18 comments/ 19928 views/ 45 favorites Son of Blood and Bone By: freedomofnoise Author's Note: I'm a bit nervous as this is my first time ever posting to this site and this is my first time ever writing a story of this kind. Constructive comments both positive and negative are greatly encouraged and welcome. Also, I want to thank Khasy for editing this for me! I'd like to mention that this story is a work of fiction and any similarity between the characters and any live person is coincidental. If it is illegal in your jurisdiction to read material containing m/m romance between consenting adults then LEAVE NOW AND NEVA' COME BACK. Enjoy! -Freedom Copyright Disclaimer- ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Any unauthorized use of this material is prohibited. No part of this story may be reproduced without express written permission from the author. It looked as if a thousand sunsets had passed before her empty eyes here, though she couldn't have been dead for more than a few days. Her brittle shape, shadow less, weightless, encrusted with maggots, was adorned with silken webs of spiders, weaving intricate patterns in her spinal column. Darling, how scandalous of you to reveal your secrets once so aptly hidden beneath sinew and bone, I thought as I gazed at her white-washed skull. It glittered becomingly, iridescent in the light of the late afternoon sun, her yellowing teeth forever bared in an obscene smile. I'd never seen a sight so lovely. I was abruptly brought out of my silent revelry by the sound of heavy footsteps. I gazed over my shoulder as long legs strode towards me, coming to a stop next to my crouched form. I let my eyes slowly travel up the well-muscled legs, trim waist, wide chest and broad shoulders of the detective assigned to this case. When I reached his eyes I was met with bright blue irritation. I sighed and gazed back at the object of my admiration, the dead body of the fairy girl in front of me. "Tell me what you know, necromancer," the detective's deep voice growled. I met his eyes again and he broke the contact to look at the fairy's dead body, shuffling uncomfortably. I saw him roll his shoulders, no doubt itching to get the chance to stretch the wings he kept veiled. The Phari, fierce, beautiful winged beings that had fueled the images of angels for centuries, were never quite comfortable around me or my kind. Though I had been working with him in the missing person's unit of the New Parais Police Department for several years now, the detective, Cassiel Anson, had never gotten used to my presence. He'd made very little attempt to. I reached forward towards the skeletal remains of the fairy and carefully ran my fingers across a split rib bone where a miniature seed of nature's decomposing miracle had begun to bloom. "Despite her appearance, she hasn't been dead for very long. She'd been missing for seven days, most likely dead for five of them. It's very interesting, her state. It's not natural, even for the Fae, to decompose so quickly," I offered reluctantly, nervous to admit what I was really thinking. But Cassiel narrowed his eyes after a seconds' thought, hearing what I didn't say. "Abhorredson" He hissed, using the derogatory term for Necromancers that had been adopted after the Dead Man's War. I stiffened. The war had seen the rise of eight vainglory Necromancers called the Bone Eaters. Greedy and prideful, they had sought to conquer the world by using their extensive powers to sacrifice the living, human and supernatural alike, to bring the dead from the Wait, a limbo where confused souls stayed, and build an undead army known as the Horde. For decades, the Bone Eaters terrorized the world, leveling cities and decimating entire populations. The living fought valiantly but to no avail; the undead could never die. It wasn't until the Magicians rose from anonymity that the tide of the war changed. There were only two Magicians, an old, wizened man named Bael and his young apprentice named Max, but two proved to be more than enough. In a matter of weeks they defeated the Horde and freed the enslaved souls back into the Wait. The Bone Eaters, sensing their imminent doom, fled to all corners of the world to grieve their setbacks. In the aftermath Bael outlawed necromancy, and those whose very nature it was to practice it were persecuted. His crusade against my kind lasted for many years until his death and left an ugly scar. The world hated us. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, smothering the feeling of worthlessness and misplaced guilt, calming myself before I looked at Cassiel again. "Yes. This is the work of a necromancer. They most likely used her blood to bring several souls back from the Wait. Though I couldn't imagine the reason, they must've known the risk if they got caught." Cassiel heaved a heavy sigh. "Well do your work, Mars. We don't have all goddamn day." In truth, I hated this part. Entering the Wait and learning the secrets of the dead was no walk in the park. I would have to hold on to her until I was beneath her, around her, and consuming her. I would have to be her and hope within a short time she would in turn embrace me and tell me all she knew. I softly caressed one of her knuckle bones before wrapping my fingers around it and closing my eyes. I took a deep breath and focused my whole being on her cold, stiff, and wondrously lifeless bone. I murmured beneath my breath, "Oh, beauty, reach for me. Come to the one that is so like yourself." I felt the ink of the ancient runes carved into the skin of my hands and back grow cold and shift slightly. My sight shifted, and suddenly everything was awash in colors most would never see on a visible specter. Then all the world was gone. ******* In the cold and heavy mists of the Wait she candidly denied my touch, her spirit darting here and there until finally coming to a stop and turning to face me. Large violet eyes of the most uncanny hue regarded me curiously, alive and wanting. Her skin was colored a beautiful peach and her figure was petite and willowy. I liked her less this way. "What will you want of Laeyah, Son of Sin," she asked me in a voice imbued with the peculiar enchanting resonance of death. I could just make out the sing-song lilt that many of the fairy kind had when they spoke. "You have been taken from the world before your time. Only you and one other know who did this. Share with me their name, and I will leave you in peace," I whispered back to her. Through her transparent form I could see other spirits wandering around idly. I wished to leave before they noticed me, a living thing, here. The dead were a nosy lot. She took a step towards me and her hand rose to intertwine her fingers with mine. Upon making contact, they crumbled and I was bombarded with a series of images and feelings. The burning of my magic in my breast, the force that gave me life. Running through the darkness as I'm chased by the dead. Pale fingers. Pale hair. Pale eyes. Possessed by a swift and terrible coldness. Nothing. "The Bone Eaters will return, abhorredson," she whispered, "The beings of the living world will fall, as they are predestined only to decay, and the Horde will rise again anew. They will be tomorrow as they are also today but never will they be yesterday, for that's an entire day not their own." She said this in a voice filled with such sadness, such injustice, it brought me to my knees to lament that so much life she still had was wasted; but I had to leave now for the living had no place here. "Travel well, Laeyah," I said softly, tenderly, as I willed myself back to the land of the living. I opened my eyes and regarded her rotting corpse adoringly. I would only take her this way. ******* When I returned from the Wait the mist of the spirit world had frozen to my clothes and skin. I shivered as my runes settled back into place and all of those beautiful, indescribable colors disappeared. I stuck the tip of my tongue out and swiped it at the frost clinging to my lips and brushed away the clumps on my eyelashes. I don't think I'll ever get used to the cold after effects of visiting the other side. After I had relayed my news to Cassiel I was quickly bundled up into a car heading back to the precinct as the cleanup crew came in behind us. The entire ride back Cassiel kept his hands so tightly clutched to the steering wheel that the knuckles of his fingers stood out in sharp relief. I opened my own hand and look at Laeyah's knuckle bone before shoving it in my pocket. He didn't need to know I'd kept it. Before too long I smelled burning rubber and glanced over again to find smoke wafting up from underneath Cassiel's hands. I ignored it and gazed out the window at the city. New Parais was one of the first cities to be built after the war. It was made up of several Parishes, the largest being Zenith, villages, the swamps, and the St. Nathanael Cathedral. It was a beautiful city very diverse and populated and, in more recent days, dangerous. It was home. When we pulled up into the precinct parking lot, Cassiel stormed out of the car and slammed his door, large wings of the most brilliant white bursting from his back in a large flame. I sighed and followed the temperamental Phari into the building. Several of the human cops edged nervously away from the angry Cassiel as he stomped towards the captain's office, unconsciously fingering their firearms on their hips. Cassiel banged open the Captain's office door and barely waited until I was fully in the room to slam it shut. "Those evil bastards are back, Sir. That fairy girl, Laeyah Rael, that's been missin' for all these days, was found in Ville Amber. Her body was nothin' but a damn husk," Cassiel nearly yelled as he paced the short length of the office and ran a hand through his blonde locks. His wings brushed several papers on the Captain's desk which went up in flames that the captain quickly batted out before glaring at the agitated Phari. "Anson, you get the hell out of here before you set this entire place on fire," Captain Dempsey said in a smooth voice that harbored an undeniable power as he regarded Cassiel with sharp eyes. He was a strange being, of an origin no one, not even the ancient Phari, were quite sure of. He was a small male, an inch or two shorter than my small frame, with dark skin and dark eyes and what would've been a pleasing face if one were able to study it for any period of time. In the past, every time I had tried to look directly at him I found my eyes sliding off his face to gaze at a wall or the floor. Cassiel turned and opened the door abruptly, the tip of a wing brushing my face ever so gently. I gasped indignantly as I felt my skin burn but he kept walking pass me and out the door. I felt the weight of Dempsey's gaze settle on me as I lightly touched my burned skin, feeling along the welt that had risen. "Are you okay?" Do you even care? "Yes, Sir." "Tell me what all you've found out." Before I could begin he interrupted me. "Need I remind you, Mars, that my allowing you to work here is a rare gift even for one as powerful as you? I have no love for you, necromancer. If I, for one second, think that you're trying to protect one of your kind I will have you strung up outside of the Cathedral. Do you understand me," the Captain said softly. He took every chance he could to remind me that I was nothing but a dead, evil, worthless thing to him. Everyone did. It didn't make it any less hurtful to hear. I cleared my nervously throat before starting. "I understand, Sir. I... There is a Bone Eater in New Parais. From what the fairy girl showed me, I think...I believe it's Xesil Sanguis, the third of the eight. He took Laeyah's life blood to give bring back more than just a single soul. I can't say how many but I know for sure he's attempting to bring back the Horde." "You know for sure, do you, abhorred," The Captain hissed slyly. I chose not to rise to the bait. Silence reigned in the office for several moments and as I recalled the sight Laeyah's flaxen hair, her yellow teeth, and hollow eyes I dotingly rubbed her knuckle in my pocket. "Call the Magician," Captain Dempsey said after a time, "Tell Max the dead have returned to the city". ******* I went to the restroom after leaving Dempsey's office to inspect the damage Cassiel had done to my face. An angry red line cut itself across one of my cheeks and I was happy to see it was rather short but still stood out starkly against my pale skin. There was a smudge of dirt in the corner of my nose and my white blonde hair stuck wetly against my head from the melted frost. Dark, puffy bags hung heavily under my honey colored eyes and the runes that framed them had turned a deep shade of brown. I glanced down at the runes on my hands to see the same colored brown there beneath dirt and chalky remains of Laeyah. I returned to my office and leaned back in my chair with my eyes closed and a plastic bag of ice pressed to my cheek. I listened carefully to the flurry of activity in the main room of the precinct. "Magician in New Parais..." "I heard he sent back half the Horde by himself..." "...went mad after Magician Bael died..." "...hates abhorredsons, right? Ten dollars says he kills Mars the second he sees him." "The necromancer doesn't stand a chance..." I sighed tiredly and willed myself to relax but stopped as soon as I felt electricity dance across my skin. A hush came over the precinct and I walked into the main room to see all of the officers watching the front doors expectantly. They had felt his power too. The doors opened on their own accord and the Magician stepped through slowly, dramatically. I sucked in a sharp breath. The air crackled around him, Maximus Vadimus, and the electricity of his power danced along all of our skin. The brightest, greenest, most intelligent eyes I had ever seen regarded every one of the officers' coolly, meeting hard gaze for awed gaze, peering into each soul. His thick chestnut hair gleamed in the florescent light as he turned his head slightly to take us all in. He took a slight step forward again, his well-muscled body moving with the tempered power and grace of an animal. Yes, the few short weeks of war had molded him into an incredible male. He was exquisite. As his eyes came to rest upon me I was hit with his anger and hatred in the form of a painful flare of heat. His beautiful cupid's bow shaped mouth flattened in disdain as his leveled his stare on my own. He took another threating step forward this time towards me and I felt fear well inside of me and took a half step backwards. He blinked then shook his head slightly, taking a deep breath. Captain Dempsey came from his office and clapped a hand on the young Magician's back steering him into his office and firmly shutting the door. Released from his gaze, I sagged against the nearest wall, and ignored the curious looks my coworkers shot my way. I retreated into my own office and leaned against the door. Thoughts came unbidden to my mind like a poltergeist invading the forbidden terrain of the live world. I had never found a living thing so enthralling as him. I was hopelessly entranced by him; a ripe, plump cherry full of life and layers upon layers of feelings and odds and ends, none of them familiar before the last. Splendid. Intoxicating. Lovely. Divine. There is no other in this world as beautiful as him. And he hated me. Son of Blood and Bone Ch. 02 So sorry for the long absurd wait! Huge thanks to Khasy for editing this for me! I'd like to mention that this story is a work of fiction and any similarity between the characters and any live person is coincidental. If it is illegal in your jurisdiction to read material containing m/m romance between consenting adults then LEAVE NOW AND NEVA' COME BACK. Enjoy! -Freedom Copyright Disclaimer- ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Any unauthorized use of this material is prohibited. No part of this story may be reproduced without express written permission from the author. I was alone for all of five minutes before my office door exploded open and bashed against the wall to reveal the Magician. I sat forward in my chair and my eyesight shifted instinctively as my runes chilled and came to life across my skin. I prepared for a fight. Even as he stood there, straight and cold, he was still monstrously beautiful in all his malicious splendor. The aura of his life force flared brilliantly inside him, around him. Had I the time to study it, I would have been fascinated by its' white-bright purity with ends tinged in dark red rage. Tendrils of his aura reached out and brushed against the walls and floors, slithered over my desk and writhed around my feet. I tensed as he moved slightly, ready to destroy this beautiful creature if need be, and allowed for Captain Dempsey to entire my office. He glanced between us before heaving an exasperated sigh and turning to glare at me. I kept my gaze focused solely on the Magician's glittering eyes. "When you're done staring, Mars, let me know. And if you would be so kind as to reign yourself in so we can get on with business, that would be fantastic," Dempsey barked irritably. I shot the Magician one last challenging glance before stilling my slithering runes and focusing on my boss. Immediately my eyes slid down to his feet. "Is there something you needed, Captain? The Rael case was the only on my desk for the day and I was just getting ready to leave," I said as calmly as I could manage. "Tough shit. I'd like you to meet yours and Cassiel's new partner for the Bone Eater case, Max. Max, this is our friendly neighborhood monster, Mars Ellian. You two will be working together until you find the abhorred that killed the fairy girl, or until Mars dies. Whichever comes first. Get acquainted." Dempsey turned sharply on his heel and strutted from my office, slamming the door behind him, leaving me closed in a room with the very powerful, very volatile, presence of Max. He arched a dark eyebrow and regarded me coolly before parting his lips and speaking in a voice as intoxicating and befuddling as liquor," What the fuck kind of stupid name is 'Mars'?" Nearly melting in my chair, I managed to stutter out a reply. "It's...it's my name?" "Are you asking me?" "No..." "Whatever. Listen, Mars," he spat snidely with a roll of his eyes, "I'm no more eager to work with you than you are to work with me. If it weren't for your particular talents, I would've wrecked your evil ass by now. Problem is, even Dempsey says you're the best when it comes to finding bodies in this world and spirits in that other. So this is how it'll work: you sniff out the dead and I handle the rest. Got it?" I sat with my mouth gaping open incredibly confused and inappropriately aroused by Max's tirade. Yes, his voice had my cock hardening in my jeans but he was less than eloquent when it came to words. I let his monologue sink in for a split second before I launched myself out of my chair. "I'm not evil," I said as I began shoving papers into my bag trying not to look at him, the object of both my desire and consternation. "And I'm not only good for finding bodies. I can talk to them, too. Learn from them." I yanked the bag up and marched angrily around my desk, desperately holding back tears, to stand directly in front of him. Briefly, I marveled to find that we were almost the same height; my fascination with him had made him seem taller. Even through my tears I was captivated by the intensity of his eyes and I lost a little of my steam. "I'm...I'm useful," I finished weakly. Max kept his eyes locked on mine until the last of my new found courage abandoned me and I ducked my head. Clearing my throat, I scurried around him and opened the door. "Abhorred," Max called sweetly and I froze, "You aren't forgetting anything, are you?" I turned and saw him twirling Laeyah's knuckle bone between his fingers. I wanted to scream that he should dare touch her, one who so rightfully belonged to me in this state. I swallowed the lump of apprehension that had risen in my throat. "Give that back." He grinned and stopped twirling the bone and held it out to me. "What? This? Here, take it. Go on." I reached out and felt the very tip of my fingers brushed his skin before I snatched the knuckle and briskly walked away. I looked back once to see his grin had disappeared and his eyes piercing through me. I shivered and sped up, knowing, without a doubt, that for the briefest moment he had looked into my very soul and uncovered all of my secrets. ****** My nerves had calmed by the time I reached my home in Ville Aeren. It was a small community seated between the sparsely populated Swamp Lands and the ritzy Zenith Parish district. It functioned as a living and playing ground for both humans and supernatural alike. Though populated with less than friendly people, I loved the renovated condos and cozy cafes that lined the streets. I'd never known a place so quaint. "Valdburg, I'm home," I called into my quiet house as I stepped through the door. I waited a beat before I heard the near silent clicking of nails scurrying against the wooden floors. Valdburg appeared at my feet, leaning up against my legs as I bent down to pat his mummified head. The small Fennec Fox had been dead longer than anyone knew. I did not know who'd brought him back, why he was brought back or how he came to New Parais but he'd been my constant companion for many years. "Valdburg I hope you've been a good boy. There's a new police in town," I said as he trotted pass me and I followed him into my study. The large oaken desk sat at the center of the room framed from the back by a large bay window that looked out on the swamps. Wall to ceiling book shelves of deep mahogany lined the entire face of the left wall while pencil drawings and knickknacks covered the far right. Valburg seated himself on the thick rug in front of the desk as I took several steps into the room before stomping down. A satisfying click greeted my efforts and a panel of the wooden floor about two meters long rose slightly. Bending down I removed the covering to reveal one of my deeper secrets: a long box colored a dark red. I opened the box and let my eyes slowly wander the contents reverently. Bones. A slim ulna and radius of a young wood nymph, gone too soon before his turn; a hollow humerus of a puck, hated by all but missed dearly by time; the heavy, solid femur of a water giant, beautiful, strong and forgotten by those who walked the lands. A pelvis, a fibula and tibia, carpals and a sacrum...so many lovely bones from creatures both wonderful and grotesque. I was a son of bone, born from their crumbling, powdery remains, and they would forever call to me with their simplistic beauty. I took out Laeyah's knuckle, slender and feminine, and placed it in the box with my most prized possessions, replacing the lid and carefully lowering it back into its' hiding space before moving the panel back in place. It settled with a sinister snap, embracing my secrets with no shame as securely as a mother would her child. I was incredibly tired but I would put off sleep for as long as I could. The dream world was not as kind to me as Wait; there were those there who would not let me pass so freely in their world. I took a deep breath and stretched, noting dimly that Valburg had moved to perch silently on a book shelf. As I turned to leave the room I felt his inky black eyes, starlit with time measured in eons, settle on me mysteriously. I squared my shoulders and continued on towards the bathroom, unbothered by his knowing gaze. In all his years, I am sure he'd seen worse. ****** Hell was dark when I'd returned to it, black, ominous clouds churned slowly, obscuring a purple sky. The coal-black ground puffed underneath my steps, glittering with jagged metal bits in some places and slick with blood in others. The air was thick with the screams and suffering of the damned and the laughter of monsters. They pranced on top of them, those unfortunate ones, grinning and screeching in pleasure. Everywhere I turned the horrors of hell danced around me. My steps faltered at the base of a wide, obsidian stairway littered with the bodies of those once pure. At the top of the staircase was a giant throne made of black-marble and decorated with the grimly smiling skulls of kings, emperors, and gods. I sat upon that throne, straight as a knife's blade, with all the glory of my true nature unveiled. A shock of dark red runes snaked across skin made all the more pale by the rich color and white hair curled around my ears and neck. My mouth was twisted into a snarl that lifted one corner slightly to reveal a pointed tooth as sharp as the black fingernails I impatiently tapped against the throne's arm. My eyes, as black as the demons' and vultures' that swooped low above me, seemingly stared at nothing and everything. And there, with the weeping of tortured souls filling the air, manic cackling of demons, and broken, faithless forms of fallen angels lying at my feet, I smiled. I gasped and slumped to the ground as terror and sadness threaded a string made of self-loathing into my being. There, upon that throne, I was a monster. I was a godless monster, notwithstanding that ill, picturesque scene of purity having its' feathers plucked from its' wings in front of me. My ruins itched and strained underneath my clothing, strained towards the monster atop the stairs. Suddenly a hand as hot as fire from heaven itself came to rest on my shoulder and squeeze reassuringly. I looked up to a figure shrouded in blinding, white light and into a pair of bright green eyes. Heat from the being wrapped around my arm in a strong grip and pulled me to my feet. "Come from this place now, Mars. It is not your time yet," a voice both powerful and soothing whispered through my head. White wings as dazzling as the light the being was covered in and spotted with flecks of brown and gold unfolded from its' back and wrapped around us, brushing against my face softly. I caught one last fleeting glimpse of myself smirking on the throne. "It's time to leave this place, now. The world needs you," it said and so we returned to it. ****** Several weeks later I dreaded returning to work. It had been three, tireless weeks of conducting useless interviews and wandering through Wait to find more of Xesil's victims. The Bone Eater was incredibly elusive and we were no nearer to catching him than we'd been when we first discovered Laeyeh's beautiful, rotting corpse. Every dead-end shortened the fuse on my partners' tempers and in the last few days we'd been at each other's throats constantly. Though I'd spent most of my existence quietly taking the blows dealt to me by others, I'd found a strange courage since my nightmare. The memory of the shrouded being emboldened me, and I'd done less biting my tongue in the face of Max's abuse and Cassiel's aloofness. The Magician gradually, and grudgingly, began to treat me with more respect once he saw that I was a valuable and contributing member of our team. His change towards me made dangerous fantasies of love and life dance in my head until I had to remind myself that I was kin to the one that had killed his mentor. He would never return my affections. The sun hung low in the morning sky but already the temperature was on the rise as I made my way to work. It was going to be a grueling day and it was made all more apparent when I was immediately turned around and marched out of the police station by Cassiel. "There's been another murder," he stated gruffly as we walked towards a gleaming silver sports car, "You look like hell." I ignored him and instead I stared at the car, confused, until the driver's side window rolled down and Max's wavy chestnut head popped out. "We don't have all day, Ellian. Get in the damned car," he called out impatiently, his irritated green gaze obscured by dark sunglasses. Though I wasn't very large, I grimaced as I folded myself into the small backseat. Cassiel climbed in front of me and gave an annoyed huff as he tried to fit his long legs inside. "Is this vehicle necessary," he asked Max, aggravation clear in his tone, "standard detective vehicles-" "This is a standard detective vehicle. They gave me it to me in Bertram Valley. Besides we could hardly roll into Wenton's territory looking like cops. We'd be shut down before the doors unlocked," Max explained patiently as he pulled the car out of the lot and sped down the road. Cassiel snorted and turned to look out the window. My ears perked up. "Wenton? We're going to Zenith Parish?" I'd never been to the swanky, upper-class area of New Parais. Its' sprawling estates were inhabited by the richest and most powerful beings in the city. Few supernaturals lived there, but the ones that did played large roles in the politics between us and humans. Max glanced at me over the top of his sunglasses in the rear view mirror. Eyes eerily similar to those of my nightmare savior peered back at me; I'd never made the connection between it and Max before and I refused to now. I dared not get my hopes up. "The werewolf alpha's daughter was killed sometime last night. Drained of blood and dumped in a dry canal in Summit Parish. Wenton is furious. He's ready to burn every abhorredson in the city, registered or not." I blinked. That I loved death, I did not love dying or mourning. Pale, drawn faces and dark figures standing over a vulgar, gaping wound in the earth, a tomb filled with the remnants of things like me and the sound of weeping and rain mixing with the falling of dirt onto a casket. No, I had no love for that. I did not understand the alpha's strong feelings for his child; I felt no such thing for my own father. But Wenton was the strongest alpha in the region and he had a particular talent of speaking things into existence. If he wanted me to burn, I would. Max must have sensed my apprehension because he added shortly after, "Don't worry; I won't let him harm you. Not yet, anyway." It was the kindest his voice had been to me since our meeting and it made my stomach flutter. We arrived at the large mansion of the alpha faster than what the legal speed limited should have allowed. We walked to the door, the Magician leading the way, which swung open immediately. The wolf gave Max and Cassiel a once over before its' eyes landed on me and it growled and took a menacing step forward. "You," she snarled, her face halfway transforming into her wolf form. Cassiel's wings burst forward and spread wide, shielding me unconsciously, while Max stood casually leaning against the door jamb, seemingly bored. I felt my heart speed up and my palms start sweating. The runes on my faces began to chill and my eyes shifted and I got a glimpse of her intense orange aura that pulsed with a growing rage. One touch and I would have her sent from this world forever but if she transformed I would have a harder time getting my hands on her. Suddenly a large, brown skinned male appeared. He assessed the situation quickly with calm, almost bored, eyes the color of coffee. "Stand down, Tamar." Immediately the female settled, her partially transformed face returning to human form while Cassiel's wings disappeared from view. She continued to eye me distrustfully as the alpha led us through his house and into a sitting room. He was an imposing male, heavily muscled and tall. His closely cropped hair had traces of silver in it and his hard, cruel mouth was turned down. Wenton Agwang was profoundly handsome...and sad. He sighed as he stood before us carefully looking us each in our eyes, even Max, who'd removed his glasses, until he was satisfied that we understood our places. This was his home, his domain. "She has dead smell, necromancer smell, all over her," he said, jumping right in, with a deep voice that reverberated through the large sitting room, "I can barely smell her, my girl, my Tina, anymore." He turned and his fixed his intense eyes on me. "She smells like you, but different. Darker. Longer dead. Old and wrong." "Alpha Agwang," Max started, "We're sorry for your loss. Would you mind if we saw her body? We'd like to collect whatever evidence we can so we can find your daughter's killer." The alpha nodded curtly and led us down a hallway and up a massive winding staircase into the child's room. It was painted pink and a soft nightlight glowed softly on a low nightstand near the bed. A small, canine tooth sat next to the light and Wenton looked at it and sighed tiredly. She lay there, peaceful and still. Like Laeyah, her remains were dry and frail, a husk of her former self. It made my stomach heavy to think that one so young would be wondering the Wait, alone and afraid. I'd encountered children before, all of which had been met with violent and terrible ends. They'd always made me uncomfortable. I swallowed roughly. I would not enjoy this. "She was left in the canals in Summit Parish. My mate had followed her scent but just barely," Wenton spoke quietly, a slight rasp of grief in his voice. Cassiel responded with a hushed, "Saint Nathanael keep her," and Max nodded his head at me. I moved to sit near her on the bed hesitating before grabbing her small, dry hand. I closed my eyes and breathed, calling her name in the void between the world of the living and the dead. I vaguely registered Cassiel and Wenton leaving the room, the former asking questions about more missing pack members. I focused back on the girl as I felt her reach back for me. ****** She appeared sitting on a small rock watching me curiously as I approached her through the mist. I knelt in the ash gray grass at her feet and smiled at her encouragingly. She had the same dark skin and intelligent brown eyes as her father. "They will be coming to meet me here, but never you," she asked in an innocent voice. "I want to know who hurt you, where they took you." "You know," she answered simply. "Tina, I-" "You know," she said again cutting me off. Her eyes searched my face and she nodded slightly when she'd found whatever she'd be looking for. She reached down and to pick up a bright red jumping bug. I shivered in unease and discomfort as the mist began to frost against my skin. She laid the bug against the dark blue of a slowly churning rune on my forearm and smiled. "These followed me here. I like them. They're pretty. What are you?" " My name is Mars and I'm a necromancer. I came to find you because your father misses you very much. Tina, we need to know-" "Mars," she tested my name and wrinkled her nose. "You're a necromancer? No, you're not. You're alive. You're different from...him." "Xesil," I said quietly, "He bled you, Tina. He drained your blood so that he could bring ones like those here, like you now, back as slaves and make them do very bad things. You have to tell me where he is so he can't hurt your friends and family," I urged gently. She was a quiet for a long time, staring down at her feet before responding. "It hurt so bad. I was so cold." She gulped and gazed into the misty distance, her eyes going flat as she recalled the horror of her final moments. The barrage of final memories assaulted the souls here every so often, though in total reassurance I alone could convey their meaning; these people were dead. Son of Blood and Bone Ch. 02 Tina seemed to shake herself back to the present and looked at me. "Will you stay with me until my daddy gets here?" "I- I can't stay that long," I was getting nervous; a few curious souls had drifted closer to examine me. She hefted a tiny sigh of disappointment imbued with such loneliness that my chest ached in answer. I knew that loneliness too well. "I suppose I can stay a moment longer..." "Cool," she beamed, her smile making my soul quiver in a peculiar enchantment that she would retain so much life after death, "And could you tell my daddy something for me?" ****** I returned from Wait quaking so violently from the cold that I fell from the bed and banged against the nightstand. Max caught me in his arms before I managed to touch the ground and were I in a state to appreciate the strength in them I would have flushed with heat. He looked at me with concern in his eyes before lifting the tips of his fingers to his mouth and whispering. With my enhanced sight I could see the white glow of magic in his fingertips as he touched them to the star-burst rune in the middle of my forehead. I sighed contently as I felt a familiar heat spread from that spot and my shaking calmed. I willed myself to cut my connection to the Wait, allowing my runes to stop their frantic swirling across my skin and my eyes to adjust to the living plane. "Easy now, Mars," he said murmured. There was a flash of something in his eyes before that cold indifference settled back in and he pulled me to my feet as the alpha and Cassiel re-entered the room. "What did you learn? Did you find her," Wenton asked with desperation in his voice. I hesitated. "She loves you. V...very much," my voice cracked and I turned my back to leave the room as the alpha werewolf of New Parais, crushed under the weight of his grief, through back his head and howled in pain. Cassiel led the way back to the car as I walked behind a bit slower on unsteady legs. I felt Max come up close behind me, his sweet, warm breathe wafting against my skin as he whispered low enough for only me to hear, "Do you think that I did not see what you did back there?" I kept my mouth tightly shut and stared straight ahead. "I was contemplating letting you live because you are good at your job and I understood that being an abhorred was not your choosing, but I'm going to kill you for being a filthy, goddamned bone stealing thief," he hissed vehemently. I sped up walking, shaking with shame and tightly clutching Tina's small, sharp tooth in my hand. ****** Instead of taking us back to the precinct, Cassiel drove us to Baylon's Haunt, a small bar near my home in Ville Aeren that was popular among supernaturals. It was dark by the time we walked in and grabbed seats at the bar. The bartender, Harp, was the last of the Atmoperia fairy, beings that had the ability to manipulate the weather, and the owner of Baylon's. He passed us beers silently and I glanced around nervously as conversation around us ceased and we were subjected to heavy stares ranging from awe for Max to fear and disgust for me. Harp's eyes narrowed and the other patrons went back to their conversations; his immense power and quick temper kept them from acting on their fears. "Wenton informed me that four members of his pack went missin' last night," Cassiel said after taking a long gulp of his beer. Phari were not known to get drunk easily and I knew enough about Cassiel to guess this would not be his only drink tonight. "Three subs and his beta gone without a trace and we're no closer to catchin' the bastard who took 'em. Where do we even start lookin'? Wherever he leaves the bodies," he finished with a grimace. Before we could respond he tilted back the rest of his drink before standing and walking to the other side of the bar to a table with several other Phari. "With that much wolf blood he'll be able to enslave hundreds of souls. What say you, abhorred, about your brother Xesil," Max quipped in a slightly taunting tone. Uncertainty held my tongue for a brief moment. "I...met him once, many years ago before the war. I did not like him then either," I answered honestly as pale violet eyes rose up in my memory. The Magician shot me a surprised look, apparently not expecting my answer. "The war lasted for twenty years and has been over for another ten, just how fucking old are you?" "Two hundred and eighty two," I mumbled into my drink. They'd been quiet years, if not a bit lonely. Necromancers, being creatures that preferred the company of the dead over the living, were less than social. In all my time before the war I'd made the acquaintance of only two others. "Well...you look much younger," the Magician said after some time and I felt his assessing eyes rake my body like a physical touch. I was suddenly very aware of my shirt, soaked with the melted frost from Wait, clinging to my body. My hair was plastered in wet tendrils against the nape of my neck and my cock suddenly was painfully hard in my damp pants. Embarrassed beyond belief I jumped from my seat and made a beeline for the restroom. I studied myself briefly in the mirror noting that my runes had changed colors again before grabbing a handful of paper towels and attempting to blot my hair dry. After giving the same treatment to my pants and wringing out my shirt I left the restroom only to stop suddenly by a devastating sight. A tall, curvy female with long dark hair and amber colored eyes leaned against Max. She whispered something in his ear and leaned back to give him a bold smile. His beautiful lips curled in a wolfish smile and he responded in such a way that her cheeks blushed rose-red. It was disgusting, all that life in her. I'd never been attracted to females but I found her directness especially unbecoming. But I felt my heart ache as I watched Max. If only he would look and smile at me that way. If only he could see that I'm not a monster. I shook the ridiculous thought from my head and left Baylon's. As I walked down the dark street towards my home I berated myself that I would think the little kindness he had shown me these last few days meant that one day he would return my affections. I was a fool to love someone who'd based his very existence on ending mine. I stared pessimistically down the dark street, accented by the by the dull glow of shop and porch lights. A long, low growl sounded from behind me and stopped me in my tracks. I turned slowly. Three wolves stood on their hind legs with their muzzles pulled back in terrifying snarls to reveal jagged yellow teeth. Dirty patches of fur clung to their rotting skin and empty, black eyes stared at me with sheer aggression. Fear shot through me and my instincts kicked in making my runes cool to an icy temperature before they slithered with nervous energy. With my altered sight I saw sickly gray auras around the wolves and a luminous, lavender hand print on each head. These wolves were Wenton's missing pack members and Xesil was controlling them. They continued to growl and snarl at me, lunging forward only to be stopped short as if blocked by some invisible barrier. Though fear raced through my being I stood stark still, I only had to get one finger on each of them to unbind the souls and send them back to Wait. But even in their deceased and rotting states I knew that they'd rip me apart before I got the chance. Ultimately, the barrier disappeared and the wolves tore down the road toward me all strength, anger, and blind hatred. I felt calmness settle over me that I'd never experienced before and with sudden clarity I realized, knew down to the core of my being, that I would not die tonight. My runes flared and danced across my skin in excitement and time seemed to slow down. The ground shook at the large wolves charged closer, snapping loudly, and then I made my move. With only several feet between us I stepped forward and through the bodies of the wolves. For a short moment in time we shared a single form, me and those poor trapped souls. I stretched my arms and grabbed a hold of the souls and pulled us all into Wait. I thrust them there into the frigid, unrelenting mist, and caught a brief glimpse of three pairs of confused amber colored eyes before I stepped back into the living world. Two steps were all it had taken. I dimly heard the dull thuds of heavy bodies smacking against the asphalt behind me as an incandescent aura held me captivated. I focused on Max standing several feet down the road, staring at me levelly as he stood casually with his hands in his pockets. His attention shifted to over my shoulder as a roar sounded from that direction. I turned in time to see a massive wolf swipe a large paw tipped with long claws at my torso, tearing through my skin with ease. "Fulmen validissimum est in meum iussum!" The swipe whipped me around in time to see Max's aura become streaked with bright blue as he finished the incantation. A large bolt of lightning zigzagged from the sky to strike the wolf with a thunderous crash. I was blown backwards by the force of the strike and banged my head against the ground. My vision swam as a high pitched whine rang in my ears and my runes burned so hotly on my skin that I felt my blood begin to boil. I lifted my head to peer through thick white smoke at the charred remains of the wolf at my feet and was met with a pale lavender stare. Brother, I heard Xesil's voice whisper from the wolf's broken maw before the eyes went dark for the last time. Through the smoke I saw Tina flanked by four very large wolves. She smiled sadly as I struggled unto my hands and knees, the ground littered with broken burning pieces of cement. Leaning down she cupped my face and tilted it towards hers and in her brown eyes I saw my own black eyes and red runes reflected. Me, Mars, as I had always been: a monster. "You know, Mars, the Necromancer that's not a Necromancer," she said insistently, "You know." She lifted her hand and a red jumping bug sprang forth and took flight on clumsy wings. She watched it before leaning her face close to mine. "They followed me, now you follow them." She released me and began to walk away with the wolves, taking several steps before stopping and looking at me from over her shoulder. "And, Necromancer, bring fire," she stated simply and then was gone. I hung my head limply as I heard sirens flare up in the background and the murmur of curious spectators. Two large feet surrounded by blinding white brilliance appeared in my line of sight and I summoned the last of my strength to look up at Max. God, there was no other creature in existence as captivating as him. His face transformed into something breathtaking as his lips quirked into a crooked smile. "You are so much more than what you seem, Ellian. And to think, I was trying kill you," he chuckled as he shook his head before reaching out and softly placing a hand on my hair. His touch shot through my body, hot and forbidden, and I knew by the heavy, warm weight of it that I had encountered this touch before. I knew without a doubt then that he was the winged savior from my nightmare. I gasped... Then I promptly fainted. Son of Blood and Bone Ch. 03 Its' pitch was grating but musical and, despite the increasing volume of pain weaving through it, the sound just barely managed to drag me from unconsciousness. That sound, that awful sound so full of agony and anger, flung itself into the air where it hung suspended for a time, stubbornly refusing to die until it had permeated every corner of the earth. When a jolt of white hot agony raced through my body and abruptly cut off the noise I realized that that ungodly sound was coming from me. The pain abated slightly and through blurry, tear-filled eyes I was able to take in my surroundings. I was on a couch, naked from the waist up. I glanced down and looked away quickly but not before seeing bloody, jagged cuts that broke skin and runes and the sharp white of a rib bone. My stomach turned uncomfortably as I recognized the sea foam colored walls of my living room and the thick brown hair of the Magician beside me. I focused on Max and felt my misery decrease even more. His eyes were closed and his full pink lips moved quickly, whispering under his breath. Suddenly his eyes open and he raised a glowing hand and laid it on my open wounds. My back arched sharply and another yell as hot as hell-fire blazed from my throat. I wanted out of this world full of torment but as quickly as it had started it was over. I collapsed against the cushions, gasping, and looked down the length of my chest as I felt a twinge around my wounds. The torn muscles began to knit back together and then the skin until there was nothing left of the cuts. Even the broken edges of my rune reconnected in their bold, swirling patterns. I let my head fall limply backwards until I stared up at the ceiling. The healing had left me drenched in sweat and feeling exhausted. Max's face popped into view and he looked at me intently before speaking. "You alive, Ellian?" I opened my mouth to respond but only managed a dry croak. Max placed the glowing hand on my throat and soothing heat flowed through my shredded vocal cords. "I'm alive, yes," I responded after some time. He leaned closer and I felt his breath waft softly across my lips and I was instantly aware of the warmth of his hand still on my throat and my state of undress. I felt a blush start high in my cheeks and flushed down my neck and chest and I watched in horror as Max's eyes tracked its' movement. Bemused forest-green eyes met my own. "Pretty," he said with a smirk before his eyes narrowed in suspicion, "But you better start explaining to me just how in the hell you bleed red, Necromancer." I closed my eyes against the demand and arousal as the world began to spin and instead asked a question of my own. "How did you know where I live?" It was quiet for a beat before I heard Max's long stride leaving the room. I sighed and opened my eyes to stare at the ceiling again; though his absence left me feeling bereft, his question dug a little too deep for comfort. The clicking of paws against the wooden floor alerted me to Valburg's presence and in the next moment he was leaning two paws against the couch to look at me. A high pitched whistle rang from the kitchen and Max returned a short while after with two mugs of tea. He sat down next to me as I leaned back against the arm of the couch and handed me a steaming mug before glancing curiously at the mummified fox. His eyebrows rose. "It's illegal to bring back the dead, even animals." "I did not make him. He was in the state he's in now when he found me." "Found you," Max echoed and he looked more closely at Valburg before his eyes widened in surprise, "You...I know you! You are from the deserts of the Shiel," he said excitedly. Valburg's dark eyes studied him impassively. "Bael, took me there when I was younger," Max continued, "Do you not remember me, fox," he asked expectantly and I wondered briefly if the use of so much strong magic in one night had temporarily fried his brain. After a long silence anger flashed in the Magician's eyes. "I know you can fucking talk, you little-" he said and dove off the couch at Valburg who nimbly leaped out of the way. A thunderous growl boomed through the room and Valburg took a menacing step towards Max before lifting his nose high in the air and strutting from the room. What in the hell just happened? "Will you leave him alone? He is just a fox, he can't talk," I said tiredly as Max picked himself up off the floor and sat back on the couch. I took a cautious sip of the tea and sighed in pleasure. "Thank you for this, for everything," I said to Max. His eyebrows were still drawn low over his eyes in irritation when he looked at me. "I've always been able to feel the magic in your markings," he said while gesturing the runes that decorated my torso, "It is old magic, strong but foreign to me. I had to find a way to heal you while keeping that magic intact, which wasn't fucking easy, mind you." I nodded, distracted by how close he was to me and the deep, rich tone of his voice. He didn't seem to be looking for a response and we sipped our drinks in silence for a while and I gradually sensed the tension leaving his body. I took the time to study him more closely. Over the weeks I'd gotten few chances to really look at my Magician. His nose was straight and proud. His hair was thick and unruly. His lashes were short but full and curled becomingly over green irises that were even more stunning up close. Were I to scour all of creation I would never find another as beautiful as him. He eyes cut over to me and I felt my face heat in embarrassment at being caught. "How long have you been able to walk through worlds that way? It's something I've never seen before, even the Bone Eaters didn't have that type of power," he said abruptly, his tone accusatory. I moved from the couch and carefully began making my way towards my room. My body felt weak and my progress was slow and I got as far as a few steps before Max stepped in front of me and blocked my path. "You have red blood, ancient magic carved into your very being, and the ability to move unseen through the world of the living by stepping through the world of the dead, just what the fuck are you, Mars?" With each statement he took another step towards me until I felt my back press against the wall. "You better start giving me some fucking answers before you find yourself a permanent resident of that ghost plane you love so much," he threatened. "Let him go, Magician," a deep voice drawled from the doorway of my bedroom. Both of our heads snapped around to see Valburg sitting there with his eyes fixed on us intently. Max's smug smile was powerful and dazzling. "I knew you could talk," he exclaimed with excitement and I fainted again for the second time that night. ****** I opened my eyes to the roiling purple storm clouds that obscured the skies of the Abyss and the terrified and bound form of my younger self. I lay on a black slab of the same obsidian that shaped Hell's throne, stretched beyond comfort and securely tied by my limbs to every corner. A hooded figure stood over me, muttering spells, as blood dripped from my body, mixing with ink made from the tears of a dead god that slipped silently, sensuously, to the ground to be lapped up by hungry demons. A terrified cry brought my eyes back to my face as a hand pressed an instrument to my groin and carved a symbol there. My body was riddle with vivid markings that flowed and writhed, that lived, against my skin, changing colors slowly. "Infertility, as you will be as no other was before, nor ever will be again," the hooded figure hissed as it finished the carving with a skilled flourish despite my squirming. Setting aside the carving tool the figure pushed back its' hood to reveal a shock of black hair, pale skin and familiar honey colored eyes. Father. I stepped back from the scene, the memory, but couldn't tear my eyes away. My father raised a sharp dagger high above his head and began chanting a spell so powerful that it shook the whole of Hell. He sliced open his palm and dragged his hand over my face and chest. "My blood, my power." I took a step backward hoping to escape the horrible thing I knew would come next and back into something warm and solid. Strong arms encircled me and soft feathers brushed against my cheeks. "You should have not returned to this place," the voice whispered through my head again and I heard the near silent beat of powerful wings and was pulled high into the air. I looked down in time to see my father's face twist into a cruel mockery of a smile as he leaned forward to whisper into my ear. Though we were too far for me to hear, I knew all too well what he said: "Your blood and your life." Then he shoved the dagger into my chest and ripped a ragged hole into my torso, tearing out my heart. The clouds, pregnant with the suffering of things past, let loose their grief and began to pour down in discontent on the scene that was becoming rapidly smaller. As we rose above the clouds I closed my eyes and saw my father. He set back to work carving ancient magic into my still body as demons swooped in to devour my heart that he'd so carelessly tossed to the ground beside him. There I was, a monster made, and though I lay there, cold and dead, proof that there were things worse than necromancers walking this earth stood muttering over me. And I was not the only one who was heartless. ****** The next time I woke I was alone in my bedroom. I stretched experimentally, wincing at the slight ache in my side and soreness in my muscles. Though a masterful spell, the healing had taken quite the toll on my body. I relaxed against the pillows with a tired sigh, too afraid to return to sleep because of the memories that awaited me there. After a moment I heard whispers in the silence. So, Max, the object of my fascination for these last weeks, was still here. And he was talking to Valdburg...my dead pet fox. I dragged my hands down my face and huffed out a breath. This day cannot get any weirder, I thought optimistically. Immediately after the thought my hopes were dashed when Valburg entered the room followed by Max. "You're up," the Magician stated simply before throwing himself on my bed, causing me to bounce unceremoniously. I shot him an irritated glance and pressed my lips tightly together before responding. "I am..." "How did you sleep," he asked slyly, looking at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I think you know," I cut in before looking at him full on. His beauty took me aback slightly but I gathered my resolve and fixed him with a level stare, intent on getting answers. "It's called somnium vocantes, dream calling. It usually happens when Narcis starts getting rowdy but he hears the message as clear as the one you called and becomes intent on making your time in Unisys so much worse before you're saved." "Narcis," I questioned and creased my brow in confusion. Though I was familiar with the dream world, Unisys, and its' unpredictable nature, the few creatures who called it home were a mystery to me. In truth, they were as much a part of the living plane as I was but most of their power was harnessed in Unisys and thus they found little reason to ever leave. "He's shadow and doubt, that little niggling insecurity in the back of your head. He is the evening and darkness. He is the absence of light and god. He rules the dream world with a savagery that leaves no one unscathed," Max answered in a deep, ominous voice. I shivered. "He's a god." Max suddenly burst into laughter. "No, he's just a total asshole who gets off on scaring people when they sleep," he managed to get out, "I can believe you bought all of that!" He grabbed his sides and rolled around, his laughter shaking the bed. I scowled at him, beyond irritated with his vulgar mouth, obscure nature, and confusing actions. He went from trying to kill me to healing me to threatening to kill me to rescuing me, again, to teasing me. He was an enigma, this Magician, and I couldn't for the life of me figure him out. My irritation melted as I watched him in his happiness. I was lucky to have him here, in this city, in my home, in my bed, and I was intent on making this moment last as long as possible. I felt nearly two hundred years of loneliness lift and float away on the sound of his laughter and I stared in wonder at him. His laughter began to die down and turned on his side to face me, propping himself up on an elbow. "Jeez, you're a fucking dinosaur. Come on, Mars, it was funny," he chuckled, merriment still dancing in his eyes, lighting them beautifully. I reddened when I realized I'd been looking at him too long. Clearing my throat I asked, "So what is he exactly," looking at Valburg curled up and sleeping on the foot of the bed, then at the pale blue comforter covering my legs, then at the antique iron clock mounted on the wall. My eyes bounced around the room as I desperately tried to focus on anything but Max. "He's just a prick who I'll probably kill if he doesn't stop messing around in my head when I take naps." Which tells me exactly nothing about him, I thought wryly. "He is a Demanthara, the last soldier of Danaestrael, a Dream Walker who lived long ago and was considered a god of sorts," said a deep, voice from the edge of the bed. I looked towards the foot of the bed to see Valburg stilled curled up but now his black eyes were trained on me. I sat up and worked my legs, as weak as a new born kitten's, from beneath the covers around to the edge of the bed. I'd had more than enough in these last few days. What day is it, anyway? When I made to get off the bed Max's hand shot out and grabbed my arm and I looked back at him to see him glaring at Valburg. "I was going to say that," he muttered before looking at me, "Lie back down, unless you plan on crawling out of here, you don't have the strength to just walk around." I reluctantly relaxed back onto the bed, eyeing Valburg warily. "The Demanthara were soldiers created to protect Danaestrael when he started to lose his mind. Because Dream Walkers leave their actual bodies in this world and set their spirits free in Unisys, they're very vulnerable on both planes. Initially they were revered fighters with powerful dream influence abilities but desired to make Unisys their own. Then Danaestrael disappeared and they terrorized the dream plane for decades looking for him. It was up to the Magician, Elle, to get rid of them. Narcis only managed to live because the next Magician came into their power before she could find him and she died. He is now more powerful than his master ever was," Valburg explained. "And he's a complete pain in the ass and stupid to boot. I really hate him," Max added. Ignoring him I asked, "Where is he?" And what does he want with me? "Who knows, the point is whenever he starts coming at you, you call me. I want to know why," Max snapped. I felt the puzzled look he gave me mirrored on my own face but decided against responding to his statement. There was a stretch of silence and I briefly recognized rage and impatience cloud his feature before he was baring perfectly straight white teeth close to my face. "You better start answering my questions, Necromancer," he growled. "I-I don't know how I do it. I just...I just know I want to escape the dream, the memory. I just know I want someone to save me and then...you're there," I stuttered out honestly. The anger slowly drained from his face and quickly turned to surprise when Valburg landed silently, yet solidly, on his chest, the force of his weight slightly sinking him into the mattress. "You would take care to move very slowly, Magician," Valburg hissed, large leathery ears pressed back against his head. Max nodded slightly and Valburg sat back on his haunches and continued, "The volcantes is neither here nor there and Narcis is the least of your worries, Mars. There is a Bone Eater in New Parais." A pair of pale lavender eyes surfaced in my mind and I closed my eyes against the memory. Valburg was right, Xesil was our main focus and the sole reason Max was even in town. We needed to find him and soon before more perished at his hands to fuel the growth of an undead army. Max brushed Valburg aside and stood next to the bed, a slight frown drawing his eyebrows close together. "We can't wait for him to come to us again. There's no telling what he'll send next time," he said as he began pacing the length of the bed. A disgruntled Valburg curled up on the pillow next to my head and focused eyes filled with the fury of a thousand years on Max. "Humans, Wolves, Fae, Phari, Nacromancers, Magicians, and countless other creatures filled to the brim with blood powerful enough to bring back the Horde, that's what he'll send next time," Valburg hissed. I shut my eyes against the thought, exhausted beyond belief and ready to be done with this whole thing. As I dozed off I thought of Xesil, hungry for vengeance and power, walking like a ghost among New Parais, snatching living beings and sacrificing them cruelly to further his own twisted agenda. I thought of his victims, Laeyah, Tina, Wenton's pack members and how their last sight was pale lavender eyes. Eyes that watched, waited, and then harvested their blood. ***** When I woke again my body felt stronger than it had in many years. I stood easily and made my way to the bathroom, briefly wandering where Max was and stripping out of my pants before stepping into the shower. I sighed as the warm water began cascaded down my body and my muscles began to loosen. I began to wash thoroughly, being careful to gingerly run over the area where my wounds had been. As I worked a soapy lather on my body my thoughts drifted to Max. I recalled the warmth of his hands on my body as he healed me and the enthralling color of his eyes when he laughed and felt my cock become painfully hard. I reached down and began to stroke myself as my imagination ran wild with fantasies of us together. Glittering, heavy-lidded jade eyes would gaze at me full of lust. Kisses from soft pink lips would burn against my skin, trailing down my neck and lower. His mouth, so sinfully sweet, would wrap around my cock and suck lightly... I gasped as my orgasm shot up my spine and exploded behind my eyes. Groaning, I sagged against the glass of the shower door and watched as the remnants of my pleasure washed away down the drain. The glow of pleasure slowly left my body and I quickly finished washing up and stepped out the shower to wrap a towel around my waist. I walked into study and, ignoring the siren call of the bones buried beneath the floorboard, I sat down at my desk, opening the Bone Eater files to pour over them in hopes of finding something I'd missed before. Water dripped steadily from the wet ends of my hair to pitter onto my desk as I read the files. First there had been Laeyah, then an older Phari named Remiel, and then a Witch named Tracy. Another Fae, two humans, and one Succubus later there was sweet Tina and four other members of her pack. And none had any connection to the other, save for the Wolves. These creatures all had powerful blood in that it could be used to entice more than one spirit from the Wait at a time. There was no telling how many Xesil had drawn back into this world, one, maybe two hundred. And where was he keeping them? Each of the murdered beings were found nowhere near each other, from Laeyah in the larger park in Acre Village to Tina in the dry canals of Summit Parish. Where are you hiding, Xesil? I leaned back into my chair and pittering of the water droplets became slightly louder as they made contact with the leather. I recalled my first meeting with the Necromancer. I had been wandering the woods for a few days, shaking with chills from a fever that had burned through my body and ravaged my mind for a hundred years. I lay on the moss covered ground staring bleakly at the sky as the magic rushed through the runes on my skin, searching for a way out. It would be many more years before it would stop, only reminding me of its' presence when my runes changed color, temperature, and position. Son of Blood and Bone Ch. 03 He had been walking by slowly, a small herd of skeletal remains following after him, bright lavender handprints covering the domes of each skull. His skin had been completely black and smooth like polished ebony. His pale eyes had focused on me for before he cracked an evil smile. "Dying thing, you are pretty," he had hissed and waved a careless hand making one of the skeletons lurch towards me. The magic inside of me reacted immediately and I reached out and touched the foot of the undead and shoved the spirit from the corpse. I heard a surprised scream before the skeleton collapsed in a heap on the ground. I looked back up at the Necromancer and bared my teeth. "Leave me alone, demon," I growled, moving to sit with my back against a fallen tree. He had laughed dryly at this before squatting down near me. "I am no demon. You should know this, as you are like me," he said and curiously cocked his head to the side, "I am Xesil Sanguis, a son and servant of sin and death. But who are you? I know your face," he breathed and the enticing smell of decay wafted across my nose. I looked at him defiantly but otherwise kept my mouth shut, I didn't trust him. Up until that point I'd never met a Necromancer but had heard fleeting stories of how entire villages were being destroyed when one would pass through. He hadn't been patient, and instead of waiting for me to answer he had stood and stepped over me continuing into the forest. "I care not; you will be dead soon, which is a curiosity within itself: a dead thing that is dying. Much, much bigger things are going on than you." I shook myself from the memory as the pittering grew louder and more insistent. Irritated I shook my head free of any remaining water. When I was done the noise continued and I looked around for the source. I turned my chair to face the giant window looking out into the never-ending expanse of the swamp. I stood and walked closer to the window as a bunch of small things hit the glass. I squinted my eyes and tracked the movement of several bugs flying around clumsily outside. Red jumping bugs. A clear imagine of Tina holding a bright red jumping bug surfaced in my mind along with her words. Wood and water, water and wood. That's where you know he waits for you. And with a sudden clarity I understood all of Tina's cryptic words: Xesil was in the swamps. And the killings had been happening in my own backyard. *****