63 comments/ 165274 views/ 795 favorites Path of the Necromancer Ch. 01 By: Intrepid_Fate Nine year old Ian Cale was about to die. The monster that had just butchered his sister turned its wild gaze on him and growled threateningly, displaying row after row of yellowish fangs stained red with blood. Its gore-spattered fur gleamed in the light of the campfire as it took a menacing step towards him, then another. Yes, Ian was about to die. The monster knew it. He knew it. It was a sure thing... until his sibling's body moved. It wasn't a natural movement; it jerked upright like some demented puppet master grabbed hold of her limbs and brought her back to life. That wasn't the worst of it, though. The worst was that Ian could feel her spirit deep inside himself. It was a chilling, bone-deep presence that called to him. He recognized the energy that remained of her, but the thing rising behind the blood-spattered beast 'wasn't' his sister. He shuddered and saw the reanimated corpse spasm in response, seeming to feed off his emotions. The huge, grotesque monster paused, appearing to sense her. Suddenly, it wheeled around, a massive, deadly claw streaking out to rend her midsection, shredding her lifeless skin apart and opening up large furrows. The cadaver's lips curled into an unnerving smile, seemingly unaffected by the damage wrought. A low, mocking laugh flowed out of her dead parted lips, the unsettling sound causing a shiver to run down his spine. Ian watched with wide eyes as the pintsized corpse backhanded the beast across the clearing, breaking bark from the tree it smashed into. The furred creature gave a startled yelp of pain and surprise that was abruptly cut off when the corpse, which Ian had expected to move sluggishly --like a zombie-, sprinted towards the fallen monster and wrapped her tiny hands around its neck. It seemed ridiculous that a savage beast that outweighed its opponent by hundreds of pounds could be losing in a battle of strength, but it was. The monster struggled under the corpse, arms flailing, trying to get leverage or cause enough damage to kill what was already dead. Ian saw the monster that'd killed his sister dying and felt satisfaction. The body that had replaced his sister cooed in pleasure at this emotion and her fingers ripped through the neck of the monster, cleaving through bone and tissue until she'd finally beheaded it. As if a switch had been flipped, the creature stopped its convulsions, resting still. Then its furred body began to mutate and shift. All those present heard the crackling of bones breaking. Where a few moments earlier there had been a massive, terrifying beast, now lay the naked, beheaded body of a man, still stained with blood. The corpse turned to face Ian and he could have sworn, for an instant, he recognized his sister in those dull eyes. She smiled sadly, somehow showing a spark of life in her grim visage. Her fingers seemed to reach for him in a final farewell, and then the corpse dropped to the ground, its strings cut. Ian felt the energy that represented her... what? Spirit? Soul? Whatever it was, it left her body and seemed to fade from his awareness the further away it traveled until it became indistinct, like a ship that had just sailed past the horizon. Ian dropped to his knees, knowing with a certainty more concrete than any he'd felt before that his big sister was gone. He vaguely became aware of an agonizing wail that had started up to the right of him and reality began to set in again. His parents, who'd been frozen in indecision and horror when the monster had first struck from the shadows to take his sister from him, now began to react. His mother seemed to want to reach out to caress the remains of Alice, but the memories of what she'd just seen had scarred her and she recoiled in revulsion. Ian was curious to note that he wasn't repulsed by her corpse. In fact, when it had been defending him, he'd felt oddly comforted. He hated to see his best friend and closest family go, but that last act... at least it felt like he'd gotten to say goodbye. His father was staring at him in equal parts disbelief and disgust. He knew that whatever it was that had happened with his daughter, his son had been the cause. Ian couldn't tell if he was disappointed that he'd lived and his sister had died, or because he was a freak. Frankly, he didn't care. He just stared at his sister's lifeless body until the fire had died down and the rescue team that had been flown in took her away. * * * * * The aftermath of the attack that took place while the family had gone camping in the Northern Cascades was depressingly predictable. The authorities couldn't make heads or tails of what had happened given the evidence. Ian and his parents made it seem like they had been traumatized, all of them stating they'd seen some kind of wild animal, but not really remembering much else. This, in and of itself might not have been enough, but the medical examiners found something fascinating in the beheaded man's DNA and soon the government was involved and everything was hushed up. At home, Ian's parents became distant with him. He never did find out if it was because they blamed him, they were suffering from the loss of Alice, or they were afraid of him. Needless to say, being around them tended to get uncomfortable. It was for this reason that Ian had started going to the public library after school and staying their until dinner time, where he'd then suffer through a tense hour with his parents before disappearing into his room. One late afternoon, while he was perusing through the deserted stacks, he saw a book cover that stood out to him. It looked like an ancient tome made of handbound leather that appeared more than a little out of place in the modern paperbacks of the Scifi/Fantasy section. Taking hold of the cover, it slid out easily and he felt a sense of rightness and belonging about it. Looking down at it in his hand, he knew he'd check the book out without even knowing what it was. However, as he approached the front desk, something made him tuck it under his arm and keep walking. When he approached the front door of his house, he heard his parents shouting again. By the way they immediately stopped when he entered, he knew the argument had been about him. Sighing, he turned and walked up the stairs and into his room. Shutting the door, he set the book on his desk and turned on the desk lamp. As he reached for the book, he was startled when it flipped open on its own accord and an impatient, masculine voice barked, "Fucking finally!" Ian was surprised, but he didn't feel fear. He supposed seeing his sister get torn to bits, then watching those bits reanimate and kick the crap out of a monster straight out of Lovecraft's nightmares helped him look at talking books with some perspective. He began to see a glowing presence surround the tome and could tell when it turned its attention on him. "So, you're the new meat," it said, sounding unimpressed. "You don't look like much of a teenager, have you even hit puberty yet? Some master of the dead you are..." The spirit paused, looking him over then admitting, "At least you aren't some dark prince wannabe like my last client. I swear, if I ever find out who started the goth trend I'll shove my ethereal boot so far up their ass their future descendents will shit leather. Can you believe that prick actually asked me if drinking blood would make him stronger?" Ian stared at the open book, taking in the outburst and the ensuing rant. Finally, not really knowing what to make of this situation, he said simply, "I'm nine --not really a teenager." Ian thought he sensed surprise and... curiosity? "No kidding?" the spirit asked, sounding like the boy had just done a neat trick that deserved further investigation. "Well, they say the younger you are when your powers awaken, the more potential juice you have to throw around. I've never actually heard of anyone performing magic before they were eleven. So, what'd you do?" Ian understood the question. His reality had been severely jarred when that beast had jumped out of the shadows, but when he'd felt his sister... seen her react to his emotions, it had been like someone turning on a light in a dark room you were trying to navigate and realizing you weren't anywhere near where you had thought." "I brought my sister back-" he cut himself off before he could say 'to life.' His sister had never really been alive as that thing. The spirit whistled. "Heavy stuff. Most noobs just end up moving an object without really meaning to," he explained. "Well, let's get the obvious stuff out of the way. Congratu-fucking-lations your necromancer. I know... what the hell does that mean? There are lots of different kinds of magicians out there. Sorcerers that are good at mind magic, wizards that can control the elements, druids that heal and do shit with their tree hugger friends -all kinds of folks, you get my drift..." The spirit sighed, as if going over something he'd had to explain a hundred times before and went on, "Your realm of power is that of the dead. While you can power Spirit Magic with the limited energy that resides inside your body like most other mages do, your main resource is channeling the energy found in spirits, souls that haven't crossed over yet, and ghosts, spirits that have used their energy to manifest themselves. Pausing, as if preparing himself, the spirit gave him the bad news, "Since you have an almost limitless resource to expend, and since necromancy doesn't exactly have the best reputation, what with everyone thinking you're a bunch of corpse diggers..." "You mean I don't have to dig up corpses?" Ian interrupted, more than a little hopeful. "Certainly not," the spirit exclaimed, sounding offended. "They almost always dig themselves up." Ian paled a little. "Now," the learned ghostly presence continued, "necromancers tend to be... destructive. Because of their constant contact with the dead -which aren't all that coherent themselves-, they tend to go insane more often than not." Ian's eyes widened. "Aaand," the spirit drew out, coming full circle, "since everyone thinks you're all loose cannons with a freaken ton of power... They see nothing wrong with removing your kind as a potential threat. It's actually one of the only things all of the different communities agree on." At Ian's confused look, the spirit sighed heavily and told him, "Let me spell it out for you. 'Hate' might not be the most appropriate word for what every other magician, and most supernatural creatures, out there feel towards you --it doesn't seem strong enough... EVERYONE wants to kill you. Even other necromancers --those that have managed to survive this long- will feel threatened by anyone who might be able to take control of their minions. You, my young friend, are fucked." Just then, he heard his mom shout that dinner was ready. Shakily getting to his feet, Ian went downstairs and collected his thoughts. What he'd been told seemed outrageous, but he was passed disbelief. The curtains were already pulled back and it was only a matter of understanding the details. In a way, not having any conversation at the dinner table helped him order his thoughts and come up with a list of priorities. His parents kept glancing at each other and his dad looked angry. Ian knew there would probably be a change happening in his future. He didn't know what it was, but he'd stopped worrying about the little things since Alice had died. They just didn't seem to matter anymore. Back in his room, Ian opened with, "who are you exactly?" The spirit looked surprised. "I guess we did skip that step. Usually it's covered at the beginning when the client is freaking out about the talking book..." Answering Ian's question he said, "I'm an Archive. Every magician gets a sort of training manual in the hopes that they don't accidentally blow up the planet or something. This comes in different forms, but they're all essentially spirits that have been bound to the task of providing information to their clients. You manifest a power, you get one of me. Don't you feel lucky?" A thought occurred to Ian and he swallowed nervously and asked. "So, you told me everyone wants me dead and now you're telling me there are people that know about me. Can others sense me?" "Well yeah, but-" the spirit was cut off as Ian held up his hand. "How do I hide myself?" Ian questioned, desperate to keep his family out of any further harm. He knew he couldn't take on another magician, or anything else for that matter. That time in the forest had been a fluke, and though he didn't know how, he felt that his sister had used his magic rather than anything he did. She was gone now and there would be no one to save him next time. The Archive, apparently grasping the gravity of the situation, flipped the book open to the right page and said, "Place both hands on either side of the guide and look at the words." Ian glanced down at the pages and saw weird symbols that seemed to meld together. "Don't try to read it," the Archive demanded. "Just picture what you're seeing in your mind." Ian felt his vision spin as he tried to do what he was told. He didn't feel any different. The Archive said, "Now, think about hiding yourself." Ian's eyes widened as he suddenly felt like he was experiencing someone else's memories. "Do the exercises you learned. Try the one about blending into the background." It took almost fifteen minutes, most of it used to calm his mind. He visualized himself standing in front of a white wall. Slowly he concentrated on blending his image into the background until he couldn't make out the slightest difference in the canvas. Finally, the Archive sounded his approval. "You've just about got it," he said, sounding astonished. "Another mage would have to be in the same room as you to notice your presence." "These mental exercises seem to only work so long as I'm concentrating. I don't have the discipline to maintain this all the time... What about when I'm sleeping?" Ian complained, sounding frustrated. The Archive agreed, and there was a newfound respect in its tone when it said, "You're right. Though, just the fact that you thought to hide yourself is impressive." Ian made a cutting motion and said, "Let's skip the part where I think I'm invincible and then get wasted. I know I'm on the bottom of the food chain. Now, how do I create a more permanent fix?" The Archive said, "I don't know if you'll be able to pull it off at this stage in your development. It requires learning a bit about wards, some enchanting, and knowing how to infuse runes with your power." Ian knew he didn't have time. He might have been young, but he wasn't so naïve to think he wasn't in danger. It was like one of the video games he'd played. Just starting out, everyone could kill you. The trick was to train until you were strong enough to venture out. Only here, he only had one life, so he better make damn sure he was prepared before he revealed himself to anyone. Turning back to the book on his desk, he said, "Just walk me through the steps and we'll worry about the 'why' later." It took nearly an hour to prepare his mind and draw the symbols just right. He had no idea how to call on his power, let alone infuse the markings with it. Eventually, he managed to envision what he wanted done and when he found the right state of mind, it just happened. No hocus pocus, no long chants of gibberish. At least, not with necromancers. The first time he felt the energy gathering in his core, he almost threw up. He could tell it wasn't the same, but it still reminded him of when he'd felt his sister. It was like tasting curdled milk and then every time you smelled it for the rest of your life you got sick to your stomach. "Watch it!" the Archive shouted. "No, don't let it go!" Just then, Ian was thrown backwards by an explosion of green fire that seemed to eat sound itself. Ian slammed into the wall next to his window and his vision blurred. He felt numb all over... and then everything went dark. * * * * * The two malevolent magic users that had been approaching the city, eager at the chance to drain a newly awakened mage dry and steal their powers, glanced out the window of their car in confusion. The taller one turned to the shorter and muttered, "I can't sense the presence anymore." The shorter one grunted. "It was cut off abruptly. Looks like someone else took them out before we could," he said disgustedly. He leaned forward and slammed his fist down on the dash. The taller man nodded. "It's a shame. That was quite a kick we felt. They would have made a nice meal." "Speak for yourself," the shorter grumbled. "The power felt dark, most likely a warlock. I hate having anything to do with those devil worshipers. Always makes me want to take a shower afterwards..." The tall one laughed. "You're getting soft. So, do you want to try to find the one who killed the mage?" The shorter man rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I can't sense anyone at all. We could search the city for days only to-" he paused. Turning quickly to the other, he demanded "Did you feel it?" The taller nodded, his features twisting into a menacing grin. "Another one --to the north." He swerved, catching the exit they were about to pass and gunned it. The hunt was on. * * * * * Hours later, Ian's eyes unglued and he blinked the fuzziness away. "Oi, you okay down there?" a voice filled with worry and something akin to awe asked. Grumbling to himself about asinine questions, Ian checked himself. He felt incredibly sore, but he didn't think he was seriously hurt. "Why aren't I burned? I'm sure I remember fire..." Ian asked himself aloud. The Archive gave a snort. "That's Spiritfire, kid. It doesn't mix well with the living. If you had shot that at an unshielded mage it would have probably killed them. I'm still trying to figure out how you're still alive. Necromancers can channel the stuff, but you were wide open." "Why did it happen?" Ian asked picking himself up and righting his chair. "Because you lost concentration," the Archive groused, sounding annoyed. "I told you to direct the energy into the symbol. You can't just gather it and then let it go. It has to go somewhere..." Ian nodded and then groaned as he felt a massive headache coming on. Sitting back at the desk, he began going through the exercises again, working to hide himself before he started collecting energy for a second time. "Hey, hold on a sec," the spirit told him in a panic. "You're not going to try it again are you?" Ian answered by continuing. The Archive huffed, "Well, you're determined, I'll give you that. You might actually survive long enough to become something worthwhile." After awhile the Archive wondered, "You know, I'm surprised as hell your parents didn't check up on you. You hit that wall pretty hard... I'm sure it shook the house." Ian gave a distracted grunt. He could probably have been playing Russian roulette up here and they wouldn't have cared but for the possibility that he might make a hole in the wall. After a much smoother effort, he was able to infuse a glowing symbol onto a sheared off piece of his binder -apparently the energy burned through paper too fast... Once he'd repeated this process two more times he went about placing the wards around the house before returning to his room to cast the last part of the spell. Even then, the barrier that would keep him hidden wouldn't be as strong or last as long as if he'd used more permanent wards. In the end though, it should be good enough until he could work a better solution. Still, Ian knew he probably wouldn't sleep soundly anytime soon. The next day, Ian had just returned home from school and was utterly exhausted. Not only had he gotten hardly any sleep the night before, but he'd had to concentrate on keeping himself hidden all day as the wards he'd constructed only covered his home. Path of the Necromancer Ch. 01 'Home... Funny, it doesn't feel like home anymore,' he thought sadly. 'Not since Alice died.' He sighed and pushed open the front door, his mood having turned melancholy. Sitting on the sofa in the living room, were his parents. His dad usually didn't get home until around six, so this was unusual in itself. The way they both nervously turned their heads in his direction as he came in told him they had been waiting for his arrival. His mother motioned to the reclining chair to the side of the coffee table. Ian, filled with apprehension, complied. It looked almost like an intervention. All of a sudden, worries about what he'd done the night before flooded his thoughts. 'They can't have found the book... could they?' 'The Archive wouldn't reveal himself to anyone.' 'I'm sure I made the runes around the house discreet enough to escape notice.' "We need to talk," his mother started out, wringing her hands, and Ian doubted if he could find more appropriate words to portend doom if he tried. "You must have noticed that things have been... tense lately." Ian nodded slowly, his heartbeat picking up, but trying to keep from showing emotion, like a soldier that closed his eyes in the hope that a mortar strike would miss him. "Well," she continued, and her voice cracked. Ian saw, for the first time since the incident, just how ragged and worn she looked. "It's ju- just that we still don't kn- know what happened." Her voice caught and tears began falling, but still she barreled on. "It was all so confusing and horrible. I can't even think about my daughter without remembering that- that- hideous 'thing.' I just don't think I can take it anymore." Her shoulders dropped after her confession and she collapsed back on the chair. Ian's eyes widened. He supposed he should have known his parents would have had a completely different experience than him. Still, why were they... At Ian's confused expression, his father sighed and put a hand on his wife's shoulder. "I think he deserves to be told straight," he stated gruffly. Turning to his son he told him, "You're a reminder of what happened. I don't know what it is you did that night, but seeing you everyday makes it impossible for us to move on. We can't live with you anymore." Each declaration was said firmly and with finality. In a way, Ian appreciated his dad's straightforwardness. His mom's eyes widened and she cried out, "Don't say it like that." She reached out and grasped her son's hands and brought them to her lips. "I'm so sorry dear, but I just can't get over your sister. We'll of course still provide for you. It's just, we need some change." Ian stared at her. She might have thought she was being kind, but he knew she was essentially saying that the night Alice had died, she lost both her children. Being told by your mother that you're dead to her has to have a certain impact on a nine year old boy, he was sure. But he didn't have a clue how he should feel. Should he blame himself? Should he break down and cry and beg her not to leave? Should he fear being alone? In the end, Ian just sat there and took it in. He barely registered his father's next words as he said, "Look, my firm has been asking me to come work at their main office for months now. You don't really want to go to some boarding school, do you?" Ian absently shook his head no. His father nodded his head, expecting the answer. "The housing market is crap right now. We figure you can just stay here until your eighteen and by that time we'll probably be able to get a better offer on it anyway. Alice's funeral is on Sunday. We'll be moving to Chicago the week after. The firm has a set of condos they lease out to favored employees." Seeing his son's mind was elsewhere, he grabbed Ian by the shoulders, trying to get him to recognize the importance of his next words. "If anyone asks, just say we're out of town and you have people checking up on you. We'll tell my firm you're living with your mom's parents. The store is just two blocks away and we'll open a checking account with a monthly allowance in your name and get you a debit card." Standing up, his father finished and spread his hands. "Internet, TV, and phone will all be paid for. You've never needed a nanny even when you were younger and I know your sister always said you were a bit of a loner at school so you should be fine on your own." His mother looked miserable and kept opening her mouth like she wanted to add something. 'Probably making sure she's expressed an appropriate amount of maternal worry,' Ian thought unsympathetically. Finally, she stood and went into her husband's arms and they both left for their bedroom. Ian stayed in that position for the next few hours, contemplating nothing and everything. One minute he'd feel sorry for his mother, the next he'd rage, 'They never asked how I was handling it. I'm the one who has to face a dangerous new world where everyone wants to kill me. They just have to learn how to cope with the past.' He sighed. Perhaps it was better this way. Now they wouldn't be put in harm's way when others came after him. Ian was jarred from his thoughts when he heard his parent's door open. Probably his mother about to get dinner ready, he guessed. Not wanting to face her yet, he snuck up the stairs. Upon entering his room, the not unkind voice of the Archive commented, "You look like shit." Ian grunted, still trying to clear his head. He dumped out the contents of his backpack on the desk. On the way home, he'd stopped at an arts and crafts store. The Archive had said a popular 'poor man's solution' to his problem of keeping himself hidden outside the house was to carve runes on beads and enchant a bracelet or similar sort of trinket and simply wear it. The mechanics of hiding a moving person were apparently completely different from warding a house. What that translated to Ian was another sleepless night. He sighed and sat down on his office chair and got to work. Five days later, Ian stood in the rain, ignoring his new suit that itched like crazy, and watched his sister being lowered into the ground. The service had been closed coffin, of course. Even then, Ian had his doubts about whether it was really his sister's body with all the government attention the case had gotten. Actually having felt her soul leave the body, Ian didn't really care what they did with it. He'd already said his goodbyes to the real thing. He studied those that had come to pay their respects: His parents, of course. One of Alice's teachers. A mousy young girl named Rachel that had been Alice's best friend, and her parents. There were also a couple of people that had just been visiting and followed along. 'Who does that?' Ian wondered, shaking his head. Looking across at his parents, huddled underneath his dad's umbrella, Ian replayed the conversation he'd had with his parents that morning. Apparently, one more week was more than they could bear. They were leaving that night on a redeye, the movers having boxed up the essentials and were already en route to their new home. He sighed and looked at the hole where the coffin had descended. He reached out with his senses -Yup, definitely 'a' body down there. He bowed his head and prayed as the pastor rambled on about how this shocking tragedy was all ordained, trying to direct his thoughts in the general direction he thought he'd felt his sister fade in. He closed his eyes and thought, 'Wish you were with me, sis. You were always the stronger one. You'd know what to do if you were in my place. Though, if everything the Archive says is true, it's probably better this way. I might've had to run away if this had happened while you were alive and I don't think I could survive you hating me. I miss you... Even at the end you got to play the big sister card and pull my ass out of the fire. Who knows? I might just be the one to join you soon." Ian opened his eyes and was surprised to see a large gathering of men and women walking down the hill in their direction about fifty yards off. They looked to be from all walks of life. He stretched his senses and then felt his hands clench into fists. They were like the man in the woods that had killed Alice. It felt like their essence had been twisted by magic, leaving a cruel imitation behind. They passed as human, but they were no more 'normal' than his sister's reanimated corpse. He shivered as he looked underneath the surface and saw their warped souls. He knew then that someone had created them -an entirely new race. They had probably been some sick creator's dream of the perfect predator. Werewolves, the Archive had called them. Enhanced strength, enhanced speed, enhanced senses... Ian stepped away from the gathering and towards them. The pastor, having just reached his stride and oblivious to the approaching monsters, continued to provide comfort and peace for the bereaved. Ian knew if they attacked there was little he could do in time, especially when he faced dozens of them. However, the Archive 'had' mentioned something about not counting one of his kind out just because their heart stopped beating. He also knew that the middle of a fucking cemetery was NOT the place to screw with a necromancer. The werewolves stopped at a distance in a grove of trees, some of them looking decidedly nervous. Ian stood just outside the gathered circle and watched them. They looked like they had come to pay their respects. Some had even dressed up for the occasion. An elderly-looking man took one step forward and bowed his head. Clearly, the larger group (pack?) hadn't agreed with what the lone man in the forest had done. Ian didn't care if one of them had gone rogue (rabid?). It didn't matter that they came. It wouldn't bring back his sister. He simply waited, an immovable object, looking for an excuse to vent all the frustration and emotion he'd built up since this all started. Finally, the pastor finished up and Ian turned and got in line to get one last look at the coffin before the diggers started filling it in. When Ian and his parents left for the car, a quick glance showed that the grove of trees was now empty. * * * * * ~Nine years later~ The busty blonde giggled uncontrollably, more than a little drunk, and thrust her gifted chest in his face, the tight shirt accentuating every curve. Ian was happy to help her with those, grabbing hold of them and giving a light squeeze. As he fondled her tits, she pushed him down and straddled him on the sand. Ian's senior year of high school was over. His class had, for the sake of tradition, skipped the last day and gone down to the national park a few miles down the road. Being on the coast, if you made it through enough trees, you'd also find a secluded beach and barbeque area. And... being the conscientious young teens they were, they waited until after dark to bust out the booze and loud music. While Ian was enjoying a very delectable set of boobs and making out with the blonde, Gary, one of his classmate's, was by the campfire showing off how he could touch the flames, even hold it in his hand briefly. It looked cool, especially to a heavily inebriated crowd, though it was considerably less impressive when one knew what Ian did, which was that Gary was a wizard. He controlled the elements and had an affinity for fire. He didn't burn. Ever. He could have fallen asleep on that fire quite comfortably, but he was trying to make it seem like it was some kind of neat trick. Ian sighed, putting that asshole out of his mind and began tugging at the hem of the girl's shirt, wanting a look at those puffy pink nipples he guessed were under there. Ian supposed, looking back, it was obvious that a confrontation was going to happen. Gary was the type of kid that liked to be the center of attention and felt entitled. If someone else had something and he wanted it, well then life had apparently screwed up and he made it his job to correct the mistake. A half-naked lay qualified, apparently. The blonde's giggles rose an octave as she dug her hands into Ian's pants, distracting a few of Gary's male viewers. The pair was far enough away that the 'get a room' comments weren't shouted, but no one had any question as to what the two were doing. Finally managing to unclip her infernal bra, he popped one of her nipples into his mouth, finding it every bit as delicious as he'd dreamed. He moved his hands to her tight, jean-covered ass and ground her hips into his. Her heated breath picked up and Ian had a brief prickle of panic as he tried to recall if he still had that condom in his wallet. Gary started off trying to correct life's great mistake of the night by using his status and trying to bash Ian and his nonexistent reputation. The hopes that this would lead to something however, were dashed when he realized his audience was much too drunk to follow him down that path. After going through half a dozen plans, he finally settled with a loud, "Hey, check this out," whereby he then tossed a fireball the size of a marshmallow like he was shooting a basket. The onlookers watched as it arced high then slowly floated down to land on the blonde's ass. Ian was startled by the sharp, intense heat, having been fully ensconced in his ministrations, and he flinched before delivering a sharp slap to her juicy tush, injecting a small amount of willpower and intent in the motion. The blonde moaned from the involuntary spanking and ground her hips into his groin more vigorously. The simple motion shouldn't have been able to extinguish the fireball while Gary was still maintaining it, but to all the spectators it had simply looked like Ian had beat the flame out. Having just seen his plan backfire, and being under the effects of both alcohol and youthful thinking, he got up and stomped his way over for a more direct confrontation. Watching the situation develop was Rachel. One year older than Ian, the same age his sister had been. She stood 5' 4" with a healthy C-cup and long frizzy hair. The quiet, reserved brunette had actually been his prom date, though they both knew it had only been matter of convenience. She was also probably the only one at the cookout that didn't at least have a buzz. Extremely intelligent, it hadn't taken her long to put the pieces together about what happened between Ian and his parents. Perhaps initially she'd felt sorry for him and that's why she'd befriended him. Maybe it was because she didn't really have any other friends besides Alice at the time and they shared each other's pain. Whatever the reason, she began hanging out at his house a lot, even tutoring him in math. It was probably her influence that caused Ian to skip a grade. As she watched the boy she'd pegged as an 'insipid, insufferable bully' approach Ian, she had an uneasy feeling -as if this wasn't going to be a simple measuring contest, but something more serious. Rachel knew there was an aspect of Ian's life he never told her about. Something that would cause him to stay up all night and to lock some of his doors... She'd notice strange things, like odd items around his house or finding him reading anatomy textbooks during lunch even though he'd never shown any interest in becoming a doctor. Ian slipped his hands into the blonde girl's jeans -quite a feat as they hugged her ass like a second skin. As he squeezed, he slid his fingers lower, just barely reaching the top of her mound. She gave a lusty moan as he pressed down and rubbed his middle finger into the crease. Gary tried to get his attention by throwing some backwards complements that weren't so unintentional. Ian ignored him and concentrated on his prize. He didn't think much of the wizard. For all he knew, someone as dumb and pretentious as Gary might actually believe he was doing him a favor by cutting in. That is, he ignored him until Gary kicked sand into his face. Ian froze, the wasted chick still grinding against him, oblivious. He gripped the girl atop him and steadied her, gently placing her down beside him. Gary smirked and started unbuckling his belt, "Yeah, that's right. Thanks for warming her up for me, now fuck off." Ian stood slowly. When it became clear that he wasn't leaving, Gary jumped back and threw out his arms. "Oh ho, you wanna go, huh," the wizard mocked. "Come on, bitch. I've got a black belt in Taekwondo. What do y-" He was cut off as Ian's foot slammed into his balls. As Gary doubled over, Ian drove his knee into his exposed face. "Moron," he muttered, and bent down to check the girl who was looking around with wide eyes. Gary curled into a ball and howled in pain, some of his teeth were loose and he felt his nose bleeding. He rolled to his side and slammed his hand down, "That's fucking it!" Jumping to his feet, he screamed at Ian, "Do you have any idea who I am?! You're so fucking dead..." He raised his hand and the flames from the campfire exploded thirty feet into the air, causing the occupants around it to be blasted backwards and the rest to run for cover. Ian's eyes widened. 'Shit,' he berated himself. 'Pushed too hard... Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You knew he was unstable... but to actually expose himself? God damnit!' The smell of burnt flesh and singed hair permeated the air. Gary was laughing hysterically. "See! What did I tell you... You can't fight me. You had to fuck with a god!" 'A god?' Ian thought disgustedly. 'What an arrogant prick.' Careful to keep from making it seem like he was doing anything unusual --aside from not screaming and running in terror like everyone else-, he clenched his fist and tried to will the flames to extinguish. The pillar of flame compressed and steam actually started to rise. Gary looked shocked, then angry, and he went berserk, the flames roaring back and doubling in size. The crazed wizard pointed an arm at Ian and directed a huge gout of flame to launch towards him. Ian summoned an invisible shield and anchored the power to maintain it with the spirits he felt around him. That was one of his first lessons. Spirits were virtually everywhere. As he grew in power, he was able to see more of them and it was a constant battle not to be overwhelmed. The flame hit the shield and engulfed him, completely hiding him from view. There was a scream from the students and Gary turned towards those hiding behind the trees. He laughed maniacally and shouted, "Come out, come out, wherever you are..." 'He's gone,' Ian thought. 'Screw this then.' As Gary was about to direct another gout towards the other students he suddenly froze, his flames losing their magical potency. He coughed and fell to his knees, clutching his midsection. Ian had his hand extended towards the deranged wizard and pulled, clenching his fist as he did so. Gary's soul, still very much alive, was dragged kicking and screaming out of the inert body. It was a horribly inefficient process any halfway-decent mage would be able to shield themselves against, or at least make it difficult, but Gary was completely helpless under the assault. After he'd taken hold of the struggling soul, Gary's body slumped to the ground in an uncontrolled heap. Ian waved his hand like he was discarding a used tissue and Gary's soul dissolved into mist, crossing over. None of the students had seen the energy that represented the soul, of course, but they did see the flames suddenly die down and Gary's prone body. They could hear sirens in the distance, no doubt attracted by the lightshow. Rachel ran out from the cover of the trees and looked him over. "How are you not burned?" she demanded. "There's no way the fire could have missed you." When Ian failed to respond, she crossed her arms. "Fine. Keep your secrets," she spat. "Just make sure you have a good cover story when the cops get here because I'm sure everyone is going to say the same thing." Path of the Necromancer Ch. 01 Turning, she leaned down to check the blonde and Ian sat down on a piece of driftwood. He stared out at his first victim, knowing it wouldn't be his last. Gary's motionless body was still alive, but without a soul he'd wither and die within a few days. As the cops pulled up, it looked like they'd thought ahead and called the fire station as well as a couple of ambulances. Rachel sat next to Ian and blew out her breath, "Poor Cindy is traumatized..." Ian turned to her and raised an eyebrow, "Who?" Rachel gaped at him. "You didn't even know her name?!" she asked incredulously. "And you were going- going to..." She whipped her head around and huffed, "Unbelievable! You never stop to consider anything. This is like that time you were supposed to have been putting together a project all year and you just woke up early on the day it was due and cobbled something together." Ian shrugged and let out a heavy sigh. "None of that stuff seems to matter anymore after Alice," he admitted despondently. "And will you ever let me forget that project? It worked, didn't it?" Rachel's eyes softened at the mention of Alice and then shot him an impish grin. "Not as long as I live. I spent over fifty hours on mine and you still got a better grade than me. 'Professional website' my ass." She laughed at Ian's surprised look, knowing it was because she almost never swore. Apparently the night's events had loosened her up a bit. Ian shook his head and muttered softly, "With my luck, she'll be bugging me about it even after she's dead." Rachel shot him a curious look and said, "What was that?" Ian waved her off as a cute-looking deputy approached him. Tall, blonde, with an attractive face marred by a determined look, he couldn't tell her eye color with her back to the fire but he was sure it was something dazzling. Hell, she didn't even look that much older than him. "Hello," she said brusquely, addressing Ian. "I'm Officer Flores. We have a few questions to ask you and I'm afraid you're going to have to come down to the station. Do you know where your parents are?" Ian gave a neutral grunt and Rachel smirked at him. "See," she said in an amused voice, "they all pointed the finger at you. They'll probably hold you for as long as they can before finding a way to sweep this all under the rug." "And just why would we do that, miss?" the officer asked, a bit haughtily. She wished civilians would keep their damn opinions to themselves. Rachel gave a snort, clearly unimpressed, and explained, "Because I doubt you'll find any evidence that describes how we all saw a sixty foot pillar of flame. I also don't think you'll get a conclusive diagnosis of what's wrong with him." She indicated Gary's body, being strapped to a gurney, with her chin. "Finally, I see the daughter of a Fortune 500 CEO, the son of the mayor, and a niece of the Chair of the School Board all drunk off their feet. Tonight's event won't make the papers and you'll be under tremendous pressure to close this case. They won't wait while you fish for evidence that isn't there." She stood up and brushed herself off. Giving a cheery wave to Ian, she walked away towards her car. Officer Flores watched her, impressed despite herself, and a little miffed that it would probably turn out just like the girl had predicted. Unless they called the state police, which was doubtful, there wouldn't even be a proper investigation. She looked back at the boy everyone had said had been nearest to the person who 'might' have been the cause of the fire. Maybe just shy of six feet, he had a thick unruly shock of black hair that framed a handsome face and green eyes that glowed against the firelight. Coincidentally, he 'could' have been the one to initiate an attack. She sighed. This case was probably going to ruin her perfect record. "Parents?" she repeated. The corner of Ian's mouth curved up at that. "Away on business," he replied, in a tone that said he got that question a lot. Standing up, he brushed himself off and followed her to the squad car. He frowned when she made him ride in the back, but he supposed he should be thankful they weren't cuffing him. They pulled out onto a bumpy road that led into the city, though calling the hole-in-the-wall town a city was being generous. Ian leaned his head back and closed his eyes, muttering, "I was that close, too..." He sighed, resigning himself to keeping hold of his virginity a little while longer. Ian turned his attention to his beautiful escort. Leaning forward, he threaded his fingers through the bars and plucked a golden strand of hair. Officer Flores jerked her head and exclaimed, "Hey!" "Sorry," Ian mumbled absently and bowed his head, twirling the strand of hair around a finger and calling on his magic. His eyebrows rose as he got a snapshot of her life: Sarah Flores. Twenty-one years old, taking criminal justice courses at a community college, she was on the fast track to joining the FBI. Ian didn't think she'd look as good in the baggy blue field jacket as in her cop uniform, but he wasn't sure she could look bad in anything... He shook his head wistfully. 'Definitely way out of my league,' he thought, chuckling to himself. On arrival, he was escorted to an interrogation room, though they left the door open and were very informal about it. A suit sat across from him and began filling in a form, asking him various questions about his life and what happened that night. About halfway through, someone came in and whispered in the man's ear and they both got up and walked out, closing and locking the door behind them. Ian sighed. 'Looks like they found out about my sister... Something tells me they're not fond of coincidences.' Knowing what would likely happen when they reported tonight's incident, he began weaving a spell to hide his parent's location; a compulsion that would make anyone looking for them think it was a dead end. It was an enormously costly spell with numerous unknowable variables that required Ian to channel energy for close to ten minutes straight. Before he'd completed it, he decided to modify it so it hid Rachel as well, since they would no doubt start asking questions about him around town. When he'd finished, he was sweaty and breathing hard like he'd just run a race. He'd have to go back and anchor the compulsion to something later or it would eventually unravel, but it should hold for awhile. Officer Flores stepped into the room with a folder tucked under her arm. She sat across from him, looking angry. "So, Mr. Cale," she said, trying to maintain her calm, "want to tell me what happened tonight?" Ian shrugged. "Cute girls, loud music, ocean spray hitting me in the face... it was a fun night, before the fire exploded and everyone started running and screaming." Sarah waited and after awhile, raised an eyebrow. "That's it?" she asked incredulously. "That's all you can remember?" "Well, it was awfully hazy, ma'am," Ian said, leaning back in his chair and waving expansively. He leaned forward and whispered, "You know, I think someone must have spiked my punch, because I really don't remember much beyond the bright lights and the screaming." "Don't give me that shit!" Sarah shouted as she slammed her hand on the folder in front of her. She took a breath and calmed herself. "It's funny, that's almost exactly what you said the night your sister died, according to our transcript. 'Hazy...' 'Can't remember much...' You must have a crappy memory." She flipped open the folder to reveal one page of typed information. "Unfortunately, that's all the information we have of you. All the other records and evidence has been taken and whenever I search for your files in the database, it says they're restricted." She leaned forward and fixed Ian with a hard stare, "I already checked and you aren't with the marshals, so what exactly am I supposed to make of this?" Ian chuckled, "Apparently, that it's above your pay grade to know." Her expression turned stormy. "We're going to keep you here until we squeeze every last piece of information out of you. You might be laughing now, but we'll see how cheerful you are after a few nights in the hold." Ian sighed. "Unfortunately Officer Flores, I'm afraid I won't be remaining in your custody much longer." Sarah looked pissed. She thought Ian wasn't taking her seriously. "You'll stay until I'm damn well satisfied you had nothing to do with this incident. I don't know who you think you-" She was cut off by a sharp rap on the door and the sheriff stepped in. He was almost bulled out of the way by two suits wearing FBI badges. Ian groaned. They were earlier than he'd expected. Seattle, where he assumed their office was located, was a good two hours by car. Most people took the ferry, which was closed at this time of night. That meant someone had sprung for a helicopter. The first agent stepped forward and assessed the situation. "You're done here, officer. Sir, you're free to go," he said gruffly. Ian nodded and stood. Officer Flores sputtered angrily, "Just who the hell do you think you are?!" The sheriff tried to quiet her, hands out in a placating gesture. He said, "Calm down, they're taking over the investigation. This goes way above us..." Ian gave her a pitying look. She was one of those people that couldn't let things go once she'd sunk her teeth into them. She'd dig and dig until she buried herself. Sarah didn't care what authority they had, they'd just got here and their first decision was to let a prime suspect go. She was about to make an issue of it when Ian paused next to her on his way to the door. Leaning down towards her, he murmured, "Let it go, Sarah. There's more to this than you know. Just keep your head down and don't jeopardize your chance at getting into the FBI." Sarah's eyes widened in surprise. She could usually tell when someone was being honest or not and this guy actually seemed to be genuinely sorry. As he approached the door, the two agents watched him carefully. The one who'd stepped in first told Ian in a neutral voice, "Please stay in town in case we have any questions." Ian had to struggle to keep the smile that spread across his face appear sincere rather than condescending. "Of course," he replied thinly, and stepped past. Leaving the station, he made his way quickly through the cold night towards his house. He knew the government didn't believe in coincidences either... He'd initially been surprised that they had let him go, but he figured they must've known they wouldn't be able to contain him without magical support. It made much more sense to lull him into a false sense of security and then take him when they were prepared. Arriving at his house, he caught sight of Rachel sitting huddled on his front steps, her arms hugging her legs to herself. She looked up as he approached and a relieved look crossed her face. "So, they let you go after all," she said, smiling. "Something like that," Ian agreed. He opened the door and invited her in. While he made them something to drink, already inventorying what he'd need to take with him when he left, she paced his living room nervously. She stopped suddenly as he set the drinks on the coffee table. "Some night, huh?" he ventured. Rachel nodded distractedly. After a pause, she finally blurted out, "I have to know what happened." She blushed and then went on, "I mean... Well, you know how I am. If I don't know how something works, it's just going to drive me crazy. And with me leaving for college soon..." She sighed. "Look. This is going to going to be all I think about unless I get some sort of explanation. I just don't think I can move on with my life until this is resolved." She paused as a look of pain crossed Ian's face for an instant before he recovered. Ian was thinking about how his parents had said nearly the same thing. It would kill him to know that he was the reason his closest friend couldn't move on with her life. Rachel reached out and cupped Ian's face, kicking herself for causing him pain when she knew he'd suffered so much already. She was a person that tried to see both sides of every situation, but she hated Ian's parents vehemently for abandoning him. Ian looked into her soft brown eyes and breathed deeply. He closed his eyes and leaned into her delicate touch. No, he told himself. She wasn't like his parents. They had gotten one look at the gritty darkness that was reality and had gone running for the hills to bury their heads again. Rachel actually wanted to know more about his world. He didn't want to alter her path in life, but he supposed she deserved to be told something before he left. Just as he was about to open his mouth and try to explain himself, he felt an unfamiliar softness brush across his lips. His eyes shot open in surprise and he saw Rachel turning her blushing face away from him. 'Why did I do that?!' she berated herself. 'I just wanted to comfort him. How did that turn into a kiss? I don't feel like that about him... do I? Oh god...' Ian watched as she buried her face in her hands in embarrassment. Finally able to recover, he reached out and tilted her chin towards him. "Let's try that again," he whispered in a husky voice. He drew her in for another kiss. It started out chaste, neither of them very experienced. Slowly, it morphed as they're lips accepted each other, tongues darting out to steal a taste. Ian was lost in a heated caress that put all his past experiences to shame. He worked a hand in her long hair and cupped the back of her neck. Her scent was driving him wild as they both learned what worked and what didn't. Ian was so lost in the simple joy of their embrace, that he was surprised when he felt a sense of vertigo as Rachel pushed him back onto the couch. She straddled him and wove her fingers into his hair, pulling him back, her scorching lips latching onto his once more. Ian's hands roamed up and down her sides, reveling in the feel of her tight curves that were always hidden behind the frumpy sweatshirts she normally wore. Sliding his fingers underneath her shirt, his hands roamed upwards until they managed to unclip her bra. She shot him a sly grin before reaching down and pulling her shirt up over her head. As she slid the bra down her arms, Ian was delighted to see the action pushed her beautiful tits together. He leaned forward and took a lovely pink nipple into his mouth, licking circles around the nub. Rachel moaned and thrust her neglected boob at him. Grinning wickedly, Ian was happy to oblige. The attention she was getting was making her squirm in need, involuntarily rubbing herself against his crotch. Rachel was jarred out of her bliss as she felt Ian's cock twitch in response. She pulled back and looked down at his lap. Slowly, a smile spread across her face and she shot him a mischievous look. "That looks uncomfortable," she murmured. Ian could only laugh at that. "It's your fault," he responded, smiling. "Oh it is, is it?" Rachel replied with a lusty moan. "Well, then maybe I should see about taking care of that." With some trepidation, she lowered herself to the ground and began fumbling with his belt. A boyfriend had broken up with her Junior-year because she wouldn't do this for him. It hadn't been that she was against the act, she just hadn't wanted to be with a guy that would draw the line there. She finally managed to get his pants open. As she pulled back his waistband, she let out a squeak of surprise when his stiff cock bobbed upwards suddenly. Seeing a boy's prick up close for the first time caused her to pause, taking in the scent, registering every detail. Slowly, she leaned in and gave it a tentative lick. Ian moaned as her silky tongue caressed the tip of his hardened member. Seeing his reaction urged her on and she began licking up and down the sides of his length. Rachel reached out a hand and played with his balls hearing Ian's breath pick up in response. She reveled in the power she had, controlling his entire world through her actions. It was addicting. She began twirling her tongue around the tip of his cock and slowly moving deeper along its length. She learned that he particularly enjoyed it when she engulfed his prick with her hot breath. She would blow out as she lowered her head down, then suck hard as she came up. Ian was going mad, his senses seemingly firing error messages and telling him to call back later. His eyes narrowed into slits as he looked out into the room above her head. He was distracted by a spirit that was trying to manifest itself into a ghost, but didn't have the energy to do so. He raised a hand to banish it, still focused on Rachel's heavenly treatment when it began flying around feverishly. Finally, curiosity got the better of him and he fed it a small amount of energy. Slowly, a wraithlike image of undeterminable gender began to take form. Not bothering to fully manifest itself, the ghost began frantically pointing back towards the front door. Ian felt a brief prickle of worry before it was blown into full-on panic as something slammed against his wards. The house shook and Rachel's head popped up, glancing around wildly. Ian jumped to his feet and grabbed hold of her hand. He threw her shirt at her and hauled the both of them up the stairs, tucking himself back into his pants as he went. "Ian!" a voice in his room shouted. "Time to go..." Rachel glanced around as they entered the room, trying to locate where the voice had come from. Her jaw dropped as her eyes fell on the book that was vibrating on the desk, cussing Ian out for taking so long. "No way..." she stated weakly. "Hey, sugar tits. So he finally brought you to his love shack," the Archive called out. "Did you fuck her yet?" he asked Ian loudly. Having become used to the Archive's vulgar mannerisms over the years, he ignored him. "N-nice to me-meet you," Rachel stuttered out. "Ian what...?" Ian came back from his closet with a ready bag he'd kept in case everything went to hell. As another blast rocked against his wards, shaking the windows, he figured this qualified. He tossed the Archive into the bag and zipped it up, throwing the pack over his shoulder. He reached out and grasped Rachel's hand and made his way down the hall to the room that used to be his sister's. "Come on, Rae," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "You just saw someone create a sixty foot inferno. A talking book shouldn't really be that unbelievable..." Waving a hand, the door clicked open and he burst into the room and began setting things up. Rachel was astonished as she saw his 'lab' for the first time. It wasn't a pretty sight. Dead things were split open on tables, green viscous liquid bubbled in a beaker next to a Bunsen burner. As she looked at the symbols scrawled out on the walls, she felt a sense of wrongness, as if they hadn't been meant for the eyes of others. Her skin crawled as an honest-to-God human skeleton in the back of the room turned its laughing visage towards her. She croaked out a weak laugh. "Well, I can see why you might have trouble telling me about this stuff." As she finished her statement, her voice rose to an uncomfortable pitch and she desperately tried to calm herself. 'Damnit, girl,' she chided. 'You were the one who wanted to know...' She silently agreed with herself, but it looked like she'd just stepped into Dahmer's basement. Rachel didn't know if she could be 'this' understanding. Ian froze in his preparations as he heard the desperate note in his best friend's voice. He shook himself. 'Too late now,' he sighed. Ian threw the sheet off the circle in the middle of the room, revealing a silver frame that had been imbued with ancient bastardized Celtic runes. Normally, a druid's teleportation ring would be powered by the Earth. He, obviously, had needed to go in a different direction when he'd constructed his. Path of the Necromancer Ch. 01 He flooded the runes with power and frowned as the entire circle flared red, failing to show an image of where he wanted to jump. He tried again, and was met with the same result. The Archive's muffled voice was coming out of his bag and he unzipped the top. "They've cast a net around the place!" the shrill voice of his adviser rang out. "Nothing is porting in or out. They've also apparently figured out that they won't be able to overpower your wards since they're powered by the dead. I think they've started draining it. You don't have much time." Thinking fast, Ian grabbed Rachel's hand and his pack, running down the stairs. He passed by the living room and sent his power into his parents' bedroom, unleashing a surprise he'd prepared. Running into the kitchen, he burst through the back door, hand splayed out to shield himself as half a dozen FBI agents opened fire. "One of the mages in the front of the house must be a sorcerer. They're all being controlled," the Archive shouted. Just as Ian was about to blast them, Rachel cried, "Then you can't kill them! It's not they're fault." She sounded as if she was almost in tears, the events of the night finally catching up to her. Ian snarled, "It's a little late to be worrying about the death of innocents now..." But as he called on his power, he decided to keep them alive. "More efficient doing it like this anyway," he grumbled. He called on an equal number of spirits, feeding them power. The ghosts attacked the agents and began the process of possessing them. They were all strong men and women, but the ghosts had an unfair advantage with Ian backing them. Rachel looked on in horror as the agents fell to the ground and curled into balls, shrieking madly. Ian tugged her after him and past the neighbors' houses, counting the rising number of victims as he went. While the agents' minds might have been commanded by another, the ones now controlling their bodies needed no such things. They turned their attention towards those assaulting the front of the house and walked jerkily towards their new targets. * * * * * The suave-looking wizard in charge of the team leaned on his staff and fired another bolt of lightning at the house. "Whew," he complained, smiling his perfect teeth. "That's a tough nut to crack." The olive-skinned beauty standing next to him grimaced at his uselessness. His efforts were only making draining the shield harder. How that pompous ass ever got into the FBI's Supernatural Investigation Division, dubbed 'the Inquisition' by most magic users, was beyond her. She redoubled her efforts, astonished that it had taken this long to get in. Just as the wards collapsed, they all heard gunfire behind the house. "Go check it out" her boss barked at her, not bothering to recognize her efforts in any way. She took off running, grumbling about incompetent superiors. The wizard frowned as he glimpsed Ashley Morgan run off, her azure blue hair bouncing along behind her. 'She changed the color again?' he groaned to himself and wondered why the young sorceress couldn't just be devoted to him like all the other sluts in the office. He sighed and turned to the agents around him. 'Sheep,' he muttered to himself. Aloud, he yelled, "Alright then, clear the house. Don't be shy with those trigger fingers if he gives you any trouble at all." Ashley groaned when she heard his words, darting between the fence struts leading to the backyard. 'We're supposed to take him alive at all costs, you moron,' she thought. 'Guess I'll just have to make sure I find him first.' Lost in her thoughts as she was, she failed to see the arm that lashed out of the darkness and caught her full in the chest, dropping her to the ground, winded. She stared up as the blank face of one of the agents was revealed, right before he lunged down at her, mouth gaping wide. Ashley twitched in terrified shock, her hand streaking up to push away the head of her attacker. His grip was incredibly strong and she knew she only had moments. Her arm was pinned underneath his body and she struggled to point her gun upwards. Finally getting some leverage, she fired three rounds straight into his heart. The body flinched at the shots, then continued its descent, weakening but determined to take her with it. Her eyes widened and she panicked. Gathering the energy inside of her, she slammed it into him with everything she had, forcing the body upwards about a foot before it fell atop her again. However, she now had her hand free. Ashley placed the gun against the side of his head and unloaded the rest of her clip. Shaking, she got to her feet, covered in gore. Using uncontrolled telekinesis had weakened her considerably. She just couldn't believe what had just happened. Ashley was jarred out of her revelations as a shot rang out and skinned her shoulder. She crouched and turned, looking to see another agent stumbling through the darkness, this one still holding a gun. She dived forward in a roll as another bullet soared over her. She came up and drove her shoulder into the possessed body, knocking it to the ground. She ran past the fallen agent and jumped the fence, running to the houses beyond, popping in another clip and casting her thoughts out to find her quarry. 'Necromancy...' She shuddered at the thought. They were way out of their league. There hadn't been a new necromancer that had managed to reach adulthood in over a century. She shivered, knowing she was trying to find him... alone. Ashley made a call to headquarters and requested backup, more to let them know of the development in case she died than of any realistic possibility that they could get here in time. If this guy had a flesh golem under his control or started raising armies, things could get messy. One of her division's foremost goals was to keep a lid on these kinds of things. There was nothing that woke people up more completely than seeing a zombie apocalypse. Back at the abandoned house, the wizard looked around the living room in disgust. 'All the power in the world, and he chooses to live in squalor, he thought. 'Pathetic...' He heard retching sounds coming from upstairs and one of the agents dashed out of a room and called from the top of the stairs, "Its bad sir. We think it's a necromancer." His eyebrows rose considerably at that. "Nonsense. All the necromancers in the world are accounted for. There hasn't been a new case since-" he trailed off as another agent came out carrying a dissected... something. 'Huh,' he thought. 'Well, that just makes it all the more interesting.' Glancing down, he picked up the bra that had caught his attention. 'It looks like our prey had some company over.' He turned to the agent that had freed the mage from the interrogation room and asked, "Does this boy have a girlfriend?" The agent glanced down at his notepad and declared, "It says in the police report that witnesses saw him kissing a girl before Subject A caused the illegal immolation." Giving a bored nod, he said, "Make the calls. Find out who she is and we'll see if the kid ran there. I'll look for some hairs or flakes of skin and come up with a tracking spell." 'Child's play,' he reflected distastefully. The subjects never got away. They always managed to get them in the end and this... necromancer would be no different. That was his last thought as the entire house exploded. Ian had stored hours worth of energy underneath his parents' old bed. It had been contained inside a strong seal, which was inside of a weaker one designed to deteriorate when the first had been breached. For five minutes after Ian had run past on his way to the kitchen, the energy had slowly been working itself towards combustion. The blast that rocked the neighborhood destroyed all the evidence he'd left behind, as well as the remaining retrieval squad. Ashley stumbled to a halt as she looked to her right and gaped at the roiling plume of green flames that lit the sky. 'Holy shit!' she exclaimed. Reaching for her radio she shouted, "Hey, are you-" She stopped when it became clear from the static that the paired device had been destroyed. 'Shit...' She was debating what she should do now when she heard running footsteps the next street over. * * * * * They had made it to the town, shops and restaurants dotted both sides of the street. Running full tilt, Ian barely had enough warning to crash into the wall and stop their progress as a flurry of gunfire shot low out of the alley they had been about to cross. "Son of a bitch!" Ian muttered, turning them around and running the other way. "It's like she knows exactly where we're going to go." Rachel followed breathlessly. She wanted more than anything to dig her heels in and demand to know what was going on, but she knew if she did they'd probably die. Still, she thought furiously, when they got out of this Ian was damn well going to explain himself. "She 'is' a sorceress," the Archive drawled. "It's her job to know what your next move is." Ian almost stopped in surprise. "No. Hell no! I made the amulet," he accused. "You said if I wore it those damn mind readers wouldn't be able to get in my head." A devilish laugh reached his ears from somewhere behind him. "No..." the Archive said in an exasperated voice. "I said they wouldn't be able to control your actions. She can still skim your thoughts. Uhh, heads up." Ian felt a tug on his wrist and looked back to see Rachel staring at him with hooded eyes. He dodged as her fist whipped out and she snarled at him. "Sleep spell, sleep spell!" the Archive shrilled. A wave of his hand had him lunging forward to catch her collapsing body. That did it... He was frustrated with himself for getting into this position and for dragging Rachel with him. He cursed the world for resigning him to a fate where he was hunted for no other reason than being born differently. He gritted his teeth as he gently hid his best friend around the corner of a building, determined to finish this cat and mouse game he apparently couldn't win. Ashley felt a jolt of fear as she realized she'd finally pushed him too far. Things were going to come to a head between them. Shaking herself, she willed the jitters to go away and began forming a spear of telekinetic energy. It was designed to pierce most physical shields that mages tended to erect. Ian appeared around the corner in front of Ashley and stalked towards her, glancing around for other threats. Almost peeved that the guy didn't perceive her as much of a danger, she fired two quick shots at his head. She'd expected the shots to ricochet off, but as she watched they seemed to seep into his shield and be dissolved. As she unloaded the rest of her clip, she brought her other hand down and watched as the spear she'd created came sailing down, hitting him like a meteor. His shield flared white and then... she saw her best chance at killing him disintegrate before it reached his body. A ball of despair formed in the pit of her stomach and she was almost taken by surprised as Ian shot a sphere of green flame at her. Ashley gasped and fell back on her training, hastily erecting a shield and backing up. She watched in dismay as the green fire contacted her shield and seemed to stick to it, eating the energy she'd formed like some kind of magic acid. She dodged another burst of flame and as she looked back the hairs on the back of her neck rose. Ghosts lined the street and were looking at her hungrily. She knew when to cut her losses and tried to run down an alley -only to be grabbed and plucked off her feet, dragged back by the ethereal horde. Their cold, undefined touch made her skin scrawl and she shuddered as she was tossed back into the street. Ashley barely managed to roll to her feet just as a green orb hit her square on. She'd been able to draw together something loosely resembling a shield, but it didn't stop her from getting blasted backwards through a store window. She felt a mixture of alarm, pain, and regret, and then nothing. Ian couldn't sense her and stepped forward to make sure she was dead, afraid that she might've been able to identify Rachel when she'd been rooting around in her head, when he heard the distinctive thumping of a helicopter in the distance. He hurried back to where he'd stashed Rachel's sleeping form, anticipating the compulsion he'd cast in the police station to muddle Ashley's memory of the event. Throwing her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, with his bag over the other, he made off towards her house, hiding his presence as he went. When they reached her house, it was dark, being early morning. He could barely make out a soft purple hue in the distance, a sign of the coming sunrise. As she slept on the first floor, he walked around the house until he reached her window. He popped the screen out and infused a small amount of his will into the lock, clicking it open. He'd just gotten her arrayed on the bed and moved to leave when her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. She looked up drearily at him and gave a sad smile. "You still owe me that story," she rasped. A grin spread across Ian's face as he realized she didn't hate him. He lowered his head and kissed her forehead. "Later. You're going to UW, right? I'll find you when the semester starts and if you still want anything to do with me, I'll give it to you straight." Ian sighed and looked out the window. "I've got to lead these guys away before they start door-to-door searches. I'll steal a car and unveil myself at the edge of town before taking off." Rachel hurt to see him go, but understood the necessity. "Ju-just tell me. I will see you again, right? You're not just blowing me off?" Ian gave her a serious look. "Rachel..." He stopped and treaded carefully. "This life... I don't know if-" She rolled her eyes at her goofy friend. "I'm not asking for a commitment, doofus. I know that despite," and she blushed scarlet, "what happened tonight, we're not going to be boyfriend/girlfriend, but I still want to be involved in your life. I don't want to just cut myself off like-" She stopped before she could say 'your parents.' They had never really talked about it and she had respected his wishes not to bring up the subject. An understanding smile crossed his face. "I promise," he murmured, holding her hand. "Oi, lover boy..." The Archive piped up. "I can give her the SparkNotes version. Give her the bracelet and go find us a ride." Ian looked up in surprise. He'd almost forgotten about the trinket he'd prepared. He'd meant to give it to her before she left for college. It would shield her mind, much like his amulet, and let him know if she was ever in trouble. Sometime later, as he looked out the front of the stolen Volvo and turned north, he stared into the rising sun and thought about what his life would be like. From inside the bag on the passenger seat, the Archive shouted, "Halle-fucking-lujah! Time to see if all that waiting and training will pay off... We're gonna change the world, my friend. And hopefully get you some sorely needed ass along the way..." * * * * * Sarah Flores stood at the entrance of the blackened area that used to be where Ian's house sat. She'd never seen anything like it, and she'd witnessed a number of house fires. These flames appeared to have eaten everything down to the bedrock. And witness reports said the fire was... green? She sighed. Something strange was going on. The FBI wasn't talking. They'd sent their medical examiners here to scrape up samples, but they had looked resigned. Sarah had gone against everything she believed in and done what Ian had said. She'd kept her head down and didn't make waves. Then, she'd woken up this morning and replayed the events of the night before and realized he'd known her first name --he'd even known her dream was to get into the FBI. She'd been furious, thinking someone had set her up. Then, of course, she'd arrived to find this. She sighed again, heavier this time. Sarah knew she wasn't going to get answers, but she also knew that she'd never be able to let this one go. 'Hell of a night,' she groused, turning away from the wreckage. She noticed the unmarked car no doubt belonging to the FBI watching the 'house' and shook her head. She was considerably less certain about her decision to join them after what she'd seen and heard regarding last night. They'd seemingly acted like a bunch of heartless thugs going around shooting up the town and various neighborhoods, all the while telling the local cops to mind their own business. Walking back to her car, she leaned on the door, wondering if she'd ever see the boy with emerald green eyes hidden behind shaggy black hair. * * * * * Ashley felt like shit. She had just gotten out of the ICU since nearly being eaten by Spiritfire apparently wasn't something taught in med school and no one could figure out why she wasn't responding to anything. Luckily, the backup she'd called had brought along an actual full-blooded Native American Shaman that was able to set her right. It seems they pulled out all the stops when it came to a necro-sighting. She was going over what she remembered from the night before. Some of it was painfully clear, like the ghostly hands crawling all over her body, and other things were a little hazy. The main thing she couldn't figure out was why she was still alive. Ashley knew that the blast that knocked her into the window 'should' have killed her. Her shield had been so thin it made toilet paper seem like a legitimate defense. He'd pulled back for some reason and she couldn't figure out why. They'd always been told necromancers were a sadistic bunch that tortured victims relentlessly before using them as puppets in death. Looking back on the night's events though, she couldn't see it. Hell, if he'd been any other type of mage and they'd managed to take him in, he'd probably have been released with their thanks for stopping the insane pyromancer. Even now, after they'd pissed him off and turned his life upside down, there was nothing to show that he'd retaliated. And they 'knew' he had the power to do it. From everything she'd gathered, he just wanted to be left alone. Now, more than a billion dollars would be going into the Seattle office to beef up their field strength and technological capabilities so it didn't happen again. While Ian may have confounded her, she wasn't his number one fan either. He'd tossed her through a fucking window... And she knew only a twist of fate had helped her avoid joining her boss in death, incompetent ass that he might have been. Still, morbid that it was, as one of the only survivors -minus the possessed agents that had woken up a few blocks away with no memory of how they got there- she was being given her own team. She supposed she should thank him. At the very least, she learned not to take everything the FBI higher-ups told her as sacrosanct. Closing her eyes and enjoying the extra fluffy pillow the nurse had given her, she had a feeling this wouldn't be the last she saw of Ian. And next time... she'd be ready. * * * * * Ian's first two weeks in the big city had not gone as planned. He hadn't wanted to go to college in the first place, preferring to live off of his gift (he 'had' started calling it a gift instead of a curse), so having to disappear wasn't really a setback. The big problem was that what he'd envisioned life to be like in his head clashed with reality quite spectacularly. He figured, 'Hey, I can talk to the dead. There should be a million and one ways to make money off of that.' He'd solve cold cases since they could go anywhere just about instantly so long as energy wasn't a problem; he'd ask spirits for the money they left behind in exchange for helping them cross over; he'd have a few ghosts haunt a financial guru for hot stock tips. One gets the picture... Path of the Necromancer Ch. 01 Unfortunately, while he'd had some limited success in having coherent conversations with spirits, actually collecting money was turning out to be a pain in the ass. For the effort he put in, he might as well go work some wage job --oh wait, he couldn't even do that since anything on the books would be checked by the government. What he needed was a fake I.D. and some sort of legitimate detective front where people would come to him to find things and pay upfront. At the very least, he could then go out into the missing person's section and make some dough. He knew simply contacting the family directly would peg him as a kidnapper right off the bat. At this point, with his savings running out, he was debating on whether or not he should fall into the morally gray area of hunting down drug dealers and stealing their cash. After admitting this somewhat jokingly to his companion, the Archive had piped up that it would be a great opportunity to create a patchwork man, more commonly called a flesh golem. Ian had been shying away from the suggestion for years, not really liking the idea of knitting bodies together to create a bodyguard --not that he would be doing the actual knitting he reminded himself with a brief prayer of thanks. Sadly, his fights with the wizard and then the subsequent one against the sorceress had made it painfully clear to him that he needed some form of protection. Although he'd won, he'd been slow with his reactions, something a more competent opponent would be sure to capitalize on. He also didn't have much of an arsenal besides blasting stuff and calling on spirits, which if they had a decent shield wasn't going to work. "Come on," the Archive urged, "how hard would it be to grab a few drugged-out drifters." He joked, "We could pull an all-nighter and then you could enter him into a few cage matches to make some money..." Ian chuckled at the image that conjured. "Embrace the Dark Side," the Archive said in his best James Earl Jones voice. Ian convulsed into fits of laughter. He might be broke, jobless, and hunted, but at least he could still laugh... * * * * * It was on a dark and stormy night—okay, well it was nighttime and it was raining hard when Ian's feet led him off the main street his rat motel was located on in one of downtown Seattle's lesser districts. He hadn't actually committed himself to the plan of trying to find trouble, he'd just had a 'why not' moment as his hunger seemed to want to burn a hole through his stomach. He didn't actually believe he'd find anything. Seattle was supposed to be in the top ten safest cities and all that. Even so, an invisible shield shimmered to life around him. Ian shook his head, clearing the water from his hair. At the very least it kept the rain out of his eyes. He'd been walking through side streets and back alleys for nearly an hour and hadn't found anything. He was about to give up when he turned a corner and was met with a scene he couldn't make up. Ian blinked as a dozen young --for lack of better word- hoodlums charged at a short, stumping-looking man in a black duster. He had a cheesy goatee that was ruined by the glasses he was wearing. The man cackled as the scruffy, lanky teens rushed him with knives and baseball bats. They only made it a couple of steps before they were suddenly shoved back wildly by an unseen force, sprawling them across the concrete to join another dozen of their group that didn't look like they were getting back up. "More, more!" he jeered. "I need you to give it your all. Otherwise you won't taste as good when I sacrifice you..." "Un-fucking-believable," Ian muttered, taking a seat and watching the show. "The economy is so bad that even 'this' was taken..." He saw the... well, he assumed it was a gang, pick themselves up and face the crazed mage again. A tough-looking girl with oily hair and a smudged face turned to a pudgy-faced guy wearing a thick jacket. "Damnit, Carlos," she shouted. "Shoot him!" Carlos looked scared. "Bu-but the old man said not to use it; that it would draw cops. Any more attention and they'd raid the neighborhood again. We can't afford another raid!" "I don't give a damn," she gritted out. "He killed Bobby --which means I'm the leader here, now shoot that fucker!" Ian shook his head. If this was a TV show and every one of the main characters was in their group, he'd still bet on the other guy. Carlos reached into his jacket and pulled out an ancient-looking revolver. Shots rang out and, somewhat predictably, pinged off of the mage's shield. The man only laughed harder and snapped his fingers. Suddenly, Carlos was ablaze, rolling on the ground uselessly. His screams broke the resolve of two of his cohorts and they bolted down the alleyway. Before Carlos died, the mage cast a spell and a blue light encompassed the twitching form. "You'll make a wonderful offering," the mage enthused, eyes alight with fanaticism. Ian's eyes narrowed when he saw the soul emerge from the body. He bolted to his feet when it was captured inside the blue light and sucked into a blackened orb the mage had pulled out and held in his hand. The runes scrawled across the orb's surface flared as the soul was deposited. "Gotta catch 'em all," the short man laughed maniacally. He glanced around. "So who's next?" Then his eyes fell on Ian who was walking into the light. "Ah, a newcomer. You can help replace those cowards that ran away." Ian's lip twitched and he ground his teeth as he felt an irrational hatred for this man. In Ian's mind, capturing a soul that was on the way to the afterlife or wherever they went was 'wrong' --as in kicking the goalie in hockey kind of wrong... Necromancers only used those that chose to remain behind as spirits. They couldn't even really be called souls, more manifestations of the energy souls left behind --echoes or shadows of what they had been. Capturing a soul to use for who-knows what kind of sick scheme he'd planned was worse than taking away someone's free will. Ian found he had less morals than most people (something of a requirement for someone who carved up dead people) and he'd always wondered where he'd draw the line. Apparently taking away a person's ability to die and keeping their essence locked in eternal torment qualified. As the fat fuck opened his mouth again, Ian stared at him and concentrated his will. The man stopped and looked down at himself with a puzzled expression on his face. His eyes widened in horror as he saw his skin decaying. Ian felt the man pour more energy into his barrier and he shook his head. "Wrong kind of shield, moron," Ian stated in a deadly calm voice. He opened his eyes wide in realization. "B-but that means yo- you're a..." The man whimpered as he saw layers of skin start to peel off his hands and he sunk to his knees, bones turning brittle. His hair grayed, his skin cracked and wrinkled, his fingernails yellowed and then blackened. Ian turned to the girl who seemed to be in charge of the group and said, "I'll let you do the honors." Ian had to give her credit. She didn't hesitate. Picking up a fallen baseball bat she took a running start and then swung at what was left of the man's head. A puff of gray ash and dust was all that remained after the bat drove through his skull. The crumbling headless corpse fell on its side stiffly. Everyone in the alley just stared at his remains, the wind blowing the sandy particles in different directions. Ian stepped forward abruptly. "No, I think not," he said, in an ominous voice. He caught the man's soul as it emerged and made it visible for all to see. "A better man wouldn't sink to your level. A better man would just let matters lie and let whoever you're on your way to see pass judgment. I'm in more of an eye for an eye mood though..." The group of strangers looked on incredulously as he bent and picked up the fallen orb and tapped it curiously with a finger. Inscribing a small amount of his power along the runes, he willed it open. Hundreds of souls flooded out for all to see, flickering into nothingness as they all sought to pass over. One of the last ones to leave swirled over the gathering briefly and Ian guessed that one had been Carlos. Glancing at the soul frozen in his metaphorical grasp, he pointed the orb at it and activated the runes. The soul was sucked inside and there was a flash of light before the device returned to its normal, unassuming state. He tossed the orb to the girl who was staring at it with a feral look of satisfaction. "I think over the side of a bridge would be a good location for that," Ian said. He cocked his head to the side as he began to hear sirens in the distance. "That's some shitty response time," he mumbled to himself. He bent low to retrieve the mage's wallet. 'Might as well get paid for this disastrous night,' he mused. He spotted something sticking out of the mageless duster and reached down to retrieve a black book. Opening it up, he recognized the unnatural symbols and knew he'd found the mage's guide, though the Archive spirit that resided within seemed to have left it. Pocketing the book, he reflected on what his next step would be. Looking down at the dusty corpse he'd wrought, he was debating whether or not it would work as a contribution for a flesh golem given its condition. His thoughts were interrupted as the girl approached him. "Thank you," she told him, wringing her hands. "For your help that is... Do you need a place to stay?" The rest of her 'crew' cast nervous glances at him. "I feel we need to do something to repay you." Ian took in her bedraggled appearance and almost barked out a laugh. He was in dire straits just for considering it. He managed to turn it into a slight grin at the last second and coughed out, "What are you offering?" She saw through his evasion and her eyes blazed. "We don't live on the street if that's what you're asking. We control this area and own some of the warehouses down by the waterfront. We even go to school and everything." She muttered something under her breath about people stereotyping them as a bunch of uneducated thugs. Ian's eyebrows rose. Warehouses could be useful. He couldn't exactly store a bunch of corpses in his motel room. Well he could, but the smell... "I might take you up on that offer. Do you have an address?" She nodded cautiously and rattled it off. He turned down to look at the remains of the mage. "So... uh, do you mind if I take this guy?" She raised an eyebrow, but shrugged her shoulders. Ian ignored the look she gave him that said, 'Oh, you're one of "those" guys.' He gestured at their fallen comrades weakly and winced as he said, "and what about them." The reply came from a nerdy-looking kid with freckles towards the back of the group. "You know how to get rid of bodies?" he questioned, casting a worried glance over his shoulder towards where the sirens were getting considerably louder. Ian was depressed to hear him ask that like it was some kind of skill he ought to write down on a résumé. Ian shot him a chilling smile and said, "Something like that..." The girl seemed to be debating whether or not it was a good idea. It would be bad if the cops were able to connect the dead bodies to their group. They'd be raided for sure. Finally, she nodded her head. As they all spread out to each grab hold of one of the bodies, Ian shook his head, "No need." He turned his hand palm upwards and the spirits that had flown into the bodies pulled them jerkily to their feet. The group of hoodlums jumped back and the youngest of the bunch screamed, "Holy crap!" After making an effort to hide most of the blood and tossing a couple jackets over the headless body, he got them moving in a single file line. The girl stared at the expressionless cadavers, mouth agape. When they reached a distance, she glanced down at the remaining body of Bobby, her brother. She fought the tears that threatened to sprout. 'Later,' she berated herself brokenly, 'hold on until they can't see me.' Shouting after him, she yelled, "Hey, you missed one!" Ian waved a hand absently behind him and called back, "That one's not dead..." Her eyes went wide and she screamed for her friends to grab her brother and get him to the 'Doc' fast. They quickly ran off with him slung between two of the bigger guys' shoulders as a troupe of patrol cars made perfunctory sweep by the deserted alley and then sped up again. Ian sighed as he turned back onto the main road, walking along beside his precession of the dead. There was really nothing for it. The Archive 'had' said ten corpses would be enough. And he did need a quiet, secluded place to work. He'd just have to move out of his motel room after he was done and screw the deposit. If there was anyone at the front desk he'd just put them to sleep. More than a little pissed, he reflected that he was still starving. He shook his head and thought, 'Hell of a night...' * * * * * Ian felt astonishment and... fear? ...emanating from the Archive. The spirit stammered out, "Th-that's not just any patchwork man. That's a fucking revenant! They used to call them ragmen back in the 16th Century. One of them managed to make it through the meat grinder at Rhodes and collapse the lines, forcing them into negations. It single-handedly did in one night what over 100,000 Turks failed to do in six months." "Ragmen, huh," Ian said, looking at the dark tatters that made up its clothes --sweatshirt, jeans, gloves; every inch of skin was swathed in the stuff. "How appropriate..." Its head was bowed and a long mismatched hood hung low, hiding the thing's face from view. Ian could feel its presence. It was bonded to him now. If he died, so would it. "There's no way in hell you should have been able to summon that," the Archive stated. There was still awe in his voice, but the fear had been replaced by fascination. "The last necromancer that managed to pull it off had needed to sacrifice a thousand spirits, and even then it didn't really serve him so much as do whatever it damn well pleased." "Oi, Scraps," the Archive called to the motionless figure. "Can-you-hear-me?" he emphasized slowly. Ian was sure he'd use the exact same tone to mock a deaf person if given the opportunity. He really had no scruples. The hooded head rose, revealing a mouth wrapped in more rags. "You have someone you'd like me to kill?" it asked in perfect English. "Where the hell did it get a British accent from?" Ian couldn't help but wonder aloud. He was surprised that the smell had actually gone away when the corpses had been melded together. The Archive shouted, "No! Well- At least not yet. I'm sure you'll get to kill later..." "Do you have any memories?" Ian asked curiously. The revenant bowed his head, as if considering the question. After awhile it finally said, "Not as you would define them. I think about something and the information is just there, ready for me to use, but I can't recall how it came to be." "That's... cool," the Archive said, "if not totally depressing." He sighed and began flipping pages unnecessarily. "Apparently you've got to name it to complete the ritual. Unless I fucked everything up by calling him Scraps. I don't know... you figure it out." Ian thought a moment. Just as he was about to call him something intimidating like Skullcrusher or Reaper or 'the Un-fuck-able,' the revenant tilted his head and said, "Scraps is sufficient." Ian dropped his head in his hand and groaned. He was going to get so much crap in public when people thought he was mocking a burn victim. Letting out a heavy sigh, Ian remembered the book he acquired and pulled it out. As he began flipping through pages, he muttered absently, "Well, at least I don't have to feed you." The Archive perked up at the sight of the book in his hand. "Ooh, a warlock's manual. If you used his essence when you were creating Scraps, that might explain some of the mystery." At Ian's interested look, he asked almost petulantly, "Hey, you aren't actually thinking about using that trash? What hell man, trading me in for a newer model already?" Ian turned to the Archive and pointed down at the black book. "This has pictures. How come you don't have pictures? I feel like I got gypped." The Archive huffed angrily. "Quitcher bitchin', it's not like you can read the damn thing anyway. You still need me to let you know what it says." He paused as he saw Ian staring intently at an image. The spirit moved to hover over Ian's shoulder and he exclaimed, "Hell no. Don't even think about it. You're still a virgin. A succubus would eat you alive." Seeing he wasn't getting through to his charge, the Archive resorted to yelling, "Seriously. They've got teeth down there. You don't want anything to do with them. She'll suck you dry and walk off without a care in the world to enjoy her newfound freedom." Ian, eyes gleaming and a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, looked up and asked, "How do I summon one?" The Archive groaned, but he was bound to answer. "Well, I don't know the exact process... Warlocks generally have to sacrifice a ton of souls to bring a demon into the world. They then go about entering into a type of contract with them. The demon almost always finds a way to kill the warlock and is then released from his or her contract, free to do whatever they want in the world of the living." "Warlocks are regarded as almost as bad as necromancers for this reason," the Archive grumbled. "Of course, they don't have a kill-on-sight order so the lucky bastards get the bad reputation without all the dangers that come with it." "Necromancers," he continued with a sigh, "are different... I don't actually know of an instance where a necromancer tried to summon a demon. Why use something that has free will when you've got 'that.' He gestured towards the revenant, who had picked up the necromancy book the Archive was bonded to and was flipping through its pages with a mildly interested expression." "You don't have to deal with all the rituals and sacrifices and B-Movie dialogue that warlocks are into," the Archive went on. "But as far as what you actually do when you bring them into the world... I don't have a clue. I know it probably involves anchoring their soul --yes, demons have souls too- in this world." "Why can't I just bond them to me like I did with Scraps?" Ian asked curiously. "I- uhh, hmm," the Archive pondered. "That might actually work. It might also cause your insides to implode. Why the hell are you willing to risk it again?" Ian fingered the embossed image representing a succubus in her demon form, black wings splayed wide, devilish forked tail curled up with the tip resting at the corner of her curved lips. She had a smile that chilled his soul and he could make out the hint of fangs showing from between her lips. "Just something about her," Ian mused. The Archive began cussing viciously about teenage hormones killing more magicians per year than all the other dangers in the world combined. From there it was a tedious process to collect all the things he'd need for a summoning. Scraps got some second and third glances in public, but otherwise things went off without a hitch. Finally, he was back inside the dingy box the motel clerk called a room, circle drawn out like it was depicted in the book with all the ingredients in their rightful places. He shouldn't actually need any of this stuff since necromancy was all about intent, but he figured he might as well start out doing things like he was supposed to. Ian sat cross-legged on the bed and concentrated on the image he'd formed of a succubus in his mind. It wasn't hell he directed his thoughts at. He didn't even know if there was such a place. But he did know there was a barrier that all souls crossed when their bodies died and it was there that he sent the image. Path of the Necromancer Ch. 01 Nothing happened for a long time. He could actually feel different presences regarding the image probingly, like fish examining bait on a hook before shying away from it. It seemed demons recognized that he wasn't a warlock and they didn't want anything to do with someone who could actually control their flow of souls. Finally, one presence moved into his awareness. She regarded his 'request' -because they were under no obligation to accept- with curiosity and a tentative interest. She slowly circled his offering, looking for traps. At last, she pounced on it and Ian felt a brief sense of vertigo. When he opened his eyes there was a devastating, stunning raven-haired beauty crouched naked in the middle of the circle he'd drawn. He hadn't bothered with a containment field since he wasn't planning on negotiating a contract. Ian began to rethink that decision as she lunged at him, her form blurring faster than his eyes could follow. Her rosy lips clashed with her blood red eyes as she hungrily latched her mouth to his. Talons shot out of her fingers and she shredded his clothes. She growled hellishly and dove down for more, her touch awakening blazing fires of lust wherever he came in contact with her skin. Feeling his senses being overwhelmed he rasped a weak, "help!" towards the revenant who was still sitting in the corner, reading his book. Turning another page with a bored expression, he said without looking up, "You're not in any severe danger." Ian made to argue then shuddered uncontrollably as the demoness gripped his cock with her hand. She cooed maddeningly into his ear and a wicked smile formed on her face as she took control and did what she did best. It was almost too much for him to take when he felt her lower her face to his raging hard-on. Her tongue wrapped around his shaft, seemingly twice as long as normal. Ian gasped at the treatment, head falling to the bed, his back arcing up. Seeing he was more than ready for her, she raised her head and straddled his waist, his cock bumping against the cheeks of her ass. She slid forwards and backwards, rubbing his hardened member between her soaked pussy lips; teasing him, never quite allowing him to enter her. Reaching a hand back to play with his cock and balls, her full chest heaving, displaying an impressive set of tits, she began uttering a demonic chant. The words --not meant for human ears- grated on his senses and almost seemed to make his ears bleed. "Now," she declared in English, a sinister smile gracing her features, "Your time is at an end." The Archive was shouting at him, "Do it now! Wake up for fuck's sake before she steals your-" She plunged herself down his length and a bright light flashed across the room and the succubus screamed. When Ian's vision finally cleared, he saw her looking down at him with an incredulous look. "Y-you're a virgin!" she sputtered, shocked. "Well he was 'till you rocked his world, sweet cheeks," the Archive drawled. Ian just stared up at her, speechless. She shook her head, dark tresses fluttering across her visage. "That shouldn't have happened." She looked around the room carefully and her eyes finally settled on the flesh golem. "You're a necromancer?" she cried out, astonished. She groaned and put her head into her hands. "I should have listened when they said your kind was bad news. I just didn't think it would turn out like this... Necromancers are anchored in the spirit world... Now that I've taken your virginity, I'm bonded to you for life." "Ohh," the Archive muttered in realization, "so that's how you do it. Way to go slick, looks like you lucked out." The succubus whipped her head around and her eyes flashed. "You mean you didn't even know?!" she demanded, unbelieving. "Hey, do I look like a fucking warlock's guide to you?" he shouted, offended at the presumption. "It's the guy you're currently raping that made the decision to throw caution to the wind and bring you here." She turned back and glared down at Ian, who looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Despite this turn of events, he'd never felt better in all his life. The Archive had been half-correct when he'd said succubae had teeth down there. In reality, they had numerous tiny spines inside their cunt that were currently milking his cock to orgasm without her even trying. Instead of feeling prickly, they seemed to pulse and drive him ever closer to all-consuming bliss. She raised an eyebrow imperiously as she pulled them back just before he was about to achieve his release. Ian groaned in distress. Her mouth morphed into a smile on its own accord. "Well, aren't you innocent?" she remarked. "I almost believe you really had no idea what was going to happen." She leaned down and whispered, "You see, because of our shared bond your lifespan is extended to that of mine so we can be together. There are many out there who would take advantage of a poor, unsuspecting demoness-" the Archive scoffed disbelievingly at this, "like me just so they might live longer." A talon slowly extended from one of her nails and she absently traced it along Ian's bared chest. "I suppose I should be thanking you. You're my meal ticket to a long, long life here." Then she pricked him and a drop of blood trailed down his body. "But being bonded to you means I'm yours alone. If I touch another man in lust my skin will burn --and not in a good way..." She raised her talon to her lips and her tongue darted out to lick the blood off. "And I reeeaally 'like' sex," she growled, straightening her back and looking down at Ian with a menacing smile. As she shifted form, he saw her wings rise from behind her, like a scorpion raising its tail. "So you're going to have to work 'hard' to keep me satisfied." She grinned down at him devilishly, fangs gleaming in the afternoon light, twin blackened curved horns poking out from beneath her hair. Her eyes glowed red as she lowered her head and he lost himself in their hypnotic gaze. She managed to sink even lower on his cock and when she raised her hips, the spines came back, scraping along his length. Ian moaned at the unquantifiable amount of pleasure she gave him with just the right amount of pain to make him feel alive. Sharp incisors captured his bottom lip and she bit down hungrily, nearly puncturing the skin. Her breasts were mashed against his skin and her perfect, hardened nipples teased him relentlessly as she dragged her glorious mounds back and forth across his broad chest. Slowly at first, she soon sped up her pace as she began rocking herself against him. Ian tried to keep up, but he knew she was in absolute control and she'd use him until she was satisfied no matter what he did. The succubus raised herself up onto her knees, keeping just the tip of him inside her pussy. Her tail wrapped around his shaft and began pumping him vigorously, her spines seeming to attack the sensitive underside of his head. Ian moaned and his breathing picked up as he found his release. The raven-haired she-devil plunged all the way down as he exploded, the friction of her spines driving him to blissful heaven and beyond. Ian felt like he was at the edge of a precipice, about to be overwhelmed. She smirked down at him and did something that seemed to amplify his pleasure and he felt himself tumble over. Senses overwhelmed, darkness closed in around him. He awoke to the realization that she was still fucking him and that he'd only been out for a few moments. Her spines were apparently able to keep his prick from softening and she was riding him hard and fast. Sneaking a look at his shocked expression, she moaned as his cock hit her in just the right spot. "You --oh, that's it... di- didn't think you were --fuck yes! ...finished, did you?" She threw him a wicked grin and he realized his ordeal was just beginning. She grabbed his hands and placed them on her juicy ass. Her boobs bounced above him, making his mouth water with a need to have those delicious pink nipples between his lips. Ian looked up at her and saw this beautiful and deadly, sexy and terrifying creature controlling his every desire. She picked up the tempo, taking their fucking to the next level, and Ian moaned in response. She smiled as she nudged him slightly here and there, directing his movements; showing him what she liked. She gave a raspy chuckle. "The sun is just going down, youngling. I think by the time it rises I might have you trained enough to be a satisfactory lover..." She scratched his chest with her elongated talons. "But it will take much, much longer before you'll be sufficient for my purposes." Then she lowered her head again and Ian was once more lost beneath waves of pleasure. Path of the Necromancer Ch. 02 Ian woke at the crack of noon with his muscles feeling tight, slightly burning as if he'd just gotten back from an intense workout. 'Though...' His eyes popped open in surprise when he realized his body wasn't sore. In fact, he felt refreshed --like he'd just slept ten hours instead of less than half that. He noticed his newest companion was awake next to him on the bed, staring his way through hooded eyes. He turned to her with an expression of wonderment. She laughed silkily, "It wouldn't do to tire my lover out only to have to wait for him to recover." So saying, she moved her hand underneath the covers and began jerking him to hardness. He moaned appreciatively and then sniffed as a heavenly smell caught his attention. He turned to the table where the Archive was flipping through a newspaper and the revenant was back to reading his book. Atop the table was a box of donuts and two cups of coffee. "I sent the golem out to get breakfast," she explained. "Yeah," the Archive confirmed, sounding impressed. "Don't ask me how he managed it, though. He sure as hell didn't have any money with him..." Scraps grunted without looking up and Ian had the notion that his intimidating appearance might have had something to do with it. He felt bad for the teen behind the counter that'd had to face him when he'd 'asked' for food. The succubus directed his thoughts back to her needs as she mounted his hardness and he rested his hands on her creamy hips. "He- ...ey," he said, getting her attention as he began panting, struggling to form coherent thoughts with the heat engulfing his cock. "Just wha- what's your name anyway?" She began moving her hips in need, drinking him in eagerly; sucking him dry. She moaned, "Ember." "Of course it is," Ian chuckled. Ember looked down at the goofy smile plastered on his face and tweaked her hips in response, drawing an answering moan from her lover. "Hush. It's a beautiful name." Ian agreed and said, "It matches your eyes." She rolled those same eyes and declared, "The cheese that oozed off that line is going to give me heartburn." After Ember was done using him to scratch her itch, they both sat down at the table. She flipped through channels on the basic cable TV, fascinated by just about everything she found. Ian saw her dig into the box and start munching away with a donut in each hand. "You eat?" he exclaimed. "Like... stuff besides sexual energy?" Her eyes narrowed. "Obviously," she replied, sounding offended. "Just what the hell do you think I am?" The Archive gave a snort, but instead of answering simply observed, "There goes your rent money." She looked around the room at that, as if noticing its dilapidated state for the first time. "You sure don't need much," she commented dryly, brushing off the crumbs that had deigned to fall atop her naked breasts. Ian, currently trying to figure out ways to get money, grumbled something about the government blowing up his house. The Archive interjected, "Technically, you blew up the house... And don't blame them, you were going to take off after the summer anyway. Your plan just sucked ass." Ember perked up. "I've never heard of a necromancer that didn't belong to one of the main bloodlines living to be your age. You must have been incredibly cautious when you awakened. What's this about a plan?" The Archive guffawed and Ian heard, "Go on, go on. Tell her one of your countless get-rich-quick schemes." He muttered darkly before sighing heavily. Finally, not seeing a reason to hold back and feeling --hoping- that maybe another perspective could provide some insight, he told her what he'd had in mind. She inhaled another donut and said, waving a hand airily, "So let me get this straight... You want to look through missing person's ads, because with your power you can tell immediately if the individual is alive or dead -and if they're dead and their spirit remains behind, you can even find out where the body is and what happened to them? ...I knew you guys were morbid, but fucking hell. How depressing can you get? You're just going to call people all day and say, 'hey, by the way, your loved one is dead. Search here. Oh, and can you send a check?'" Put that way, Ian was definitely not looking forward to talking with the family of the deceased. Still... "Well, ideally they'd be alive," he pointed out, desperately trying to keep his plan afloat while she was poking holes in his logic. She took a sip of coffee and a grin slowly formed that lit up her whole face. "God! You guys have it good here." Ian sputtered, "Y-you can say God?" Ember glared at him. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" she huffed. The Archive chortled, "I blame the whole paranormal romance and urban fantasy movements that have started up. It fools people into thinking they know shit about the real world." She sighed and decided to ignore his last question. "Yes, you have the advantage of having more 'searchers' at your disposal than a normal person. And yes, time and distance is perceived differently in the spirit world, but you'd still have no clue where to send them. Face it, the only people you're going to find with any chance of success are dead ones," she took another sip and gave a satisfied sigh. "Well, how would 'you' do it then?" Ian asked exasperated. Ember shot him an 'are you really this stupid' look and said with extreme patience, "Well, if I wasn't bound to you, I wouldn't 'need' to earn money. I'd just use my 'assets' to get whatever I wanted." With that, she stood and walked to the bathroom, declaring, "I'm taking a shower." Ian, his plan in utter ruins, bowed his head in defeat. "Back to square one, I guess," he muttered. The revenant gave another grunt. A minute later, the succubus stormed out of the bathroom and grabbed Ian, forcibly dragging him back in with her. "Pay attention," she growled. The door slammed shut behind them. The Archive turned to Scraps and lamented, "He's hopeless..." Scraps just gave an answering rumble, having turned his attention to watching the news. Ember dragged Ian into the shower, the water having warmed to a level satisfactory to her. He yelped as the scalding water hit him and she sighed insufferably, turning the knob a fraction to the right. "Lesson number two," she declared, pinning him to the wall. "Your ancillary duties include, but are not limited to, making sure every inch of me is scrubbed clean regularly." Ian frowned, starting to think this whole demon business was more trouble than it was worth. That is, of course, before he got a look at her naked body in all its glory, water cascading off her skin and dripping down her curves. "Hey," she said, waving a bar of soap in front of his enraptured face, "you don't expect 'me' to soap up my own tits, do you?" He swallowed dryly and shook his head dumbly. A smile formed on her face as Ian's head fell forward to be surrounded by her glorious, well-endowed boobs. He really was innocent, she thought to herself. She pulled back and presented her nipples in front of his mouth and moaned as his teeth nipped her buds. She took the minty bar and soaped up his crotch. Then she turned around and presented him with her ass, wiggling it tantalizingly. He groaned at the sight and was powerless against such a tempting target to do anything but line himself up and thrust into her. They both moaned as she encased his hard cock and he decided to take the initiative. Grabbing the bar of soap from her, he began massaging her tits, alternating between tweaking her nipples and squeezing her firm orbs. Her back arched and she gripped the sides of the shower. "That's it, baby," she rasped. Just then, both of them perked up as something hit the wards he'd set up around the motel room. The Archive shouted, "Ian!" They both tumbled out of the shower, Ian cursing, "Not again..." They stumbled out of the room as the temporary wards were shredded --the magicians behind the door not even attempting to overpower them this time, but instead choosing to drain what little energy they were imbued with. Five mages rushed into the room and were held up short as the two girls were shocked to see Ian naked and the three guys were fixated on a nude Ember. He was surprised at just how young they looked. It was hard to tell the age of a magic user, but he sensed they couldn't have been more than a few years older than him. The door shut behind them and there was a moment of stunned silence as all they did was look incredulous. Then the revenant exploded into action and all five hit the walls in different directions and at awkward angles. Two were knocked unconscious and the rest were dazed. One redheaded male with freckles and glasses struggled to his feet and tried to erect a shield around his companions. Scraps swiped at it disdainfully, shattering the construct, and kicked the young man into the wall, causing cracks to form along the plaster and leaving an indentation as he slumped to the floor. By that time, the other two had recovered and a man who was obviously a wizard shot a jet of fire into the chest of the revenant. With all those dry-looking shreds of cloth, Ian half expected him to go up like a tinderbox. Unfortunately for the pyro, the dark tatters actually seemed to eat light itself and flames proved to be no different. Scraps walked through the oncoming blaze that died almost before it touched him and punted the hapless mage through the front door and into the hallway beyond. A girl Ian assumed was a witch by the way she mumbled her final incantations suddenly disappeared. She'd stayed down while the others kept Scraps busy and had instead concentrated on forming one of the most complex spells she knew. If she had been expecting them to be impressed, though, she was to be disappointed. "Aww," Ian complained. "How come she gets invisibility?" he asked the Archive. "I know," the spirit agreed wholeheartedly. "Awesome, right? Just think of how many girls' locker rooms you could scope out with that." The revenant stood still and cocked his head to the side. In a refined, yet unbearably bored voice, he commented, "I see my surroundings as they are in the spirit world. You show up perfectly well to me." With that, he backhanded the invisible girl that was trying to tiptoe out of the --now open- doorway. The girl hit a wall and crumpled. Lily felt like she'd just been hit by a truck. She'd been trying to escape to warn her superiors, but now she knew they were all going to die and no one was going to know why. If Roderick was still conscious, he could have mentally let Agent Morgan know what happened. She groaned, curling into ball, guessing she had at least two broken ribs. 'How could we have been so stupid?' she cursed. 'Why did we listen to that impulsive hothead Bryce when he boasted they didn't need any backup? Oh, God...' She shuddered at all the horrible stories the department told them about necromancers. Would he feed them to that monster? Would he kill them slowly and then resurrect them as his thralls? She whimpered as a foot nudged her. She looked up in fear to see the nude raven-haired beauty with red eyes looking down at her with a calculating expression. "Meh..." she heard. "You look to be about the right size. Strip." Lily's widened in disbelief. "You heard me rookie. My all-powerful summoner neglected to find clothes for me. You volunteered when you came in uninvited." After a few moments of stunned inactivity, Lily sat up and with shaky hands unzipped her FBI windbreaker and began to disrobe. Ian sat at the table and rubbed his face with his hands. "Scared the shit out of me," he muttered. "Tell me about it," the Archive commented. "When did they start letting these little squirts join the Inquisition?" "A better question is how they found us," Ian said as he belatedly got up to find some clothes. "Well, let's be realistic here," the Archive retorted. "Your wards leave something to be desired and your mind magic downright sucks. I wouldn't be surprised if they were able to bypass the compulsions you set up. Though... how they knew to come here and why they chose now are beyond me." Scraps spoke up, "I read in your book that magicians are able to sense each other and their minions as well as supernatural creatures. Could they have felt me?" The guilty expression on Lily's face was all they needed to confirm this. Ian shook his head. "I warded the place when I started the summoning, though. You shouldn't have..." he paused. "Ah, ousted by those infernal donuts," the Archive chuckled. "That's what you get for not placing a ward on him to hide his presence after you summoned him. They found him as he was making the coffee run and he led them straight back to us. We're lucky these idiots wanted the glory for themselves." "I was a bit preoccupied," Ian mumbled defensively with a peek at Ember. The succubus rolled her eyes although she was secretly happy to know she held her lover's attention so completely. She bent down and picked up the girl's boots and sighed appreciatively at the find. "Definitely not standard issue," she enthused. "Thanks!" Lily hugged her arms to her naked chest and turned her head away. Both Ian and Ember stared at the exposed girl hungrily. The demoness frowned when she heard the faint sound of sirens in the distance. Apparently slamming a few bodies into walls and knocking a door off its hinges warranted a call to the cops --even in this dump. "Could we take her with us?" she begged Ian hopefully. "What is she, a to-go meal?" the Archive asked nonplussed, "...and what about the whole 'one lover' thing?" "One 'male' lover," Ember corrected. "We succubae invented lesbianism. When all Joshua wanted to do was live, eat, and breathe war, Lilith had to find some way to amuse herself." The Archive sputtered nonsensically as his view of history shifted considerably. Ian sighed longingly at the pretty brunette (now that he knew Ember wouldn't kill him for doing so), but shook his head. He dropped the two books into his duffel and threw it over his shoulder. "Time to go," he announced. Scraps led the way out of the apartment, stepping over the unconscious wizard in the hallway. Lily huddled on the floor staring after them, dazed and confused. * * * * * The four walked --well, three walked and one was carried- down the street towards Seattle's Industrial District where the address the girl in the alleyway had given him was located. They'd made a stop at an antique shop in the hopes of picking up some type of metal trinket --preferably silver- for Scraps that Ian could inscribe a rune onto and imbue with power. Ember could already hide herself quite proficiently. He'd been concentrating on dulling the revenant's presence, but having a physical anchor was a stronger, more permanent solution. Having it made of silver just meant it was a better conductor for the enchantment and that it would last longer. He'd been against the idea at first. He knew finding a 'medallion-esque' anything then giving it to someone wearing a long hoodie and not having it scream 'bling' was going to be impossible. They at last found a cheap yin and yang knockoff attached to a silver chain that he thought was feasible. The man at the counter wanted sixty bucks for it though, which Ian didn't have. After trying to put a compulsion on him three times and failing three times, a frustrated Ian simply zapped him with a sleep spell and walked out, muttering to his snickering companions, "Not a word." Ian still didn't know exactly what he was going to do, and concentrating on the problem was next to impossible while he could still remember the feel of Ember's soapy tits. It scared him that he was almost as horny as a sex demon... Bored, the sex demon in question reached into the open bag and plucked out the book that the Archive was bound to and began flicking through the pages as they walked down the side of the street. "Humph," she complained, "I can't read it." "Don't feel bad, sweet cheeks," the Archive told her. "Your deathliness over there can't either. It requires someone of my special talents to navigate the complexities of a necromancer's tome." If he had manifested himself, Ian was sure they would have seen him preening. Ember giggled, "And just what do I call you, Mr. Talented?" She turned her head to Ian for the answer. He shrugged his shoulders and simply said offhandedly, "The Archive is what he's always gone by." She frowned. "That's most assuredly not a name." She looked at the book, although his spirit was currently floating along beside them, and smiled slyly. "Wouldn't you rather have a strong --sexy- name for people to call you by?" she asked in a raspy voice choked with lust. You could almost hear the Archive gulp as he stuttered, "Well, you know... Like, whatever works, I guess..." Ember brought her finger to her lips and hummed. She went through a series of rapid fire names, all of which were rejected. She bumped Ian's shoulder and mouthed 'come on.' He sighed and looked around. As he saw a sign, a small smile formed on his lips. "We could call him Izze," he suggested. "What's that?" she asked. Before he could answer, the Archive exploded, "I swear to fucking God, if you name me after a soft drink I'll take out my ethereal dick and skullfuck you, master of the dead or not!" They both laughed as their ghostly companion cussed them out loud enough for those passing by to throw them odd looks. "No, no," Ian managed to get out. "In all seriousness, we'll call you... Slimer." "From Ghostbusters," Ember laughed. "I got that one. Ooh, how about Twilight? Oh, come on, Archie. Don't pout." "You can't call me Archie, either!" the Archive spat venomously. Amidst the expletives and laughter, Scraps suggested in a quiet voice, "What about Grim?" The other three paused and looked at him. "Well, technically he 'is' a grimoire," he explained with a shrug. "Kind of goes with the whole depressing theme you guys have going here, too..." Ember commented dryly. "That is... badass!" Grim shouted, startling a poor woman pushing a baby stroller. "Men fear his name. Women line the streets when he passes by. Children..." Ian groaned and covered his face. "If you start quoting Dos Equis commercials, I'm tossing you in the recycling bin." * * * * * Walking through an open chain-link fence as the sun began to set in the distance, they arrived at a nondescript warehouse. "Ho, ho," Grim piped up. "There's a watcher on the rooftop behind us. This might not be the crackpot operation I first imagined." "Sniper?" Ember asked curiously, not showing an ounce of concern over the revelation. The spirit gave a derisive snort. "Hell no... Just some kid with binoculars and a walkie-talkie. Banging on the rusted door at the base of the warehouse wall, an actual slit opened at the top and a pair of eyes peered out at them. "Not interested," a voice said gruffly and the opening closed shut again. Ian stared at the door incredulously. Well, whatever he had expected, it hadn't been that. "Never mind..." Grim sighed and began ranting about the poor state of professionalism shown in criminal organizations these days. Not really in the mood to argue with some grunt through a steel door, Ian debated whether he should possess the poor sap and have him let them in or just have Scraps take it off its hinges. Suddenly, there was a commotion behind the door and they all heard raised voices and a resounding slap upside someone's head. The door ground open and the girl he'd met the night before stood there blushing. She'd cleaned up nicely, Ian thought. Long black curls framed a pretty face which framed even prettier hazel eyes. Her bronze skin clashed with the pink Babydoll t-shirt that stretched over her lovely C-cup breasts. "Sorry about tha-" she stopped, realizing he'd brought company. Path of the Necromancer Ch. 02 She eyed Ember with a look he couldn't decipher and wordlessly led them inside. "I'm glad you decided to come. There are some people that would like to meet you." Her voice was scratchy and her eyes were red and puffy like she'd been crying. She turned abruptly, leading them into an open area. Looking around, Ian saw sectioned off partitions lining the vicinity. There seemed to be an abundance of cubical-style 'rooms' that had a variety of different purposes. Ember frowned. She didn't like to be quiet when she fucked and this environment didn't seem to be conducive to her needs. She shrugged. Well, it wasn't as if 'she' cared if anyone heard. Ian would just have to bear it in the mornings. The girl led them to a section that was obviously set up as a ward. An ashen-faced young man about Ian's age with a strong resemblance to the girl lay atop a sickbed as some of the teens he recognized from the night before last crowded around. A middle-aged man in a lab coat Ian guessed was 'Doc' met them at the entranceway and whispered in a sorrowful voice, "His condition's worsening. He doesn't have much time." Sighing, he rested a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder and said, "I can only do so much with modern medicine. The old man is scouring the city for healing mages, but the last registered druid moved away ages ago and the Church doesn't give divine assistance to just anybody. There are a few other registered healers in Seattle, but most have outrageous fees we simply can't afford." "There is one," he began. "A new witch that moved here recently that's with the Inquisition... The old man went to their field office to ask for help this morning since it was their job to prevent a warlock's harvesting in the first place. There hasn't been any word back so far. Don't give up hope, though. Her potions may yet arrive in time to save him." The girl took the news like a fighter, but Ian could see her resolve crumbling at each new revelation. Finally, she took a deep breath and staved off her tears. Without a word, she led them to her brother's bedside. The ragged-looking youth glanced up and locked his eyes with Ian's. "Ah," he rasped, "so the savior ap-" *cough* "appears." Ian remained silent as they approached. "Allow me to introduce myself," her brother continued in lightly accented English. "I am Bobby Romero. These guys elected me as Captain of the Night Watch, the group you see around you." At this point, he erupted into a coughing fit and his sister moved to his side worriedly. Reaching out a hand to clasp her shoulder, he continued, "And this... is Valentina, who I believe you've already met." The girl blushed and looked away, muttering, "Just Val..." She hated her full name. Her brother always teased her with it and said it made her sound like a princess. Tears sprung from her eyes as she thought about her brother's condition and she turned her head even further to hide her face from view. "If I'm to believe what I've been told," Bobby told Ian, "I have you to thank for her wellbeing. For that, I'm eternally grateful and she was absolutely right to offer you a place to stay. You can rest here for as long as you'd like and it will still be poor payment for what you've done." Ian inclined his head, only half following the conversation. He turned to consult Grim, but it was Ember who spoke up, "Definitely Hellfire. I can smell it, eating away at him." Ian wasn't surprised to see all the young males --and some of the females- in the room eying her appreciatively. Her words only gave them a legitimate reason to do so. "Nasty stuff," Grim confirmed. "Not as bad as Spirtfire, of course. This shit only harms your physical body, but once your spirit deteriorates past a certain point, there's no putting it back together." About half the people in the room jumped at the disembodied voice. Ian ignored the mixed reactions his companions were getting and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was seeing in the spirit world and locked onto the portions of Bobby that were dying or already dead. He must have gotten hit by a blast of Hellfire from the warlock in the alleyway before he'd gone down. There were blackened bits all along his body that indicated the areas the warlock's fire had burned. Ember had said it was 'eating away at him' and she'd been correct. It fed off of what it consumed, powering itself in lieu of energy. It would eventually die out as there was no longer any intent driving it, but not before Bobby was too far gone to recover. Ian collected his will and remembered his lessons. Magic worked both ways. Just as other magicians could drain his wards when they didn't have the power to go through them, he could stop and even reverse decay. It wasn't nearly as easy as causing it... but then, Ian could channel a shit-ton of power to get it done, so it was all relative. First, he shielded Bobby against the remaining Hellfire and willed it away. Then he began to work. Bobby stiffened and everyone watched as he clenched bunches of his blanket and gritted his teeth. "What's wrong," Val asked, concerned. "Bobby? Talk to me!" Ian inwardly winced as he continued the process. His way of 'healing' wasn't nearly as gentle as those of other mages. You weren't getting any pain killers when nerve endings suddenly started broadcasting again. The bare essentials to keep going were all he could provide. Curing a headache? That he couldn't do. Making sure a soul could survive in its body... that was a different story. "Slowly," Grim warned, still acting as his mentor. "If you reverse it too fast in his midsection it'll cause a reaction." Everyone looked at Ian and then back at Bobby as the realization that he was trying to heal him dawned on each one at different moments. Finally, Ian had drawn out all the blackness he could find and closed his spirit vision. Blinking his eyes as he reoriented himself, he was completely unprepared when Val squealed in happiness and threw her arms around him, kissing his cheek. She quickly stepped back, blushing, as both of them stared at each other with wide eyes. Then she shook herself and dashed to her brother, hugging him tightly. He was looking much livelier, albeit in much more pain as his dulled senses suddenly reawakened with a vengeance. Ian blew out a long breath at the exertion. He told Bobby, who was currently staring at him in astonishment, "I can't regenerate skin and you've still got a bunch of it missing. That means you'll have to watch for infection, which will probably happen anyway. But if it worsens, just come find me again. You'll also feel a lot of pain and will almost certainly scar unless you guys can get a competent healer." Ian shrugged in a 'nothing-I-can-do-about-that' manner. "Sorry." Bobby shook his head, tears trailing down his face at the second chance he'd been given, unable to express words. Val looked up from the bedside, "H- how?" she asked wonderingly. The corner of Ian's mouth quirked into a teasing grin. "You saw me essentially decompose a living human being," he pointed out with a light chuckle. "It stands to reason I could make a little rot go away..." His eyes lit up and he snapped his fingers at his companions. "Youth serum!" he declared, almost comically. "Or youth... something. I can make money by reversing the decay in old people, making them younger." Ember rolled her eyes and the Archive groaned. Finally, trying to explain the error of his thinking to the excited entrepreneur, Grim huffed, "That stuff is strictly regulated. Besides, you'd fuck it up if you tried to do something that subtle while looking through the spirit world." Ian frowned, feeling like they were making a habit of shooting down his ideas. Determined, he said, "Well, what the hell do I care about their regulations? They want to kill me." Turning away, he mumbled petulantly, "And I would 'not,'" His bonded reached out a soothing hand and cupped his face. "There are other classes of mages that can do the process better and easier," Ember told him. "And I can assure you, if someone is rich enough to afford it, they already know about it." She shot him a soft smile, proud of him despite herself. She'd never heard of a necromancer using his powers to heal. A hand rested on his shoulder and Ian turned to find the Doc regarding him with fascination. "I'll make sure his wounds stay clean," he assured him, voice filled with awe. "Th- that was necromancy, wasn't it? So I guess they weren't telling tales then." "Indeed not," a voice from the doorway declared. Turning, Ian saw an elderly man with piercing gray eyes. He guessed this was the 'old man.' Walking forward with a stride that belayed his age, the man thrust out a hand which Ian grasped, noting the steel in the grip. "Name's Forrester... Welcome to our little slice of Hell." Before Ian could answer, the Doc started up again. "So that's how you guys do it. I'd always wondered why a necro's minions don't just waste away. And the zombies! That's not just some magical voodoo that makes their limbs move. You're actually freezing the decay and reviving the dead organs so the spirit can move the body. Simply amazing!" Ian's lip twitched as he tried not to laugh. Necromancy doesn't usually get many fans. He wondered if the man had studied to be a mortician or something before being roped into this gig. The old man gave a snort at the Doc's exuberance. "There will be time for that later. Now, would you mind if we take a walk..." Forrester asked, waiting for him to fill in the gap. "Ian," he replied and pointed in turn. "And that's Ember, Scraps, and Grim is my Archive." Forrester studied Ember with narrowed eyes. "Vampire?" he asked gruffly. In response, a forked tail appeared behind Ember and fluttered meaningfully as she shifted forms slightly. "Ah," Forrester nodded in recognition, shooting an impressed glance Ian's way. "Well come on then." With that, he turned and walked down a hallway. As he gave them the fifty-cent tour of the place, he glanced over and said, "You look fairly normal for one of your kind. I've only seen one other briefly, but he was pretty damn cagey." Ian gave the man a sardonic grin and shrugged. 'He'd' never met a necromancer who'd been insane. Until he saw the standard, the rest of the magic community was crazy and presumptuous as far as he was concerned. "Isn't it hard to keep the spirits out?" Forrester pushed, sounding to Ian like he was probing to see if he was going to flip out at any moment. Chuckling, Ian explained, checking off his fingers, "I ward myself against them so it doesn't get too overwhelming. I don't keep my spirit vision open all the time so I don't start seeing things. I understand that anything the dead say means absolutely nothing since they interpret things differently than we do." He shrugged. "Seems like some pretty basic precautions to me. I don't get why everyone thinks the constant pressure is going to make me crack," Ian commented, annoyed. "If I had to guess, early on necromancers don't recognize spirits as a resource. They open themselves up completely, wanting to take in more power, and end up getting possessed. If you create a bubble around yourself and only let in those that you acknowledge, I don't see what the big deal is." Grim remained silent. Ian never believed him when he insisted that among necromancers he was unique. There was something different about him... What he could do effortlessly took other's years to accomplish. Some things... He glanced at Scraps and if he could've shuddered, he would've. No, Grim thought. Ian was special. He didn't know how, but one day the shit was going to hit the fan and whatever was revealed would be big. Forrester grunted disinterestedly and filed Ian's words away with all the other useless shit mages tended to spout. "As you can see," he said, moving on, "we don't much care about whatever edicts the magical authorities living in their crystal palaces deign to give us. They haven't lifted one finger to help my people, so I don't see why I should give a damn. So long as you don't bring any trouble down on us, it doesn't matter what kind of mage you happen to be." As an afterthought, he turned to Scraps and muttered, "Or whatever the hell it is you are..." "How... uh, is it that you know about..." Ian gestured helpessly. Forrester gave a snort and explained in a voice that said he obviously found the rules absurd, "Deal is, if you're exposed to a supernatural event, you're in. You just can't tell anyone else about it, or your governing body of magic --that's the Inquisition over here- will come and take you away and punish you according to the damage you've caused. Unless you're rich, of course... then you just get slapped with a fine." "You'll find that much of the underworld and the upper echelons of the wealthy and powerful know what's going on." He sighed. "As usual, it's your average working Joe that's left in the dark," he stated with a grimace. "We each have our own stories about how we ended up here, but suffice it to say we all see the ugliness of the world and are just trying to make it to the next day." "Now," Forrester said, stopping at the end of the hallway. "I heard back there that you might be looking to make some money. We do a number of... unconventional jobs." When Ian didn't say anything, he sighed, as if he'd been half-expecting that in itself would be enough to scare him off. "I'll level with you. We're not the only gang in Seattle that knows about what really lurks in the darkness. There's at least one in each of the main districts." "We are, however," he continued, "the only one without a single mage in our ranks. The other groups have been slowly weakening our hold on the Industrial District and pushing us back to the waterfront. A few more good pushes and we won't be able to recover our territory." He laughed cynically and stared off into the distance. "I know that's not what you wanted to hear, but we really are balanced on a knife's edge. We have backers funding our operations, mostly from the Central Business District, but they handle everybody's financials and don't care who's in charge so long as somebody takes the jobs." Ian tried to process what the old man was telling him. It was like he'd stepped into an alternate reality inside another alternate reality. 'Who segregates an entire fucking city?' he thought incredulously. He had a sneaking suspicion that the various communities had set up shop first and that Seattle's districts had grown around them. Finally, he shrugged helplessly. "I'd like to help, but if anyone found out I was a necromancer and I was 'here,' you've no idea the shit storm that would descend." He glanced at his companions. "I guess I might be able to pull off looking like a warlock with Ember, and I doubt many people would recognize Scraps for what he is now that he's warded, but eventually someone's going to make the connection. I have enchantments to muddle my appearance when an image of me is captured digitally so the FBI can't trace me, but it's only a matter of time before they find me. This was always just a temporary fix to hold me over until I found something to do." Forrester rubbed his chin in thought. "I had wondered about you staying here with the punishment for harboring a necromancer being death and all..." he groused. "How 'bout this: we have friends in Central that can set you up someplace in an apartment. They'll make it so your identity doesn't set off any flags. You'll never have any obvious relations with this place and we'll contact you remotely when we have a job." He paused, then shrugged. "It would also be great if you could help with our border disputes as well. Pretend to be a warlock or not, I don't care. If they manage to take our territory, we're as good as dead anyway..." Ian stared at him for a long moment, not believing what he was hearing. "You can actually do that?" he asked, shocked. Forrester gave him a measuring glance. "You really have been removed, haven't you? Magicians of your caliber are huge assets and live like kings in this day and age. Organizations in the magical community of every variety consider them legitimate investments. If you had been anything but a necromancer, there would have been trains of people lining up outside your door the minute you awakened, trying to buy your allegiance and offering you all kinds of aid in the hopes that you'd someday return the favor." Ian tried to process this along with everything else he'd learned. He'd been forced to keep as low a profile as possible for as long as he could remember. He tried unsuccessfully to associate the privileged lifestyle of his fellow mages with the one where he was being hunted and despised. He sighed as Forrester turned his view of the world on its head once again. The old man seemed to know what he was feeling and clapped him on the shoulder and nodded to the door they were standing in front of. "That'll be your room. It's used for storage at the moment, but you won't be here for long and you need to keep a low profile so we can't risk putting you in the communal bunks. I'll let you know tomorrow what our tech guys manage to come up with for you." Ian nodded dully and Forrester walked off. He opened the door and found a spacious but cluttered room with a few cots in the corner. "Hmm," Ian remarked. "Not much better tha-" Ember cut him off as she grabbed his collar and dragged him to a nearby workbench. She pushed him to his knees and unbuttoned her pants, letting them cascade down her long legs before kicking them off. She then boosted herself atop the bench so that she was sitting on the edge, legs wide open. "Time to learn how to use your tongue," she declared with a wicked grin. He froze, hands at his sides, staring at her pert pink pussy peeking through the tiny tuft of hair sticking up from between her legs. His mouth watered and he leaned forward. Suddenly he stopped as an absurd revelation flashed through his mind. "I thought you took the girl's panties, too..." he wondered aloud at their absence. Ember grinned wider. "I took them as a souvenir, not to wear them," she laughed. Ian's prick soared at the naughty look that crossed her face. Slowly, he spread her legs apart and approached her cute snatch. "Start kissing along here, and use your fingers like this," she directed him in a commanding voice. "I'll tell you what to do next..." She moaned as his mouth found her puffy lips. His tongue glided over her folds and she shivered as he kissed the crevice between her thigh and cunt. "There you go, baby," Ember rasped. She twined her fingers through his hair and dropped her head back. As fate would have it, Val chose that moment to walk in through the open doorway. She had her arms full of linens and bedding, not paying much attention to her surroundings until she heard Ember moan. Glancing up, she squeaked in surprise as she realized they'd already occupied the room and were... engaged. She stared at Ian, frozen, as he tried to look over to see who it was. The demoness prevented the movement, still holding onto his hair, and silently urged him to continue. He shrugged and did as she wanted, not really caring who it was at this point. His cock was straining at the seams. Val watched the strange, erotic tableau for a few moments, never having seen a guy go down on a girl before. She'd heard about it, of course... but she'd always thought it was reserved for porn. She realized she was getting wet and dropped the bedding suddenly, rushing out of the room, flustered. Ember watched her leave through hooded eyes and smiled slyly. Without instruction, Ian began sucking on her clit and her legs clamped together around his head involuntarily. She smacked the top of his head and growled in a reproving voice, "Don't rush!" Path of the Necromancer Ch. 02 Ian gave a muffled chuckle despite the bruises he was probably going to be sporting the next day. He couldn't think of a better way to go than having those glorious legs wrapped around his head, face pressed firmly against her leaking pussy. He sighed as he felt her juices give way, her release rocketing through her body. Panting heavily, she released him and looked down at his sopping wet face. Without warning, she pressed her foot against his chest and shoved him hard, flinging him halfway across the room and onto his back --conveniently atop the dropped linens, in fact. Out of breath, he didn't have time to wonder how they got there before Ember was gripping the waist of his jeans and tugging them down around his ankles. "My turn," she hissed. She swiftly pulled back his tenting boxers and swallowed his cock whole. Ian groaned as his tip hit the back of her throat in one go and his head dropped back. "Fu- fuck!" he mumbled deliriously. Her eyes glittered in delight, her skillful throat muscles massaging him like only a sex demon knew how. And when she used her tongue... Ian moaned and tried valiantly to hold out for a length of time that wouldn't seem so pitiful. He was powerless to do so, however. Too soon he was erupting into her mouth, which sucked his offering greedily. Afterwards, she looked up at him, red eyes dancing, and smacked her lips. "Now that I've had my appetizer, I think I'd like the main course." He looked at her with wide eyes. "Uh, hey," he started. "I don't know if..." No sooner had he thought the words then Ember had manipulated his cock, returning it to its rock-hard state. His breathing quickened as she shifted forms, her tail lashing out across the inside of his thigh like a whip. Ian yelped and gazed into her purely evil grin and glowing red eyes. "Aww, shit..." he muttered. * * * * * The next morning, Ian was awoken by a knock on the door. Scraps, ever awake and watchful, padded over to the door and opened it cautiously. A boy that couldn't have been older than ten years of age stared up at the revenant with unchecked fear. "Yeees?" the black-clad golem asked imperiously. The kid's mouth dropped open in awe, like finding out this fearsome creature could talk was the most fascinating revelation since sliced bread. Finally, he managed to stutter, "B-breakfast. It's, uh- I'm supposed to show you the way." The revenant nodded and said as he shut the door, "Five minutes." Ember glanced at Ian and smiled devilishly. "We'll just have to make this a quickie then..." * * * * * The boy led them to a cafeteria area. After he and Ember loaded up their plates with scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns, they found Forrester waving them over from a table in the far corner of the room. They walked over and joined him, Val, and a tender-looking Bobby. Val blushed and looked away when Ian shot her a glance and Ember smirked. The old man tossed him an envelope with a smug expression and announced, "Welcome to the Night Watch." Ian caught it and emptied it out onto the table. He was stunned to find a driver's license, phone & charger, credit card, and a set of keys. He picked up the driver's license and stared at it. It looked like one of the pictures he'd taken in high school had been doctored against a blue background. Furthermore, it was horizontally oriented rather than vertically, which was used in Washington State as a way to tell if someone was over 21. He looked closer and exclaimed, "It has my real name!" Forrester chuckled. "It's just easier that way. All that matters is that you aren't 'the' Ian Cale who shows up in the system as being on the FBI watchlist. We set you up in the University District -more transients over there and less chance of you being noticed. The phone is untraceable and your apartment is unlisted, though if you get tailed they'll obviously know about it. If that happens, tell us and we'll move you." Ian did some calculations in his head. The area he was talking about was located to the north and slightly to the east. He was new to the area, but... "Isn't that on the other side of Capitol Hill? That's like two districts over... How am I supposed to react in time to a threat on the Industrial District?" Ian questioned. Forrester shrugged. "It's less than fifteen minutes if you drive down i-5. I'm fairly certain we can hold out for that long," he pointed out. "And the distance actually works in our favor because it disassociates you with us. It would have been much riskier to put you up in our territory -or in one of the bordering ones as they're run by the groups we have the worst relations with." Ian nodded and Ember asked, "Just how much of the Industrial District do you control?" Forrester sighed and the three looked at each other. Finally, Bobby spoke up, "It used to be all of it, but over the years our numbers have thinned. Nowadays, it's just the upper east portion of Industrial, south of the bridge. There was... there used to be a mage with us, but he broke off and started up a group called the Georgetown Syndicate that has been gobbling up our territory to the south." Val leaned forward and moved salt shakers and condiments around to draw the battle lines, outlining the situation. "If you look at a map, the immediate threats are: Georgetown from the south. To the west across the river there are the warring factions of Delridge. Beacon Hill is pressuring us from the east. Then there's Pioneer Square to the north and the International District to the northeast." "As you can see," she said, "we're pretty much pinned against the water to the northwest of here. All the factions residing in the surrounding territories see us as the weakest group and are determined to take our territory like they scent blood in the water. With the limited resources we have, well..." "We're screwed," Bobby clarified helpfully. "We can't even call the northwest safe as the fucking werewolves on Harbor Island control the shipping from there and they'll attack anyone." Ian's insides squirmed as he remembered the first time he'd seen a werewolf. He hadn't thought about them for ages. For a few moments, he just stared at the arrangement, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. 'How did these people keep this hidden from the public?' he wondered, gaining a smidgen of respect for the Inquisition whose job it was to cover it up. They were diligent, he had to give them that much. Seeing they were losing him, Forrester spoke up, "Don't think of them as bordering states. There are over a dozen districts and rarely are there clear distinctions between them with how often their area and control changes hands. You can take your car and drive through every one of them in the middle of the day." He leaned forward and projected with his hands. "Imagine each one is a separate sphere of influence and the various businesses and organizations in them are run by a specific group. In our case, the other groups are taking over the running of our district and replacing them with their own enterprises. Yes, there are physical raids that happen, but for the most part it's all about controlling our interests." Ian's eyes widened and before he could ask, Forrester rolled his eyes and staved off his question by saying, "No, I don't mean we own 'every' business in the Industrial District -we live out of a warehouse for Christ's sake... just those that deal with and are related to the supernatural communities in some way. They're all regulated differently and they need to interact with people that are on the up-and-up, especially when it comes to the sale and shipping of magical commodities." Ian took a deep breath and leaned back, trying to look at the situation he found himself in from a distance. What these people were telling him made his head hurt, but he tried to analyze his position empirically. It sounded a lot like he was diving headfirst into someone else's fight without knowing the circumstances or who the other players were. On the other hand, he had to admit his situation was a lot better than when he'd started. He glanced down at his shiny new phone, one of the spiffy razor-thin touch-screen models, and grimaced. He supposed if he accepted all this he would feel obligated to help them out. Sneaking a glance at Val, he also admitted to himself that he 'wanted' to help them. From what he'd seen, they were good people who were up against a wall. He sighed and looked to Ember questioningly. She shrugged and asked Forrester with a completely straight face, "How big's the bed in the apartment?" * * * * * The warehouse door ground open and Ian felt like he was stepping out into the 'real' world again. In the back of his mind, he doubted if there was really a silent war going on between different Seattle neighborhoods. The surreal experience didn't stop there, however. Parked in front of them was a brand new platinum-colored BMW M5. Ian made to walk around the car, shooting it an appreciative glance, when Ember poked him in the ribs and cleared her throat. He frowned as she simply waited. His eyes widened. "No..." He fished out his set of keys and flicked through them, glancing at the rubber tags mumbling, "Apartment key... Storage container..." He paused as he saw the telltale key wrapped in black plastic with the tiny BMW propeller logo on it. "Shit..." he muttered. Ember glanced at the car, then at the rundown warehouse and back. "Where the hell did they get the money for this?" "They didn't, obviously," Grim said. "You never told that old geezer your last name. I'm betting when whoever fixed you in the system found out that you were a wanted necromancer, their organization, for whatever reason, jumped to the front of the line to try and please you instead of reporting you. Hell, Forrester might have even encouraged it by playing you up a bit so you'd get better treatment and stick around." Ember laughed, "It seems the underworld in general doesn't care much for the death order on necros. So long as you can benefit them, they're happy to do business." She grinned and swiped the keys from Ian's stunned grasp. He shot her a look. "Hey!" he exclaimed, but she was already crossing to the driver's side. "Pff," she laughed. "If you think I'm letting 'you' get first dibs, you can kiss my ass. In fact, we'll add that to your ancillary duties later." Ian made to argue and then sighed. It wasn't worth it. And how often does an eighteen year-old get the chance to be chauffeured around by the hottest chick on the planet... "Guess this is all an attempt to curry favor with you, though," she commented as she gripped the steering wheel excitedly. As Ian sunk into the black leather of the passenger seat while Scraps got into the back with his bag holding Grim, he sighed dreamily. "It's working..." he murmured. While the four drove off, Agent Lily Hunter watched them from the other side of the chain-link fence. She'd come as soon as she'd been notified about the warlock victim, knowing it would probably be too late. Calling the Night Watch this morning on the way over though, she'd been confused when they told her a minor regeneration bath was all that was required. When their leader had come to their office the day before, he'd implied the injured person was on his deathbed. She'd assumed they'd found a mage somewhere to stop the advance of the Hellfire, but she hadn't expected to find the boy that had spared her after they'd raided his motel room. 'Did he somehow managed to help the save the wounded?' she wondered. As she walked towards the front entrance, she decided that perhaps she'd keep her finding to herself. This didn't fit what the department had told them about necromancers at all... * * * * * Ember bounced up the stairs of the gated apartment complex, eager to scope out her much improved residence. Ian trailed behind her, eyes locked onto her bubbly ass. Scraps took up the rear carrying his bag. As they reached the top of the stairs, they saw a blonde model built like an Amazon just leaving her room, a basket of laundry in her arms. Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail and she was wearing sweats and a T-shirt. While she wasn't freakishly huge or well-muscled, she did have maybe an inch on Ian and her arms were toned without an ounce of fat showing. Fit didn't even begin to cover her; she was almost... predatory. She looked up as they trooped up and beamed. "You must be the new folks moving into apartment 22," she stated with just the hint of a Russian accent. "I'm jealous, the previous owners put in a washer and dryer --I've still gotta do mine downstairs." Ember smiled at her hungrily like she was eying a piece of meat. "Well," she offered, a husky lilt coming to her voice, "you're more than welcome to come use ours anytime." The girl laughed nervously, then paused and sniffed the air. Ian had already sensed she was a werewolf and waited, wondering why the fates hated him. She frowned as if she couldn't place the scent and shot Scraps a curious glance. After a few moments, she seemed to shrug off whatever had caught her attention. "I'm Kiara," she finally said. "I'll be a sophomore next semester at UW. Do you attend?" Ian smiled thinly and shook his head. He was entranced by her gold-colored eyes. Not golden-specked, but a pure, rich hue. Having exhausted that line of conversation, she threw them another smile and walked past. As she descended the stairs, she called over her shoulder, "Welcome to the neighborhood." "She looks yummy," Ember commented, not at all quietly. Ian grunted noncommittally, trying to calculate the odds that his new apartment just 'happened' to be near where a supernatural creature lived. "Oi," he asked Grim as they entered the apartment next to Kiara's, "I thought those fur bags were all supposed to live in the forest and shit..." Grim sighed and grumbled something about Twilight lowering his IQ. "The actual ritual that created them originated in ancient Greece. They've adapted with the times," he explained. "If I remember correctly, there are packs all throughout the Pacific that have formed a sort of conglomeration to control the shipping market." Ember nodded. "Most supernatural creatures keep to themselves, preferring to be the wolves among the sheep," she pointed out. "The Were have a strong sense of community, though. They couldn't afford to not be competitive just so they could support each other through each generation. A hundred years ago, that meant shipbuilding and trading. Now, they have roots in nearly every type of business and are very much a visible player in the magical community." Conversation dropped off as they viewed their surroundings. Ian was impressed. Going through the door you were met with a well-equipped kitchen with a marble island to your left and a small unenclosed dining room on the right with a bookcase up against the wall. As you traversed further into the dwelling, a large living room took up center stage with three doors taking up the left wall, the flat screen TV taking up the right, and what looked to be a small room that was probably for the laundry in the far corner. Looking directly across from him on the other side of the living room, he could see a sliding door leading to a balcony beyond. Ian checked out the rooms the three doors led to and found the balcony connected with the master bedroom which had an attached bath. Then there was a second bedroom and a guest bathroom. The complex already had a gym and thus images of a pool table flittered through his mind as he envisioned turning the second bedroom into a 'man cave.' The entire place was fully furnished and there was even a laptop on a side table. "Shit..." he muttered. Going out onto the balcony, all he could see was the building on the other side and the street below. Shrugging, he went back inside and was struck by the image of Ember stripping in the middle of the room. She turned to him and in a nonchalant tone admonished, "You have yet to give me my daily scrubbing." Ian just about ripped his shirt off in his rush to get undressed. Grim commented, "You never used to be this obsessed with sex." Ian was about to shoot back some offhand remark about horny young males when he stopped and looked suspiciously at Ember. She admired her nails, looking entirely too innocent. Finally, she looked up and pouted. "It's not my fault. I secrete pheromones," she whined in a little girl's voice, stamping her foot. Ian's eyes widened. She sighed, and in the next instant her demeanor changed to that of pure woman, oozing sexuality as she stalked towards him. "...And there's not a damn thing you can do about it," she declared in a lusty growl. Her hand reached up and slapped him lightly on the cheek. "So shut up and get naked before I take your hesitance as an offer to play rough." As she turned and walked slowly, sensuously to the bathroom, Ian thought he was going to explode. Then he caught side of her perfect heart-shaped ass bobbing naked to the rhythm of her hips. He supposed his pride could take one for the team... Ian chuckled as he finished removing his clothes and headed after her. 'Who am I kidding?' he thought. 'I don't deserve her in the first place.' It was times like these she kept him honest. * * * * * After their steamy shower, the couple lay naked on the bed. Ian was on his back with his arms crossed behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. Ember was molded to him, face buried in the crook of his neck, one leg draped over him. Her fingers were playing with the tip of his hard cock like a favorite pastime she could do unconsciously; a Rubik's cube savant that could solve the puzzle in her sleep. Ian sighed contentedly. Hot shower... check. Mind-blowing sex... check. A pair of mouthwatering tits mashed against him... fucking check. He could die happy right now with no regrets. He was unable to believe how much his life had changed in the past couple of days. A slight frown marred his features as he considered the lotus fruit he was being offered. Thinking critically, he tried to understand the intentions of his mysterious benefactors. They hadn't revealed themselves or made their motivations known, which meant their aims were at least partially the same as Forrester's. He let out an involuntary moan as Ember pinched the head of his cock, keeping him from release. He chuckled softly and reached down to stroke her hair. He closed his eyes and delved deeper. What he'd been given was nice --especially since he'd gone into it with virtually nothing. However, a midrange luxury vehicle and a two-bedroom apartment with no view weren't exactly breaking the bank if these guys were a high-end, top-notch organization. This could mean two things if he was to believe Forrester that they really wanted him badly. Other they were extremely savvy and didn't want to give him everything upfront, stringing him along with goodies until he did what they wanted, or they 'weren't' on top of the food chain. Guessing they'd use the most tempting gifts they could obtain to get him hooked, he was leaning towards the second option. If he then assumed his investors weren't in charge of running things over in Central, he could be pretty damn sure they wanted to be. This desperation would also account for why they'd ignored the little tidbit about him being a necromancer so long as it would get them what they wanted. The bad news was that they would likely be sending him against whoever 'was' top dog. He grimaced at that line of thought, but accepted that it was other this or to go back on the streets. He flexed his neck muscles and rolled his shoulders as he thought about the future. There might have been other offers depending on who found him first, but Ian was satisfied with what he'd been given so far. He understood and accepted that the people using him had their own self-interests at heart. It was decision time and he chose to stick with it. It was going to be a challenge facing whatever they threw at him, but at least he wouldn't get bored. He chuckled as he remembered Grim's words, 'time to see if all that waiting and training will pay off...' Path of the Necromancer Ch. 02 Ember bit his neck and sat up with a throaty laugh. "You're thinking too loud," she teased, as she threw a leg over him, mounting his pulsing member. Ian moaned as she sunk down his length. "So, have you decided?" she asked rocking her hips. "Decided?" he asked innocently, rubbing her velvety smooth legs as she straddled him. She threw him a saucy look and twitched her hips, drawing a wince from her cheeky lover. "You know they have an agenda?" He chuckled. "Everyone has an agenda," he mused. "However, I think it's an acceptable trade. Before I hand them what they want on a silver platter though, I think I'll pay them a visit to renegotiate my contract." She smiled as she raised her hips, her spines dragging along his length and making him raise his hips involuntarily. "Good," she murmured, "'cause I really like the apartment." She paused before adding with a wicked grin, "And the neighbors." Ember rode him faster and squeezed his cock in a way that boggled his mind. "Oh shit," he cried out. "That's cheating..." Her melodious laugh echoed around the room and she shifted forms just enough to summon her tail. As she felt herself let go, her new appendage tickled his balls and a single spine rubbed against the underside of his cockhead. He arched his back as she caused his mind to blank and drove his prick deep inside her as he exploded. She fell atop him as they panted heavily. She grinned up at him. "You're getting pretty good," she giggled. He grinned down at her and started tickling her. "Pretty good?" he accused in mock indignation. "'Just' pretty good, huh?" She laughed, squirming around and screaming, "Stop! No... cut it out!" She turned and hit him playfully. Of course, playful for her was punching him in the gut so hard he doubled over. "I warned you," she pointed out as she stood and began fixing her hair. Ian was trying to breathe and laugh at the same time, currently failing miserably on both accounts. "Now," she told him. "Get dressed. You're taking me shopping." On the way over, Ian had called the number on the back of the credit card and found that he had a ten thousand dollar a month spending limit. He'd originally thought that was pure gold, comparing it to the allowance his parents used to leave him. As he looked at Ember as she danced around the room picking up stray articles of clothing, he began to reconsider that assumption. * * * * * The next day while he and his companions were out eating (though only two actually consumed anything), he received a text that told him to show up that night at an address a few blocks from the warehouse the Night Watch ran. He hummed in curiosity when he saw the words 'escort duty' attached. "Looks like it's starting already," Ember said as he looked up. "No rest for the living," Grim commented, chuckling at his own joke. That night, all four rested in the car as it was pouring rain. Ian chuckled and rested his head back. Ember looked at him curiously and he explained, "Just trying to figure out what to call my current occupation... Contractor, mercenary, hired muscle?" She gave a throaty laugh and ruffled his hair. "That's okay, baby. I'll handle the heavy lifting. I know how delicate you are..." "I guess we know who wears the pants in this relationship," Grim observed. Ian just shook his head and laughed at the good-natured ribbing. Finally, a van pulled up down the street and flashed its high beams twice. They got out and entered it through the back seeing Bobby, Val, and some of the other kids --most of whom he recognized from that night in the alleyway. They greeted each other all around as the van drove off and Bobby outlined the planned events of the evening. "Should be an easy run tonight," the enthusiastic captain advised. "We're picking up a shipment of goblin-crafted energy cores from Pike Place Market and delivering them to one of our factories that'll use them as the main component for the order of wizard staves we have lined up. Then we're dropping off a crate of chimera eggs bound for Japan to the werewolves." Ian crinkled his brow. "I thought you were all at war with each other," he asked in confusion. "We are," Bobby confirmed, shrugging his shoulders, "but the orders still need to be filled. Have to play nice with each other, all the while making sure the other doesn't stab you in the back. 'Cept for the werewolves, of course. When I say 'drop off,' I mean we drop the crate at the delivery point and take off..." "The danger," Val spoke up, not sharing her brother's confidence in how smoothly tonight would run, "is that other factions not involved in the trade will likely attack us as a form of financial sabotage. If we fail to complete our delivery, the buyers will look elsewhere. Also, our sponsors lose money, which means they pay us less or possibly shift their support to another group altogether." Ian winced as he felt another headache coming on. Oblivious, Val continued, "The most likely group to hit us is the Tiandihui, a Chinese organization that actually predates the triads. They have a branch based out of the International District. Not only are they close to our route, but they were the ones we beat out for the contract." Ember giggled as their situation worsened. "This might actually turn out to be fun," she stated, getting excited. The others shot her incredulous looks. Scraps just memorized the map Bobby had placed in front of them. Roughly ten minutes later, they arrived at Pike Place through a delivery entrance that smelled of fish. It was actually a fairly efficient process as a dozen ewok-looking individuals came out of the shadows and loaded up the back with two giant crates wrapped indiscriminately. Ian tried to peek into one of their hoods and Val elbowed him in the ribs. "They don't like that," she murmured redundantly. They all squeezed back into the van, their knees resting against the crates and took off back to their territory. Ian was actually starting to get a bit bored. Just then, as if the fates had heard him, multiple black sedans approached from behind with their high beams on. Ian could see them accelerate through the back windows and try to box the van in. "Why don't they just shoot out the tires?" Ian asked as Ember was thrown into him, their wheelman swerving to evade the pursuers. "Mi- shit!" Val tried to explain as she hit the back of her head. "That might flip us. They want the cores intact to ransom back to the buyer." "That's actually happened before?" Grim asked incredulously at her definite tone. She glared at him. "I told you we had no mages..." Ian nodded and said, "Whelp, I guess that's my queue." He turned the handle on the door while they were still moving at 60mph and said, "Go get 'em." The others watched in shocked disbelief as Scraps jumped out of the speeding van, hit the asphalt, and didn't so much as roll as glide over it before smashing into the nearest chasing vehicle. Shrapnel of every kind flew in all directions and the sound of metal tearing and crunching rang out. The car behind it managed to veer out of the way, shuddering to a halt just before it could run into a building, but the one behind that saw the stopped and crumpled obstruction too late to turn away. "Hey oh..." Ian commented mildly as the last car rear-ended the first and the back end came up off the pavement before slamming down again. "Two for the price of one..." They got onto the expressway and began to relax again as the rain died down. Ember glanced out the window. "So, uh... What about Scraps?" "He'll catch up," Grim remarked, unconcerned. It turned out not to matter in the greater scheme of things because as they took the off-ramp, there was an ambush set up. The same type of cars moved out to block the narrow one-lane exit. On pure instinct, the driver of the van swerved off the road and down a grassy embankment, bumpily getting them down onto a side street. It seemed their pursuers were ready for that though as a car slammed into the side of the van, pinning it to a brick building to their left. As the van grinded against the structure, more cars showed up, pinning them in. Ian sighed at having to do the dirty work and opened the backdoors. Guns opened fired and the bullets seemed to melt away as they came into contact with his invisible shield. Using his will alone, he began lifting bodies a dozen feet or so up into the air and letting them drop down again. Suddenly Ember slammed into him, knocking them both to the ground as a wave of compressed sound screeched over them and in into the windows of the building beyond, shattering them and exploding glass in all directions. "It's the banshee!" one of Bobby's lieutenants cried as they huddled in the van. Val tried to jump out to reach him, but Bobby wrapped an arm around her and hauled her back. He took out a handgun from somewhere and began firing around the door. Ian, his ears ringing, got to his feet, trying to identify the threat. Ember dragged him behind one of the conveniently-parked sedans as another blast rang out along where they'd just been. "Keep her busy," Ember told him, then streaked off into the night. Ian stared after her, incredulous. He didn't even know what this thing was. "Hey, Grim," Ian shouted as he willed one gunman's head through the glass window he'd been peeking around. "You been holdin' out on me? What the fuck's a banshee?" "Never thought you'd actually see one," the ghostly presence provided helpfully. "Switch your shields, it's an elemental blast." Ian did as he'd suggested and dived out from behind the sedan as a wailing blast totaled it. Ian saw the banshee standing next to a black car surrounded by goombas and almost stopped in his tracks. She was a short Asian girl with bubblegum pink hair and a black gothic dress that had ruffles and everything. She thrust her arms out to her sides as if gathering energy, strands of her hair standing on end. He was so entranced by the display, he almost forgot to dodge as she screeched again and a wall of force thundered past him. He tried to shove at her with his will and was stopped cold, hitting a barrier that was so strong it seemed to push him back. He didn't want to raise the dead, use Spiritfire, or anything else that would give him away, but if Ember didn't hurry the hell up... The girl smirked at him and mocked, "Not much of a warlock if you can't even cast Hellfire..." Just then, a winged formed dived out of the darkness behind them and a wave of Hellfire rained down on their position, incinerating her comrades and singing her dress as she dived out of the way. She came up with a shocked expression and fired a flurry of blasts at Ember seemingly from the hip. Each one missed as the succubus didn't seem to dodge so much as vanish into thin air and appear just off the mark. Finally, the girl seemed to have had enough and wailed what seemed to be a barrage of widely dispersed shrills that were less powerful but succeeded in buffeting Ember back. The banshee retreated with purpose, diving into the one surviving sedan and it sped off into the darkness. Ian stared after it with a stunned expression, doubting if this night could get any stranger. Ember landed softly next to him, dusting herself off. "Miss me?" she asked cheekily. He grinned and slapped her ass. "How 'bout you move those cars so the van can get out, Ms. Heavy Lifter?" he asked audaciously. She squeaked in surprise and her eyes blazed with lust as she gazed at him. The passengers were a bit shook up and the van was making noises Ian didn't think were indicative of a clean bill of health, but aside from that they made it to the production warehouse without incident. While they sat in the back, Val was looking at Ember with newfound respect. Ian turned to the demoness and mentioned, "I didn't know you could cast Hellfire." Ember gave a snort. "Just where do you think warlocks learned it from?" There was another nondescript white van waiting for them when they reached the warehouse, along with a bored-looking revenant that wordlessly got in beside Ian as they switched vehicles. Ian noticed the amount of people milling around the warehouse and was impressed with the size of the operation. The eggs were already resting inside, surrounded by some kind of incubators. Narrowing his eyes as Bobby got in and passed around a set of very illegal-looking firearms, Ian questioned, "You have automatic weapons... Why didn't you use them before?" Val checked her clip and explained, "For the most part, there is an unwritten rule that guns aren't allowed in residential areas and other highly-populated sectors likely to bring cops running. The waterfront, where we're headed, doesn't make the list." Ian struggled to comprehend the logic of this. "But smashing vehicles is okay?" he asked skeptically. "It's a psychological thing," Bobby explained. "People hear gunshots, they start writing to their senator about how unsafe the area they're living in is. The government asks questions and the Inquisition has to come in and cover everything up. They then put pressure on the rest of us to behave or they'll start shutting down whole districts." "There have been purges before and the backers in Central have made it clear that keeping discrete is mandatory," Val explained. "For the most part, we don't even bother taking guns on jobs anymore, but this is different." Ian frowned at the implied danger on a supposedly 'regular drop off.' She added, a bit sheepishly, "Well, that and we kind of stole 'these' from a group out in Beacon Hill. The limited number we have is usually reserved for defense." "Back at the off-ramp though..." he started to say. "That was on our border and the area is considered sparsely populated enough to get away with it. If we would have made it a few blocks further, our own armed guards would have been able to cover us," Val explained. "How do you think we've been able to combat other groups who have mages at their disposal?" Ian had wondered about that... "No wonder your numbers are dwindling," Grim remarked, "you're all suicidal..." Bobby frowned and made to defend his people only to be waved down by Val. She explained as the van started moving, "Me and Bobby..." her voice cracked. "Our mother abandoned us when she brought us to this country. A vampire fed on her once and she got addicted to the sensation it induced. She decided to throw away her life and live her days as a blood slave, leaving us to fend for ourselves. The Night Watch took us in when we had nowhere else to go. Yes, it's dangerous, but it's also rewarding." Her gaze unfocused and she said in a soft voice, "You're new so you don't understand the true extent of our organization or how many people it helps. The base here in the Industrial District is just one aspect, but the trade it does is critical to funding its entire operation. The ripple effect that would occur if we fell is unfathomable." Ian sat back and absorbed what she'd said, Ember leaning against him. A short while later they reached their destination in a clearing near the delta that trailed into the river which separated them from Delridge. Across the greater body of water of Puget Sound that flowed into the delta was Harbor Island and in the distance they could make out the lights of the West Seattle Bridge. They all got out and began the delicate process of transferring the eggs to a pallet that had been set out. From a nearby grove of trees that was maybe a hundred yards off on the opposite side of the clearing from the river they heard menacing growls and the branches and bushes began to shake. A long, lone howl rose up. The werewolves Ian guessed with a derisive snort. Bobby looked at the woods uneasily. Undefined shapes could be seen darting back and forth between the gaps in the trees. "They're early," he revealed. "They don't usually show up until after we've left. We almost never see any sign of them." Ian shrugged unconcernedly and leaned against the van as the others continued the unloading process. * * * * * In the grove of trees, out of their line of sight, Kiara Volchitsa sat on a rock bored to tears as her packmates made a ruckus. She thought it was all a little ridiculous that they tried to make themselves look as fierce and bloodthirsty as possible, but as her father always said, 'those you can cow with intimidation today are those you won't have to fight tomorrow.' And no one was about to question one of the council elders who led the combined packs and was even a big decision maker here in the city. While other packs still maintained the traditional alpha-led institution, their particular breed of Were had done away with it long ago when they'd joined together and become so large that politics started to play a role in the governing of things. She winced as a particularly annoying yipping started up. That'd be her younger cousin. She sighed heavily. Suddenly, she perked up as she caught a familiar scent. It was an intoxicating mix of pheromones and danger. Shifting form, she stretched to her full nine feet in height, pristine snow white spiky fur covering her entire frame, a fluffy tail waving behind her. Crouching in a rest position, she flexed her razor sharp claws and began a lazy lope out of the tree line to investigate, ignoring the inquisitive calls of her pack. * * * * * Danielle Chevalier lay flat against the mud bank, looking down the scope of her AS50 sniper rifle, watching the miscreants unload the van. The Church-sanctioned Demon Slayer of the 9th Order wondered for the umpteenth time what she was doing there. They'd given her the time and location of the drop-off with instructions to create insurmountable tension between the two groups. When the Church had taken her in after her family had been slaughtered by a demon, it had been to shape her for a higher calling. At least, that's what they'd always told her. So far, all she'd been doing for the past two years since they'd declared her ready to take up the fight at the ripe old age of sixteen had been unexplained assassination assignments and one job infiltrating a cult out in the Midwest that hadn't led to anything. They'd assured her that she would cleanse the world and that her actions held a greater purpose. She sighed as the High Inquisitor's favorite quote rang in her head, "What right does the clay have to question the potter?" She used to consider everything they'd told her as irrefutable fact. She wondered when it was she'd started doubting what they decreed. A memory flashed through her mind and she shuddered and clenched her eyes shut as the screams of one of her former peers at the enclave hung by spikes attached to the ceiling, slowly being roasted alive by the flames below. Her breathing picked up and she buried her head against her arm to stave off another panic attack. 'Yes,' she thought grimly, trying to block out the images that still plagued her nightmares. 'I remember the exact moment I lost my faith.' She sniffled and rubbed her eyes, shaking herself furiously. Still, Dani wondered at what her actions tonight were supposed to accomplish. She knew the Order had it in for more than demons. In fact, they disliked mages and most, if not all, supernatural creatures in general, only interacting with them when they were forced to. In some countries the Church resided in, they still had a branch dedicated to witch hunting. However, this group- this... 'Night Watch' didn't have either. If she provoked a fight with the Were, they'd be massacred. There had been rumors of some high-ranking bishops in the city participating in the control games going on in Central, using the Slayers as their personal tools to rig the outcome of events in their favor. Unfounded rumors that were made up of the usual backroom whisperings that created drama and intrigue without anyone actually believing it, of course. She believed it... Path of the Necromancer Ch. 02 Dani grimaced as she surveyed the land. She did have one card to play, however. While she was sworn to do her duty, she doubted those manipulating her had accounted for the Delridge militia that had shown up in force about ten minutes ago, crossing the river in Zodiacs. They were about three hundred yards off at the mouth of the delta, waiting in eagerness for the shipment to be unloaded so they could swoop in and grab it. Dani shook her head. She didn't know much about the warring factions, but it seemed ridiculous that everyone knew the exact time and place this was going down. There had to be a mole or three in their organization, or perhaps one of their backers was playing both sides. Whatever the case, it didn't matter anymore as the militia began moving, seeing the Night Watch had finished. Adrenaline rushed through her as she searched frantically for a werewolf to hit. If she timed it right, the Were would think they were being attacked by one of the factions from Delridge and the Night Watch could escape. She'd already switched out her incendiary rounds for her enchanted ones. One shot and she'd at least remove one more monster from the world. 'Come on, come on,' she urged, trying to get a bead on the vague targets darting between the trees. Suddenly, a snow white form jumped out at her through the scope. * * * * * They'd just finished unloading and were getting back into the van when a scrawny kid buried in a jacket much too big for him cried out, "Were!" Everyone quickly looked back towards the woods. Val smacked him upside the head. "It's just one," she admonished. "Quit scaring the crap out of everybody." Ian waited, one foot resting on the back bumper as the werewolf leisurely made its way over to them. He didn't know what this was about, but it was nearly 2AM... The least it could do was hurry its ass up. The werewolf neared and then froze when it got a good look at him. Ian's eyes narrowed as he took in the thing's appearance. Just as he began to associate the piercing golden orbs of the beast that shined in the moonlight with the beauty he'd seen in the apartment complex, a shot rang out. The round pierced her heart and traveled out the other side. Kiara fell to her knees as if in slow motion, her form shifting back to human, a shocked expression on her face. The world seemed to freeze as silence permeated the clearing and Ian leapt towards her, catching her body before it could hit the ground. In the next instant, chaos reigned. Dozens of shifters exploded out of the trees and charged them. An equal number of the group from Delridge rushed them from the other side. One of Bobby's lieutenants shouted, "It's a trap! They're trying to blame it on us." Ian ignored it all as he held the girl and felt the rest of her vitals start to fail. He called on his magic, desperately trying to freeze her organs in suspended animation. What was left of her heart wasn't even twitching and she was clinically dead. The militia from Delridge slowed their charge as they realized just how many 'too-deadly-to-be-called wolves' there were and that they were actually 'attacking.' Suddenly, the idea of an easy snatch and grab was fast turning into a nightmare. The shifters noticed the Delridge group as well and most of them broke off to face what they thought was the main element in an ambush. At the van, Bobby hesitated as he saw them stuck in the middle of a very bad situation. He wanted to shout at the Were, 'it wasn't us!' He wanted to rail at the heavens at the unfairness of it all. Yet, he knew they needed to get out of there. He had to protect his people. Unfortunately, he realized, Ian wasn't inside the van, and as he watched, the succubus and the cloaked thing ran out to defend his kneeling, oblivious form. 'What the hell is he doing?!' Bobby screamed in his head. Stuck between fight or flight, his sister took the situation out of his hands as she grabbed her G36 and ran zigzagging towards where she thought the sniper was. "God fucking damnit!" Bobby roared punching the side of the van. "Fire. Fire!" He aimed his own rifle as the rest of them crowded out the back and raised their M4 carbines towards the onrushing mass of fur and death, knowing they couldn't do anything but slow them down. The running wolves were peppered by automatic fire, many of them going down in tumbles of flying dirt and yips of pain. Most of the ones who fell were more hurt by the fall than the projectiles though, and a good portion got back on their paws and continued. On the other side of the field, the werewolves and the militia engaged each other. The Delridge faction had a total of three mages and the rest were armed. The shifters ripped into the shell-shocked humans, taking a good bite out of their numbers before they recovered enough to make a concerted effort to fend off the attacks. One wizard with an affinity for Earth Magic took a small squad and sneaked around the melee to try and secure the precious cargo. At the site Kiara fell, Ian desperately worked to keep her... well, not 'alive,' but at least inhabited with a soul. He anchored it to her body, not letting her fade away. He couldn't regenerate tissue, let alone a new heart, but he could make it so her body didn't need a heart to function. Before he could finish that thought, she scared the shit out of him when she woke up suddenly gasping for air she no longer needed. Ian's eyes widened and he lunged for her head, keeping her chin up so she wouldn't see the gaping hole in her own chest. At the same time, he desperately tried to knock her out again with a sleep spell. Her entire body shuddered as she could feel everything that was happening to her, his magic dulling nothing in terms of pain. Her terrified eyes locked onto his and she shivered. "S- s- so c- cold," she stuttered. Tears leaked out of his eyes as he winced at what it must feel like to no longer be connected to a part of your body anymore, your insides having been numbed, and yet still able to feel that there was something missing. On the third try, he managed to overpower her excited nervous system and her eyes closed as she fell into a deep sleep. Ember mumbled quietly, "Company..." Ian spared a quick glance to take account of the situation. "You take the Were. Try not to kill them," he said. "Scraps, take those guys trying to sneak up behind us. I don't care how you deal with them." Ian could feel Kiara's soul tugging at his grasp and he tightened his grip, locking it in place. Ember dashed forward to meet the onrushing lupine creatures, shooting jets of Hellfire in their path to slow them down and make them concentrate on her. She had a small advantage over them in speed, but they had the numbers and knew how to work together. Bobby and the rest began concentrating their fire on those werewolves that tried to jump over the flames, hitting them in midair in controlled bursts. Scraps charged the oncoming squad of militia as they crept up behind the van and tore through two of the gunmen before they even knew he was there. Then he was dodging rock projectiles and moving fast as the ground beneath him constantly turned to quicksand. On the other side of the clearing, the Delridge militia had actually begun to turn their luck around and was pushing the Were back towards the area around the van. One of the mages worked to maintain a shield around a cluster of them while the other, an unregistered druid, summoned huge vines that were gripping and thrashing any of the werewolves that weren't fast enough to evade their grasp. All the while shifters fell like flies from automatic fire, though mortal injuries were rare. Ian was getting angrier, his temper flaring, soon to become volatile. He needed to find a healer fast to regenerate what he was preserving and her own kin were attacking the wrong people, even managing to bite and scratch Ember twice. Scraps was currently locked in a stalemate as he was entombed in a pillar of Earth, but if the mage let up on the metric tons of pressure he was using to hold the revenant in, he'd die in a heartbeat. When a round whizzed past his head from the main Delridge group, he'd had enough. He stood up and bowed his head, clenching his fists. Making sure his link to Kiara was secure and her soul wasn't going to slip, he let the spirits around him use his magic to manifest themselves, not even trying to regulate the power flowing out of him. The battle on all sides froze as thousands of ghostly shades appeared around the clearing. Ian's eyes flashed open, glowing green as a wispy, smoky aura surrounded him from all the energy he was channeling. He formed a single, all-encompassing command in his mind of what he wanted done and then unleashed the dead. The roiling mass of ghosts exploded into action. The spectral horde began ripping the remaining militia apart while buffeting and corralling the werewolves into a big circle. Individually, they couldn't do much physically. But together, with countless eager grasping hands, it was a nightmare for anyone without a strong shield. One mage faltered under the weight of the attacks, but the Earth Mage and the druid held strong, directing their focus to Ian, trying to bring him down. The druid tried to wrap him in vines, but the hardy tentacles caught ablaze before they could reach him, seeming to writhe in agony as Spiritfire ran down their entire lengths. Caught by surprise, his head snapped back as Bobby shot him when he saw his shield falter. The Earth Mage tried a different approach and simply threw chucks of rock at Ian. He was prepared for the shield to stop them though, and the rocks didn't break apart on contact. Instead, they seemed to stick to the shield, wrapping around it like a stone cocoon. At the same time, Ian sunk, the earth seeming to bend around Ian's shield like a bubble, compressing it with more and more force. Lastly, a ball of earth was raised high overhead, reshaping and hardening into a deadly spike that was poised to pierce Ian's weakened shield. In his eagerness though, his control that was keeping Scraps trapped lessened and the revenant exploded out of the brittle casing, wrapping a bandaged hand around the Earth Mage's neck and snapping it in one fluid motion, disintegrating the constructs that trapped Ian as the energy that held them together vanished. After the last of the screams had died away, a still calm descended over the clearing. The werewolves growled and shifted around, but a solid ring of ghosts kept them trapped where they were. Ian approached them as Ember scooped up Kiara's unconscious body and trailed after him. "Anyone a healer?" he asked them without preamble. The shifters simply stared back at him with hostility. Ian sighed, not expecting to get anywhere. Pointing at Kiara and doing charades while trying to get them to understand that it wasn't too late for her would doubtless produce the same results. He'd been about to use force to get a few of them to change back to human-form so he could at least have a conversation when a horn was blown in the distance. It was a deep, chilling sound that set his teeth on edge. All the werewolves in the circle perked up at the sound and seemed to get excited. He sighed, thinking, 'reinforcements then.' Turning to Bobby, he said, "You should leave now." Prepared for the young leader's arguments, Ian added, "Ember will go after Val. You need to get back to the warehouse. Too many people knew about this." "It's likely another faction decided to use this as a distraction," he reasoned. "I'll send Scraps along as well once I'm finished here." Bobby was torn between leaving Ian to face an army of werewolves, trusting his sister's safety to a demon, and going back to defend his home. Finally, the responsibility of all those relying on him determined his next action. He turned and ordered the others in motion. Ember rested Kiara at Ian's feet and straightened, looking him in the eye. Threading her fingers through his hair, she pulled him in for a deep, possessive kiss. "Stay alive," she murmured as she leaned back. A goofy smile crossed Ian's face and she rolled her eyes. "If you manage to get yourself killed, I'll reach into the pits of the underworld to get you back... just so I can kill you myself for making me go through the trouble." With that, she shifted form, spread her wings, and took off into the night. Ian and Scraps turned to face the oncoming host. SUVs and Jeeps with mounted .50 Cal machine gun turrets were bearing down on them, hunchbacked figures loping along beside them. The werewolves in the circle were looking decidedly positive given their current predicament. Ian raised his hand palm upward and the nearly forty dead bodies around the clearing picked themselves up and formed ranks in front of him. He waited, half expecting them to open fire as soon as they got into range. They seemed to take into consideration the trapped packmates, however -probably thinking along the lines of them being hostages. "As if I needed such a thing," Ian chuckled to himself darkly. He was feeling lightheaded from all the power he was channeling. He was also pissed off that he'd been forced to reveal himself. The repercussions for the Night Watch were unknown and coupled with his bad history of werewolves, he really didn't know what he'd do if they pressed him. One thing was for sure, he wasn't in a charitable mood. The vehicles skidded to a stop on the gravel, a massive line of shifters and steel facing off against Ian. Three individuals in human-form that were clearly the leaders stepped out of a Jeep and moved to the front of the ranks of Were, numbering close to a hundred strong, standing a dozen feet in front of the line of undead. There was a tension in the air that clashed with the quiet stillness of the clearing, interrupted only by the multitude of growls that made up an eerie rumbling. The wind ruffled Ian's hair as he stared them down. Then, one of the three, a blond-haired bear of a man, caught sight of Kiara laying there at the necromancer's feet and he choked out a cry of rage, grief, and disbelief. He surged forward and the incorporated pack tensed. But as the man reached the line of undead, instead of attacking, they opened their ranks to let him pass. He stumbled to his knees when he reached her and cradled her head in his arms. Holding her to his chest, he rocked his body, repeating over and over, "No, no, no..." Ian let out the breath he'd been holding and stated, "She can still be saved." The man looked up sharply at his words and his face went from showing incredulity to fury when he thought he was being mocked. He could feel that she didn't have a pulse. He could see the gaping wound in her chest and knew that whatever had made it had been enchanted as there were no signs of regeneration. "I'm keeping her soul anchored," Ian explained. "I could wake her, but she'd be in tremendous pain. I need someone to fix her internal organs and whatever else is wrong before her body can support her soul on its own." The man stared at Ian for a long moment before he raised his voice, "Orlov, quick! Get over here." The two remaining leaders, a man and a woman, stepped forward in alarm. "What are you doing?" the man shouted. "Can't you see he's trying to trick you? She's gone, Konstantin. There are others who need the shaman's help." "You can't trust him," the woman advised worriedly. "Come away from there and we'll remove his wickedness from the world." Orlov stepped forward despite the others' protests. Ian didn't know if shamans had a Hippocratic Oath, but he got the impression that the chance to save a life trumped whatever conditioned displeasure they had for necromancers. The male leader who'd taken offense turned to the others and ordered, "Attack! Can't you see what he is? Attack, damn you!" The mass of werewolves shuffled nervously, but none moved forward. Whether it was because the blond-haired leader trumped the other's authority or they were still concerned about the 'hostages,' Ian didn't know. The agitator turned bright red in the face at their inaction and turned to glare at the blond-haired man. "You know the law!" he accused. "Not even you can go against the Council's decree." The blond man stood and faced his accuser and in a firm voice declared, "I will do whatever it takes if there's even the smallest chance of saving my daughter." The other man's eyes flashed in triumph. He growled at Kiara's father, already shifting forms, "Then the conditions have been met and I challenge you for the right to lead-" "Seriously?" Ian interrupted, incensed. "You're doing this now?" Turning to Scraps, he ordered, "Get rid of this clown." The revenant crossed the 20ft gap between them faster than the eye could follow and punched the creature that now out-massed him by a good three or four times. He hit at about chest height and no one expected it to be very effective given the size difference, so they were shocked when it knocked the werewolf back a good six feet, doubling him over. Before he could recover, Scraps was already there, wailing away at him without the slightest hint of form or technique; simply slugging him with machine-like persistence, shattering bones wherever his fists landed. The outmatched werewolf desperately tried to recover, lashing out with a claw to try and suspend the relentless onslaught. Large furrows opened up along the revenant's chest, shredding the dark tatters and patchwork flesh beneath. Scraps didn't appear to notice, continuing to pummel away until the weakened lupine figure was knocked down and forced to fight on his knees, then on his side, then not at all -his injuries shifting him back to human-form. The revenant's mangled chest knitted back together, the black cloth weaving closed the large rents. The shifters watched the display with shocked expressions, stunned by the brutality displayed by the tattered ragman that looked as if a strong gust of wind would blow him over. Ian hadn't watched the 'fight,' turning away after he'd given the order and kneeling next to the shaman, telling him what he was preserving and the damage he'd observed. Orlov also paid no heed to what was going on behind him. He pulled out an assortment of items. Breaking a stick of self-lighting incense, he began a hair-raising rhythmic chant, rocking back and forth. He took a vial of water and spritzed her face and then reached into his pouch. His hands came out wet with something that looked suspiciously like blood and began gliding over Kiara's inert form, hovering over the wound in her chest. Ian saw a soft glow emanating from the liquid. Reforming the heart took the most effort and Ian was humbled by the procedure, knowing he'd never be able to do something like that. It was an enlightening experience to work with another mage to revive someone. After he would heal an area, Ian would gradually let Orlov take more and more control of her vital systems. Kiara's father choked up as her wound closed and color began returning to her face. Her eyes blinked open and then widened as she recognized her father crouched over her. Ian turned away as they began sharing a tearful embrace and started walking in the direction he'd come from. The ring of ghosts vanished into the gloom and the bodies of the dead began following him like a procession. Scraps stopped battering the bloody body of the rebellious upstart and fell in beside him. The werewolves watched his retreating form fade away in silent awe, knowing this was a story they'd never tire of telling. Ian directed the zombies to cross into Delridge's territory, not wanting the bodies found on this side of the river. He then noticed a fire that was growing larger in the distance. Ian estimated that it was near where the main warehouse he'd stayed in was located and ordered Scraps to sprint back and help those in need. He made sure to hand Grim over to him so the Archive could direct his actions, still unsure of just how much free will and initiative the revenant could exercise. Path of the Necromancer Ch. 03 Ian blinked his eyes open and stretched as he awoke late on the afternoon of the day he'd been captured. He frowned as he heard Ember shouting from the living room of his apartment. 'Their' apartment, he corrected himself with a smile. Getting up and slipping on a pair of sweats, he made his way out of the bedroom. He chuckled at the sight that met him and leaned against the doorjamb with his arms crossed. Ember was standing in the middle of the living room with a controller in her hands yelling into her headset, "OWNED bitches! Your head was like splat. What's that? I can't hear your whining over the ass whooping you're getting..." He smiled as he saw her enjoying the shooting game they'd gotten for the console she'd forced him to buy during their little shopping spree the day before. "Fuck these noobs," another voice said. "Oh shit, watch me knife this sniper in the back." Ian wasn't surprised to see the revenant sitting on the couch holding the other controller. What did surprise him was Grim's voice coming from beneath the hood. When had he learned to do that? Just then, a knock on the door sounded and he moved to answer it. Opening the front door, he was surprised to see Val, red-faced and giddy with excitement. Her face flushed an even deeper shade of red as she caught sight of his shirtless, lightly toned body. Then whatever had her so energized must have overwhelmed her because, before he could ask what she was doing here and how she'd managed to arrive, she shouted delightedly, "We've got new sponsors!" and chucked something at him as she dashed past. Ian gave an amused snort and looked down at what she had tossed his way. His mouth dried up as he saw the engraved bull on the back of the car key. "Damn..." he muttered. "I'm going to have to ward the shit out of this one before I decide to risk parking it anywhere near the Industrial District." Val shivered in remembrance. "The drive over was pretty awesome," she commented. "Some dude actually came by the warehouse to drop it off and there were a bunch of papers we had to sign before taking it. He said something about it being one-of-a-kind and there was a lot of legal shit involved I couldn't follow." Ian hummed in response. As he was about to close the door, he recognized a spirit he was becoming quite familiar with waving to get his attention and pointing down the hallway. Her ghostly presence was the same one that had warned him back in his hometown that the Inquisition goons were coming. She was by far the most coherent and agreeable spirit he'd ever met and she'd taken to staying close to him. He sometimes wondered if she wasn't just an echo or shadow of something left behind, but a soul that had chosen to remain. Val glanced curiously his way as he continued to hold the door open. Finally, Ian called out in a loud voice, "You might as well come in. I'm not going to stand here forever..." Tentatively, a hooded figure moved from behind the corner of the hallway and walked towards him. He noted with a raised eyebrow that she carried a pretty impressive gear bag over her shoulder As she came into view, Val exclaimed, "It's you!" Ember glanced over and gave a neutral grunt before going back to her game. Grim on the other hand wanted to see who their cute visitor was and left the revenant to float over and get a better look. Her dirty blonde hair came out of her hood in spiky locks to cover her face and she pulled the sweatshirt she was wearing around her tighter in response to their scrutiny. "How'd you know I was there?" she asked Ian with a wary expression, ignoring Val's outburst. Ian chuckled. "It's hard to hide from the dead," he remarked furtively. He allowed the spirit of the young girl to appear beside her, making her jump in fright. "Y- you- you're a..." she sputtered nonsensically. Ian frowned and looked towards the others. "I thought she was at the clearing," he asked, confused." "She left before you lost it and raised an army of spirits," Ember commented without taking her eyes off the screen. "Way to keep a low profile, slick," Grim laughed. Ian made a face before figuring there was nothing for it now. Turning back to the newcomer and observing her closely, he said, "Let me guess, you're the Church-sanctioned assassin Ember told me about." Her eyes blazed as she retorted, "The Church has nothing to do with that!" Ember glanced over, surprised at the Demon Slayer's changed outlook. Val suddenly exclaimed, "You bitch! You followed me here, didn't you?" Dani looked a little abashed at that and muttered self-righteously, "I had questions that needed answering. When I found out the warlock- necromancer..." she corrected with a shudder, "wasn't at the complex and then saw you leaving, I decided to follow you." A small smile slid passed her mask. "You were pretty hard to lose. Where'd you learn to drive?" Val, incensed, made to rush her, but was stopped by a look from Ian. He sighed heavily and turned towards Dani with a sour gaze. As the girl squirmed under his attention, he finally said, "The problem is there's a tracking spell on you that almost certainly stopped transmitting when you came through my wards." The girl's eyes widened and she sputtered out, "T- that's not possible. How? Who?" Grim scoffed and said, "Who do you think, sunshine? Your esteemed order isn't about to just let you walk off after all they've invested so much into you." She shook her head furiously. "N- no way! There are no mages in the Church. There are priests that can heal and crusaders that receive other boons, but no one that can cast actual spells. There's just no..." Her breathing picked up and she heard Ember give a humorless snort. 'No,' she silently denied. The revelation hit her like a thunderbolt and she slowly sunk down onto a chair as her legs gave out. The 9th Order, sworn enemy of mages, actually used them to keep track of her. 'Those hypocritical sons of bitches,' she roared into the depths of her consciousness. She bowed her head and rested it in her hands as tears threatened to break out for what felt like the hundredth time since the night before. Everything she'd given over to the Order... All she'd done for them... So many lies and so many sins to atone for. Val saw the distressed girl, plagued by her own demons, and felt a tinge of sympathy. Dani's head shot up as she felt a slight tingle. "There," Ian responded to her curious look. "The tracking spell is removed. I doubt they can actually trace the exact route you took, but it would've looked suspicious if it stopped and then started transmitting again. At least this way it's conceivable that they might think you've died." She looked up at him astonished, wondering how he could have done it so quickly and why he would chose to help someone who, by all accounts, had nearly gotten him killed. He shrugged at her curious, conflicted expression and left her alone to her thoughts, dropping down on the couch next to Ember. From what he'd gathered from his lover's account and what he saw in the girl, he imagined she was at a crossroads in life (not too unlike how he'd felt quite recently), wondering what to do next. She didn't 'appear' to be a threat, so he figured her sticking around to do some soul searching wouldn't hurt anyone. Scraps, now himself, got up and walked over to the window to read. Val dropped into his vacant spot and began describing the events of last night since they'd parted from her perspective. This included a dramatic telling of Ember valiantly ferrying children wrapped in her wings past walls of flame that had even the coldhearted succubus with ice in her veins blushing like a schoolgirl on her prom night. Apparently there was quite the buzz in Central surrounding the feats they'd performed, particularly since everyone had considered their group weak and on borrowed time. There was a flood of new sponsors that, coupled with their cut of the payment from the jobs, would easily pay for a new, larger shelter to be built. Forrester and Bobby were also talking about new housing arrangements and weapons shipments. She cleared her throat. "Anyway, I didn't just come for a social call. There is a meeting in Central tonight that will include most of the main powers in Seattle. The factions that will be represented include all the gangs and the Were clan, as well as the Church and Inquisition in advising positions, with the crafting guilds observing. It's important that all the gangs are represented equally so the established etiquette is that two people are sent for each group: the leader and their chosen champion." "Until you came along," she continued, "we didn't have a proper champion and had to pretty much fold on all issues that were raised. Otherwise, another gang could've challenged us openly and we would have been taken over outright following a defeat." Ian interrupted, "I thought the whole point of me being over here was to keep a low profile. Won't people pay attention if I suddenly show up out of the blue to a major gathering like this?" She smiled at him. "After last night, people have already noticed you." She paused. "You made... quite an impression. I think the only thing we can do now is run with it. The Were haven't made it known that you're a necromancer, but if- when it comes out, we'll just have to bear the heat. You are our champion and Forrester will likely use that fact mercilessly to his advantage when voting on issues. Most will probably back off because you are an unknown, but there's a strong chance you'll be... tested." Ian shrugged, having no problem with anything she'd said so far. Her eyes widened. "Y- you'll actually fight for us?" she whispered. Ian smiled. "I've already fought for you," he reminded her. "This is just taking out the trash..." Val let loose a giddy squeal of delight that even managed to shock Dani from her ruminations and threw her arms around him in a viscous hug. She pulled back abruptly and shot Ember a guilty look. The demoness watched her hungrily with gleaming red eyes and licked her lips causing Val to blush furiously and look away. "I think we have time for an early meal before we leave. How would you girls like if I fixed so-" he started to say before Ember placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see her raise an eyebrow imperiously. "You're forgetting something," she remarked. His mouth fell open as he took in their company and small, devious grin formed on her face. She leaned forward and rasped, "Oh, you didn't think I'd let a few unexpected visitors stop me from receiving my daily dose of pleasure, did you?" He tried to sputter out a reply when Val stuttered nervously, "Th- that's okay. I can put together dinner while you... t- take care of her." Ian stared at her incredulously before turning his gaze to Dani. She seemed flustered that they'd even consider her and she muttered logically, "Well, she 'is' a sex demon. It's only natural, I suppose. I'll, uh, help with the food." Ember dragged a dazed Ian into the master bedroom amidst Grim's raucous laughter. She shoved Ian backwards atop the bed, not even bothering to close the door, and grabbed hold of the cuffs of his leggings. With one swift swish of fabric, Ian was suddenly naked and staring up at his lust-filled partner with wide eyes. "Holy shi-" he tried to say as Ember mounted his hips and began grinding her sex into his crotch, smashing her lips against his in a scorching kiss that seemed to suck the air out of his lungs. "Wh- what's gotten into you?" he panted around her mouth desperately. She moaned as she felt his hard cock spring up between her dampening thighs. With a practiced twitch of her hips she plunged down his meaty length and gasped. "I forgot to mention that just as I give off pheromones and make others horny, when some else's juices start flowing it acts like an aphrodisiac to me," she explained breathlessly. She giggled and leaned down, biting his neck and marking her conquest. "That little chica is sizzling hot. She's been practically bubbling in heat ever since she saw you. I can smell her yummy nectar from here..." He groaned helplessly as she bucked her hips, causing her spines to rub down the length of his prick, taking him on a ride of bliss and ecstasy. She took his hands in hers and cupped her tits, cooing in delight. He smiled and took over, squeezing and rubbing his thumbs along her succulent nipples that were standing at attention. As he glided his hands along her smooth curves, she purred appreciatively and her eyes glowed red as he stoked her fires. * * * * * It was extremely hard for Val to concentrate on cooking over Ember's loud cries of pleasure. Grim grumbled something about gags being cheap and Scraps turned up the volume on the TV show they were watching. The open door certainly wasn't helping things either and she constantly found herself sneaking glances towards the nimble couple. The flashes of skin and sinful shadows she caught put her imagination into overdrive as she fleshed out full scenes in her head. She heard a low chuckle from behind her and turned to see Dani staring at her with amusement as she fixed a salad. "Enjoying the show?" the Demon Slayer asked with an impish grin. Val blushed furiously and looked away. "What's it to you? Have you had so much sex that something like that doesn't at least attract your attention when it's bared in front of you so brazenly?" Dani smiled as the girl tried to cover her embarrassment. "Oh no, I'm most definitely inexperienced, but I grew up in a militaristic enclave that put the strictest nunnery to shame. What's your excuse?" As Val floundered to come up with a good response, they heard Ember shoot off like a rocket. She screamed as an especially powerful explosion rocked through her. The both of them flushed scarlet as Grim muttered, "For fucksake..." Soon after, they heard Ember laugh melodiously before picking Ian up and tossing him into the bathroom. She yelled after him, "Start the shower for me, babe!" His muffled cursing was cut off as the door slammed shut. Val shook her head disbelievingly and began draining water from the spaghetti she was preparing. When she looked up again, she squeaked in surprise to see a nude, raven-haired goddess striding towards her with an evil gleam in her eye. "Hey!" she shouted as Ember wrapped her arms around her and picked her up bodily, carrying her to the bedroom. "What do you think you're doing?" She saw they were heading towards the master bath and she panicked, squirming in the demon's solid grasp. "No!" she protested as Ember opened the door. "Stop. I can't! I'm a vi-" The door slammed shut again, leaving her alone with Ian. She unsuccessfully tried to turn the knob before collapsing to her knees as her heart began to beat a staccato against her chest. Ian turned his head from under the shower spray to see what all the commotion was about and said, "Oh, it's you." He stepped from the bath, moving to open the door with his power and stop Ember's games. "Sorry about that. She can get a little carried away sometimes." Val was on her knees, blocking the door, and he crouched down, brushing aside the hair that fell over her eyes as she bowed her head. "Hey, are you okay? That was too far. I'll talk to h-" Her lips suddenly touched his and he froze as she gave him a lingering kiss. She pulled away and blushed furiously. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I've just wanted to do that for awhile... I'll be going now." He stared at her as she tried to stand in the enclosed space without using his naked body to support her. Then he smiled as he remembered Ember's words and pulled her towards him for a kiss of his own. Her body jerked in surprise before melting against him. The heat of his lips seemed to travel through her body down to her toes, filling her with electric tingles. Her breath became ragged and she wove her fingers through his hair as he shifted and began kissing the crook of her neck, running his hands along her body. Val shivered at the sensations he was inducing and pulled away, feverishly shedding her clothes. Ian stepped back and drank in her naked flesh as it was revealed. She paused as she got down to her bra and panties and realized just how fast things were moving. Then she noticed his prick hardening in appreciation and she felt a surge of satisfaction. She whipped off her last vestiges of clothing, moving a hand to conceal her sex nervously. Ian's mouth watered as he witnessed the considerable bounce in her chest as her two glorious mounds were released from their confinement. He smiled at her encouragingly and extended a hand out to her, palm upwards. His approval shined like a lighthouse in the fog she was trying to navigate. Suddenly, all her worries and uneasiness washed away. He made her feel like she could compete with a succubus; that she was precious and beautiful and should be proud of her body. She boldly raised the hand she'd used to cover herself and grasped his fingers, allowing him to pull her into the running shower. The shiver that ran through her body as the droplets hit her was intensified a hundredfold when his mouth fell to her chest and took in a nipple, tenderly sucking on the supple morsel and circling it with his tongue. Her hand reached for his pulsing cock and grasped it tentatively, exploring the feel of it. He moaned blissfully as her fingers reached his tip and a grin spread across her face as she found his weak spot. He retaliated by dropping a hand to cup her neatly trimmed pussy, circling her love button with his thumb. Her hips began to move involuntarily, following his hand, and he grinned around a puffy nipple. She panted, rocking her hips as her legs squeezed together. It wasn't long before she began to shake and he clamped his thumb down atop her tiny nub. She twitched violently in response and he had to support her as she rode her release. All throughout the explosion that followed, she continued to jerk him frantically, wanting to reciprocate. He didn't hold back and chose to cum at relatively the same time. Val was wearing a dreamy, glazed expression as she watched in fascination the ropes of thick white liquid coating her stomach. She smiled, head in the clouds, and murmured, "It feels way better when someone else does it." He laughed at the adorable smile plastered on her face and kissed her heatedly. He moved her into the spray and she frowned up at him. "You didn't, um, 'enter' me... Is that because Em-" "Later," Ian reassured her. "I want to do it right. I just didn't want to, uh..." Now it was her turn to smile as she watched him blush. "It's okay," she said, giving a contented sigh as he wrapped his arms around her. "My hymen broke a long time ago." She giggled. "You didn't have to be so gentle." He growled as he cupped an ass cheek harshly, "I'll have to rectify that next time." She wiggled her tanned, plump ass eagerly at the prospect. Then he warned, "You ought to prepare yourself for Ember though. She'll almost certainly want a taste of what you have to offer and she isn't picky in how she gets it." Val froze as she considered the prospect of having sex with another woman. She tried to feel repulsed by the idea, but every time she imagined Ember striding towards her naked, she felt a wave of lust swat down any other emotion that tried to come to the forefront. She looked up at Ian and realized she wouldn't have even experienced this much if the demoness hadn't acted. She rested her head against his broad chest and murmured, "Maybe it'll be her who has to watch out for me..." * * * * * Once Ember had been satisfied that she would soon have another mouth to train, she exited the bedroom with a look of triumph, clapping her hands together at a job well done. "Am I the best fucking matchmaker ever, or what?" she announced. Path of the Necromancer Ch. 03 "Seriously?" Grim spouted incredulously. "You couldn't have been more direct if you'd physically taken his dick and shoved it into her snatch." Dani blushed at the image he conjured. Ember gave an airy wave and huffed, "That boy is so blind to what's in front of him, he'd of waited for her to make the first move. That sure as hell wasn't going to happen." She sighed insufferably. "I just couldn't let that young love go unrequited." Grim let out a disgusted snort. "Yeah, right," he scoffed. "You're a real humanitarian. I'm sure the idea of getting those sweet, fuckable lips between your own legs had nothing to do with it." Ember blushed and remarked, "I 'do' have needs. Why, a thousand years ago it was unheard of for a lonely, innocent succubus to travel around without her own harem." Her eyes sparkled at the thought and she rubbed her legs together. Dani also found herself imagining it -particularly what the effects of the pheromones she knew Ember released would have on a group of people in close quarters. 'Epic' wouldn't even begin to describe the intense orgies that would occur on a regular basis. A sigh of longing escaped her traitorous lips and she turned away blushing as the others looked at her. Grim turned back to Ember and accused, "'Innocent' and 'succubus' are two words that should never be used in the same sentence. You-" he paused as he saw a spirit float in front of him. 'How in the hell?' he thought to himself. Ian's wards kept out the press of the dead. There was always a chance if he was asleep and unwarded that they would try and possess him. Energy for them to use literally bled off the necromancer so it was dangerous to allow them close when he was so vulnerable. The only way for this spirit to have entered the apartment was for Ian to have allowed it through the wards. He concentrated on the ghostly presence and sensed curiosity from her as she vanished through the wall to observe what was going on in the shower. Grim hummed to himself as he felt how clear the emotions came through. Usually a spirit's thoughts and feelings were a jumbled mess that only gained a semblance of clarity when compelled to do something. This was one to watch. * * * * * They all sat down at the table like some dysfunctional family. The demon slayer passed the bowl of Caesar salad to the demoness. Scraps mixed the bolognaise sauce with the spaghetti even though he wasn't eating. Val sat next to Ian looking supremely satisfied as she ate her garlic bread. Hesitantly, Dani broke the silence by taking a deep breath and looking at Ember. "Sorry," she said. "For trying to kill you and all... And for getting your gang into trouble with that shot at the clearing." Ember inclined her head. "You'll have to apologize to the shifter you shot when you see her as well," she told Dani. "I wouldn't be honest if I didn't tell you about the smidgen of hope I'm holding out that she'll rip your head off afterwards." Dani paled and gulped, but nodded in acceptance. Then she froze. "It survived?!" she exclaimed in disbelief. 'That's impossible,' she thought to herself. 'The round was enchanted and I know it was a kill shot.' She glanced around the table in astonishment before her eyes came to rest on Ian. She released an involuntary shudder at the thought of his control over life and death. "She -not it," Ember corrected, glowering at her. Dani bowed her head shamefully. "Sorry," she repeated. "I've been trying to look at the order that took me in when I was eight -and everything they taught me- in a different light," she continued, gritting out her words as if they caused her pain. "It's just taking some... adjustment. I would appreciate anything you might be able to tell me about them that'll give me a clearer understanding of how they operate and allow me to atone for some of my sins." Val's respect for the shifty-looking sniper she'd chased down the night before rose at each statement that came out of her mouth. Then she heard her intentions and she felt pity. No one could take on the Church -even a depraved, warped subdivision of it. And to try to pull it off herself? Noble, but altogether foolish. Ember gave a derisive snort. "Bold words," she declared. "If you want my advice though, you should forget about your silly ideas of penance, take the freedom my lover has given you, and live your life. Nothing you can do will bring back the souls you've taken." Her gaze unfocused. "Believe me, I know." After a pause, the succubus admitted, "Still, there's something splendidly befitting that one of the Order's own embarks on a quest to topple the empire they've built." She released a heavy sigh and turned her crimson gaze on Dani. "The first thing you need to know about the esteemed 9th Order, holiest of holies, is that it's led by a warlock..." * * * * * Dani was sitting on the couch, shell-shocked in light of all she'd been told. The other five were just leaving the apartment to travel to the meeting that would be taking place in Central. "We should be back in a few hours," Ian told her. "Make yourself at home." Ember stopped in front of her on the way to the door and leaned down, a deadly serious look on her face. Dani stared up at her nervously and waited with bated breath. She heard, "If you steal the gaming console, I 'will' find you." The succubus straightened and left the room, leaving her to stare after her incredulously. The group took the elevator to the basement level and entered the garage. Ian missed the Lamborghini on his first sweep. It looked nothing like what he'd expected. When his eyes finally rested on it, he froze. Val giggled, "Nice, huh." Ember whistled and commented, "I didn't even know they made them with four doors." "They don't," Grim stated in awe. Ian continued to stare at the work of art as he circled it reverently. The crimson tail lights stood out starkly against the gunmetal gray as he reached the back and saw the word 'Estoque' above the license plate. "Damn," he muttered. "These guys know me entirely too well..." As Ember cleared her throat primly, he tossed her the keys, not even bothering to argue. He got in with the rest of them and told the giddy succubus, "Make her purr." * * * * * Ian and Ember sat next to Forrester in an enclosed room in downtown Seattle's undercity. The underground streets and caverns, found in every major metropolis, proved to be a mecca for the city's supernatural community. Everything one might conceivably imagine could be found in the bustling passageways forgotten from the public eye, from street stalls selling the meat of three-headed hellhounds to kiosks hawking talismans that could make the wearer levitate a few feet off the ground. The gang leaders and their champions all sat around a long table with Agents Morgan and Hunter at one end and a bishop and hooded inquisitor at the other. At the center of the table sat a man in a suit that represented the investors. He had come to learn his name was Solomon and that he would be presiding over the meeting. Ian noticed a set of mirrors situated around the room so the man could look into the face of everyone sitting around him. He wasn't a mage, but Ian had a feeling that he held the most power of anyone in the room. Behind the table, in a raised seating area, were the crafting guilds that represented Seattle's means of production where magical commodities were concerned. They were mostly human and came in a variety of shapes and sizes, but the only ones Ian recognized were the small hooded figures of the goblins or their attendants -he'd never figured out which. Looking around the room, he shot a goofy smile at the pink-haired banshee when he saw her seated next to a tall, imperious-looking oriental man and watched her roll her eyes and turn her head away. Solomon started the meeting off. "Before we begin," he told the gathering, "I believe Konstantin has something to say that affects us all." Kiara's father stood and announced, "The Council of Elders will hold a meeting in Seattle three days from now. Due to the disturbance this causes in Were politics and the preparations that need to be made, we'll be postponing the shipment of new goods out of this port until Thursday." A low rumble of surprise and anger went up from the assembled group as they received this bit of news. The leader and also acting champion of the Georgetown Syndicate -a cocky little punk with jet black hair and a nose-ring- complained in a whiny voice, "A week?! We might as well start FedExing shit." He smirked. "I'm sure they'd be happy to do business while you have your little get-together." Ashley glared at mage who ran Georgetown and Solomon delivered a sharp rebuke at the idea of revealing themselves to the general public, even in jest. The man then turned to Konstantin and said, "While young Lance here was out of line, the fact remains that while you shifters have a stranglehold on the transportation market, if you cannot meet our export demands, the products 'will' find other means out of the country." Solomon leaned back in his chair. "I understand there happens to be extraneous circumstances however. Please explain the reason this meeting is taking place, and specifically, here in our great city." The shifter did not look happy having to explain why the Were did anything, but he grimaced and reluctantly explained, "In light of... an event that occurred last night, the elders will meet to analyze the present situation here and pass judgment on what, if anything, is to be done about it." "Yes," the Inquisitor hissed. "I think we're all eager to know just what went down at the- last night," he corrected smoothly. Ember's mocking laughter filled the room and she told him, "Oh, we just caught one of your little pets trying to stir things up." The hooded man started at that. "Rest assured," she continued in a scathing tone, "we realize that your order is much too virtuous to have been involved in anything as gutless and cowardly as what went down last night." Even the bishop had a small smile tugging at his lips at that. "'Obviously' your little club was infiltrated by someone without your upstanding moral fiber. No worries, though," she continued, shooting him a chilling smile that seemed to lower the temperature in the room. "I made sure to teach her the error of her ways. She was quite tasty." Ember licked her lips in sadistic pleasure. The red-faced man exploded to his feet, his hand reaching inside his robes. Solomon's voice cut through the tension like a knife and warned, "You may not issue a challenge while in an advisory position." Ember's eyes twinkled in mirth as she blew the incensed Inquisitor a kiss. The representative of the 9th Order glared at Solomon and for a moment Ian thought he was going to attack anyway. Then he snarled and strode towards the exit, his black robes fluttering along behind him. The bishop wore a pleased little smile at the Inquisitor's flight. His attitude seemed to match what Dani had said about them being separate entities. Ian bumped Ember's shoulder slightly, shooting her an approving grin. She rolled her eyes and huffed indignantly, showing him that she couldn't care less if he supported her decision to help Dani out. She gritted her teeth in annoyance when she realized a small part of her relished the fact that she had made him proud of her. Konstantin watched the young necromancer with hooded eyes, the events of the last night replaying in his mind. The reason the elders would be meeting was that someone of influence in the pack had been killed by an outsider and there had been nothing done about it. It would have been perfectly acceptable for him to have killed the little snake, but for a rogue mage? The rest of the pack that hadn't been there was up in arms and were demanding blood. It would be up to him to convince them that such a course of action would be sheer folly. He was at this meeting alone. Normally he had his daughter with him, not as a champion (as any Were challenged so directly would feel a need to rip the throat out of their opponent themselves), but to learn the business she'd be inheriting. She was still recovering though, and while she could walk easily, he chose to wait for her to fully recuperate. It was not in their nature to show any sign of weakness. Having her stumble or wince even once in front of their enemies was not something that would help their image. Konstantin sighed. She didn't seem to be excited about what he was grooming her to be. She preferred to live near the university campus where she took business management courses than with the pack. She loved the sea, as they all did, but found the day-to-day running of a cargo vessel boring. At least she'd inherited her mother's intelligence. She was incredibly savvy when it came to negotiations. He just hoped she would grow out of this phase soon. The meeting resumed and Ian soon found himself bored as talks of trade agreements and political maneuvering commenced. Everything seemed to be about status. Every opportunity that could be taken to put someone else down and gain a superior position was taken. He released a yawn at precisely the same time as the pink-haired banshee and she blushed slightly. He smiled roguishly at her and she shot him a disgusted look before turning her head away. He chuckled to himself and went back to observing the other players. One pair that caught his eye was the champions of the group that ran Pioneer Square. Ian didn't know why their northern rivals were allowed two champions and two leaders, but their resemblance led him to believe they were a family and shared equal standing. The two girls that held enforcer status were older than him by a few years. They wore black leather, had matching neck and arm tattoos, and glared out at anybody and everybody. They looked as if they could break him in half without even trying. His smile turned slightly feral as they met his eyes. They seemed surprised and a tad uneasy when this nobody they clearly considered to be the demon's lapboy didn't break eye contact. Ian had to chuckle at the idea of a family-run gang, though he supposed it wasn't so different than the mafia. Their parents -the leaders of the blandly-named group: Kin- currently weren't doing so hot as they tried to defend themselves against the onslaught of accusations coming from the leader of the Heaven and Earth Society. Apparently they had previously agreed upon a set of arrangements and now the group out of Pioneer Square was having trouble meeting their end of the deal due to increased pressure from a new brood of vampires that had moved in. "Just a little more time," the father pleaded. He was a tall dark-skinned man with a Creole accent and showed none of the intimidation or menace that his daughters were giving off. "They sacked the waterfront storehouses, but we've got trucks en route from up the coast. You'll get what you ordered by the end of the week, I promise." A malicious smile stretched across the master of the Tiandihui Seattle branch and he asked with relish, already knowing the answer, "And what about the bottled Dragonfire? Surely you can deliver 'something' on time..." The Kin leader flinched and admitted, "The leeches have taken over our northeastern production facilities to make drugs for their nightclubs and feeding dens. It will just t- take some time to regain control." His wife winced at his words and he instantly knew it was the wrong thing to say. The atmosphere in the room changed and Ian thought of Val saying the gangs could scent blood in the water. At the group leader's admittance that they were being taken apart piecemeal, it wouldn't be long before the probing attacks along their border turned into full-on assaults. The leader of the Heaven and Earth Society had no intention of sharing the territory though, and he pressed, "You realize that if you aren't able to live up to your contract, I can choose my compensation 'and' I'll be able to challenge you?" The two daughters exploded. "Bring it the fuck on then!" one shouted as the other yelled, "We'll take that screaming bitch apart!" The boss of the International District continued to smile at their defeated-looking father and pointed out, his voice dripping with venom, "Ah, but if I ask for your ill-mannered daughters or your pretty little wife as payment, then who would there be to defend your district?" Agent Morgan spoke up, "There has to be a committee that decides if the compensation is fair." The accuser's face was the picture of innocence as he remarked, "Really? Millions of dollars in lost product or a couple of worthless whores... I think perhaps I should be asking for more." Ashley grimaced, but kept silent as the two 'whores' in question cussed out a storm. With all the muttering, shouting, and contemplation going on, Ian's words almost went unnoticed. "How much?" he asked, looking at the mother and addressing the group for the first time. Silence followed his question as people turned their attention towards him. All those who didn't know who he was had dismissed him as a pitiful excuse of a warlock when Ember had first spoken up. The story of his fight against the banshee had made the rounds and it was known that he simply shielded while the demoness was the real threat. Obviously, he must have somehow managed to summon a major entity and she only kept him around through some quirk in the contract they'd signed. Ian wasn't about to disabuse them of that notion. In a musical Louisiana French lilt her daughters had yet to inherit, the co-leader of the Kin stared back at him and asked, "What do you mean?" Ian waved a hand airily. "Well," he elaborated, "it seems to me as if you've got a slight vermin problem. You heard our furry little deliveryman, no shipments 'till next week." He ignored the growl that statement produced and rested a hand on Ember's shoulder. "Now see, I don't know about all of you, but I can't take seven whole days of attention from a bored, restless succubus. I need to take her out to for like, walks and stuff. And if she just so happens to walk into a den of vampires and rack up a bloodbath or two, well all the better." The woman that seemed to be the brains of their operation slowly asked disbelievingly, "You want to 'help' us?" She appeared to be doing the same thing the rest of the people around room were: trying to figure out what angle Ian was playing at. On the other hand, Ashley and Lily were looking at him with wide smiles and the bishop looked as if he'd just seen a cardinal walk out of a brothel. People in this line of work weren't decent or honest and they sure as hell didn't step in to grab a bucket when there was something to gain by watching a rival's house burn. "For a price," Ian clarified, trying to glare seriously. "I, uh, don't actually know what currency you all use so I'll let Forrester think of that. You just expect me tomorrow morning at that place that sells those awesome cookies and we'll go bust open some coffins." Ember groaned and turned towards her naïve lover. "You don't know a single thing about vampires, do you?" Still, she was smiling. The thought of going out and slaying a few bloodsuckers was her kind of a date. Even Solomon was looking at Ian confused. "Don't get me wrong here. The sponsors would love to have this problem resolved quickly as the disturbance is eating into our profit margins, but why risk your life to help them?" Ian shrugged. "What's life without a few risks?" he wondered aloud, thoroughly convincing the others that he was insane. "You've also got to look at the bigger picture. I'd rather give a little now and keep two small rivals than ignore the problem and end up with one big one." Those at the table shifted in realization. "Besides," Ian continued, "better the enemy you know than the one you don't." He paused. "Not that I know much about these folks, but I'm assuming that having vampires in control would be worse..." Path of the Necromancer Ch. 03 The Tiandihui master gritted out, "There won't be a vampire problem. I'll take care of them just as soon as their territory falls into my hands." He turned to Solomon. "Production will not suffer, I assure you." Ian examined his nails. "You seem mighty confident of that," he observed. "Hmm, northeast... That's right along the border of the International District, isn't it? Funny that you haven't mentioned having any problems with them, and now you're saying you can get rid of them at the drop of a hat? Well, that almost sounds like you had something to do with engineering this problem..." The master seemed to visibly withdraw at that, trying to distance himself from the issue as the other gangs perked up at the idea of foul play. Attacking one's enemies was all well and good. Sabotaging their shipments and then ransoming it back was frowned upon, but accepted. Deliberately destroying production lines and restructuring the established order to get a bigger piece of the pie at the sponsors' expense? That was a good way to get Central to declare open season on your ass and watch all the other gangs form a temporary truce, swarming together until you were dissolved. He glared at Ian and demanded, "Are you accusing me of something?" Ian grinned back unimpressed. "You gunna sic your pink butterfly on me if I am?" he drawled. Even Solomon cracked a grin at that, which he quickly hid as the Chinese master turned to him. "It doesn't matter," the leader declared. "I demand compensation and hereby issue a challenge." "Now hold on," Forrester said, holding a hand up with a crafty gleam in his eye. "They still have three days to deliver and Industrial can produce Dragonfire just fine." He turned to the woman leading the Kin and accepted her look of gratefulness with a nod. "I'm sure we'll be able to come to an arrangement." Ashley watched in awe as she saw Ian accomplish something that had never been done before among the gangs as far as she knew: collaboration. Solomon saw it too and let out a small savage smile. He'd been a key player in getting the sponsors to... overlook the fact that Ian was a necromancer. The seeds were now starting to sprout and he was proving to be a valuable asset. Competition was good for business, but not if they wanted to compete with the European leagues as a single entity. If they could actually join together and dominate the western market, they'd be the biggest trading enterprise in the world. Oh, yes, he thought. The winds were changing now. Master Long was ready to explode. He looked around feverishly as his carefully laid plans began disintegrating before him. How could they do this? Surely the others wouldn't stand for this... But as he observed those present, it became clear that they were all onboard. Not only was there a chance that Industrial would lose their champion in this venture, but it stopped him from becoming too powerful. He saw that little cunt beside him smirking as he suffered. He didn't care what her mother advised, she would be losing her cherry soon. Maybe he should have her challenge this young upstart, he thought. 'No, she's already lost to him once.' Finally, he decided to use his last resort and glanced across the table to the mage that ran the Georgetown Syndicate and jerked his head. He'd originally helped the little shit start his own group just so he could divide and conquer Industrial, but that didn't mean he wasn't still bought and paid for. Lance started in realization and a flicker of unease showed in his eyes as he faced an unknown enemy. Then confidence flooded his frame as he scoffed at the idea of someone his age being stronger than him. He sneered at Ian and mockingly said the formal words, "I hereby take offense at your accusation and challenge you to the death so as to settle my grievance." The room quieted down as they heard his words. Forrester muttered to Ian, "That's got to be the flimsiest challenge I've ever heard. You can probably just turn it down if you want with no penalty." Ian tilted his head and asked, "Do I get all of his stuff after I kill him?" The mage's face reddened and he shot to his feet. Forrester chuckled, "Aye, lad. We'll get back a good portion of Industrial with him gone." "Sweet," Ian remarked. Glancing at his challenger as if it was more of an afterthought, he answered, "Alright then. I accept. When and where?" Things happened quickly after that. Everyone got up and the room seemed to transform as the lights were turned up and the center of the wall on the opposite side of where the crafting guilds sat gaped open, revealing an honest-to-God coliseum submerged into the ground beyond about fifty meters in length, surrounded by bleachers. "Now," Solomon answered, smiling, "here. We used to do the whole at sunrise the next day thing, but we found there's much less chance of interference if we do it on the spot." Ian simply shrugged and got up. "Works for me," he said. As the occupants of the meeting room filed around the coliseum, a side door opened and admitted upwards of sixty people as the guards for those attending the meeting that had been waiting in the lobby were allowed to enter and watch. Ian spotted Scraps and Val walking towards him. "Just couldn't stay out of trouble, could you?" Grim's annoyed voice reached them from beneath the revenant's hood. "I know that fucking look. Those sisters look like the type to stick your dick in a meat grinder for fun and your first instinct is to get closer to them. It's a goddamn miracle you're still alive and I take all the credit for it." Val had a slightly worried expression on her face. "Lance is a lightning wizard. His strikes are incredibly powerful, but he has to create a static field and negatively charge electrons wherever the bolt is supposed to land, which means there's a window to dodge." Ian raised his eyebrows. "Well, he was part of our group for awhile," she mumbled. "He was an asshole. Still is, by all accounts. You make sure it's him that comes out extra crispy." With that, she grabbed hold of his head and kissed him soundly. Grim let out a groan. "Well, there's nothing quite like advertising your Achilles heel," he muttered darkly. Ember stretched leisurely. The energy in the room seemed to increase as the observers saw the confidence in the combatants, one party looking cocky and the other simply unworried. Ian told Scraps to stay in the stands and approached the edge of the arena with Ember. Lance frowned and said, "Only one champion may answer a challenge." Ian waved a hand dismissively as he dropped the twelve feet to the sandy floor, using his power to steady himself. He pointed out, "I read the rule book on the way over. Summoned companions, magical constructs, and illusions are all allowed." There was some muttering in the stands and finally Solomon nodded, allowing it. Master Long reached into an open brief case a henchman held for him. He turned and slipped a vial of glowing, electric blue liquid to the young wizard. Ember hissed angrily, "Demonbane. Burns like hell and would probably be enough to do in a lesser demon." Ian hummed curiously at the thought. "Who would've known you'd have your own kryptonite. Could be fun to use in the bedroom..." His light humor pulled her up short and she choked out a laugh, loosening up. "Oh you're so not getting any sleep tonight," she growled at him lustily, her eyes blazing. His eyes danced in the light of the magical torches floating overhead. "You were the one that wanted to use hot sauce to-" he started to say before he was cut off as Lance, who'd entered the arena with a bit more difficulty, shouted at him. "I see you've gotten pretty close to Bobby's stuck-up bitch of a sister," he taunted. "She always turned me down, but after I take control of the Night Watch that won't be much of a problem, will it?" "When Hell freezes over, you little shit!" Val retorted venomously from the edge of the raised tier made of black marble. Those in the stands chuckled at her words and the two Kin sisters took notice of the furious latina, shooting her appreciative glances. Ian yawned, ignoring the mage, and sat cross-legged in the sand, concentrating on shielding and waiting for things to start. Ember shifted to demon form and there were a few 'oohs' and 'aahs' from the crowd as they saw her long black wings splay out. Solomon walked up to a loud gong and, without any ceremony, hit it, starting the duel. Ian looked up to see a bolt of lightning streaking towards him. It crashed against his shield in a blinding white flash of energy, scouring the arena floor around him of sand. Electric aftershocks pulsed around the invisible barrier in the wake of its resistance. The observers appeared stunned to see Ian hadn't even tried to dodge and that he'd actually managed to take the brunt of the force and maintain his concentration. Pure energy versus maintaining a definitive cover would always favor the attacker. Of course, most of them didn't know that Ian was able to draw on more energy than that which resided inside himself. Then Lance was put on the defensive as Ember bombarded him with Hellfire, flying towards him while evading his bolts of lightning. Ian had to give him credit. While it looked as if he was simply missing his target, he was also directing where the succubus was going to be. Just as she neared, a bolt of lightning hit her from behind, launching her towards the mage in an uncontrolled tumble. Lance drew back his arm and chucked the vial straight into her... and watched it crash against the shield Ian had constructed for his companion. A murmur went through the crowd as they were impressed anew at what this 'warlock' could do. Lance had a split second to realize just how badly he'd miscalculated before a long, deadly claw ripped through his shield and opened up a long gash in his side as she flew past. He screamed in agony before shakily recovering and going on the offensive again. This time, Ember didn't even try to dodge as every bolt of energy fizzled on the shield Ian had created around her. He would have liked to say defeating the wizard was a challenge, but the rest of the match just went downhill from there for the outmatched opponent. Like most magicians, he only practiced the one type of magic he had an affinity for and was thus left helpless when it failed him. Towards the end, Ember actually started to draw it out, not wanting to end her fun too quickly. Some of the people in the stands got sick and left early. Ian knew she was making a statement that Forrester could build upon in his negotiations, but he also knew she was just as happy to make an enemy suffer than end it quickly. Finally, Ian got up and called out, " Alright. Quit playing with your food..." With a flick of his wrist, he lifted the unfortunate mage into the air. He had ignored Ian for the last few minutes as he struggled to stay alive, leaving him utterly defenseless towards a new kind of attack. A wildly flailing Lance plummeted to the arena floor in an uncontrolled fall. Before the hapless challenger could hit the ground, Ember combusted the air around the tumbling body and Lance exploded in gory bits and red mist. Ian put a hand on his stomach as some of the observers screamed. "Oh, that's nasty," he muttered. He was glad he'd still maintained his shield as it began raining chunks. Looking around, he commented to no one in particular, "Well that's one hell of a 'what if' for our potential enemies to worry about." He raised an arm skyward and Ember swooped down and plucked him from the arena floor, carrying him out of the fighting area. A short, stocky man who led one of the crafting guilds came up to Ian and congratulated him on his 'effective strategy.' "You two make quite a team," he continued. "I hope to see more of your work." With that, he walked off cheerfully as Ian stared at his back, unsure of how to feel about being complimented for such a grisly performance. Ember beamed and commented, "This is my kind of crowd." Ian gave a snort of amusement at that. Apparently his vocation of 'criminal' suited her tastes. He thought back to his trip through the underground market to get this place. He couldn't exactly say he didn't fit in with the city's alternative nightlife. He shrugged off his concern. When it came down to it, the underworld had accepted him when everyone else had started sharpening their stakes and pitchforks at the very mention of his kind. Solomon announced that the challenge had been answered and that the meeting was adjourned. People began a mass exodus at those words, casting wary glances back towards the bloodstained floor. Ashley came up to Ian and he fidgeted nervously when he saw her, knowing he hadn't left her on the best of terms and that she probably hated him. He was relieved to see her smiling as she congratulated him. She chuckled, "I don't think anyone noticed when you tinged her talons with Spiritfire to eat through his shield either." He raised his eyebrows in surprise and she felt a small thrill at impressing him. "I wanted to let you know that we just received confirmation that the Kin's trucks have entered the state, so your efforts here weren't all for naught. The FBI will be escorting the parts to the factories personally and making sure nothing happens to them during assembly. The finished product is a government order." She paused and Ian didn't press. Still, she felt she owed him something and admitted, "We're going to start mass producing the restraining collars..." Ian's eyes widened, but more from being taken aback that she'd tell him than anything else. She looked at him carefully. "You're not surprised?" she wondered. He shrugged. "They're effective tools. It would be a mistake not to." He grimaced and said, "If you'd all started out restraining necromancers who'd gone insane instead of killing them all outright in the first place, maybe I wouldn't have this kill order hanging over my head." She bowed her head at that and told him about the government's change in policy. Ian gritted his teeth and fought down a few scathing 'too little, too late' remarks. Finally, he recovered enough to ask in a relatively calm voice, "What about the vampires? Isn't it your job to make sure stuff like this doesn't happen?" She pursed her lips and shook her head. "We've been watching them," she admitted, "but we can't do anything until we have evidence of them feeding without the consent of the individual. It doesn't matter that their customers are addicted. Still, there is a report of a cop going missing around their neighborhood and we'd like to have some eyes in there. If you're going... I was wondering if you'd allow us to send along an observer." Ian didn't like the idea, especially since he still didn't trust the Inquisition by any means. Still, he and Grim had worked up a suitable workaround to the restraining collars and he'd been practicing keeping a shield up around himself at all times. The risk wasn't so great that he dismissed it outright. As he saw Ashley standing there biting her bottom lip in anticipation, azure blue hair framing her cute face, his reasoning jumped out the window. He snuck a glance at Ember and confirmed that she was just as eager to build a, uh, 'working' relationship with this woman. Shaking his head in amusement, he looked up and asked, "How about a trade." Ashley instantly looked wary and Ian continued in an attempt to reassure her, "There's someone I'd like to protect. She's likely being hunted at the moment and I think your compulsions would be a great help. Do you think you might be able to take a trip tonight to go see her?" Ashley stamped down on the flood of relief that rushed through her, willing herself to remember her training. His intentions 'sounded' noble and she admitted to herself that she 'wanted' Ian to be one of the good guys. Well, she amended with a glance towards the arena floor, at least not a power-hungry sadist who only looked out for himself. She sighed as she thought of all the department violations she'd be committing by going off alone with a dangerous person of interest. Then she remembered all the ones she was already violating by just talking to Ian. 'And he did say there was a life at stake,' she reminded herself. That was why she'd joined in the first place, not to play political games and keep her nose clean. The final point that convinced her was that if Ian had wanted her dead or in thrall to him, he could have done so when she'd been possessed by him that morning. She turned to Lily who'd been standing a ways away trying to look innocent; like she hadn't been paying attention to them. Ashley tossed her the keys and told her, "Take the car. I'll check in after I'm done and see you tomorrow." Lily looked unsure, but finally nodded and walked away. Forrester had left in a hurry once the duel had been completed, rushing to get someplace above ground with enough signal to make some calls. There was a lot of work to be done to start reintegrating the Georgetown businesses into Industrial and he had to work fast before Delridge or Beacon Hill could mobilize. On the way out, Ian stopped as he caught sight of one of the Kin sisters in front of him. Her leather vest revealed a considerable amount of cleavage, a black studded belt hung low on her waist, and her eyes were completely white. Suddenly, one of the nearby twenty foot columns of stone that held up the underground facility began to transform. Ian looked up into the imposing rock visage of an enormous golem crouching down to glare at him, one hand continuing to hold up the ceiling with an ease that would put Atlas to shame. "I don't know what game you're playing," the girl told him, "but it won't work. If you try to double-cross us tomorrow, I'll ground your bones into dust." Her mother called her reproachfully from a distance and the tough-as-nails she-bitch seemed to flinch in admonishment. She shot them a last glare, her eyes going back to their normal amber color, and stalked off. He looked up and saw the column was back to normal. Ashley chuckled and remarked, "The Castille women have always been a willful bunch, but those sisters are a real piece of work." "What are they?" Ian asked, eyes locked onto the retreating girl's leather-clad ass. Ashley smirked as she followed his gaze. "Animists. No one's quite sure how they make inanimate objects come alive. There's a lot of scholarship that says perhaps they use spirits like necromancers do, but..." she trailed off, not wanting to point out that they'd killed them all off before they could ask. Well, all of them but those of the main bloodlines and 'no one' was about to go knocking on their doors. Ian just shook his head, denying that theory. He hadn't sensed a thing that could be construed as spirit magic. Ashley shrugged and they continued their ascent to the surface. The small party walked through the underground streets and passed stalls and cracked storefronts, assaulted by the myriad of scents and sounds. Val reveled in it, loving the atmosphere, and Ember snaked an arm around the captivated girl's waist, hugging her to her as they walked. Ian stopped a few times as he heard things being called out, such as x-ray glasses, a potion to increase potency, and an invisibility choker. The group smiled at his curiosity and humored him, though it never turned out to be quite what he'd expected. They entered the parking garage and he grumbled, "Just what the hell is the point of having a vanishing necklace that leaves the wearer visible?" Ashley smiled at his antics and then let out a moan of appreciation as she caught sight of the Lamborghini. Her breathing picked up as she noticed they were heading towards it. Her head whipped back and forth between those she was with and the car as she desperately tried to will her hope into a reality. They paused in front of it and she threw her arms in the air and shouted, "Yes!" Path of the Necromancer Ch. 03 Once she'd calmed down, she pouted at them and muttered, "Must be nice to have the sponsors on your side. Still, this is insane. You've got to have a pretty powerful backer making you their sole interest." Val offered to sit on Ian's lap so they'd have room, but Scraps pointed out that he preferred to be outside the car to better assess the situation and guard his ward. He could easily keep pace with the car in the city and by jumping from the rooftops of buildings while wearing dark rags he was nearly invisible anyway. * * * * * Dani waited in the apartment as the light faded from the sky and the stars came out. She debated taking off, but thought it would be poor repayment for the help her hosts had given her. They would no doubt think she'd betrayed them and had run off to tell the Order about this location. She pursed her lips as she caught herself enjoying the luxurious feel of the fluffy couch. She chided herself for thinking about her own comfort. This was not a vacation, she reminded herself. Still, she'd been living a Spartan lifestyle for so long, anytime she was sent on a job she inevitably found herself enjoying the soft sheets in a wayward hotel room, or the bathtub. She eyed the whirlpool Jacuzzi in the master bath and sighed. Frustrated, she paced restlessly before eyeing the laptop on the coffee table. To her relief, it wasn't password protected and she killed time doing her own research on the 9th Order. She knew various locations that were owned by subsidiaries of the Church, but the more she learned, the more she realized just how out of her depth she was. It was staggering just how little she really knew about their operations. She'd had lessons on hacking as part of her infiltration studies and she put them to use in cracking some of their firewalls. Still, it became clear that they employed even better programmers and her efforts were often thwarted, leaving her with a lot of surface information, but few glimpses of what was really going on. Toppling this enormous empire would have to be done in multiple parts and looking for cracks in their armor was proving to be a challenge all by itself. She didn't want to try anything too risky as she didn't know how secure Ian's network was, so she made a list of the known locations that the Order operated out of and shifted her attention to learning more about the surrounding areas. Dani figured they would at least be someplace to start. Her eyes drooped the more notes she took and she was half asleep when the lock turned. Her head shot up and she saw them returning with a visitor in tow. She recognized the branch leader of the Inquisition from her briefings and her head bowed. 'So they sold me out,' she thought morosely. 'I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I certainly deserve it.' She sighed and waited, silently accepting whatever fate would befall her. Ashley frowned at the pitiful-looking girl sitting on the couch in front of her. As she approached her, she was shocked to feel the strongest mental barrier she'd ever experienced from a non-mage and knew she'd had extensive training to repel psychics. Dani felt her probe and clenched her eyes shut to stem the flow of tears. Then she forced herself to relax and opened herself completely. Ashley mentally stumbled into the other girl's consciousness as the resistance disappeared, similar to what she'd gone through when Ian had let her in. A wave of memories and experiences flooded her mind as the girl's life flashed before her eyes. She saw the demon kill her family as she watched, then mark her along her back, telling her to grow up big and strong so she'd taste sweeter. Tears trailed down Ashley's face as she fell to her knees, watching the child experience her first beating at the hands of the inquisitors. She pulled the girl towards her and hugged her fiercely, both of them crying as they relived Ben's death. The young agent, only a handful of years older than Dani, was floored by the amount of pain and suffering the girl was forced to experience in her short life. She brushed Dani's messy locks of hair as she choked out over and over, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..." Dani's shoulders shook and her face was burrowed in Ashley's chest, desperately holding onto the agent as if she was a lifeline. It was more than just therapeutic to share what happened to her with someone else and confront that which plagued her nightmares. This was the first time since her parents' death that she could really face what she'd experienced. Soon, she cried herself to sleep and Ashley pulled back sniffling, resting the girl's frame along the couch. She knew the Order would want to know what happened to her and understood Ian's request. Her respect for him rose considerably as she saw him want to help her even after her actions had nearly gotten him killed. She also realized Ember's words at the meeting were for Dani's benefit and that the 9th Order would probably take it as fact that their assassin was dead, although they would now shift their attention to trying to find Ian. She stroked the girl's dirty blonde hair and kissed her forehead. Bowing her head, she began placing ring after ring of protective spells on the girl. She repeated continuously in her mind, 'never to be found by those who would search her out, never to be recognized if seen, never to fear being hunted.' When she'd finished, she was stunned by the potency of the compulsions surrounding the girl. The clarity her purpose gave her and the cause she was doing this for allowed her to cast them with a strength and will beyond her years. Each time she came into contact with Ian, her powers grew exponentially at the impact the events had on her. Ashley also admitted to herself that the compulsions probably wouldn't have taken hold if the 9th had been looking for Dani in force. The bluff that they used that night must have been enough to turn their attention away from the girl. She rose and turned to Ian. "It's done," she said, her voice sounding alien even to her. He smiled at her gently and thanked her. Ian was moved by the comfort she'd offered Dani and the determination with which she'd set about her task. "You can stay the night if you want," he offered. She shook her head. "I've got to get back and check in with Lily." She paused before saying, "You have to possess me again." Ian froze and started to shake his head when she continued in a strong voice, "The director came by this morning. I was pumped for information and I was powerless to stop them." She looked up at him and her eyes flashed. "I will not allow this girl to come to harm. If they find out about her, I don't know what they would do. I can't risk that happening." Ian pursed his lips as he tried to think of another way. The spirit that had taken to following him around caught his attention and made a placating gesture, offering to take care of it. He frowned, knowing there were dangerous things in the spirit world as well. Wraiths that would try to eat your soul given the chance, Phantoms that haunted locations and would often simply try to kill you for interrupting the pattern they had set, and Ghouls that possessed the dead and fed on the living to gain energy... There was also a whole host of monsters he knew nothing about. Still, Ian had come to trust this spirit and he didn't feel any menace coming from her, only sorrow. The more he thought about her, the more he realized that she'd been with him since long before that night he'd been forced to flee his home -he actually couldn't remember a time since he'd discovered his power that she hadn't been nearby. He fed her a small amount of energy and told Ashley to drop her shields and mental barrier. Ashley worked to calm herself as she prepared to be assaulted by a horde of ravenous ghosts again. She sat in a chair at that dining table and clenched her fists, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth. Then, she forced herself to relax and let go, feeling naked as her protections crashed down around her. Surprise filtered through her as a single tendril of energy seemed to seep into her consciousness. It wasn't frenzied or violent like the others had been and it seemed to want to spare her any pain. Ashley didn't feel like she'd lost control so much as if she'd been placed in the co-pilots seat. Through each memory that was locked away, the spirit seemed to turn to her and ask for her permission to continue. The entire process almost felt relaxing. The spirit then shocked Ashley by creating a space inside her consciousness that seemed to ignore all the laws of Sorcery she'd been taught. It was as if her psychic ability was completely unable to focus on anything that went on inside the bubble. She watched as the spirit placed the location of the apartment inside the newly defined space and Ashley knew that even if she came to visit again or thought about the location while being scanned, someone reading her would be unable to see it. She opened her eyes as the spirit gently, almost reverently, backed out of her mind, returning the reins to her. She stared wonderingly at the ghost, still visible from the energy Ian was feeding her. She knew that if the League of Sorcery in Europe found out about this, necromancers would be vilified to an even further extent as they found themselves impotent against spirit magic in one of the primary ways that defined their craft. Ashley shook herself and stood. "I should go," she said. Ember surprised her by giving her a hug as she reached for her coat. "Come back soon," she heard before she jerked in surprise as the succubus pinched her ass. Val piped up, "I need to leave too." Ian asked, "You sure you don't want to stay?" She blushed before shaking her head. "Bobby is probably climbing the walls," she answered, "and the old man will need all the help he can get organizing the corporate takeovers. I'll give you a call tomorrow." She leaned against him and kissed him softly. Her heart fluttered as he made sure to leave her breathless. "I need to use your phone to call Bobby. I don't think the buses run this late." Ian chuckled and willed the key for the BMW off the countertop and handed them to her. "Enjoy," he told her, enjoying her stunned expression. "I can buy a phone for you as well if you'd like." Her brain finally started working again and she shook her head. "Patrol leaders used to be given burners, but Bobby says because of the money rolling in we'll all get personal ones soon." Her eyes tracked down to the key in her hand and she asked, "Are you sure?" Ian smiled down at her. "Ember and I don't need two cars. If for some reason that changes, I'm sure the sponsors would jump over themselves to provide another." He looked at the key and said, "It's already warded so don't feel pressured to watch where you park it." Val smiled at him brightly before turning and walking towards the door. She let out a squeak of surprise when Ember grabbed her possessively and kissed her soundly. Her tail formed and snuck between the girl's legs to rub her covered sex and give her something to think about. Then the succubus pulled back, her eyes gleaming red, and smacked Val's ass hard enough to send her stumbling towards the door. Val caught up to Ashley in the hallway and offered to drive her home so she didn't have to take a cab. The agent smiled gratefully down at the young gang member and asked her about herself. She learned that Val had just graduated high school. College had been a distant dream for her, but with the money they were now making Bobby was pressuring her to go. She thought that maybe she could take some business or accounting classes to help with the administrative needs of the Night Watch. Ashley found herself fascinated by the resilience the young girl showed and was surprised to realize that in the short time she'd known her she had started to consider her a friend. With a small smile, Ashley began placing her memories of their encounter and all they'd talked about in the space in her mind she'd come to treasure as her own. * * * * * The issue of sleeping arrangements filtered through Ian's mind. It didn't seem right that Dani should take the couch while he took the bed, but he had Ember to think about and their guest was currently passed out anyway. A stray thought entered his mind that involved Dani and Ember sleeping in the bed together and his brain promptly shorted out. Ember could apparently sense when he was thinking naughty thoughts and wrapped her arms around him, a hand snaking down to squeeze his crotch. "She's pretty," his lover commented as she observed the sleeping girl. She sighed. "It's too bad that she's been marked by a demon. Her spirit has healed considerably since the sorceress read her memories, but she still has a long way to go." Ian raised an eyebrow and commented with a sly grin, "A long way until she's better or before she's between your legs?" Ember's eyes twinkled as she replied, "What's the difference?" She grasped his hand and led him into the bedroom, their ever-present mystery spirit floating along behind them curiously. Grim seemed to seep back into his book and Scraps checked the locks. The wards around the apartment shone brightly to him in the spirit realm. Finally deciding the place was secure, he crouched with his back to a corner and sat back on his heels to quietly observe his surroundings, tireless and unmoving, always watchful. Ember stripped out of her clothes and then nearly ripped Ian's remaining garments to shreds when she decided he wasn't moving fast enough. She pushed Ian backwards onto the bed and dropped to her knees. Reaching out, she squeezed Ian's cock and he felt electricity shoot through his limbs as his member hardened in an instant. She smiled wickedly as she lowered her mouth. Her tongue seemed to wrap around his girth and the feeling of it grasping him as she bobbed her head a few times caused his mind to blank. When he came back to himself, Ember was straddling him atop the bed, his cock poised to enter her. He moaned and through his head back when she decided to rub his tip up and down her slit, teasing him to the point of insanity. Finally, when he could take no more, she plunged down his length. Her spines sought out his most sensitive regions and stimulated them. His breathing picked up as she ground her hips down, causing the most amount of friction and he gasped when she hit bottom. She chuckled at his desperate expression and she put a hand on his chest. "Go on, baby," she whispered. "I'll take care of it." Ian laughed softly as he gave up his hopeless effort to ward off the inevitable. The waves of pleasure she was inducing broke through the walls of his resistance and he felt himself swept away on an ocean of bliss. The walls of the bedroom turned a hellish red as Ember lived up to her name, the glowing light of her eyes reflecting the fire of her lust. She milked her lover's release, using her talents to extend his orgasm. Ian arched his back and clenched his fists before relaxing. This time he knew she wasn't going to stop as she picked up the pace, keeping him hard inside of her. He rested his hands on her creamy hips, knowing her soft skin and delicate frame hid a savage, deadly creature that he'd never be able to tame. He felt her need through their bond and tried to increase his own pace, driving into her harder, faster. She was a force of nature that didn't require any action on his part to get herself off, but he felt a strong desire to be the best lover he could for her. He knew she deserved at least that much. Ember smiled at the determined look on his face and reveled in the love she felt coming off him. It tasted strong and potent. Devotion in its truest form was something a sex demon almost never achieved. Being the objects of lust and desire, one rarely got passed their outer shell to recognize the being below the surface. It tended to make demons, and succubae in particular, jaded -her included. She thought she'd given up on finding someone she could spend the rest of eternity with. Tears filled her eyes as she shuddered through a small orgasm before resuming her pace. Ian saw the red glow become blurry and looked to see her eyes swimming with emotion. He didn't know what caused it, but he took one of her hands in his and brought it to his lips, brushing across her fingers tenderly, wanting to show her that no matter what she faced he would be there. Ember bowed her head as his dedication to her flooded her consciousness. Despite the darkness in her heart, the deaths she'd caused, the vicious, often sadistic, nature that sometimes came out, she truly believed he would always stand by her side. An explosion rocked through her, limbs locking at the charge that struck her like a thunderbolt, and this time it was her that blacked out. When she came to, she found herself lying atop Ian, wrapped in his arms. His mouth rested against her brow, breathing in her scent. She flushed with embarrassment at her display of weakness, but when she looked into his eyes there was no criticism, only pure adoration. It was an incredibly freeing experience for her to know that no matter how far she fell there would always be someone there to catch her. She relaxed and placed her head back on his chest, sighing in contentment. Ian closed his eyes and brushed her hair, feeling her breathing become steady as she fell asleep in his embrace. He smiled and knew that this feeling would never get old. His thoughts shifted to the changes he'd observed lately. He had noticed various improvements happening to his body the last few days, his muscles becoming more toned and defined, his stamina increasing, his vision becoming sharper. The pleasure he received from Ember never dulled though. If anything, it got even more potent. He guessed that the sexual energy Ember received which allowed her to retain her eternal youth was being shared through their bond. As sleep overtook him, he thought of the future. He didn't know what it would bring or if the risks he continued to take would catch up to him sooner rather than later, but he knew he wouldn't stop trying to live life to the fullest. His experiences would now always be shared with Ember and he was determined to make her time in the realm of the living as wondrous as possible. * * * * * Dani woke to a heavenly feeling. She was lying on the softest velvet and covered with a blanket that felt like it had a million thread count. Blinking open her eyes, she squinted against the light streaming in between the curtains of the living room and she shot upwards as she got her bearings and realized where she was. The events of the night before crashed down on her. She had no idea why she was still there. Glancing around the room, she gave a start as she saw the revenant crouching in the corner of the room, looking like the scariest gargoyle she'd ever seen. His hood hung low over his face and he held a stillness and patience that no human mind could achieve. Finally, she took account of herself as the blanket pooled in her lap. She was still dressed, but someone had taken off her boots. They'd arranged her so she wouldn't be stiff and even given her a pillow. She frowned. Barring waking up in a cell or not at all, she'd at least expected to have been violated. There was something wrong with a succubus, let alone a necromancer, with morals. Stretching, she went to use the guest bathroom, wondering about what Ian had planned for the day. Whatever it was, she was sure he'd need to eat first. She remembered the pancake mix that was in the cupboard and determined to try her hand at breakfast, despite her lack of experience. She hadn't cooked at all in the enclave and the flighty nature of her vocation afterwards hadn't led to a favorable environment to practice in. Path of the Necromancer Ch. 03 * * * * * Later that morning, Ian, Ember, Dani, and Scraps, holding a cheerful Grim, drove to Pioneer Square. Dani didn't know why she'd decided to tag along for a no doubt dangerous mission, but she knew she felt an even greater need to repay them after what she'd learned over breakfast. Just the memory of what had happened the night before brought tears to her eyes, but when they'd told her what the agent had done to help her and her vow to protect her; what she went through to keep her safe, what she risked... She had broken down crying on the spot. Ember had surprised the hell out of her when she wrapped her in her arms and comforted her. Looking out the window as the city passed by, she grimaced. They even liked her pancakes -Ian praising the meal like it was the sweetest ambrosia. She kept waiting for something to happen to shatter her view of them. Where were they hiding the decapitated bodies of children or the ravaged nuns-turned-sex slaves the Order always told them about? She sighed, knowing it would take some adjustment. Nevertheless, she wasn't one to mope around all day and hitting her wall against a wall trying to find out more about the 9th Order was what that equated to. Dani decided she had to do something and going along with Ian was as good as anything she could think of. She'd even realized as she checked her guns that she had craved a little danger and excitement; to feel the adrenaline rush that came with a difficult job. Ian was disappointed to learn that vampirism wasn't an undead condition (thus he couldn't control them as a necromancer), but more of a mutation which altered their genetics. It made them sensitive to light (though nowhere near enough to burn them to cinders), reliant on uninfected blood, and taking in excessive amounts of new blood tended to kill off the fluffy, puppy-loving, ethical portions of their brains. In return, of course, they got increased speed and strength, longer lives, the ability to see in the dark, and an unlimited supply of date-rape drugs flowing through their system. "Seriously?" he asked Grim after he'd finished giving them the low down on their prey. "They put a kill order on 'me,' but let these virtueless wonders run around free?" Ember pursed her lips and reminded him, "There are many vampires who feed only in moderation. They're as sane as you or I." Ian thought about that. "Then there should definitely be a kill order out on them," he finally concluded. A laugh burst forth from Dani and he was captivated by how innocent and free the young assassin sounded. He sighed. He was really beginning to dislike this order that would inflict young girls with what she'd been through. They got to the storefront and Ian put on a determined expression as he tried to weave a compulsion around the vehicle so that it wouldn't be towed for being parked along the busy street. A voice behind him called out, "Don't bother." He turned and saw one of the Castille sisters leaning against a building without any sign of how she got there. "We'll make sure no one touches it." Ian chuckled, "I hope so. Otherwise some poor meter maid is going to get the shock of their life." She frowned before asking, "Where do you want to start?" He pointed to the shop, already walking towards it, and said, "In there." The girl stared at him incredulously, wondering if he was screwing with her. She reminded herself of what she'd seen in the arena and forced herself to stay calm. Her sister was still canvassing a likely starting location for them anyway. They'd been watching the vampires for over a week now and knew they used the underground to access most of their territory. It was going to be a nightmare navigating their warren in the dark. Inside, Ian smiled as he saw Lily sitting at a corner table with a bag of cookies and a coffee. She returned his smile and waved as he walked by, blushing slightly as she remembered their encounter in his apartment. They sat down and started making plans for the assault. "First off, what's your name?" Ian asked the Kin enforcer. "What's it matter to you?" she retorted defensively. Ian's lips quirked up and chuckled, "Fine, be that way. But if I have to shout for you in the dark I'm going to call you the snookums." She growled threateningly at that, but decided that it did make sense to prepare for the worst. "It's Rosalie," she admitted gruffly, daring him to crack a smile. "And my sister is Evelina." Ian didn't disappoint her expectations as a wide grin formed. "Beautiful Rose and lovely Eve," he murmured as if tasting their names. Rose glared at him, trying to figure out why the biker bitch getup she was wearing didn't scare him off like all the others. She was about to make an issue out of it, but saw his goofy smile and head-in-the-clouds expression and knew it was pointless. This just confirmed her suspicions from the night before that he was insane. She sighed to herself and hoped he wouldn't die on them before they got rid of the vampires. "I think the main problem we need to address is manpower," Ian pointed out. The dark-skinned girl gave a snort of annoyance and rolled her eyes. "Obviously," she declared. Ian ignored her tone and continued, "What I meant is that if we start at one location and work our way through each room and level, those that make a run for it are simply going to run out of the other exits. Now, I don't see this as a major problem for getting rid of them in the long run as I'd already figured we'd need to do multiple purges, but what happens when a bunch of angry and scared vampires run out into the open? What's to stop them from just massacring people in the streets?" Lily smiled and told them, "The bureau knows we're about to poke a hornet's nest. They're standing by in case we need damage control. All it will take is one call from me confirming that they've committed a crime and we'll have this place flooded with my people." Their host did not like the idea of the Inquisition invading her territory, but she knew they didn't have the numbers to contain things if the leeches went berserk. "Speaking of which," Ian wondered, "why hasn't there been a single recorded violation on their part so far?" Rose grimaced and explained, "It's their leader, Cassandra Devereux. That soulless bitch makes Mary Tudor and Elizabeth Bathory look like innocent kittens in comparison. She also rules with an iron fist and any who cross her know their death will be painful and prolonged. She had enormous wealth before she was infected and she's used it to build quite an empire. I can't even guess what Long offered her to get her to agree to this." Ember smiled, showing off her fangs, and commented, "It's nice to know that his investment will be going to waste." * * * * * They reached the building amidst a small army of Kin members prepping for a raid. Rose's sister was waiting in a black Mercedes and Ian waved at her cheerfully as he walked by. She nearly spit out the coffee she was drinking as she saw him walk right up to the solid oak door of the place they were casing without a care in the world. 'He's not going to just- ah, hell,' she thought to herself. Ian put a hand on Scraps's shoulder and said, "Play time..." The revenant blurred forward and hit the entranceway shoulder-first, blowing through the door with ease and spraying wood fragments in all directions which Ian helpfully shielded those behind him from. Ian saw the receptionist immediately kick her sizeable desk in the air towards them and pull out a cutoff shotgun like she dealt with intruders every day. Unfortunately for her, she wasn't nearly prepared enough for Scraps, who hadn't stopped when he'd gone through the door, to suddenly appear before her and punch through her neck. Quiet fell over them as the vampire's body collapsed to the floor, her tainted blood dripping from the flesh golem's hand. Then a horrible buzzing, scraping, crunching sound filled the air as the building came alive. "Incoming!" Grim shouted. From the far ends of the two adjoining hallways came a rush of vampires crawling on the floor, walls, and even upside-down along the ceiling, moving with frightening speed, their limbs seeming to defy the limits of a human's biology. Scraps and Ember took the lead while Ian plucked those from the ceiling and willed them into the thresher the pair was creating. The Kin opened fire from behind the trio. Most of their shots were ignored however and Rose shouted, "Aim for their heads." One of the sisters had animated the receptionist's desk and turned it into a lanky wooden monster that drove the stakes it had for arms through vampires like some kind of grotesque shish kebob. Then they heard a scream from behind them and looked back just in time to see one of the Kin members plucked from his feet and dragged towards the door as vampires flooded the entranceway. Dani calmly raised her Beretta and shot the head of the vampire that held one of the gunmen and the group shifted to form a circle as the bloodsuckers hit them from three separate angles. Those in front slammed into the shield Ian had created and he winced at the effort of keeping them back took. 'These fuckers are strong,' he thought. Ember cleared away their pressure by unleashing a wave of Hellfire down the nearest hallway which seemed to spook the rest of them as they abruptly began to retreat. Those Kin who'd followed them were breathing hard. Lily went around checking wounds, occasionally slapping a hand on a cut received from shrapnel and muttering a chant to heal the wound or dull the pain. She got to the man who'd been grabbed and applied herbs to the rents in his shoulder. She looked to Rose and said, "He's safe from infection, but he's done for the day." The champion nodded her head, expecting the answer, and had him carried out to one of the cars. She shot a grateful look at Lily, finding it useful to have a healer along. The rest of the building which appeared to have offices in the upper levels and bedrooms in the lower ones only turned up five more vampires. They reached the basement level and were met with a large hole in the concrete that led... somewhere. "Wow," Grim commented. "That's pretty ominous. I'm glad I don't have to worry about dying or anything." Ian sighed and told the group, "Stay close." Turning to Ember, he warned, "No large combustions or waves of fire while we're underground." He then made his shield visible for all to see and stretched it to cover those behind and in front of him. Its light cast their surroundings in an eerie green hue causing the people with him to flinch in surprise. Flames of Hellfire surrounded Ember's hand as she led the way while Scraps took up the rear. They heard skittering coming from the darkness and the sound of nails on concrete caused shivers to run down their spines. Every once and awhile they'd catch glimpses of movement at the limit of their vision before fading into the murkiness beyond. The vampires seemed to avoid the light, but they clearly weren't happy that the invaders were there. The party continued until they reached a crossroads. As if a switch and been flipped, as soon as they stepped into the center of four crisscrossing tunnels they came again. They charged from all directions, including the one they'd just come from and staccato bursts of gunfire hammered the air around them. Ian had to not only concentrate on allowing those things inside the barrier to get out, but he had to strengthen all sides of equally since he didn't know from where the pressure would come from. Inevitably, the horde of bloodthirsty predators reached the shield and slammed against it. Ian felt what Ashley must have at the FBI branch headquarters when she'd tried to protect herself against the countless ravenous ghosts reaching towards her. Ian dropped to his knees and gritted his teeth under the onslaught. Most of the Kin had run their clips out at that point and were furiously reloading with shaking fingers. Lily touched Ian's shoulder and whispered, "I think it's time for you to stop pretending." She knew the Seattle players weren't who Ian would have to worry about now. It was the European leagues who'd established the decree that would come for him next. Rose threw her an incredulous glance, amazed that Ian hadn't collapsed yet. Her words seemed to relax Ian though, and when he next opened his eyes they were blazing green. Ian reached out for the spirits around him and found a host of waiting volunteers. They'd been dragged down to these caverns and killed in large numbers. In some cases they'd been kidnapped from the streets and taken unwillingly. In others, they'd paid to come and be fed on before their used husks were tossed in a twisted pile of corpses. All wanted vengeance. They came when he called. They eagerly took the energy he offered. The mass of vampires suddenly found themselves looking into the ghostly eyes of their victims and their small, degraded animal brains registered fear. The Kin were shocked as they saw a wave of ghosts explode outwards and crash into the suddenly outnumbered vampires. Their fury made the ghosts even more frenzied and some of the attackers were stopped in midair, their limbs ripped from their sockets. A terrible, inhuman screeching noise went up and the vampires again began to retreat, but this time they were followed. Ghosts began possessing the dead vampires or, in some cases their old bodies, and took the fight to the enemy. Grim chuckled into the silence that followed, penetrated by distant screams, "Vampire zombies... What a concept." The two sisters were gaping like a pair of fish as they tried to make sense of what they'd just seen. "Don't strain those limited brain cells of yours," the Archive commented, "we still haven't reached their lair." The snide remark seemed to shock them out of their trance. Ian saw a familiar spirit waving towards him in the distance and he began walking down the corridor towards her. Rose's sister had a conflicted expression on her face and he called back, "Fight or flight, Eve. Decision time. I'll have to escort you guys to the surface if you want to call it quits." Slowly, she shook her head and started to follow him. It registered that he'd called her by a nickname and she glared at her sister who was trying to look innocent. The others followed him warily, shooting uneasy glances at his back. The decrees of the authorities didn't mean much to them and they wouldn't have followed them given their present situation anyway, but it was still quite a shock for them to see a necromancer in person knowing how rare they were in the world's present climate. Most of them finally decided to simply appreciate the fact that he was on their side and began looking outward for new threats. It took close to twenty minutes to reach the deepest depths of the labyrinth, during which there seemed to be an attack waiting for them around each and every turn. Each time they killed, the bodies were resurrected and began staggering along behind them. They soon found the ground littered with corpses that had been cut to pieces to stop the ghosts from reviving them. Most of the spirits that had used up their energy had crossed over, sated with the vengeance they'd caused. Others gathered around Ian as he channeled more energy to them. They entered a clearing and looked up to see a honeycomb of tunnel openings. Ian had to crane his head to see all of the tiers upon tiers of rock formations on which countless ranks of vampires stood waiting. In the center of the pack in front of them a girl with flawless skin that looked to be about Ian's age stood out. Her incredibly beautiful face, framed by long, snow-white hair, was marred by the cold, furious expression she was wearing. Ian and company reached the center of the large underground room and realized the full scope of what faced them. Grim broke the silence with, "That is one scary ass bitch." Her lips pulled back, revealing a set of fangs that gleamed in the light of Ian's shield. They retracted and she walked to the edge of the tier she was standing on, stating in a malevolent voice that rang in their ears as it reverberated around the chamber, "What is a son of Erebus doing in my realm?" Ember flinched as she said the name and the Kin held their weapons tighter at the force of her words. She smiled as her chilling gaze locked onto Ian's. "Ah, a mere stripling," she concluded in a haunting tone. "No matter. I sense in you power enough to meet my requirements. Yeesss. You will become my magnum opus. An undead mage, rooted in the spirit world. You shall be mine and serve me throughout eternity." She raised her arms in triumph and from her wrist hung a gleaming talisman that made his skin crawl. "As a lich, you'll command an unstoppable army I will use to secure my position here in the city, and then the world. Come, my sweet. Submit to your fate!" A fireball streaked out of Ember's hand as she shouted, "Like hell, you fucking parasite!" The onlookers watched in amazement as the ball of Hellfire exploded in front of the white-haired vampire queen, the flames dying away against a pure ethereal blue shield. "Ah shit," Grim remarked. "Vampire mage..." Almost as one, the ranks of vampires surrounding them crouched and then jumped high in the air. Hundreds of flying superhuman bodies came crashing down atop Ian's shield, causing it to flare green. The Kin opened fire, Scraps rushed the leader, Ember ignored Ian's warning and started an inferno of flame, and the two Castille sisters summoned two enormous rock golems the size of a Mack truck that wandered outside of the failing shield and began smashing their way through the mayhem. The army of ghosts and possessed cadavers under his control began moving forward in a massive assault of their own against the enemy lines. The vampires surprised them by retaliating with weapons of their own. A minigun began firing from the third tier and mowed down the lines of the dead as they crossed the protection of the barrier. Dani, who'd managed to assemble her sniper rifle without anyone taking notice, sent a round through the head of the vampire controlling it before looking around for new targets. She found one when an honest-to-God rocket materialized out of the mass of feral attackers to hit one of the rock golems, blowing roughly a third of it to dust and knocking the surrounding figures to the ground. Eve gritted her teeth and concentrated on reforming her minion. Then it happened. Cassandra, who'd blasted Scraps through four layers of rock, hammered Ian's flagging shield with her own force of will, shattering the construct. Kin soldiers began dying as they all scrambled to get behind the cover of the rock golems. Lily, who'd been waiting for such an occasion, finished her spell and shot an orb of light into the air, shining brighter than the Sun. The denizens of the dark screamed in surprise and anger, momentarily blinded. The pressure of their assault was relieved as all the vampires were suddenly put on the defensive. All of them except their leader... She blasted them with her power, actually succeeding in picking up one of the golems and tossing him backwards, cracking his frame. Ian stepped forward and shot a jet of Spiritfire at her. It stopped against her shield and seemed to take forever to burn through it. She flashed forward, covering the distance between them in the blink of an eye. A broadsword the length of her leg and twice the width suddenly materialized in her hand and she thrust it at Ian. He barely had time to register its presence before he knew it was too late. He winced backwards before it stopped centimeters from his chest. There in front of him stood Ember in full demon form grasping the blade with her bare hand. The two seemed to blink forward at the same time and the room exploded in a series of aftershocks that resulted whenever the two connected. Path of the Necromancer Ch. 03 Finally, an explosion of white light and an angry glow of Hellfire flashed and when next Ian looked up, Ember was falling with the white-haired vampire standing atop her, sword poised for the killing blow. Then a black-clad figure materialized behind her, having jumped the thirty feet into the air, and hit her from behind, knocking the sword out of her hand. Scraps slammed them both to the ground in front of Ian, his arm around her neck in a chokehold. Even as he held her down however, the flesh and rags around his arm seemed to disintegrate as Cassandra's power burned through him faster than he could regenerate. The sword tumbled through the air and Ian used his will to direct it into his raised hand. He lunged forward with it, impaling the vampire queen through her chest. Her body jerked as she released a silent scream that seemed to collapse the ranks of vampires around her as those that remained fled through the various tunnels. The gunfire died down and many of the Kin seemed to go into shock after what they'd just experienced. The Castille sisters collapsed to their knees in utter exhaustion as their creations crumbled to dust. Lily began doing triage and Scraps dusted himself off as he finished regenerating a new limb. Dani calmly broke down her rifle and began cleaning it. Ember blinked open her eyes to feel her head resting on Ian's lap. She was back in human form and he was looking down at her with a haunted expression which told her how worried he'd been when he'd seen her fall. She sighed and punched him in the gut. Amidst his gasping, she rolled her eyes and told him, "Quit looking at me like I'm some defenseless kitten. It'll take more than some leech with a god complex to take me out." He chuckled at the tough exterior she wore like a coat of armor and brushed her hair. Leaning down, he kissed her softly. She accepted it for a few moments before shoving him back, having had enough of his mushy ministrations. Smiling, he stood and took account of the situation and was surprised to find the spirit that had led them there kneeling before him with her head bowed. She communicated to him in the vague flurry of images and thoughts that spirits tended to use when interacting with the living that she'd directed the dead to harry the prey and had cut off most of their escape routes. The main body of the fleeing vampires now congregated in an abandoned ten story hotel and she recommended that be their route out of the warren. Ian shook his head in amazement at the thought of her being sufficiently strong and retaining enough of herself to actually command the dead and get them to listen to her. He now knew without a doubt that she was more than just a lost echo; energy left behind from her soul's departure. He sent her feelings of gratefulness, admiration, and approval and felt pride shine from the spirit. He noticed the others were crowding around the body of the late Cassandra Devereux, sword still imbedded in her chest. She looked... peaceful in death. Her magic still pulsed through her, keeping her limbs from freezing up in rigor mortis. Ian picked up the talisman she had around her wrist and almost dropped it as he realized it reeked of spirit magic. Examining it with his spirit vision, it looked to him like it was on fire and it seemed to draw those nearby ghosts like moths to the flame. He felt the runes and took it apart inside his mind to try and figure out how it worked. His eyes widened when he found its purpose. Had she used this on his dying body it would have captured his soul and kept it bound to his flesh for as long as the talisman survived. The main clincher was that he would have been forced to serve whoever possessed the rod. He grimaced as he decided to destroy it. It was obviously an ancient artifact, but anything that bound souls against their will for an eternity was something he couldn't accept. To him, it was no different than the device the warlock had used in his first encounter with the Night Watch. He paused as he saw the tension in the incorporeal bodies of the ghosts around the clearing. Their eyes were locked onto the rod in his hand in unbridled hunger. He realized that with this device, he could give them life, albeit one of eternal servitude. He looked at the spirit that had always been at his side and felt an incredible sadness emerging from her. Slowly, she shook her head. Through a series of impressions she sent him, she told him that it wasn't worth it. The talisman was a sham that only gave the illusion of freedom. It was Spirit Magic warped for nefarious purposes that would only taint the user with visions of power and greed. She directed a crystal clear thought at him, 'Do it.' Spiritfire consumed the talisman, burning through the runes and enchantments. Using his will, he snapped the now-useless rod in two and tossed the pieces onto the ground. A wail of loss and outrage went up from the surrounding ghosts and they surged forward, hammering against the shield he'd casted anew in anger, startling those of the living who warily glanced around at the intangible attackers. He raised a hand and banished them. Looking back towards the spirit, who he realized had never taken the power he'd offered to manifest herself, he felt sorrow, but also acceptance. Even though she felt the sense of loss from never experiencing the warm glow of the Sun again, the ever-present fear of being eaten by one of the many predators that resided in the spirit realm, the eternal loneliness of always being alone, the longing to do all the things she'd observed by following Ian around... she accepted that it wasn't to be. He didn't. Ian approached the body of Cassandra and gripped the hilt of the sword. Pressing a foot against her chest, he wrenched the blade free and slammed it into the ground. "Start healing the wound," he directed Lily, setting about replicating the process he'd learned from observing the talisman. Lily frowned at him. "But she's already de-" she started to say before being cut off. "Just do it," he growled out, continuing to set up his preparations. Grim approached hesitantly and warned him, "This hasn't been done by a necromancer since the Egyptian pharaohs. Even those necromancers belonging to families that can still trace their roots back to that age wouldn't try this. If I had to guess, that talisman was probably first created as a tool for them to use without risking their lives." Ian shrugged off the advice and Ember squeezed his shoulder, not knowing why he felt he had to do this, but throwing her support behind his decision. When he'd formed the structure in his mind minus the compulsions that forced the bound soul to serve, he began drawing energy. There wasn't enough energy for him to tap in his general vicinity, but the spirit world worked differently than theirs. He extended his senses outward, channeling the energy that was suddenly available to him. Looking at the world from the plane of the dead, Seattle shone like a beacon of light as massive amounts of energy was shared over a large area. He didn't know it, but every necromancer and being that was connected with the spirit realm to some degree felt his spell being cast. Grim's voice cut through the haze as he got drunk off the power he had at his finger tips, his entire body bathed in green light, "Now, you have to bind her with your blood. Mark the body with an ankh." Ian held out a hand, palm upwards, and Ember pricked his finger with one of her talons. He crouched down beside the undamaged corpse and the top of her buttoned shirt flared open. He drew the key of eternal life and rebirth in the center of her chest, slightly above her exposed breasts. He then slammed his hand down atop the symbol and its outline flared green. The entire body jerked from the force of the magic coursing through it, scaring the shit out of those observing the process. The spirit watched in awe. When Ian finally turned his gaze to her she exuded disbelief, then apprehension, and finally acceptance and eternal gratitude. She walked towards the body and appeared to dissolve into smoke the closer she got, slowly letting the spell act on her. When finally she'd transferred herself, a brilliant green flash lit the chamber and the body gasped for air, fangs shooting out and her eyes opening wide, revealing pure black orbs of obsidian. Then she collapsed backwards, Ian catching her before her head could hit the ground, and fell into unconsciousness as her soul acclimated to her new body. The light died down and Lily shot another orb into the air for them to see by. They all looked at the newly-birthed lich, stunned by what they'd seen take place. Ember helped her tired and jittery lover to his feet, shooting him a reassuring smile he seemed to draw strength from. Finally, Rose broke the stunned silence by ordering her men to add the sleeping girl to the numbers they were already carrying on collapsible litters. They got back into a loose formation and Ember led the party through the tunnels. Ian told her where the spirit- lich, he corrected himself, had told him the remaining vampires were holding out and they prepared for yet another engagement. * * * * * Mei stood in the abandoned hotel lobby with a frustrated expression on her face. She'd been ordered by Master Long to stop the efforts of the Night Watch and save his precious plan at all costs. The problem in carrying out his orders had been obvious from the start. While they were technically allied with the vampires, that wouldn't save them if they were caught in an exposed position. Thus, there was no way in hell they were going down in the tunnel systems. There was then no way they could track the Night Watch once they'd discovered they'd already infiltrated one of the locations. They'd driven all over the district to each of the known vampire haunts to try and catch them, but all they saw were fleeing bloodsuckers. The Honorable Master had also given them the unreasonable task of doing all this without being noticed by the gangs (the Kin being on a high alert made this especially difficult), and adding to his implication to the plot. Eventually they'd noticed that most of the locations had been abandoned and they were shocked by the speed in which those underground were clearing the leeches. Finally, they'd arrived at this hotel just in time to see hordes of the biters bolting through the lobby to the upper floors. Now she stood with her men, wondering just what the hell she was supposed to do. She wasn't about to leave the biggest congregation of bloodsuckers they'd found, but it wasn't like she could stay with them and seek out the Night Watch at the same time. Then she heard a new noise coming from the stairs and she realized she didn't have to. * * * * * The group had finally reached the exit the vampires had fled out of. They'd been firing at the backs of the enemy almost nonstop, though actual resistance was rare. Ian noticed the ghosts that had been harrying the mob were unable to possess live vampires as an all-consuming fear blocked out their thought processes to any form of outside manipulation. Over half the group was out of ammo by that time and when he reached the top of the stairs that led out of the kitchens he turned to tell the Kin soldiers to carry the wounded out the doors of the hotel and they would take it from there. A blast of compressed sound slammed into his shield and he was thrown forward into those coming up the stairs. Two dozen gunmen from the Heaven and Earth Society opened fire on the small passageway, pinning them down while the banshee's attacks destroyed the walls around them. A rock golem tried to make it through the onslaught of bullets and was hit by a high pitched burst from the banshee, shattering the construct. Suddenly, Mei caught sight of a black-clad figure streak through the opening and hit the lights overhead, casting the area into darkness. They'd had to switch the breaker on their way in and that had been their only source of illumination. The fire died down as they lost their line of sight. Then the screaming started as flashes of gunfire on both sides revealed eerie, hellish tableaus of death and destruction. There was a black-winged monster with a huge wingspan flying above their heads while green flames rose at their feet and a hooded figure seemed to blink from person to person, leaving mangled bodies in his wake. Mei and a handful of men began retreating up the stairs to the upper levels, trying to gain some distance while they fired behind them. The screams of the men below died down and then they heard the ominous creak of footsteps coming after them. The body of the man they'd left to cover the stairs suddenly flew over their heads and slammed into the wall in front of them. That spooked them into a full-on run and they scrambled up the old, crumbling steps. On the next level, one of the gunmen fell through the floor as the rotting boards gave way under his weight. As they looked back at him, they heard a scrambling, skittering sound that made the hair on the backs of their necks stand up and the muffled scream of another one of the men with her started up as he was snatched by a passing vampire. Mei gritted her teeth and felt a sense of hopelessness well up inside of her as she reached another level. To survive without killing the Night Watch's champion would be considered a failure. She knew what would happen if she returned empty-handed and she knew it was impossible to run. She screamed out a frustrated note which thundered along the hallway, clearing it of any of the hidden crawlers. However, when she turned a corner she found the stairs to the next level were gone, and the vampires were creeping in. * * * * * Ian told the others to get out of there and began organizing the dead soldiers into zombie fireteams. They beat a hasty retreat as the dead charged up the steps. They were a block away when they stopped at a vacant construction site, having reached the limit of Ian's ability to keep track of them and control their actions directly. In his mind's eye, he saw his undead contingent clear level after level. He directed their fire and manipulated their movements like a puppet master of the damned. Every time one of his cadavers had their strings cut he replaced it with a fallen vampire. The slow march continued until they reached a hallway swarming with crawlers. At the far end, he could see the pink-haired Tiandihui enforcer on her knees, keeping back the press of biters through a series of weak gasps of energy that wouldn't have been called deadly by any measure of consideration. His army jerked forward and began shooting the vampires or just tearing into them in a grisly display of teeth and nails. On and on they pushed until the resistance fell away as the vampires retreated to the upper levels, easily bypassing the nonexistent set of stairs. The banshee was on her hands and knees, looking frail and on the brink of exhaustion. Her pink hair covered her face and her hands clenched as the dead came closer. Ian saw her through the spirit world and shuddered at the black chain of thorns he saw wrapped around her. It was a strong binding that must have been placed on her when she was an infant. The more she disobeyed the orders given to her by her masters, the more she would feel invisible thorns digging into her. If this was how their esteemed society chose to ensure compliance, he was going to have words with whoever ran it. He spoke through one of the corpses in a dry, cracked voice, "I think you'd better come with me." A choked rasp came from her as she tried to laugh and ended up with a hacking cough. "Just my luck," she made out. "A fucking necromancer... You had us all fooled, didn't you." Tears pooled in her eyes and she whispered, "Sorry, mom. I know you stayed because of me. I couldn't get us out after all..." Ian's eyes widened as he realized she wasn't going to give up. He sent a minion lunging forward to hold her down. Suddenly, the banshee threw her head back and released a long, titanic shriek with everything she had left. The zombies were blown backwards down the hallway, every window on that particular floor was blown out, and the walls crumbled. Mei's head lulled and her drained body fell forward. There was a horrible creaking sound and a block away Ian's body, which had been in a restful, trance-like state, abruptly shot up, his arm extended towards the hotel. Even from a block away they could hear the metal beams groaning as the supports on the floor the banshee was on gave out and the upper floors came crashing down, flattening the level she was on instantly as well as the two below hers. Ian fell to his knees and felt as if he'd pulled something inside of him. He rasped, "Go." Scraps exploded into movement, jumping off the construction platform and dashing towards the ruined building. Ignoring the few vampires that managed to scramble out of the collapsed structure, the revenant powered through the rubble towards where he saw a fiery circle in his spirit vision that called to him like a beacon. Bashing the three ton metal beam in his way once, twice, three times before getting through and finding the hollow created when Ian had shielded the unconscious girl, he pulled her body out of the wreckage and carried her back to the waiting group. As Scraps laid down his charge at their feet, Lily let out a curse and began treating her injuries. Eve frowned and questioned, "Why? She tried to kill us. She'll do it again, given the chance." Ian, resting against Ember as he tried to get his breath back, choked out, "Look beneath the surface." The sisters glanced at each other, then stretched their senses to examine the banshee. They missed it at first it was so ingrained in her. Lily found it first and gasped when she saw the magic hooks that seemed to be imbedded in her. He sighed wearily and knelt down beside the pink-haired girl. He shielded her like he had Bobby and used Spiritfire to burn away the thorns. It was a painfully slow process and he managed to nick his patient a few times, requiring Lily to smooth over the damage. It didn't help things any that his concentration was shot, but eventually he was satisfied that she was free of the compulsion that kept her from leaving and disobeying. By that time, they could hear sirens in the distance. Lily gave a final shudder at the thought of what she'd seen. "I'll need to tell the bureau about this. We might be able to bring Long up on charges for immoral use of magic and slavery, but I don't know how much will be done about it given his status in the city." Ian stared coldly out at nothing and said in a low, frigid voice that caused a shiver to run down her spine, "You let me worry about him." A small smile formed on Ember's face as she got a charge out of the darkness she saw rise to the surface in her lover's heart. They arranged another stretcher and gathered their things as they started descending the bare infrastructure and raised earthworks to get back down to the street level. Ian led the way out. Just as he turned a corner onto the main level, a voice rang out, "Freeze, police!" He stopped in his tracks and used his will to push back those behind them, stopping them from revealing themselves. He heard, "This is a restricted area." Ignoring the obvious statement, he slowly turned towards the voice, saying, "Your guys' response time is getting better." When the lone figure was revealed, he cracked a grin as she lowered her gun, an expression of stunned recognition on her face. "Nice to see you again, Officer Flores." She put her gun back in its holster and grumbled, It's 'detective' now... and this happens to be the last location a cop was seen before he went missing." She frowned, "What are you doing here and don't give me any shit about not seeing the signs." Path of the Necromancer Ch. 03 "Signs?" Ian asked in wide-eyed innocence, grinning wider. Sarah looked skyward and cursed the heavens for what she had to endure sometimes. Then a concerned look crossed her face and she asked, "You're not squatting here, are you -living on the streets because you're on the run?" A muffled laugh came from Lily around the corner at that. Luckily, Sarah didn't appear to notice and Ian slowly shook his head, amused at the direction the conversation was going in. She pursed her lips and glanced towards the street as patrol cars flashed past on the way to the less-than-structurally-safe hotel. "You know I'm going to have to take you in for questioning... again." Her eyes narrowed and she accused, "And don't think I don't know you had something to do with that loud noise earlier and what's been going on in this neighborhood." Ian smiled at the way her face scrunched up when she got angry and walked towards her. As he left with her, he used his will to brush Ember's hair affectionately. Ian held out his wrists to Sarah when they reached the car and she rolled her eyes. "Just get in," she muttered, indicating the passenger seat. "Maybe you can make some sense of all this." Sarah observed the boy who'd plagued her dreams these past few weeks. She hadn't known if he was still alive or what had happened to him. The things she'd seen and heard that night had changed her path in life. Then, of course, she'd joined the special task force her chief had organized. She gave a snort of annoyance. Three people a task force did not make. He'd assured her that he'd just started recruiting, but she could tell they'd be stretched tight for awhile -not to mention suffering an extreme lack of funding and resources. He'd essentially put them in the basement of the precinct that was packed with boxes of suspicious reports, most of which were copies of ones the FBI had come in and ordered burned -not shredded, but actually, physically incinerated. She'd spent all of last night skimming through them. The more she read, the more uneasy she felt, convinced that there some seriously strange things going on. They arrived at the precinct and Ian saw she had her own parking space. Walking through the station lobby, she got nods of greeting and he didn't see any signs of the usual hazing he would have expected shown towards a newbie. He whistled in appreciation. "This is definitely a step up from your last post," he remarked, looking around at the busy office setting. She gave a snort and they rode the elevator down to her 'office.' "Still think it's glamorous?" she asked as the doors opened and she moved a stack of boxes resting on a dolly out of the way. Ian had a coughing fit as a plume of dust was kicked up by the action and he stated, "Ah, I see. They stuck you in a completely separate unit. I had wondered about that..." As he took a seat across from her as she took the one behind her desk, he commented, "It didn't look like the others were giving you a hard time. I had this image of the regular members of the force discriminating against the 'weirdos' that try to put a face on what lurks in the dark." She laughed sardonically. "Oh, they probably would if they actually knew what my work involved. As it is, there are lots of instances of undercover duties that no one knows anything about. I think most of them think I'm acting as a liaison for another department related to drugs or immigration." Ian nodded, relaxing in the chair. He was still coming off the emotional rollercoaster the day had been. He knew Ember would make sure the wounded got taken care of and she had the car keys so she wasn't stuck there. "So what exactly is your job?" he asked as he grabbed one of the folders spread out atop her desk at random and began paging through it. "To look at issues that seem too outrageous for the normal detectives to take seriously. To observe and make sense of a given situation before reporting back to my superior so we're not caught with our pants down," she recited drolly. Ian nodded, his head swimming with images of her with her pants down. "Or those issues that the Inquisition covers up, leaving you guys in the dark..." he added with a chuckle. She nodded in agreement. "There is that," she admitted. Her eyes narrowed. "That's the nickname for the FBI among those who know what's up, right?" He shrugged. "Almost," he corrected. "The FBI are just cops like those upstairs." He grinned. "The Inquisition is you with more manpower, better resources, and the ear of those politicians in the highest offices." Her eyes widened at the picture he'd painted. She was beginning to understand her boss's worries about them being outmatched and why he only wanted them to observe instead of act. She sighed and looked out at where someone with a sense of humor had put in a window that looked out at the brick wall it was framed in. Finally, she said, "There's something wrong with this city." He burst out laughing and she glared at him before shaking her head as he grabbed his sides. "No shit," he managed to gasp, dabbing wetness from his eyes. He smiled at her indulgently. "I know the feeling... It's as if everyone that's part of this world knows what's going on and no one bothered to tell the rest of us." She nodded her head ardently, glad to have found someone that understood. He looked around the room at the other two vacant desks. "So how did you guys get roped into this gig?" Sarah described the interview process and the chief's need to get eyes on what was happening in the city. By the end of her story, she realized that she'd done all the talking so far when she'd actually brought him in to ask questions of him. 'Oh yeah,' she berated herself. 'That's one hell of a detective you're turning out to be.' Ian nodded at what she'd told him, impressed at her boss's initiative. "Seems like he's at least making an effort to follow the rules," he commented. "What do you mean?" Sarah wondered, leaning forward. He leaned his head back and thought. Finally seeing no reason to hold back, he explained, "Apparently, you can only be told about this stuff once you've experienced a supernatural event. It makes sense that you don't have a big force down here. He can't just pick any cop -they have to have already seen something strange, survived it, and then have the will to learn more and put their lives on the line in the face of something they know nothing about. She stayed silent as she thought about what he'd told her. It made sense. Her eyes widened and she murmured, "That's why..." Her face flushed and she admitted, "I kind of got your friend involved in this." She bowed her head at the sharp look he gave her. "Rachel, she... helped me keep my head after that night. I was going crazy trying to figure out what happened and she was the one who told me I needed a change of scenery and gave me the idea of being a detective." His eyes were locked onto her and she squirmed under his scrutiny. 'Damnit,' she chided herself. 'I'm supposed to be the one putting him in the hot seat.' She took a deep breath and continued, "Well, just look at this office. There has got to be tens of thousands of unfiled documents lying around. We also need someone to take calls because we normally turn our phones off whenever we're scouting. I asked the chief why we couldn't get a secretary to organize this stuff and he said they wouldn't have clearance to know what's in the files. That they would have to be in the know..." Ian had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Rachel had been telling me that she wanted to find work or an internship someplace for the summer and I sort of... pushed to get her a job here," she explained. Sarah looked miserable and couldn't meet his eyes, knowing from how the girl talked about him that they must have been pretty close. "I'm sorry. It's just that she was all for it and the chief was ecstatic to essentially have a new recruit..." He groaned and covered his face. As she made to apologize again for putting his friend in danger, he held up a hand. "I don't blame you. When she takes an interest in something she's like a force of nature. You wouldn't have been able to stop her." He sighed before looking up. "Tell me she's at least getting paid for this," he questioned, knowing how companies liked to take advantage of kids trying to beef up their resumes. Sarah nodded her head vigorously, explaining that it was actually quite a lot for a receptionist. "She starts next week, actually. I believe she's still looking for an apartment. So am I, as a matter of fact, since the temporary housing the department put me up in is kicking me out next week after I get my first paycheck. We were discussing splitting the rent for one. It would have to be somewhere over in the university district since she won't be living on campus and it's only about 5-10min. from here." Ian shook his head and let out a soft chuckle at how close the two had become since he'd last seen them. He grabbed her pen and pad and scribbled down the information of his apartment complex. He handed her the note and said, "I believe they still have a couple of openings." He grinned. "They're also putting in a pool to appeal to a younger crowd so that's a plus." She smiled gratefully. Most of the apartments in a large university district usually started booking over a year in advance and the competition for most places was murder. He finished reading the report in his hand and tossed it onto the desk. "Werewolf," he announced with a yawn. She'd raised her mug of bitter coffee to her lips and choked as she heard the word. Sarah looked from the report he'd been skimming to his bored expression and back. She leaned back and had a surreal moment as she considered it. Over and over while reading the reports she'd understood something abnormal was going on, but she'd never actually put a name to it. She had even been skeptical about her chief's brief introduction to the city's ruling class. Finally, she shook her head and asked, "How can you tell?" "The coroner couldn't figure out how a rapid dog or wolf managed to bite the top of his shoulder when the blood-spatter and footprints before he was dragged clearly showed he was standing with his back straight when the puncture wounds occurred," he explained. "Werewolves are about nine feet tall when they shift." She just stared at him openmouthed before shaking herself and scrambling to open other report. "What caused this one?" He glanced at the puncture wounds in the photo. "Don't suppose you believe in vampires?" he asked her with a grin. Her eyes widened and she wondered if she was going crazy. She picked up another folder. "And this?" she asked excitedly. Reading the report, he realized it described a number of bodies found along the riverbank near Delridge. He tilted his head and looked up at her, eyes softening. "Me," he told her quietly. They stayed like that for a long moment, staring at each other as her mind seemed to rebel against her. Then the door opened and a heavyset man with balding hair entered the office and froze when he saw Ian. "Fuck," he muttered disbelievingly. He turned to Sarah and yelled, voice bordering on hysteria, "You did NOT just bring the Inquisition's number one most wanted fugitive into my precinct!" "H-hey, chief," Sarah said, a bit apprehensively. "Nice to see you too." "Don't 'hey' me!" the man exclaimed furiously. He lit a cigarette, which told Ian he didn't care much for policy regulations, and waved a hand. "I told you, watch, gather information, don't get involved." The man pointed a pudgy finger in Ian's direction. "He attacked their goddamn branch headquarters yesterday and you brought him here? Are you trying to start a war?!" Ian frowned. "I resent that," he argued. "I 'escaped' from their branch headquarters. Any damage caused to the building or agents therein was strictly their fault." The two stared at him incredulously. "Besides," he continued, polishing his nails on his coat, "they removed me from the unofficial wanted list afterwards." Ian held open his phone showing their website. "See?" The lit cigarette fell from the chief's open mouth. "You've gotta be shittin' me..." He started pacing and ranting about all the injustices that were occurring in his fine city. Sarah watched for a bit and thought about writing down some choice phrases before picking up another folder and poking Ian in the ribs. "What about this one?" she whispered. The chief finally cooled down and glanced over to see Sarah had divided the files atop her desk into three piles and was separating them into known causes of death and those that required more information. Ian noticed after awhile the chief pulled up a chair and began listening as he explained what he knew. Ian just shook his head at the situation. These guys were barely keeping their heads above water and if someone didn't set them straight their ignorance was going to get people killed, themselves included. The sponsors wouldn't stand for anyone trying to destabilize the system and he knew the Inquisition would side with them. By the time it got dark, they had only gotten through a fraction of the material they possessed, but at least Sarah felt she understood the situation better and could keep herself afloat. The chief in particular was curious about getting his hands on some enchanted bullets. They'd need every edge they could eke out if they wanted to survive. They finally called it a night and Sarah grabbed her coat to walk Ian out. She offered him a ride as they exited the building, but he turned her down. She was surprised to then see the most gorgeous woman she'd ever laid eyes on push off one of the sweetest cars she'd ever seen from across the street and walk up to Ian, grabbing his coat and kissing him hard. She stared openmouthed as his hand snaked down and caressed her hip before hugging her to him and palming her ass. As they walked off, he called back to her, "Come by the apartment sometime to check out if it's your thing." In the car, Ember smiled at him as she made an illegal U-turn and floored the car past the police station, watching the pretty detective in the rearview mirror. "You set 'em up and I'll knock 'em down," she murmured. He laughed. Life was good. * * * * * In Anhui province in eastern China, Supreme Master Han sat with the twelve clan leaders in the Tiandihui longhouse near the top of Mount Tianzhu (meaning Heaven's Pillar). Honorable Master Chou was trying to defend the actions of his student, Honorable Master Long, from the accusations of the ambitious Honorable Master Feng. "He continues to say the same thing," Feng grumbled in disgust. "Always progress. Never a problem. Everything is in hand. With all the progress he claims to make, it is small wonder he has not conquered whole country... Yet their exports still rise!" "We never sent him there to take over," Chou reminded them, "only to cause chaos, which he's certainly done. Their groups are still warring with each other." That caused some mutters around the gathering as the others took sides. Han silenced the argument by raising his hand. "I agree that it is unreasonable to rely on such a young and inexperienced master to deliver us our primary rival in the Pacific. I also believe he exaggerates his success and we cannot count on his estimates. In light of what the mystics observed regarding the enormous power drain, I think it wise to act quickly while we still understand the situation and before the environment has time to change. I will now call on a vote to move up the date of the invasion." The vote was unanimous as all twelve leaders pledged mages to fill the ranks of the invasion force. "It is decided," Han declared. "We must now decide on our method of travel. We cannot rely on the shifters to take the army by sea and they will not allow us to use their ports. Travel by air is also out of the question as we would be exposed to the American aeromancers." "Why should we be limited to using clandestine means?" the newest clan member asked the masters. "We have the largest military in the world. It is time to throw off the Western yoke! We have been exploited by their magicians ever since the European 'missionaries' came to our country by the Silk Road." He turned to the others and spoke fervently, "We are now stronger than we've ever been before. The European leagues no longer rule us. We should not be forced to follow their mandates. I say we shou-" His voice suddenly cut off as the Supreme Master had enough of his opinions and lack of respect. The human lungs are roughly 90% water and it was a simple matter for Han to freeze them solid with his aquatic affinity. The clan leader died slowly and painfully, twitching on the bamboo mat. "Does anyone else have any similar notions of turning every magical community in the world against us?" Master Han asked the group. Master Chou waved a hand absently. "No one wants the necromancers to return. He was a fool that took control of his clan by default. His sister will be a better ruler in his stead and we will be stronger for it." Master Feng frowned and pointed out, "A woman may not represent her clan in the sacred ceremonies. She will have to be married before she is allowed talk in the assembly." Han grimaced, "Is that rule still on the books?" He sighed. "Some traditions never made much sense." Master Chou, getting back on track, said, "I think it's obvious the only way to pull off this invasion with any degree of success and gain a foothold in the US is by way of portals." "The wards around their country are much too strong for that," one of the masters protested. "And what is this talk about a foothold? I thought we were only trying knockout Seattle. If we try and take over the fighting would no doubt bleed over to the general populations. No one wins if we set off a nuclear war." Master Chou held out a placating hand and explained, "I'm not advocating a full occupation, but if we don't create a dominating sphere of influence there like we've done in LA and Portland and the Russians have done in Vancouver, they will just build anew. Once we entrench ourselves in their society, running American businesses as fronts for our own operations, we become legitimate entities that they would have to break their own laws to remove." Heads began to nod around the seating area and the electricity in the air increased as he continued, "As for the portals. You are correct if we try to create one from here to there directly. Their structure would break up as they crossed the wards. However..." he began drawing what he had in mind. He'd spent many hours with the mystics as they described to him how they saw the cosmos. "That's impossible," one of the onlookers exclaimed. "There are only three planes of existence: the divine, the physical, and the spiritual." Master Chou shrugged. "The mystics seem to have a different opinion. It seems there are supposedly hundreds. There are old texts of ancient civilizations using them to travel around the world before deep-sea vessels were developed." "How does this help us bypass the wards?" Han questioned. Chou shrugged. "How are demons summoned from their plane into ours inside of the wards we establish? How do spirits manifest themselves inside of our barriers? It appears the laws that are true here aren't the same elsewhere. Only a few planes have been found to be habitable for us, and of them, the mystics have located two that overlap our plane in North America. One is relatively close to Seattle at roughly a six hour drive." Han sat back and thought. "Have you tested this?" he finally asked. Chou bowed his head and said, "With your permission, Supreme Master. I have an arcane wizard standing by that has been briefed by the mystics on the process. He can leave as soon as you order it."