. He pulled open the portal.
You must track from here. Only this form has that power.
James let the portal go. Why?
This is our true form, the two as one. You must be one or the other on the mortal plane. The hound feels no desire and the human cannot see the soul.
But what if the one I seek is on the mortal plane?
The soul transcends all: there, here, and beyond.
James studied the creature before him. How could he know that? Then, too, Gavin could be blowing smoke up his ass. But James was out nothing for trying. He closed his eyes.
Yes. Gavin moved closer. His body gave off no heat—he truly was a ghost—but James sensed his closeness.
Can you taste it still? Gavin asked. Life? True life?
Yes, James whispered, though he really hadn’t meant to. He didn’t want Gavin to have any part of this, yet just the thought of the ambrosia that was Elysia’s blood had him in thrall.
Find her, Gavin whispered, his tone low, urgent… excited.
James didn’t question how
Gavin knew the one he sought was female. He probably thought he searched for Addie. But James had never tasted Addie’s blood in its pure form. Suddenly he wanted to.
Focus, Gavin said.
James focused on Elysia, his body beginning to tingle with the anticipation of another taste. Then he felt her. She wasn’t far, but nowhere was far from here.
Careful. Gavin’s voice was distant and growing fainter. Do not let your desire rule you.
James’s clawed feet thumped against the ground, and it wasn’t until that moment that he realized he had traveled. He opened his eyes and found the landscape unchanged. Gavin was gone, yet he wasn’t alone.
She was there, here, in the land of the dead. Her soul a beacon of light in this dark, featureless place. He took a step toward her, drawn by her light and the desire that still crackled across his nerves. The blood lust.
He took a step. Then another. The distance between them shrank.
She gasped and turned to face him, her pale eyes going wide.
James hesitated, suddenly consumed by the irrational urge to hide, to not let her see his nightmare form. But that made no sense. He should want to scare her, to force her to free him.
Stop. A form James hadn’t noticed stepped between them. A cloaked woman, her features hidden, but with a soul almost as bright as Elysia’s. Child, go.
Elysia turned away. A gust of wind carrying her vibrancy, and she was gone.
She is not for you, demon.
James eyed the figure before him. He had met the occasional spirit in this place, but all fled from him here. This woman was different.
She seemed to study him from within her hood. Another gust of cool air and she was gone, though unlike Elysia, he didn’t smell life, he scented cold stone and darkness.
His hackles rose.
Turning away, he followed Elysia, the ability coming more easily or perhaps it was the freshness of her scent. An instant later, he landed on four paws beside the old barn. The moon had risen above the trees and frost now coated the grass. Elysia lay curled on her side in the old leaves piled against the side of the barn.
James shifted human and knelt beside her. “Elysia?” The disturbing bond between them tightened.
“James,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me.”
The command hit him, and any chance of going to Addie dissolved. He bowed his head, but didn’t feel the anger he expected.
Elysia mumbled something else, but didn’t wake. Which made no sense. How could she travel to the land of the dead in her sleep? Or had she passed out upon her return?
He remembered the risk she had taken to Make the girl at the store, and her confusion afterward. Had the use of her magic harmed her?
Concerned, he gathered her in his arms and carried her to the car. Leaning the passenger seat back, he placed her inside, then covered her with his coat. He turned the vehicle on to let the heater run. She didn’t stir, and he chided himself for not asking for her grandmother’s address. What would he do if she didn’t wake up?
He closed the car door and shifted into the hellhound. He dealt with anxiety better in this form.
Chapter
6
Elysia woke to morning sunlight streaming through the windshield. Her upper body was covered by a leather jacket that wasn’t her own. She sat up from the reclined passenger seat and groaned. Her neck was stiff and a muscle spasmed in her lower back. It said something about her exhaustion that she had been able to sleep like that. An empty Diet Coke bottle rolled around the floorboard when she shifted her feet, the noise loud in the silence. A man’s T-shirt and jeans lay on the driver’s seat.
Memories from the day before returned, and she rubbed her face, groaning again. She had bound a hellhound, created a lich, and made out with a dead guy. She could do an episode of Necromancers Gone Wild—if there were such a thing.
She opened the car door and climbed out into the cold morning air. So where was—then she saw him.
In the deep shadow at the base of the barn, unblinking green eyes watched her. The eyes, with their eerie glow, were all that was visible. The hellhound’s midnight fur vanished in the darkness. Odd that he chose to sleep as the hound. Then she remembered how she woke covered in his coat. Maybe he had been cold in only his shirtsleeves. But the kindness of the gesture didn’t relieve the uncomfortable feeling his stare elicited in her.
“Hey,” she called to him in an effort to hide her unease. “We need to get going.”
A pause, and he rose to his feet. He padded toward her without making a sound. Dear God, he was huge. More like a small pony than any breed of dog she knew.
“I’m going to… use the facilities.” She hooked her thumb toward the trees and tried to ignore the heat in her cheeks. “You want to get dressed?”
Without so much as a blink, he turned toward the car.
When she returned, James was leaning against the front fender. He watched her approach with the same unblinking detachment as the hound. She wondered how much of him was human and how much was animal.
“You ready?” she asked, needing to fill the silence.
“Is that a rhetorical question?” He pulled open the passenger door and climbed inside.
She sighed and went to the driver’s side. He was back to sullen this morning. No, more likely he was pissed that she had made him kiss her against his will. She would be pissed, too.
She took a moment to adjust the seat and mirrors. “Damn,” she muttered, catching sight of her eyes in the rearview mirror. They were no longer white, but they weren’t brown either. More like sun-bleached khaki.
“What is it?” James sounded more bored than interested.
“My eyes. I’d rather Grams not know what I’ve been up to.”
He grunted, but couldn’t leave it at that. “You said as much before. Why?”
She adjusted the mirror to view the back glass and turned the key. “I swore I’d never be a practicing necromancer. I’ll get an I-told-you-so if she sees me like this.”
“It was my understanding that a necromancer cannot physically deny his or her magic.”
She gripped the wheel. “It’s possible, but it’s painful. So painful.” She cleared her throat. “Then there’s the threat of insanity.”
“Necros are known for crazy.”
She squeezed the wheel harder. He didn’t understand, and even if he did, he had no need to treat the topic with respect. Her actions last night had probably cemented any hatred he harbored for her kind. Yet for some reason, she didn’t want him to hate her.
“It’s true. Many do go insane. I’m not sure why some do, but I do know that denying your gift is the quickest route.” She stopped to take a breath. “My mother was clinically insane before her thirtieth birthday.”
“She was institutionalized?” His tone had softened, but she didn’t look over.
“Have you ever been in a sanitarium? That’s the last place you want to put a mentally unstable necromancer. The ghosts in that place.” She shivered. “Then there’s the morgue.”
He grunted.
She made herself release the wheel. “I don’t know why I told you that.” She rubbed her face. “Just a side effect of some troubling dreams, I guess.”
“What kind of dreams?” There was an intensity in his tone that made her glance over. He was watching her again with that unblinking focus.
“I have this recurring dream. It’s always the same. It’s dark, except for this dim red glow. And a woman. I know it’s the same woman, even though I never see her face. She tells me stories about my family’s past, or so she claims. My mother and grandmother. Sometimes, even further back.” She shook her head, suddenly self-conscious. “It sounds so stupid saying this out loud. I guess that’s why I’ve never told anyone.”
“And you h
ad such a dream last night?” His interest surprised her.
“Last night was different. Last night we were interrupted by… a nightmare.”
“A nightmare?”
“A monster.” She shivered. “Never mind. The whole dream thing has left me in a funk.”
“I’m sorry.”
After his grumpy mood, she didn’t expect concern. “It was just a dream.” And now he probably thought she was nuts for going on about it. She dropped the car into drive and carefully drove through the ruts to the main road.
“Why don’t you want your grandmother to know your true strength?” James asked after they had ridden in silence for a few miles.
“She thinks I’m the one to bring the Family back to prominence. She probably wants me to challenge the Deacon for his seat.”
“The Deacon of Cincinnati?” James asked.
“He lives in Cincinnati. He’s actually over much of the Midwest.”
Another pause. “Do you have the power to challenge him?”
“I’ve never met him. But I kicked his son’s ass once, and rumor has it that they’re much alike.”
James fell silent, and Elysia decided to leave it at that. He had brought them pretty far last night, curious considering he had no idea where Grams lived. They were only twenty minutes away. She was almost home.
Elysia shut off the engine and stared at the three-story funeral home at the end of the cul-de-sac. In its day, the large stone house had been a mansion. Built over a century ago, the building had been the home of her first ancestor to settle in the area. A symbol of her family’s wealth and power. Now it was simply another old building falling into disrepair. It needed a new roof, and the trim and soffits could use a fresh coat of paint. Even so, it was a welcome sight, though foreboding at the same time. Elysia took a deep breath and released it.
“Have you seen your grandmother since you left?” James asked.