The Necromancer's Betrayal (The Final Formula Series, Book 2.5) (7 page)

His hands slid up her back, pulling her closer. She felt the bite of claws through her sweatshirt and gasped against his lips.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“No, I like it.” The admission slipped out before she really thought it through. It surprised her to realize she spoke the truth.

His lips curled. “Twisted necromancer.”

“Yes.” She returned her lips to his, feeding more of her soul into him. The joy of freeing her magic left her light-headed with pleasure.

He trapped her lower lip between his teeth, and she felt their unnatural sharpness, the canines longer, more animal-like.

She slipped her hands beneath the hem of his shirt, running her palms up over the solid expanse of his stomach. The move pulled another growl from him, this one louder and more menacing.

“Scary,” she whispered.

“Do I frighten you?” Earnest green eyes bored into her own.

“Yes, but not for the reason you think.”

“I want to bite you just to taste your blood.” He watched her as he spoke, gauging her reaction.

She shivered. “See, that turns me on.”

“Me, too.” He took her mouth again. “It’s our magic,” he continued a few minutes later. “It’s so… compatible.”

“I’m aware.” So powerfully aware.

“And you’re hurting,” he whispered. His lips trailed along her cheek to her temple. A chaste kiss, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. “Why not lose yourself to the magic?”

Yes, why not? So what if every other necro saw him as little more than a corpse. She knew the man beneath the call of his death. But that didn’t make this right.

She tipped her head up and kissed the underside of his jaw, then rested her head against his shoulder. “I’m using you.”

“Perhaps, but you’re not the only one at fault. I knew and still played along.”

But he had put a stop to it before they took it too far. She leaned back to look him in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

“No hard feelings.” He held her gaze a moment then pushed himself to his feet. “But be warned, one of these days I’m going to stop sabotaging myself.”

She smiled at his candor. “Warning received.”

He nodded and headed for the door. “If you’ll allow me, I’d like to go for a run.”

“On four legs?”

He stopped at the door and his gaze met hers. His eyes still glowed. “I don’t feel when I’m the hound.”

Her heart felt too big for her chest. “You may.”

He nodded and left the room.

“Hades’s blood,” she whispered and collapsed against the couch.

Chapter
8

J
ames closed the door behind him. And forced himself to walk away. That certainly hadn’t gone as planned, but he had Elysia’s permission to shift forms. He had been afraid to go on his own for fear she would sense something and call him back, perhaps forbidding him to change again. Hopefully, she would think he was out running when he vanished into the land of the dead. He had to get to Addie and see if she could free him. What he wanted to do after that was what worried him.

He raked a hand through his hair. It would be insane to return to Elysia after he escaped. Yet her predicament stirred his protective instincts. And it didn’t help that her magic was rapidly becoming an addiction. The thought of drinking her blood should disgust him, yet it did the opposite. Dear God, his body still hummed from those few drops he had lapped from her finger. And he wanted to do so much more than just lick her finger.

He turned down the hall to his room—determined to change there and spare his clothes—and came face to face with Doug. James skidded to a halt.

“What are you doing out alone, dead man?” Doug closed the distance between them. “Where’s Elysia?”

James lifted his lips, but stopped the snarl that wanted to escape.

“Answer.” Doug’s power slammed into him.

“The den,” James said between clenched teeth.

Doug continued to look him over. “You will answer when I ask a question.”

James flinched with another slap of his power.

“Are you fucking her?”

“No.”

Doug smiled. “Do you want to?”

James fisted his hands. “That would be wrong.”

Doug lifted a brow. “Impressive dodge, now answer the question.”

“Yes.”

Doug laughed. “Unrequited love. How sad.”

“Hardly. We just met. She’s attractive. I speculate you would also want to fuck an attractive woman you just met.” If Doug wanted to be crude, James could play that game. He had been raised by masters.

Doug grunted. “Good point, though I’m wondering… can you?”

“The only thing I lack is a heartbeat.”

“And a soul.”

James let the hound rise to the surface.

“What are you doing, dead man?”

“Memorizing
your
soul. That’ll make it easier to find. Later.”

“You don’t scare me.”

“Then you’re dumber than I thought.”

Doug continued to watch him, a growing smile dimpling his cheeks. “Well played, grim. You’re no dumb animal.” Oddly, the compliment seemed sincere.

Footsteps pounded down the hall, and they both turned as Elysia rounded the corner. She skidded to a stop, glancing between them, then turned her frown on Doug. “What are you doing?”

“I found him wandering the halls. I was returning him to you.”

Her frown didn’t lift. “Thank you, but that isn’t necessary.”

“Have you bound him so tightly? You do know that he can travel to other dimensions and reenter the mortal plane hundreds of miles away?”

Her brows rose, and she turned to James. “Is that true?”

“Yes.” James struggled to keep his expression neutral. Would she forbid him to travel?

“You’re so trusting, Ely.” Doug gave her a fond smile, then offered her a hand. “Send the dead guy to his room and take a walk with me?”

Elysia hesitated, then to James’s surprise, she took Doug’s hand. Her eyes lifted to James’s, but she didn’t give him a command.

“So trusting,” Doug repeated and led her away.

James watched them go, then turned toward his room. She trusted him. Guilt squirmed through his gut at the thought of sneaking out. She would support his decision to go free, but her hatred of alchemists made him leery of telling her his plans. Better to ask forgiveness after than to have her deny him seeing Addie entirely.

He opened the door to his room and stepped inside. Like the rest of the house, the room looked as if it had been decorated decades ago with its heavy, antique furniture and faded linens. There was an elegance to it, but the peeling wallpaper and thread-bare rug made it clear that no money remained for the upkeep. No doubt, Elysia saw that, too.

But that wasn’t his problem.

He removed his boots, then pulled off his T-shirt and tossed it on the four-poster bed. His jeans, socks, and underwear followed. He called the hound, but hesitated before shifting form. Walls were not a deterrent to the hound’s sight, only distance. He had no trouble picking out Elysia and Doug among the others in the big house. Elysia’s soul was a blinding sun beside Doug’s dazzling star. It appeared they had left the building for the garden out back.

James frowned when they came to a halt and Doug moved closer to her. He did not trust the big necromancer. What Elysia had ever seen in him, he had no idea.

Dropping to all fours, James slipped into the space between the mortal realm and the next. No more than a ghost in this world, he stepped through the walls and physical boundaries until he stood within the garden.

“So, will you help me?” Elysia asked Doug, her voice carrying easily from the other side of the gazebo where the pair stood.

“Free the grim? Only you would ask such a thing.” Doug chuckled.

James stopped, his ears pricked forward, listening. He had come here to protect her, not to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t deny his interest in this conversation.

“Your grandmother will be disappointed,” Doug continued. “You know he’s the reason she called me up here.”

“Yes.”

“That’s not why I came.”

“Doug.”

“Come on, Ely. I’ve done everything you’ve asked. Are you ever going to give me an answer?”

Elysia moved a few steps away from him. “You don’t love me, Doug. Not the way you love your family.”

“You’ve been alone too long. We’re necromancers; family is everything. I want you to be part of mine.” The man actually sounded sincere.

James shifted his weight from paw to paw. He knew he should go, but couldn’t seem to make himself.

“What about the curse?” Elysia asked. “I’ve only got four years left.”

“Ely.” Doug closed the distance between them. “You’ve got to let that go. There is no curse, only an ancestry of powerful necromancers who didn’t have your strength. Hell’s blood, my own aunt went stark raving mad. It happens.”

“That’s not a helpful argument.”

“Perhaps not. But she was nothing like you.” Doug sighed. “Come on, say yes.”

Elysia took a breath and James braced himself.

“Okay.”

James closed his eyes.

“You’ll marry me?” Doug sounded surprised.

“On one condition,” she said. “I want James to go free. As free as I found him.”

“I don’t think you fully comprehend what the grim represents.”

“He’s a sentient being who deserves to live the life of his choosing.”

“He’s dead.”

“So? You’re just disappointed that you won’t be presenting him to your father.”

“You need to think about this.”

“I have. So what’s it to be? Him or me?”

“You, clearly,” Doug answered without hesitation, “but I might not be able to accomplish this.”

“I’ve stumped the Deacon’s heir?”

He must have pulled her to him, because they stood very close. “I haven’t admitted defeat. Let me make a few calls.”

“Very well.”

He didn’t move away, and by the sound of things, James suspected Doug had kissed her.

He turned and paced along the edge of the gazebo, waiting for the big necromancer to leave. It was several minutes before he did. James lifted his lips in silent disgust and glared at Doug’s back as he walked into the house.

“I thought you were going for a run,” Elysia said into the silence.

James turned to face her. Doug hadn’t sensed him. How had she?

She walked through the gazebo to join him and stopped a few feet away. “I can’t see you, but I feel… the bond.”

Of course, the bond. Interesting. Could he elude necromancers this way? Well, all necromancers except her. He dropped back into the mortal plane.

Elysia gasped. To her, he probably appeared out of thin air. “Doug was right. You can leave this world.”

James swished his tail a couple of times in agreement.

“It’s hard to hold a conversation like this. Get dressed. I’ll meet you in your room.”

James barely heard her last line as he was already traveling to his room. His paws no sooner hit the rug than he was human and pulling on his clothes. “Idiot,” he muttered, stepping into his jeans. He should have gone to Addie. There was no way he could trust his freedom to Doug. The guy would take him for himself, or give him to his father. James shuddered as he imagined being soul-bound to either of them. He had never met Xander, but he had heard enough about him from Addie to prefer to keep it that way.

A knock sounded at his door. Elysia had wasted no time.

He picked up his T-shirt. “Come in.”

She let herself in the room, then leaned against the closed door. “Eavesdropping?”

“I didn’t set out to, but once I found you, I couldn’t leave. I don’t trust him.” He pulled the shirt over his head.

She lifted a brow, though her eyes followed his movements.

He tugged the shirt into place. “I don’t want you to give up your freedom to secure mine.”

“It’s not like that.” She pushed off the door and walked to the window, turning her back on him. “I think I’ve always known I’d end up marrying him.”

“Is that why you ran away from the necro world?”

“I didn’t run away.” She spoke the words with heat, then seemed to collect herself. She ran a hand along the faded curtain. “I wanted a… normal life.”

“You mean a mundane life.”

“I guess.” She continued to toy with the curtain. “What must it be like to just live? To not worry about your magic driving you mad?”

He stopped behind her. “I don’t know. You lost me on the part where you just
live
.”

She bowed her head. “Sorry.”

They stood in silence for a few minutes. “Do you love the guy?” James asked.

She snorted. “Does it matter?”

“I think it should.”

She turned to face him. “And you feel it’s your place to advise me? I assume you’ve never been in a relationship where you weren’t head-over-heels in love with the other person.”

He didn’t answer.

“Well?”

“I’m dead.”’

“Yes, and…?”

The old anger rose up. “And how the hell is that supposed to work?”

She frowned. “I’m not sure I follow you. Because you’re dead you can’t love?”

He turned away. He hadn’t meant to go there, but he couldn’t take the words back now. “Never mind. Just drop it.”

Her hand came to rest on his back. “It’s not that you can’t, it’s that you won’t.”

“It’s not important.” He turned to face her, determined to get the conversation back on track. “We were talking about you… and Doug. If you’ve put yourself in this situation because of me—”

“I told you, that’s not it. This is something I have to do. Don’t make it harder on me.”

James sighed. “I think he’s right. You put too much stock in this curse. It hasn’t struck you down, yet you’re living like it has.”

“You’re allowed to be cursed.”

“I think our situations are a little different.”

“I don’t see how.”

James called the hound as close as he dared, then held up a hand, displaying the ebony claws sprouting from his fingertips. “I am cursed, you may or may not be. Yet you let it rule you.”

“And you don’t, Mr. I-Can’t-Love?”

“You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

“No. I think you’re selling yourself short.”

He caught her wrist, noting the soft intake of breath as his claws lightly brushed her skin, and pressed her palm to his chest. “How am I supposed to explain this? Look, love, no heartbeat. I won’t age; I won’t die, because I’m already dead. Yes, that’s right, you’re in love with a corpse. That’ll be a hell of a thing to dump on someone.”

He expected an outburst, or an impassioned rant about how it wouldn’t be like that—an argument Era often made. Instead, she took a step toward him and pressed her forehead to his cheek.

“Couple of screwed up individuals,” she whispered, repeating her words from earlier.

Her reaction silenced him. She agreed: expecting a woman to accept what he was was foolish. No one had ever agreed with him on this point. They always wanted to sugarcoat it, argue that the right woman wouldn’t care that he was dead. He expected to feel relief, instead her agreement… hurt.

She lifted her head, but didn’t speak. A pause, then she looked down at where he still held her hand against his chest. He started to release her when her other hand settled on top of his. She lightly traced the knuckle of his index finger, sliding her finger down to the clawed tip.