The Necromancer's Seduction (10 page)

Chapter Ten

I tossed the pencil on the desk. This was ridiculous. I’d read the same sentence five
times, and it still failed to penetrate my frustration and shame over Saturday night’s
debacle. Kara and Ewan had called me several times, but I’d ignored their calls for
two days. I’d spent most of Sunday sprawled on my couch—dejected—a glass of wine in
hand and Ewan’s words,
you’ll do fine
, clanging in my head. Pathetic.

I tapped my fingernail on the desktop, trying to concentrate on an article for my
research paper, occasionally conscious of the scratching of pencils on paper. Monday
was my only nighttime class, and depending on the mood of the students, either passed
quickly or dragged on for an eternity. Fortunately, tonight I was giving an essay
exam, relieving me from stammering out an ill-conceived lecture.

A quick glance at the clock told me only an hour had passed. I doodled on my notepad,
drawing endless circles ’round and ’round each other, mirroring my life skirting a
supernatural identity I couldn’t shed so I circled it, careful not to get too close.

The last student dropped his blue book on my desk. Relieved, I shoved the article
and books into my backpack. I needed to grab some papers before going home to get
some much needed sleep—hopefully. As I exited my office, the heavy door slipped from
my fingers and slammed shut, sending a resounding echo down the hall.

Then silence.

I’ve never liked empty buildings at night—too much empty space, too much silence.

The hallway was darker than usual. Looking up, I noticed some burned out lights. I
walked faster, chased by the echo of my own footsteps. As if playing on my fear, I
swore another set of footsteps joined mine.

A scraping. A soft rubbing noise.

Dread crawled up my spine, grasping each vertebra with its talons. I rushed toward
the elevator, still a good thirty feet away, driven by the unsettling sensation that
something was bearing down on my back.

My breath strangled my throat at the now very real footsteps keeping pace with mine.
I glanced over my shoulder into the fluttering shadows. A figure approached. Shit.
I was pretty sure it wasn’t a janitor.

He snarled. Nope, definitely not a janitor.

Not wanting to waste precious seconds waiting for the elevator, I sprinted for the
stairs. I swung open the door and braved a quick look at my pursuer, now close enough
for me to see the sick pallor of death on his face, that mix of puke-green, yellow,
and gray that not even the best makeup artist can camouflage. Or imitate.

Zombie.

But slow and laborious
not
. This bastard was fast, seemingly spurred on by some undead hysteria. Whoever had
made him commanded some serious necromancer strength.

I jumped down the stairs, taking three or four steps at a time. The zombie took five.
My heel caught on one of the steps, and I landed on my knee with a loud crunch. I
scrabbled on the floor, gritting my teeth against the ice pick spearing my knee down
through the marrow of my leg. I stumbled and used my hands to propel me up and forward.

The zombie was so close I could smell its foul odor, more retching than the time I
encountered several decomposed rats in my basement. His hand clamped onto my arm,
feeling like a cold noodle. Yuck.

Using the handrail as leverage, I spun, throwing the zombie off balance but inadvertently
jerking him closer to me, close enough to see his oozing, red-rimmed eyes. He hadn’t
been dead long. His flesh was intact. He grinned at me, revealing bloody teeth, then
squeezed one of my fingers down to the bone. I winced.

He garbled, the sound like gargling water in the throat, then emitted a starved rasp,
the hunger of the undead. Never satisfied. Always voracious.

Adrenaline spiked my limbs. I spotted a fire extinguisher on the wall and reached
out with my whole body, using my fear as a medieval stretching rack until my joints
popped. My fingers tickled the fire extinguisher until I managed to wrap my hand around
the metal spout on the top and whacked the zombie across its head, causing it to tumble
back down the stairs. I dropped the extinguisher in disgust, noting the bits of bloody
flesh stuck to the bottom. I half ran, half limped out the door and down the hall
to the stairs on the opposite side of the building, the zombie’s furious clomps behind
me.

My heartbeat had jumped the tracks. I squeezed tears from my eyes and hopped down
the stairs, ignoring the slice of pain in my knee each time I landed.

I exited the building and sought the most well-lit, crowded spot, which turned out
to be the front of a drug store. I pulled my cell out of my backpack and struggled
to press Ewan’s contact with my trembling fingers. My breathless words were short.
“Zombie . . . attack. Okay. Drugstore. Campus.” I tucked my phone away and waited.

I leaned against the wall and gasped to catch one of the breaths coming one on top
of the other while I scanned the sidewalk for the zombie, worried it’d attack someone
else, but there wasn’t much I could do until Ewan arrived.

I sank to the cold sidewalk, my back rasping against the sandpaper-like surface of
the brick wall. I’d barely escaped becoming zombie hamburger. My pulse fluttered erratically,
and my knee felt like someone had injected crunched glass under the kneecap.

People walked past me and, fortunately, did not pay my slumped figure much mind. I
eyed the cacophony of color shining from the lit storefronts. I loved the nocturnal
pulse of the city streets, but occasionally something happens, like tonight, to remind
me of the nasty morsels tucked away in the dark alleys and abandoned buildings. The
lights blurred in my vision. I rubbed my arm where the zombie had grabbed me, remembering
the slimy feel of its hand.

Only a few minutes passed before Ewan’s black Land Rover pulled up to the curb. He
hopped out, followed by Jax, who crouched on the sidewalk and seemed to concentrate
on the ground.

I eased up, bracing my quivering limbs with a hand against the wall. Ewan clasped
my arms to help steady me on my feet. I avoided his eyes, but felt them survey my
body.

“What is Jax doing?” I asked.

“Searching for the zombie.”

Searching for the zombie? He was just squatting on the sidewalk, with a hand splayed
on the concrete. Suddenly, he disappeared, and my vision shifted and everything around
me stilled. The pedestrians stopped in mid-stride, and the lights no longer flickered.
Even the cars seemed to slow down then speed up when they passed us, like we were
smack in the middle of a school zone.

I opened my mouth to ask Ewan what was going on, but couldn’t muster my voice. He
understood, however, and said, “Jax condensed matter to canvass the area faster.”

Then what seemed only seconds later, Jax reappeared, and everything jerked back to
normal speed. A spate of dizziness hit my head, but Ewan’s hands kept me stable.

“No sign of the zombie or any victims,” Jax said.

I screwed up my eyes. The delayed shock of the attack caught up to me, and my body
trembled.

“We have to find it,” I managed to say through my tight throat.

“We will, but we can’t do anything else here. Jax will stay behind and make sure nothing
else happens then go to your house in case the zombie shows up. Ruby, look at me,”
Ewan said, his voice soft, but commanding.

I didn’t. I didn’t want to see his concern, didn’t want my vulnerability to explode
all over him. I willed my body to absorb the hard brick of the wall behind me because
I definitely didn’t want him to see me cry.

He eased me forward, and I winced when I straightened my knee to walk-skip over to
the SUV. The locks clicked once I was settled in the seat and he’d climbed into the
car. He kept his gaze glued to the road with occasional glances in the rearview mirror.
The only indication I had that he was on alert was his tight grip on the steering
wheel. Otherwise, he exuded his usual calm, cool demeanor.

“You’re limping. Are you hurt?”

“I slammed my knee on the stairs, but I’m happy to say my brains are intact. Where
are we going?”

“To the demon house. Kara is on her way there.”

“Is Malthus going to be there?”

“No.”

“Good.” I didn’t feel like dealing with him at the moment.

After driving a few more blocks, we reached the lair, and he pulled into the garage.
Ewan hopped out of his side and opened my door, holding out his hand to help me, but
I brushed it aside, still avoiding his gaze. He cursed and bounded up the stairs leading
from the garage to the house with me limping behind him. When we entered the study,
he turned abruptly, causing me to bump into his chest.

He clasped my arms gently. “Why won’t you look at me?”

Whether it was the deep tone of his voice or the adrenaline still pumping through
me, my body chose that moment to start shaking again. He pulled me against his chest,
and I breathed into the soft cotton of his shirt.

“That was way too close a call.” My voice sounded a few notches high.

“Look at me.” He raised my chin with his finger. His amber eyes glowed, and all my
fear, shock, and the touch of decay dissipated. “You’re safe.”

Hurried footsteps in the hall approached. I sat on the couch while Ewan moved to the
bar.

“Jesus.” Kara saw me and rushed over. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just shook up as you can tell.”

I’d wrapped my arms around myself, which helped to contain the adrenaline overload.
Ewan knelt in front of me, handed me a filled glass, then rolled up my pant leg and
placed a bag of ice against my now multi-colored knee. I pressed on the bag and took
a healthy swig of the whiskey. Ewan stood to pour himself a much larger glass. Kara
sat next to me, her hand on my leg. Her cell rang. After a few okays, she hung up.

“Jax said your house is clear,” she said.

I bit on the edge of the glass. “Looks like we’re definitely dealing with another
necromancer. And he knows about me. Think he knows about Adam?”

Kara rubbed her hands up and down her jeans.

Ewan furrowed his brow. “Question is, how many more zombies do we have running around
the city?”

I shifted the ice bag on my knee. “Whatever the number, I’m about to increase it by
one revenant.”

* * * *

Adam’s body lay before me on the porch. Again. I closed my eyes. Kara had redrawn
the diagram on my hand and left. I wanted to be alone this time. I clutched my necklace.
I was tired of people around me dying.

I breathed, reaching deep into my diaphragm, using the breaths to extract my fear
and clear my mind. The door materialized. I approached, my steps tentative, and forced
out any wayward thoughts. I placed my palm against the rough wood, feeling it vibrate,
a sensation that seeped into my bones and turned into a hum, as if bees had invaded
my body, hypnotizing me.

I turned the knob and pushed.

Lights flashed against my eyelids, and a jolt of arcane power electrified my body.
My power had plugged me into a light socket, the socket that powered the universe.
I heard myself moan. I had almost forgotten how exhilarating the power felt, caressing
my body in waves of ecstasy.

I’d done it. I wanted to weep, but instead bit my mouth hard in an effort to stay
focused, tasting blood.

With trembling hands, I took my knife and held out my palm with the diagram. I clenched
my fist to stop the shaking, then made a small slice in my flesh across from the first
cut covered with a Band-Aid. The currents of power flowing through me blocked out
the throbbing pain from the fresh cut. Fascinated, I stared at my palm and watched
as the blood filled in the outline of the diagram, covering the black ink of the Sharpie.
Cool.

I extended my hand over Adam’s body and squeezed until drops fell on his face. I closed
my eyes and saw streams of arcane energy flow from my body into his, entering his
eyes, nose, and mouth until his entire body glowed. A sharp shock up my spine made
me jerk upright. The pain was . . . exquisite. I pulled my hand back, feeling the
blood drip down my arms.

Adam shot up, his face contorted in confusion and shock, a person waking from a nightmare.
Beads of sweat trickled down my back.

“Why?” he rasped. He seized my blood-soaked wrist. “What’s happening to me? Who?”
His eyes pierced mine, the blue irises burning. The pain in my body intensified. I
tried to pull my wrist out of his iron grasp. My throat squeezed, and I alternately
coughed and gasped for air.

“Kara,” I called out, my voice weak. No way she heard that. My vision shook. He was
pulling me under the currents of energy. If I didn’t regain control, I’d be a dead
necromancer. Cora’s words from the journal invaded my mind . . .
maybe Danielle lacked the strength
.

Rasping my teeth, I dug deeper and ripped more power out and into Adam. The effort
threw me back on my ass. Blackness overtook me.

I drifted in and out of consciousness, barely registering when Ewan picked me up.
I was shivering uncontrollably and whimpered my complaint when he removed his arms
to place me on a couch. I heard a sigh and was faintly aware of him sitting next to
me, but I was very much aware when he enveloped me in his arms again. They felt good—Christ—
he
felt good.