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Authors: Mimi Sebastian

BOOK: The Necromancer's Seduction
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Cora had a separate shower installed when we modernized the bathroom, but we’d kept
the tub tucked in a cozy corner where I spent many evenings listening to music or
reading. I lit the candles mounted on wood pillars, standing along one side of the
tub.

Ewan slipped into the water and gathered me on top of him, and I luxuriated in the
feel of his hard chest and the hot water. His cock had hardened again and poked my
ass. I laughed. My smile was consumed by a quick intake of breath when he slid his
hand over my breasts, rubbing his palm over each nipple, then lowered to skim my belly,
and down to my throbbing pussy. He sucked and nipped my neck and earlobe while massaging
my slick folds until I pulled his hand away and, with my back still turned to him,
positioned myself over his cock. I heard his rumble of pleasure as I guided his hard
sheath into me, and with hands on the rim of the tub, I moved up and down, twisting
my hips, driving him deeper.

He clasped his hands on my waist and arched his hips up. I pumped harder and faster,
sloshing water out of the tub. My muscles squeezed his cock, and I slammed into him
and held my breath until finally I cried out in time to his own shout.

After a few moments, I moved off him, turned, and met his eyes. Our sex tonight had
exploded in a frantic need to drive out our frustration, then calmed to a soothing
pace in the front room. But now both of us wore serious expressions, as if this third
time had signaled a last ditch effort to hold onto something, and I knew we’d failed.
I opened the faucet and let more hot water drip into the tub. I nestled against his
chest, but even his warmth failed to ease my troubled mind.

 

Chapter Twenty

 

The next morning, I wandered toward the small coffee shop on campus, the crappy lecture
I’d delivered moments ago still giving me heartburn.

I kicked a small branch lying on the sidewalk. After last night, everything had taken
on a surreal quality. I was on sidewalks I’d walked countless times, but they seemed
strange, crowded by untrimmed bushes and weeds poking from the cracks.

I’d asked Steve to meet me at the café. I had to break things off with him. It wasn’t
right to him or Ewan to screw both of them at the same time—not that I had. I ran
my hand through my hair and crossed the street.

I rubbed my palms and inhaled the warmth and aroma of fresh brew once inside the crowded
café. I found a small table wedged next to the window where I read through research
notes while I waited for Steve.

“Hey, pretty lady.” I watched Steve take the seat across from me. “Lecture notes?”

“Research for a paper that I’m not sure I’ll ever finish.” I groaned. Steve’s hair
flopped at an endearing angle, more boyish than I’d seen him, making my task all the
harder.

He propped his elbows on the table and leaned toward me. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t
call me here to discuss your research paper.”

“No.” I smiled slightly. I’d rehearsed this conversation multiple times on the walk
here, yet every word, every line, escaped me, and I could only stare at the table.

“I know that look.”

“What look is that?” I lifted my gaze to him.

“The breaking-up-with-you look.”

I didn’t respond.

“Except we don’t really have much of a relationship, so breaking up doesn’t exactly
fit our situation, does it?”

“I guess not. That’s why I’m having a hard time figuring out what to say. It’s not
that I don’t want to spend time with you or that I don’t enjoy your company.”

He reached out and rubbed a stray strand of my hair between his fingers. “You’ve met
someone that you actually like.”

“I like you.”

“Let me rephrase. Someone who rocks your boat.” He let go of my hair and leaned back
in his chair. “Why is it that you only realize how much something means when you’re
about to lose it?”

My chest heaved at his earnest expression, tinged with regret. Steve would have never
worked out. We would have continued to see each other when it was convenient, comfortable,
with no real reason to explode in passion.

“No use dragging this out into some uncomfortable scene with yelling and hurtful accusations.”
He smiled, but his eyelids were stiff.

“No yelling,” I said.

He took my hand. “I hope he understands you better than I ever did.” He stood and
kissed my cheek, leaving me to slowly sip down the rest of my coffee, research notes,
as always, forgotten. I watched him walk toward the exit, and a sudden impulse to
chase after him gripped me, but I stayed rooted in place and watched the last vestiges
of my old life walk out the door.

* * * *

Ewan called and asked me to meet him at his place, which made me realize he’d seen
my house from its most intimate angles, but I had yet to see how the demon lived.

Once there, I admired an old samurai helmet mounted below a Japanese katana on the
wall, the same sword he’d used to kill the Frerac. His loft was big, but simply decorated
with interesting modern artwork mixed in with some cool antiques. I heard his footsteps
behind me and twisted around to see him coming down the stairs, shirtless. I stared
at the muscles rippling up and down his chest and arms, imagining him wielding the
delicate steel of the katana.

“Where’d you get this?” I fingered the sword.

“Would you believe me if I told you from an actual samurai?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I can bring the dead back to life?”

He laughed and crushed me to him, giving me a probing kiss. I surrendered to the hot
insistence of his lips. The anxieties and anxiousness I’d battled all day melted away
with the feel of his body against mine. I breathed his musky scent in deep, returning
his kiss with equal intensity. When he ended it, I leaned into him, enjoying the feel
of his body for a few more moments.

“Are you all right?”

“I am now.” I took a deep, satisfied breath.

He smiled against my hair, then drew back and looked at me. Maybe I should pinch myself
to make sure this man—demon, whatever—was mine. My desire must have shown, because
his eyes turned smoky. “If you keep looking at me like that, we may never leave this
room.”

“That would be a problem because?”

“Because we have big plans for tonight.”

“We do?”

“We’re going to a night club.”

I squinted at him. “Somehow I suspect you have ulterior motives, and this is not a
simple date.”

“You are perceptive, but then I already knew that.” He walked over to the couch and
picked up a long-sleeved black silk shirt that he threw on, leaving it unbuttoned.

“I like when you look at me.” He approached me and rubbed my cheek with his thumb.
“But I like looking at you more.”

The muscles in my cheeks quivered. How was I ever going to maintain any sense of sanity
around him?

He kissed me, licking at my lips and caressing my tongue. After a few moments, he
pulled away with a small groan and fell onto the couch. “Have you met a vampire before?”

“Before my mom died, she dated a vampire for a short time. I met him once. He was
intense, but sexy,” I added, enjoying the irritation that flashed in his eyes. I meandered
around his living area, running my hand over tables, trying to find clues, pictures,
anything to help me understand what passions drove this demon.

“We’re going to a vampire club tonight. The vampires will be interested in you.” He
paused. “Interested in
biting
you.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“The minute you step into that club, they’ll assume you’re a free donor. It’s important
they think you’re with me. Are you okay with that?”

“Depends. Am I with you?”

He lifted off the couch and sauntered towards me. I leaned away from him, an involuntary
reaction to the predatory look in his eyes. He lifted me in his arms, carried me upstairs,
and tossed me onto his bed. I suddenly felt playful and turned on my hands and knees
to skitter off the other side. He clasped one of my ankles, pulled me back to him
and flipped me around, trapping me with his body.

He didn’t answer my question—not with his voice anyway.

Three hours later, Ewan eyed my outfit one more time before we entered the nightclub.
“You look very sexy.” We’d swung by my house so I could change before grabbing dinner
and heading to the club.

He nuzzled my neck while his hand skimmed the skin of my exposed back. I shivered,
glad I’d chosen the dress—short, simple, but set off by a plunging vee in the back.
The material of the dress felt silky against my skin, as did Ewan’s touch. Being with
him like this felt delicious.

We entered the club and were assaulted by a techno beat that pumped in time to the
multi-colored strobe lights. Ewan took my hand, and we made our way to the bar, navigating
the clumps of bodies bumping and grinding.

I darted my head around and scooted closer to his side. I couldn’t discern the vamps
from the humans. I resisted the urge to rub my neck. Popular culture has fixated on
vampires, to the point where some movies and books have toned down their dark side.
Vampires aren’t shy about drinking blood and kicking ass, even the good ones. And
the truly evil ones? An encounter with one of those can only lead to one thing—death.

As my eyes adjusted, I detected flashes of silver in the eyes of some of the men and
women dancing. Over dinner, Ewan had explained that the vampires fed on the unsuspecting
club patrons, using their thrall so the revelers only remembered intense pleasure.
They never sucked too much, and the patrons kept coming back for more of the vampire’s
“drug,” evidenced by the packed club. I was amazed this place existed without someone
finding out its true nature. People will delude themselves about anything when they
want to. I should know.

When we made it to the bar, I shifted onto a stool and whirled to face the bartender.

“You must be Ruby,” he said, offering his hand. I shook it and smiled back.

“This is Lysander,” Ewan introduced.

I was surprised when Ewan had told me his friend was a vamp. More surprised at the
sandy-haired vampire standing behind the bar, dressed in torn jeans and a well-worn
black and white striped T-shirt.

“You’re a bartender?” I failed to hide my surprise, not that he was a bartender, but
that he looked so ingenuous, not what you’d expect from someone who probably hid dark
secrets in some underground chamber.

His grin widened, emphasizing the smooth planes of his handsome face. “Not what you
expected? Should I be dressed in black, hovering in the shadows?”

“Sorry, the last vamp I met had the black trench coat and all. Very vampy.”

“No black trench, but—” He leaned closer to me over the bar. “I can brood.”

I laughed. “I’ll leave the brooding to Ewan.”

Ewan grumbled in response. “Can you wait here while I go talk to some people?” he
asked, his hand on my shoulder. “Stay with Lysander?”

I nodded, content with hanging at the bar and learning more about the vampire.

“I’ll be back shortly.”

I knew from the look that passed between the two that Ewan wanted Lysander to keep
the hungry vamps away. I, too, had noticed the stares directed at my neck when we
arrived at the club.

Ewan leaned toward me and kissed me full on the lips, an additional warning, I supposed,
that I was not on the menu. I watched his body mesh into the crowd and turned back
around to see Lysander’s unreadable expression before he shifted it, giving me another
infectious smile. “What can I get you?”

“Surprise me.” I blurted the words without thought, a challenge to him, to myself.
Maybe it was the techno pulsing through my body, but I suddenly wanted something bolder
than my usual glass of wine.

Lysander gave me a crooked grin before facing the array of booze lined up behind him.
I watched him mix the concoction, noting the play of his arm muscles as he shook the
drink. He poured the dark liquid into a long glass and placed it in front of me.

“I created this drink.” He leaned an elbow on the bar and watched me with a silver
glint to his eye.

I bit my lip.
Here goes nothing
. My eyes widened slightly upon tasting the rich, almost caramel-like liquid that
seduced my mouth, going down to leave a sharp spicy aftertaste. The sensation was
sinful, and I regarded Lysander, taking another sip, images of him sucking on my neck
invading my thoughts. Christ. My face flushed, and I crossed my legs.

Lysander smiled, a casual smile that contradicted the flicker of heat in his eyes.
“If you weren’t with Ewan, I’d enjoy showing you what
that
feels like.”

“Here you are,” Jax said, taking the stool vacated by Ewan.

I hadn’t dragged my eyes from Lysander, and he waited a few seconds before greeting
Jax.

“Where’s the demon boss man?” Jax asked, scrutinizing me. “Jesus, he left you here
alone dressed like that?”

“I think the idea was that Lysander would scare off any would-be suckers,” I said,
tugging on my dress’s short skirt.

Jax leaned closer to me. “Who’s going to scare off Lysander?” He chuckled, giving
Lysander a side-glance that contrasted sharply with his teasing tone.

Lysander straightened and wiped off a glass with the bar rag, ignoring Jax. “Ruby
doesn’t have to worry. I don’t bite friends . . . unless they want me to.”

Although his comment was directed at Jax, his steady look was all for me. I focused
on my drink, feeling excitement and something more beguiling churn in my stomach.
Lysander was Ewan’s friend, but he was dangerous. So was this drink. I already felt
the fog penetrating my brain.

“Why are you here?” I asked Jax.

“I’m a blood demon, remember? Plus Ewan asked me to come and provide some back up.”

Back up? Ewan had explained the club might be a good place to pick up some information
on Cael. Lots of supernaturals frequented the club, and someone might have spotted
him talking to other supes.

Jax read my apprehension. “Don’t worry. I doubt we’ll cause too much trouble. Ewan
can’t help playing general, preparing for the worst. It’s programmed in his genes.”

I filled my mouth with more of Lysander’s sumptuous drink. “Did you see Kara?”

“I stopped by her apartment before coming here.” He shook his head. “The witches turn
super secretive when the coven’s in turmoil. Kara’s tough. She’ll fight through the
crap.”

He must have noticed the worry cross my face. He leaned closer to me. “I won’t let
anything happen to her.”

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