Queer Magick

by Davis, L. C.

He stopped and looked at me expectantly. "What?"

  "We just had sex. Don't you wanna, I don't know --"

  "Cuddle?" he asked, smirking. "Talk about our feelings and the future?"

  Hell fucking yeah, I thought. I said, "No, just... I don't know, something."

  He knelt down, sidling up to me again to place a smiling kiss against my lips. "Daniel," he mumbled, "Sweet, sentimental Daniel. We fucked. That's it. It was fun, but don't make it weird."

  "Right," I muttered, getting to my feet. The rest of what happened between the cabin and the lake was a blur, but I would never forget the lesson I learned that day. For me, it had been a moment. The moment that I lost my virginity to my best friend, my worst enemy, my first love and every other terrible, amazing, mystifying thing Dennis had become to me, but to him? It was just another way to pass the time on a hot summer day.

  The memory began to ebb away and while I had started out hoping it was a dream I would never wake up from, I found myself longing for the clarity of reality. Heaven, Hell, it didn't matter. I could deal with anything, anyone, just as long as I never had to see him again.

  When I opened my eyes to what I was fairly sure was my new reality to find myself staring into an eerily familiar set of emerald depths, I decided that was a premature assessment. Maybe most things, people and places were preferable to Dennis and that cabin, but not Locke and sure as hell not Locke in my bedroom.

  "Sweet dreams ?" the demon taunted, running his hand up the inside of my thigh.

  I scrambled upright, pressing my back against my padded headboard as I searched the room. "How did I get here ?" I looked down, groping my chest. There wasn't a blemish on it, but I was no less disturbed by the fact that I was wearing clean clothes.

  "I brought you, of course. Couldn't risk leaving you in a forest full of edible things."

  "Edible?"

  "You'll find you're more or less the same old Daniel with a few quirks," he said, sitting up straight on the edge of my bed. "Namely, you're a bit more carnivorous than you were before."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "I promised Holden I would bring you back, and I did," he said, smiling sweetly as he tucked a lock of white hair behind his ear. "I just didn't specify that you'd be living. He'll have to learn to be more careful about what he wishes for, but I'm an excellent teacher.""

  I watched him for a moment before his words sank in. "I'm a fucking zombie?"

  "If you want to see it that way, yes. I prefer to think of it as being an indentured servant with a taste for brains."

  "You're kidding."

  "Afraid not. It works out, though. I just so happened to need a member of the undead masses for the ritual," he said, patting my thigh. "You'll do nicely. I mean, the whole friends-to-lovers thing is a bit awkward at first, but you and Holden will find a way around it. If you play your cards right, maybe you'll even be able to finagle a threesome with Nick out of the arrangement."

  "You planned this," I seethed.

  "Like I told Holden, I merely exploited the opportunity your death provided," he said innocently.

  "Where is he? Where's Nick?"

  "They're fine. I've told them where you are and trust me, you don't want to be around them right now."

  "I wouldn't hurt them." I didn't sound as sure as I wanted to be.

  "You wouldn't mean to, but you're still fresh. I kept you under until the full moon wore off with lots of sugar plum fairies to dance in your head and pass the time while you slept. You're welcome, by the way."

  "If that was your idea of a good dream, I don't want to know what your nightmares look like."

  "Hm," he mused. "Whips and leather, tortured screams... pretty much the same as my good dreams, but the line has always been a bit blurry for demons."

  "How long have I been...?"

  "Dead?" he offered. "About four days."

  I looked down at my hands and when I balled them into fists, my joints felt rigid. I told myself it was just my imagination that they felt cold, too, like a caveman who hadn't quite thawed out of a block of ice. "What's wrong with me?"

  "Nothing much. With a few dietary adaptations, you'll be human, more or less. With Holden's heart serving as an incubator for your soul, it'll stay nice and toasty. Of course, the further you get from him, the less human you'll feel," he replied. "Then there are the cravings, but don't worry about those for now."

  "Cravings?" I had hoped the brain thing was his idea of a joke.

  "See, in order to live like a human, you'll have to eat like a monster once or twice a week."

  "And if I don't?"

  Locke stretched out his arms and made a series of jerky movements, his lip curling up with a less than convincing snarl. "'Crankenstein hunger for townspeople brain. Rrrr...'"

  "Okay, I get it," I said through gritted teeth. It came out as more of a growl than I wanted to. "Holden agreed to this?"

  He grimaced. "Weeeeell, I wouldn't say he agreed. But we had a heart-to-heart and he came to understand that it's really the best possible outcome in all of --"

  "He doesn't know, does he?"

  "Not in the literal sense of knowing, no."

  "What about Nick ?"

  "Ehh."

  "So what, I'm just supposed to spend the rest of my un-life in my apartment, waiting around until you need me for your weirdo ritual?"

  "It's not my ritual, I just gathered the ingredients," he corrected. "And no, you're just here until we can ride out your first full moon. Together. Won't that be fun?"

  I contemplated my options in silence for a moment before crying, "Remiel!"

  Locke scrambled on top of me, clamping a hand over my mouth with alarming strength. "Ssshshshhsh," he hissed. "Don't be so dramatic!"

  "You're the one who brought me back from the dead," I snapped. "And I don't believe for a second it was all just a happy accident you turned around to your benefit."

  He shrugged. "Believe it or don't. All that matters is that you're one of the Seven now," he said, running his hands down my chest. "That makes you Holden's, and since he's mine, that makes you mine by extension."

  I pushed him off me and left the room. To my surprise, I made it to the front door unaccosted. When I opened it and took a step out only to get pushed back by some invisible forcefield, I realized it wasn't much of a surprise at all."

  "Sorry, but it's a necessary precaution," Locke said, leaning seductively in my doorway. "You're the first zombie to rise in ages, and I can't take the chance that you'll be one of the nice ones."

  "Right. Because you care so much."

  "I like this quaint little world," he drawled, resting a hand on his hip. "And I've put too much work into this town to let you tear it apart."

  I wasn't sure I liked the fact that a demon was worried about what I was capable of, but other than feeling a bit cold and stiff, I didn't feel all that different. Even that could easily be explained by four days spent in bed after a car accident. I told myself to take things as they came, and hope they didn't.

  "Don't look so glum. It's not all bad. At least you've got me to keep you company."

  "That would be the worst of the bad."

  He pouted, then disappeared. I turned in time to see him kicking the door shut and he pushed me over to the couch, forcing me to sit down. He snapped his fingers and a cold beer appeared in his hand, fog still clinging to the lip. "Oh, come on," he chided, slipping the bottle into my hand. He snapped again and the TV came on. The game that was playing was one that was scheduled to air during the time I was unconscious. "You're going to hurt my feelings."

  "You have those?" I taunted, taking a swig of beer. I was thirsty, but it tasted flat.

  "You know I do," he said, moving from his perch on the couch to settle on my lap, walking his fingers across my shoulder to turn my head towards him. His gaze was soft and entreating like it had been the night I had made the mistake of taking him home after Carla's party. "You weren't in any rush to kick me out of your bed the night we met. I
s the idea of a little quality time together really so bad?"

  "That was before I knew what you were," I muttered.

  "Does it matter?" he whispered against my lips, his voice sultry. "We're both damned now. Might as well enjoy the trip."

  "That's a fair point," I admitted, watching him for a moment as our lips hovered close to touching before I stood, letting him fall back onto the couch. "Or it would be, if I didn't find the sight of you repulsive. Even if you didn't plan my death, you had no qualms about using it to manipulate Holden. And Nick."

  He sat up, his eyes burning with anger. "You think Nick returns that loyalty? You think he's sitting somewhere twiddling his thumbs, worried about poor, longsuffering Daniel?" he sneered. "He's a werewolf. They prey on things like you. I'm keeping you safe from him every bit as much as I'm keeping the town safe from you. The second he thinks you're a threat to the one he really loves, he won't hesitate to tear you limb from lifeless limb."

  I clenched my jaw, tempted to retort but I knew that would just be giving him what he wanted. Instead, I pulled a move I hadn't since my junior year in high school and locked myself in my room. I doubted a bedroom door lock would be enough to keep the Locke out, but to my relief, he left me alone.

  Maybe he had a shred of dignity, or maybe I had just stepped on a nerve. Either way, I had a feeling it was the closest I was getting to peace until the full moon.

  Twenty-Five

  HOLDEN

  I stared up at Daniel's building, restless and worried. It was the first time in the two weeks that had elapsed since Daniel's death--and Brent's--that I had been able to slip Nick's watchful eye. Even then, the only reason he wasn't there with me was because he was attending his brother's funeral. I wanted to be there with him, but he told me that would only arouse suspicion and he didn't need to say the words to get the message across. Brent was dead because of me. Because he had somehow figured out who and what I was, according to what little Nick had told me about the telepathic conversation between them that night in the forest, and that was why he had come after us. Brent had hoped that killing me would put an end to his brother's fixation, convinced that I had bewitched him.

  The rest of the pack didn't know about any of it. For the time being, they were content to think the fangs that had ripped Brent's neck open belonged to an alpha from a long-time rival pack, since Locke had dropped his body on the edge of their territory, but the Whitakers already suspected me of being a witch. It was only a matter of time before they figured out the rest. Even if Locke could manage to keep us safe, that would pit Nick against his family and he had already lost so much. Then there was the inevitability of them realizing that something was wrong with Daniel.

  At first, once Nick had tracked Daniel's scent to his apartment, he had tried incessantly to break in. The same ward Mrs. Marrin's ancestors had used to keep him off her property--a precaution I now knew was the only reason his borderline stalking had ended at the property line--had been placed over Daniel's building as well. Locke hadn't showed his face save for a brief announcement the day after the festival that he would be keeping Daniel under house arrest until the full moon for "safety." Nick wouldn't let me test whether the ward extended to me. With Daniel's phone obliterated, and Locke seemingly in no hurry to grant him access to the outside world, I knew the two hours I had before Nick was back from the funeral might be the only chance I had to ascertain Daniel's whereabouts and wellbeing before the next full moon.

  It wasn't just the fact that he was trapped with Locke that worried me, it was the look that came over Nick's face whenever he talked about Daniel being back from the dead. I hadn't expected him to be happy about it, but he was acting like what anyone else would see as a miracle was an even greater tragedy than Brent's death. I couldn't escape the feeling that he was grieving Daniel just as much as his blood brother, and it was worth incurring his wrath to prove him wrong. I had to see Daniel with my own eyes so I could reassure Nick that he was still the same person he always had been.

  I took a deep breath and opened the front door to the clinic. Daniel's apartment could only be accessed through the inside lobby, which I was sure had been one of the selling points when he had bought the place. It was further than Nick had ever gotten, and I gripped the railing on my way up the stairs since my hand was shaking.

  I was more nervous about encountering Locke than ever, if only because his absence made it easy to live in denial about what I had done. To tell myself it wasn't really possible to sell your soul with a kiss, and that all the gilded visions Locke had shown me of our future together were just another example of his tricks. They weren't a guarantee, and they were fading fast in my mind's eye. Whenever I tried to grab onto one of the images I had seen dancing in the demon's emerald eyes, it slipped out of my grasp and back into the steady current of my subconscious mind.

  As I climbed those stairs, I didn't feel nearly as brave or bold as I had at the beginning of my fool's errand. I felt like a scared child, but I needed to see Daniel. I needed to know that he was okay, that he really hadn't changed, and if he wasn't okay, I needed to know that, too. The mystery was the only thing I couldn't handle.

  I reached his doorstep and I started to knock before I caught myself, realizing that would only alert Locke to my presence. The door opened and Daniel was standing on the other side, wearing a mask of confusion. "Holden?"

  "Daniel." His name came out strangled and I lurched forward, throwing my arms around him before I could think about what I was doing. He felt sturdy and my cheek rested against solid flesh where the hole in his chest had been. He felt a bit cool to the touch, but not nearly as much as Locke did. I reminded myself that he probably only felt cool in comparison to Nick's constant warmth. I looked up at him in wonder and his gaze softened. The only thing about him that was different was his scent. He usually smelled like the antibacterial soap he used at the clinic, if anything at all, but now he smelled kind of like Mrs. Marrin's basement. It wasn't a bad smell at all, just dry and dusty.

  "Hey. I was starting to think you'd forgotten me."

  "Of course not! Locke has a ward up around the building to keep Nick out, and this is the first time I've been able to get away from him," I murmured, looking past him into the apartment. "Is Locke here ?"

  "He's out for the moment, but you know how he is. He has a way of showing up when you least expect."

  "I'll take my chances," I said, walking into the apartment when Daniel stepped away from the door. "Are you okay? I mean, I know you're not okay-okay, but --"

  "I'm fine. I snapped the remote the other day when I couldn't get the pause button to work right," he admitted, raking a hand through his tousled hair. Despite the fact that he'd been locked up for weeks, it didn't seem to have grown any. "No full-on zombie meltdowns, though."

  "Zombie?" My voice cracked.

  He frowned. "That son of a bitch really didn't tell you what you were agreeing to, did he?"

  "No, he just said he'd bring you back. He didn't say anything about you being dead. I thought Nick was just being a fatalist." I cringed. "Bad choice of words."

  "Locke brought me back, all right. Just not all the way," he muttered, looking pointedly at my chest.

  I gulped, instinctively bringing my hand to cover the spot where Daniel's soul hovered with my own. "I guess Locke told you I'm your soul's security deposit box for the moment?"

  "Yeah. He did."

  "I'm so sorry, Daniel. I swear, I just thought he was going to put you back to normal. Back to how you were before I screwed everything up."

  He frowned. "The accident wasn't your fault, Holden. I shouldn't have swerved."

  "You wouldn't have if Brent hadn't been in the middle of the road. He was after me, Daniel. You were just there."

  "Brent?"

  I froze. "Locke didn't tell you ?"

  "No," he said, frowning. "What happened to Brent?"

  Shit. "Daniel, I'm so sorry. Maybe you should sit down..."

  "I'm fine. He lock
ed the door even though I was sure he knew as well as I did how little that would do to keep Locke out if he wanted in. "I'm undead, not made of glass."

  "Right." I sighed. "Um, Brent was the thing in the road that made us crash. After Locke disappeared with you, I went looking for you both in the forest and Brent followed me. He tried to kill me, but Nick showed up in his alpha form and you can probably guess the rest."

  "Shit."

  I pursed my lips. "Today was the funeral."

  "Nick doesn't know you're here, does he?"

  Just when I thought it was impossible to feel more like a human trash can. Humanish, in any case.

  "Fuck," Daniel muttered, pulling a beer out of the refrigerator. He offered one to me, but I shook my head. "Why was Brent trying to kill you?"

  "He figured out who I am. Or what I am, more specifically. He assumed I had already contracted with Locke, which didn't end up being wrong," I admitted. "He'd been watching us for a while. He'd also figured out Nick had imprinted on me, and he wanted to take me out before Nick could mark me and get tangled up in it all permanently. He was trying to protect his brother."

  "And Nick protected you."

  I tried to swallow but couldn't quite remember how it worked. "Yeah."

  "How's Nick holding up?"

  "Better than he should be. That's what worries me. He's not angry or sad, he's just..."

  "Empty?"

  "Yeah."

  "He does that. After his dad died, it was the same way. He just iced out everything and everyone for months, like it never happened."

  I frowned. "His dad is dead?"

  Daniel stared blankly at me. "He didn't tell you?"

  "No," I murmured. Looking back, he hadn't said much about his dad at all. Just a few less-than-endearing anecdotes about his mother here and there, but I'd assumed it was part of his attempt to keep our relationship as separate from his family life as possible.

  Daniel's eyes lit up all of a sudden. "I saw Brent talking to Dennis, not long before the festival."

  "About what?"

  "I don't know, but I got the feeling it was about something more serious than the campaign."