Boneyard (The Thaumaturge Series Book 2) (32 page)

“What does Ebron have to do with it?” Brittany asked.

“Cran-tinis!” Dahlia sang, coming into the room. “What are we talking about?”

“The car accident,” Brittany said. “And Ebron, apparently.”

“Oh,” Dahlia said, looking back and forth between Danielle and me. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

“You okay?” Dahlia asked softly. I thought she was addressing Danielle, but it was me she was staring at. She took a step forward. “You look pale.”

“I’m...” Danielle and Brittany watched me too. All of them, just looking. Staring. Sweat prickled my armpits. I tugged at the collar of my shirt.

“I just need to use the bathroom,” I croaked, and stumbled for the hallway.

I turned on the cold water and cupped my hands under the flow. The iciness centered me, made the pounding in my head recede far back enough so that I could think.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I saw her soul, bobbing trustingly towards me in that blue-black space, waiting for me to guide it home. My fingers had just floated right through it, like mist. Like a dream. Was I losing my powers or was I just out of steam? What if I’d brought her back wrong? What if—fuck, what if not all of her soul had gotten back inside? What if she wasn’t all there?

Hot, tight bands seized around my chest. The air punched out of me. I dropped down onto the closed toilet lid, right on top of the felt candy corn cover. My vision went hazy around the edges. My heart hammered against the cage of my ribs.

“Breathe, breathe,” I gasped out loud, and managed to suck in one long breath. The fist around my lungs loosened a little, but not enough. A whine filled my throat. I thundered my fists uselessly on my own thighs.

A shadow appeared under the door. “Ebron?” Dahlia’s voice, just outside. “You okay?”

I couldn’t answer. I could hardly breathe. My throat stuck, my chest shuddered.

“Ebron, I’m coming in.”

The door creaked open and I saw Dahlia’s bare feet tiptoe onto the tile. I stared at the orange paint on her toenails.

She crouched in front of me. “Ebron. Honey. What’s the matter?”

I shook my head.

She paused. “Did Danielle say something to you?”

I peered up at her. “Why would you say that?”

“She’s not quite herself today,” Dahlia said carefully. “Do you know why?”

I didn’t. I really, really didn’t. I wheezed in a breath and let my arms fall limply to my sides.

“Sorry, stupid question,” Dahlia said. She reached for my hand. “Just breathe, okay?”

I nodded, and tried. Pressure grew between my eyes and I fumbled for some toilet paper. Dahlia leaned back as I loudly blew my nose.

“You okay?” Dahlia asked.

I nodded.

“Is this normal? How’s she acting, I mean?”

“I don’t know. Dahlia...”

“What happened?” She asked, squeezing my hand. “How does it happen?”

“I fixed her body,” I said. Talking about it felt like a relief, like pulling an aching tooth. “She was the last one; I took care of the boy and the other girl first, and then they showed me Danielle.”

“And she was dead,” Dahlia stated flatly.

“Yes,” I said, raising my eyes to meet hers. “And she was dead.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Dahlia breathed. She released my hand to press her fingers to her forehead. “Okay. Then what?”

“I fix the bodies first,” I said. “But I was hurting bad by the time I got to Danielle. It, you know, takes a lot out of me. So I was in rough shape by the time I got to her. But I got her body fixed okay. I just, I just couldn’t get a hold of her soul. It kept slipping out of my hands.”

“So...” Dahlia stared at me, looking horrified. “My daughter is walking around without a
soul?”

 “No,” I said quickly. “That’s not what I’m saying. Bodies can’t survive without souls, not without life support.” Carl Fogerty has certainly proved that. “I think Danielle’s fine. She just needs some time to recover.”

“Okay.” Dahlia nodded.

I fidgeted on the fluffy toilet seat. “I didn’t actually—” I struggled for the right word. How to explain the act of guiding a soul, of holding something so precious and sacred? “I was out of energy,” I said. “I saw her soul make its way back to her body, but I didn’t actually push it back in. But she wouldn’t be alive without it. So I’m sure she’s fine.”

“We’ll keep an eye on her,” Dahlia said, with sudden fierceness. “She’s back with us. That’s all that matters.”

“I’m really sorry,” I told her.

“You’re a miracle worker,” she replied.

I really wished people would fucking stop saying that.

The doorbell rang just as we sat down to eat. Brittany whipped her head around. “Maybe it’s Travis!” she exclaimed.

Dahlia rolled her eyes, but I didn’t miss the look of unease that flashed over her face. I thought she’d said that her ex was heading out of town, but the holidays do funny things to people.

“I’ll get it?” I offered. Dahlia glanced at her daughters but gave me a nod.

I took a deep breath, trying to get into the right headspace for a holiday confrontation with Dahlia’s ex, especially after he’d warned me away from her. At least I was taller than him. Maybe that would distract him long enough for me to get in one good blow. I mean, if it came down to it.

I opened the door.

“Hi,” Leo said.

“Hi,” I said. I stared at him.

Leo rocked forward onto his toes. “Can I come in?”

“I...” I stepped back. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

“I know,” he said. He kissed me as he stepped inside. “I got your message.”

“I... Leo?”

“Everything’s fine,” he said softly. He took my hand. “Finally. We’re in the clear. Let me meet your friends?”

I nodded helplessly.

“Uh, everyone,” I said, as we returned to the dining room. “This is Leo.”

He grinned and squeezed my hand. “Hi, everyone. Sorry I’m late.”

“Everyone loved you,” I mumbled against his neck. He laughed, his chest rumbling under my hands.

“I don’t care about everyone,” he said. “I care about you.”

“I love you.”

He moved his hands down to my legs, sliding under my thighs.

“I love you, too,” he said and lifted.

He carried me down the hallway towards my bedroom, and I peppered his face with kisses. The room spun a little when he tossed me down on the bed, and I grinned up at him.

“How many of those beers did you have?” he asked, amused. He lifted my foot and began unlacing my sneaker.

“Six,” I said, and frowned. “I think. A minim of six.
Min-i-mum
. That’s a hard word.”

“Sit up.”

I did, and let him peel my shirt over my head. He flattened his palms across my chest, rubbing and kneading. I hummed, my head tilting back.

“So,” he said. I peeked open one eye to see him hungrily admiring my throat.

I pulled him in by his shirt and kissed him. “Anything you want.”

“Yeah?” he murmured against my lips.

“Yeah,” I said, meeting his eyes. “Anything.”

“Oh, babe,” he said and mashed his mouth against mine.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” I said, when he moved his mouth down to my throat and began sucking.

“I had fun.”

“I’m glad,” I said and groaned when his hands found their way into the front of my jeans. “Oh, I’m really glad.”

He snorted, a gentle breath against my neck. “Take off your pants.”

“I have so much to be thankful for.”

“You adorable dork. Take off your pants.”

I obliged, flattening myself and drawing in my knees so I could pluck at the legs of my jeans. Leo peeled off his own shirt and his hands went to his belt.

I reached for him, drawing him down to rest between my legs.  He stretched his weight over my body and I groaned.

“Hmm?” he murmured, kissing me down my jawline.

“I’m so full,” I complained and he smiled.

“Yeah, you were practically licking the plate. How many slices of pie did you have?”

“Not as many as you,” I replied and kissed him.

His lips curled into a smile, but he kissed back, shifting to brace himself on one arm. The other curled around the back of my neck, tilting my head back so that he could kiss me deeper. Heat bloomed out from my groin at the first slide of his tongue.

“So we’re all good, right?” I asked when we broke apart.

“Yeah, I think we are,” he said and dropped down to swipe his tongue across my nipple. I hissed and arched up, tilting my body towards him. He grinned up at me, sliding his hands along my ribs. Then he darted them forwards, digging them into my armpits.

 I exploded into surprised laugher, my legs flailing. I bucked, but he held on, wiggling his fingers madly.

“You animal!” I screeched, trying to flip over, or curl up like a shrimp, or anything to dislodge him. Not that I really wanted him to stop. My cheeks hurt from smiling.

“When I was a kid,” he said. “My cousins used to sit on my chest. They’d pin my arms to my sides and tickle me; they called it ‘playing the piano’. I had to say ‘uncle’ to get them to stop.”

“Uncle, uncle,” I gasped and his fingers immediately relaxed. He lowered himself on top of me again and nuzzled my face with his nose. I drew in a few giddy breaths and closed my eyes, soaking up the feeling of having him so close.

His mouth found mine again and we kissed, first with lips and then with tongues, the heat increasing until I couldn’t stop myself from twitching my hips up against him. He gave back immediately, grinding down on me hard enough to make me moan and clutch at his shoulders.

“Not to break the mood,” I said, breaking off to pant against his jaw. “But I just ate enough to feed a small army. There’s no way I can... you know...”

He chuckled. “I’m going to suck you off,” he said into my ear. “Then I’m going to sit on your cock.”

“Oh,” I said, surprised. “Okay then.”

He ground his hips against mine again and I had to close my eyes against the sharp spike of lust. All the blood in my body seemed to stop and rush towards my dick. My fingers curled around his hard biceps. He drew back and when nothing else happened, I cracked open my eyes.

Our eyes met and locked and for long seconds, my heart just pounded while he stared at me. A fine line appeared between his brows and without thinking I raised a hand to touch, tracing the curve of his eyebrows. He turned his face into my palm without breaking his gaze. His stomach pressed warm against mine. His cold toes rested under my ankles.

It felt like years before he moved again, blinking once and sliding down my chest. I exhaled the breath I didn’t know I was holding. My fingers dragged against his cheek, his hair and then he slipped away.

He took me in his mouth and I whined, biting down hard on my bottom lip. My eyes fluttered shut. His tongue, sinful, sinful, the way it curled around me. I reached for him again, searching for his hair, but his fingers found my wandering hand and gripped hard.

I let my knees fall open, my head fall back. Leo shuffled in closer, curling over my crotch. He released my hand and grabbed the base of my cock, pulling off with one last drag of his tongue.

I panted, staring up at my ceiling. I felt him moving over me, straddling me. My fingers traced up his thighs and hooked onto his hips. The muscles under my touch flexed as he arranged himself.

“Okay?” he asked softly.

I squeezed his hips. “Good. So good.”

“Can I—” his eyes fixed on my throat and when I swallowed, he inhaled sharply.

“You won’t accidentally kill me?” I asked, trying to keep it light. He touched my cheek, his eyes tender.

“I won’t accidentally kill you,” he promised.

 “And it won’t turn me into a vampire?”

He looked startled. “No.” He snorted a little laugh. “No, babe, you’re thinking of werewolves.”

My eyes widened. “There are
werewolves
?”

“I know a few.” He smirked as he reached behind himself, taking my cock in his hand. He gave me a few strokes while I just blinked up at him, trying to process new supernatural information alongside the delicious sensation of his hands on me.

“Hand me the lube,” he said and it took a few seconds for the words to make sense in my head.

“Huh?”

He grinned and leaned over me to snatch the lube off the nightstand. I took the opportunity to kiss his stomach, the defined bands of muscle across his ribs. Then his fingers were back on me, cool and slick. I let my head thud back down onto my pillow.

When he sank down on me though, I arched up with a moan, squeezing his thighs hard. He moaned too, a low sound followed by a hiss. When he was settled, he cupped my face, tilting my head back to expose my throat.

The sight seemed to enflame him. With a groan, he rocked forward. I scrambled to get my feet flat on the mattress, giving me leverage to thrust up into him.

“Yeah, like that,” he breathed, his eyes fluttering closed. I thrust again, falling into a rhythm.

He let me fuck him, for a lot longer than I expected. After a bit, his hands wandered to my throat, his thumbs pressing my chin up. He shifted, falling forward and burying his face in my neck.

“Okay?” he whispered. “Ready?”

My hips bucked up again into his tight warmth. I licked my dry lips as my heaving chest made him rise and fall.

I sucked in a harsh breath. No going back now. “Okay,” I whispered and squeezed my eyes shut.

He hummed, nosing along my throat while my heart jumped and sputtered. He pressed close-mouthed kisses from my jaw to my collarbone, then licked the spot where my pulse beat against my skin.

“Relax,” he murmured. He suddenly clenched around my cock and I groaned, my hands flying up to grab his arms.

Then I felt his teeth, the sharp points just resting on me for half a dozen frantic beats of my heart. Then, with unbelievable delicacy, he glided forward and the fangs parted my skin and slid into my neck.

I cried out, my hands clenching on his arms, my hips bolting up violently. Warmth immediately spread out from my neck, flooding down my body and lighting up every nerve. Stars exploded in my mind. My body felt too small to hold all the lightness in me, like his bite had awakened some innate elation that began to flutter inside me like birds. Moans poured out from me as I felt his lips working against my throat. I was dizzily
aware
of the suction of his mouth, the strange drawing pressure. The sensation vibrated back into my spine and down, straight down to my aching cock. I put my trembling fingers in his hair and pulled him closer. Vaguely, I understood that I was still thrusting up into him. My whole body felt like an erection, straining and enflamed and aching.