The Necromancer's Seduction (18 page)

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Ewan slumped into a leather armchair in the coven guestroom, spread his legs wide,
and leaned his head against the back. I noticed the lines around his eyes for the
first time. The muscles in his arm flexed as he lifted it to run his hand through
his hair. “Jesus, Ruby, why didn’t you call me to go to the fair with you?”

I tried not to dwell on the anguish strangling his words, tried to focus on something—anything
besides him, but I couldn’t help myself, couldn’t stop from staring at him. I planted
my ass on the bed’s edge, resisting the urge to curl myself on his lap, twist my hand
in his hair, and let his warm, strong arms envelope me. “I have to believe I can go
out and live my life without a constant bodyguard, plus I was with Adam and Kara.”

“Is that how you see me—as a bodyguard?”

How did I see Ewan? I didn’t answer. I rubbed my arms.

“You and Adam, your bond . . .”

“Adam is a revenant,” I said.

“You’re still drawn to him.”

I couldn’t deny his words. I was drawn to Adam, but not in a sexual way. I couldn’t
explain it, to Ewan’s obvious frustration.

“He’s dead,” he said, shaking his head, distaste seeping through his features.

“I know. So is my grandmother and now Brandon.” The hysteria rose in my voice. “I
don’t see you as my bodyguard, but I’m trying to hang on to pieces of myself here,
because everything else is insane.”

“I guess I’m part of the insanity?” The question hung heavy in the air between us.
He stared at me a moment longer, then stood.

I searched for a response, but the right words failed to cut through my foggy mind,
or maybe I was afraid of my answer. He stopped at the door and without turning said,
“I would have enjoyed riding the Ferris wheel with you.” He closed the door softly
on his way out.

His words hit me hard, with the force of a good sucker punch to my gut. I twisted
and collapsed on top of the bed, face down. Tonight had been the most fucked up of
nights. I lifted my upper body, the movement causing my necklace to sway in front
of me. I’d created another supernatural revenant, this time with no preparation and
practically no ritual. I wrapped myself in a warm cocoon of silk sheets. The necromancer
was growing within me, and she didn’t feel strange. I should have felt more afraid,
but I welcomed the power and let it comfort me.

Chapter Seventeen

I woke from a dream in which Cora had reanimated me. I remembered looking for a scarf
to cover the bone peeking out of the decomposed flesh on my neck. I asked her why
she raised me. Was she in trouble? She crinkled her eyes. “No silly. I need your help
to bake cookies.”

That was disturbing. Cora had never asked me to help her bake anything. I’m the worst
baker ever. Still in bed, I shook off the last threads of the dream. The clock read
too early, way before Kara woke up. I left her a quick note so she wouldn’t think
I’d skipped bail, then slipped into my clothes and left the coven’s house.

The overwhelming sweetness of the oleander blooms assaulted my nostrils when I entered
the porch where I’d raised Adam. Malthus lounged in one of the large wrought iron
chairs, arms spread on the rests along his sides, an emperor on his demon throne.
I’d decided on the way here to give him the benefit of the doubt, figuring the word
of a rational demon was more viable than that of a sociopathic necromancer.

“I’m glad to see you well. Ewan filled me in on the details of your ordeal last night,”
he said.

I wandered to the spot where I’d kneeled next to Adam’s corpse before bringing him
back from the dead. The tiles shined from a recent wash. I straightened my shoulders
and faced Malthus. “Did Ewan tell you what Cael said? That you knew he was behind
the murders, including my grandmother’s.”

Malthus didn’t blink. The only sound in the room came from the click of the ceiling
fan. He formed a steeple with his fingers, elbows braced on the chair rests. “Yes,
I knew Cael’s identity.”

I quelled the spasm of rage that swelled in my throat. I refused to sound like a hysterical
ninny in front of Malthus. I wanted to be calm and collected in my damnation of him.
“If you had told us about Cael from the beginning, we could have prevented Brandon’s
death,” I said, proud of my even tone.

“Nothing could have saved Brandon’s life, and don’t worry about the wolves. I’ll talk
to Mark.”

I fisted my hands. Calm and collected was not going to be easy. “What about Adam?
I didn’t have to raise him to find out about Cael. Why?”

I’d spent half of last night ruminating over the implications of Malthus’s deception.
The one that pounded my head the most was Adam’s totally unnecessary reanimation.
Demons did everything for a reason. No matter how hard I tried, I didn’t understand
it.

“Bringing Adam back was important for many reasons. He may still reveal important
information about the murders. Cael is not sophisticated enough to orchestrate all
the killing.” He regarded me carefully. “We thought once you used your power to raise
Adam, the person behind Cael would reveal himself to you.”

“You were using me as bait?”

“You were never in danger. Ewan was to see to that.”

A slice of pain cut through my chest. “Ewan knew about your plan?”

He tapped his fingers on the armrest and didn’t answer right away. “Ewan does what
I ask. He doesn’t ask questions.”

I sat on one of the chairs across from Malthus, my legs unable to support me any longer,
as he continued with, “Cael is one part of a larger problem. The sooner we find out
exactly what we are dealing with, the more deaths we will avoid.”

“You’re not going to explain the larger problem, are you?”

“I would if I knew.”

“Bullshit.”

“You have cause not to believe me, but it’s true. I’m trying desperately to find out
what’s going on.”

Malthus desperate?

He stood and regarded the faded porch screens. “You think I don’t want to find out
who is responsible for your grandmother’s death?” His voice was quiet, and I felt
my anger lessen a notch. I caught a glimmer of something—something more than the domineering
demon, something more than the fast-talking attorney. But it was gone, slipping from
my mind as quickly as a forgotten thought. He turned back to me, his expression blank,
voice back to its normal unaffected timbre.

“You’re right, Adam was not essential to locate Cael.” He paused. The ceiling fan
clicked louder in the silence, clicked against my eardrums in a jarring metronome.
“You see, if I had told you about Cael, you wouldn’t have raised Adam.”

I pursed my lips, trying to keep from screaming at his nonchalant expression. I bit
hard on the inside of my mouth.

When I didn’t respond, he said, “You would have left our meeting that day and returned
to your university nest, a shadow of the person you were meant to be.”

My body swayed slightly in the chair while my mind worked in a furious burst to process
his words.

“You are a necromancer. It’s time for you to embrace your power and use it to aid
us.”

I needed a chalkboard to scratch out the scream wedged in my throat. “That’s my decision
to make, not yours to manipulate from me.” My throat hurt. “This whole thing was about
me using my power?”

“No, but you are probably one of the most powerful necromancers to emerge in the modern
age. It’s important for us to understand the full extent of your capabilities.”

My head snapped up. “The full extent of my capabilities? What do you mean?” He didn’t
answer, and my rage bristled and clawed at the inside of my head, threatening to spew
at him with acrimonious venom. All of a sudden I felt like a rat in a cage, forced
to run an endless maze. Cael’s words rang in my head.
We’re pawns
. What did the demons want from me?

I wasn’t going to stick around to find out. “I’m done. I did what you asked. I raised
Adam. I want nothing more to do with you, any of it.”

“Do you believe you can go back to being an academic, knowing full well the extent
of your power, having tasted just a fraction of it?”

“The full extent of my power?” My laughter was shrill. “I think I’ve been lucky up
to this point.”

“Very well, go back to your cocoon, forget . . .”

“Forget?” My voice spurned his heresy. “You think I’ll forget about what happens when
I or people in my family use our power?”

The fan click-clicked above us.

The image of Adam’s hand flashed before me, reaching, grabbing for me after I forced
his corpse to wake, and I said, “You’re so horribly mistaken. I’m reminded about necromancer
power every time Adam’s bond crushes me with despair. I’m reminded when I think of
my grandmother. I’m reminded when I see my mother’s lifeless eyes.”

“What about your grandmother? Don’t you want to bring the individual responsible for
her death to justice?”

“How do I know you’re not lying about that too?” I let the bitter words thicken the
air around us before turning and leaving the porch. When I entered the foyer, I stopped
upon seeing a figure next to the door. His power swirled around me, reached into me,
willing me to look at him and see him, but all I could see was red.

I opened the door and left Ewan standing against the wall.

I called Adam and left a message asking him to meet me later at the park. Then I sought
the beach, as I always did when I needed to heal my soul. The small beach at the Presidio
certainly wouldn’t rival the Caribbean, but the Golden Gate Bridge in the background
provided a majestic frame for the shoreline. I pulled at my thin sweater, trying to
protect myself from the sharp gusts of the curiously cold wind whipping around me.
Even in this weather, morning runners, nannies pushing their charges in strollers,
and dog walkers filled the walkway and the shoreline.

I kicked off my shoes and shuffled my feet in the cold, wet sand. The feel of it oozing
through my toes and the gentle lapping of waves grounded me and helped diffuse my
anger and confusion. Malthus had lied to me, to all of us. Worse, though, was my fear
that Ewan had played a part in Malthus’s schemes.

I felt a familiar tug and scanned the beach. I saw Adam sitting on the short wall
that separated the beach from the sidewalk. I wasn’t sure if he’d show and found myself
relieved to see him. I shuffled my feet in the sand until I reached him and pulled
myself up on the wall next to him. I tossed the sand with my toes.

“So, is it true? Malthus knew about Cael this whole time?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He stared at me, blinked a few times, opened his mouth, then clamped it shut and turned
to face the ocean.

“If you say I told you so, I think I will kill you,” I said.

“I’m already dead.”

“Humor me,” I said, my voice cutting through lemons.

“Ruby, please, please don’t kill me. I have so much more to give, life to live.” His
voice dripped with sarcasm.

I glanced at him sideways. “I hate you.”

“Look,” he said, his voice turning solemn. “I know I can be a judgmental ass sometimes,
but I’d never say I told you so, especially not in this situation. Malthus duped us
both.”

In that moment, I realized how much I had grown to value Adam’s companionship. Most
of the time he exasperated me, not to mention the fact that he could kill me, but
he was more real than a lot of humans I knew. I drew lines in the sand with my heel
and noticed his wood surfboard charm sticking out of the sand. “Does your surfboard
magically expand life-size so you can take it surfing?”

He huffed a laugh. “No. I’m charging it with sand and sun.”

Our encounter with Sybil played in my head, him using the charm to repel her, his
helpless rage at her taunts about Jenna.

“I’m sorry about all this, about raising you.” I couldn’t stop the regret from seeping
into the bond. “I can send you back.”

He put a finger to my lips, silencing me. “Just don’t say anything.”

I nodded. I gently probed the bond, finding it quiet, matching our mood, so I laid
my head on his shoulder and stared at the ocean. I could never let my guard down around
Adam, but I could enjoy this moment. The wind twirled his blond locks around, occasionally
sending them across my face.

“What did Kara tell you about Jenna?” he asked.

“Not much.”

“We were trying out a mind control spell, and Jenna volunteered to be the test subject.
I told her it wasn’t a good idea, but she insisted. I should have argued more, but
deep down, I wanted to try the spell.”

I lifted my head to face him.

“Jenna was . . . she had a way with words.” A wistful look crossed his face. “We liked
to test out spells on each other.”

“Isn’t that a little dangerous?”

Adam’s laugh was bitter. “The spell put Jenna in a weird autistic-like state. She
could only move and act at my command.” He looked past me. “I could tell stuff was
going on behind her eyes, but she couldn’t do anything.”

“How did the coven react?”

“They expelled me. They didn’t let me see her.” He pressed his hand against the wall.
“I tried and tried to figure out a way to reverse the spell. I couldn’t think of anything
else. I could barely sleep. Stopped surfing.” He peered at me. “They wouldn’t let
me try any spells on her.”

I pictured him, a mad scientist locked away, Frankenstein obsessed with resurrecting
his bride.

“Sybil helped Jenna commit suicide, either at her request or against her will,” he
said. “I think she messed with Jenna’s head in an attempt to figure out the spell
I had cast on her.”

“Shit,” I said, my mouth hanging open. I could not have come up with a more tragic
story.

“One of my friends at the coven told me about her death.”

I wanted to offer some comfort, but couldn’t think of a gesture that wouldn’t fall
flat. He was torturing himself, his mind an Iron Maiden of his making. The spikes
speared me through the bond, and I winced from his misery.

He turned to me, sorrow etched deep in his eyes. “It’s too easy to lose control, end
up doing stupid things with your power, even when we think we’re doing something right.”

He stiffened and said, “It’s your royal demon-ness.”

I turned in the direction of Adam’s glare to watch Ewan approach. My nerves twitched
and tangled in the anger and sadness I felt over our situation. I missed our easy
conversations and the feel of his body, but after finding out about his complicity
with Malthus, I feared we’d never relive moments like those again.

He stopped at my side and looked at Adam, his lips a narrow line. Adam returned the
stare, blinked once, then turned back to the ocean.

“Kara told me I might find you here,” he said.

“We should talk,” I told him.

His eyes relaxed, and he nodded.

I swung around on the wall, my body facing Adam. “Thank you,” I said to him, my voice
almost a whisper. He didn’t say anything. I stood, my eyes still on him.

He finally pulled his gaze from the ocean and gave me a stare I couldn’t figure out.
His expression seemed almost desperate, but I couldn’t feel anything through the bond.
I hesitated, but Ewan put his arm around my waist, urging me forward.

“I’ll talk to you later,” I said, noting the hitch in my voice and refusing Ewan’s
effort to make me move. Suddenly, my head spun. I braced my hand on the wall, using
it to ease my knees to the sidewalk. I grasped my head with my hands.