Necromancing the Stone (19 page)

“I knew he could do it,” Brooke said. She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Go get ’em, tiger. I’m going to go over and make sure they’re playing nice with Dunaway.” She didn’t skip over, but I could tell she wanted to.

Ashley wasn’t nearly as chipper. She was frowning, tapping her foot, her arms crossed. “This place is weird, Sam.”

“I know. Do you think it’s all from … you know.”

She scrunched her nose. “It’s possible. I’m not sure. Some of it feels like hers, but there’s something else here, too. Another layer. Either way, this soil is practically soaked in strange magic.” She looked over at me, worried. “And with that kind of unknown … I’m not sure you should be trying anything out here, Sam. Too many variables. The outcome will be unpredictable.”

I sighed and held out my hand. Without speaking, James handed me the old silver athame
.
He didn’t like me trying anything out here, either, but he stayed quiet because James had already reached the same conclusion as I had. I didn’t have a choice. If I came out here and did nothing, the pack would lose what little respect it had for me, and things would get dangerous. I really wanted to avoid getting eaten. I didn’t want to die, period, but I especially didn’t want to be chewed to death. More than basic survival, though, I wanted to find out what had happened here. I owed Brannoc that, at the very least. There was also Brid to think about. I didn’t want to jeopardize what was left of our relationship by screwing this up again. Things were going to be hard enough with pack dynamics changing in ways I couldn’t understand and the emotional bomb of losing her father.

“I know, Ash, but I have to try. Ione is on standby with herbs and whatnot, and I’ve got you with me. It’s the best I can do.”

She recrossed her arms with a scowl. “I understand. I don’t like it, but I get why you have to do it. I’ll help you this time and see if we can’t get a better result.”

Impulsively, I reached over and hugged her one-armed, kissing her on the cheek. “Thanks, Ash.”

She shoved me off with a mock growl. “Just try not to get yourself killed.”

I let go of her and took a deep breath. Positioned my feet shoulders’ width apart, and straightened my back. I took a few more steadying breaths, holding up my arm and the knife. I wasn’t really used to cutting myself yet, but given the alternative, which was stabbing something else, probably to its death, it was preferable. I felt a tap on my shoulder. Sean was standing next to me.

He nodded at the knife. “Given your state last time, I thought maybe I’d volunteer.”

I blinked at him. “Huh?”

He rolled his eyes and held out his arm. “I don’t want you passing out and bleeding all over our nice field.”

I didn’t like the idea of someone else taking my place. “It’s silver,” I said. “It will take you longer to heal it.”

He shrugged. “Not as long as you, and not as long as them.” He jerked his head back at some of his pack members. Sean was a hybrid, which meant his allergy to silver wasn’t as severe. That didn’t mean I was any more cavalier about slicing my friend with a knife.

Kell leaned forward. “If I can interfere for a moment, I suggest you take him up on it, Sam. Bleeding will weaken you, and Sean’s willingness to volunteer shows the pack that he doesn’t believe you have anything to do with this mess. I believe the current vernacular is ‘win-win.’”

He was right, of course. I nodded slowly. Sean held out his arm. “I’m sorry,” I said. Then I slashed the blade. The world held its breath for me as Sean’s blood fell. My back became rigid, and I gasped as it hit the grass.

Sometimes, a location can become steeped in death. Douglas’s basement is one of those places. I’d never really encountered it outside, since the ground is porous and more forgiving, but since Brannoc’s death was so fresh, all that blood and energy was still there. It hadn’t been this responsive the last time I’d tried to contact Brannoc, but It was possible that using Sean had made it worse, his blood calling out to Brannoc’s. Either way, I was flooded, and the magic took over.

When it comes to magic, the human body is a lot like a conductor. It flows through you, and you direct it where you need it to go. Like electricity, sometimes you get a surge and it’s too much for the conductor to handle. With electrical energy, you have fail-safes—breakers flip, and things turn off. It’s not so different in humans. There was a power surge, and my breaker flipped, only it felt a lot like getting hit by a Mack truck. Then floating darkness and a firm feminine voice telling me
no.
The flower lady was back, and she wasn’t taking any guff from lil’ ol’ me.

I awoke to James smacking me. Jolting up, I desperately pulled air into my lungs. Sean knelt next to me, shaking my shoulder. “You scared the crap out of us.” I stared back at him blankly, my teeth chattering. There was a grumbling next to me, and I looked over to see a big-ass bear. Apparently I wasn’t the only one out of control here. Ramon snarled at someone and parked his big bear butt at my side. Comforting … sort of.

After a few false starts, I got out the question, “What?”

James had his blank face on, but to me that was beginning to be a sign that things weren’t well. Brooke hugged me, and Ashley hovered, looking pissed.

And it was the angry little Harbinger who answered me. “You passed out. Then you got cold and stopped breathing. Ods bodkins, Sam, your lips are blue!”

James wrapped my suit jacket back around me, and I pulled it close. He finally pushed the hovering crowd out of the way and scooped me up.

“James Montgomery, you’re my hero,” I chattered.

“With all due respect, you need to shut the hell up, Sam.” He set me on a big boulder that had grown warm in the sun. It felt awesome. “Look around now and tell me what you see.”

“Hey, you called me Sam. My actual name. Not Master or dumbass—”

“I have never in my life called anyone dumbass.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now, focus.”

I held my jacket and tried to covertly take in my surroundings. Brid was off to the side with members of her pack. She seemed torn between staying with them and coming over to me. At least, I hoped she was torn. Some of her pack looked worried. But a few of them looked mad as hell. There was a lot of grumbling going on, and angry faces. A few had shifted into wolves, pissy ones, and it was them Ramon was growling at.

“Great, now what did I do?”

“Look.”

Frowning, I continued to scan. Oh. Oh, boy. Stanley, the giant undead bull elk, came up and nudged my shoulder. James had to dodge his antlers. I stroked the elk on his cheek and nose. “Hey, buddy.”

As I petted Stanley, I realized a few things. One was that he was glad to see me and happy that I was okay. The other was that he wasn’t alone. In my stupor, I had accidentally raised a lot of … things. That surge had to go somewhere, and my unconscious self had sent it out. The clearing was now populated with squirrels, raccoons, birds, a few deer, and worse, wolves. I put my head against Stanley’s nose and hoped those weren’t werewolves. But I didn’t have high hopes on that one. What can I say? When I screw up, I screw up big.

“Shit.”

James absently scratched Stanley between his antlers. “Indeed. You need to do something about this now.”

“No wonder some of the pack look pissed,” I said. Keeping the jacket loose around my shoulders, I stood up, leaning on Stanley for support. Even though I was warmer now, I still felt tired and abused.

As I walked into the center of the clearing, I noticed that everyone else had backed away a bit. Unintentionally I’m sure, but it made me feel like a pariah. Of course, it could have been the giant were-bear by my side, but for some reason, I didn’t think that was it. The animals naturally came up to me, and the few that didn’t watched my every move. One of the wolves, a big gray and white beast, walked over, and the rest of the creatures parted for her. I knelt down so I could look her in the eye.

You need help.
Her voice whispered in my head, an unheard alto. It was weird to not actually hear something outside, but to have it bouncing around on the inside of my skull like a Ping-Pong ball. As with everything else I seemed to do lately, it was creepy.

Yes
, I whispered back. She seemed to nod, and the wolves spread out, smelling and searching. I let them do what they do best.

One of the pack, an angry but somewhat familiar looking guy of medium build, broke away from the crowd. “This is outrageous!” He shouted the words, his red face reminding me of a volcano only a heart’s beat away from eruption. Spittle flew from his mouth. A speck hit my cheek, and I wiped it off with the heel of my hand. The eruption had begun.

“Eric.” This from Bran, a warning tone in his voice. Brid was clutching her brother, but she remained silent.

Ah, yes, Eric. My number one fan. Of course he was here. We were a thunderstorm and an industrial accident away from the best day ever. I wondered if I should have Ashley run over and give me a wedgie just to complete the experience.

Not to be swayed, Eric kept his eyes on me, his voice pitched for all to hear. “No, someone needs to stand up for the pack. Someone needs to stand up for your family. This”—he waved at the wolves that I’d raised—“is adding insults on top of what he has already done. If this doesn’t prove that he cares nothing for us, what does?”

Okay, now, I’d felt pretty bad over the last few days for screwing up, but this time … well, this time, with the help of my furry clue-sniffing undead lackeys, I was actually doing something helpful. So I got angry. I left Ramon’s side and marched over to Eric.

“Look, buddy, I don’t know what your freaking problem is, but has it occurred to you that I’m trying to do my damn job?” I waved out at the crowd of creatures. “This is what I do. This is how I help.”

He got in my face and started jabbing a finger into my chest. “Then we don’t want your help, if this is what it looks like. First you bring a human among us, and now this? I don’t like your kind, and I’m not the only one. They can’t be trusted.
You
can’t be trusted.” He drew the last word out, practically hissing it.

That’s our Eric. What a charmer. Ladies, try not to swoon.

I stared down at his finger. He’d left it stuck to my chest, poking just a little too hard to be comfortable. I felt the rage blossom in my rib cage and spread out like a sea anemone. The tentacles reached for that offending finger. I like to think that I’m a pretty mellow person. I try really hard to understand where people are coming from. To show a little sympathy or empathy where I can. But even I have my limits, and I had been pushed a touch too far the last couple of days.

Very softly I said, “You need to remove your hand and back away.”

“Or what?” And he shoved me. A little push is all, the small ubiquitous shove that prompts so many schoolyard scuffles. But it was enough.

I felt the animals stop what they were doing and come up behind me. And I felt the things that couldn’t rise. The ghosts, the spirits, the energy, call it what you will, but it was all there, and it was for me. And I took it. I looked up at Eric, and I felt the burning in my eyes, the unveiled wrath and fury. “Or I will remind you why I am Council and you are not.” And I shoved him back. Not hard. Enough to put him off balance and get him out of my face, but not to hurt him. Yet.

I let my jacket fall. I didn’t need it now. My skin felt like it was burning up. And for the first time, I think I really understood what it meant to be Council, and that I was right to be there.

I advanced. “Do you know what that means, or do I need to break it down for you?” The wolves that I’d raised flanked me, growling softly. “It means that I work for the law, I work for justice, no matter what you want. You think I give a damn if I’m pissing you off or offending your fucking sensibilities? I don’t. This is what I do. This is what I am. I won’t apologize for it any more than you should for sprouting hair and drooling on occasion.” I jabbed him in his chest. He wanted to fight. I could feel it. Some of it was directed at me, but mostly it was just built-up aggression. But you know what? We’d all been having a shitty week. That didn’t mean we got to take it out on whomever we wanted.

The crowd around me felt like it was at a tipping point. If we got in a fight, an actual physical altercation, it might do more damage than Eric wanted. There were a lot of high emotions floating around. But I had a feeling that if I didn’t throw a little smack down on this assjack, it would be opening up the floor for all kinds of challenges. I couldn’t afford that. And even if I wanted to, it wasn’t like I could take Eric in such a way physically that would dissuade others from trying. Skinny necromancer versus full werewolf? No contest. Tokyo under the rampaging feet of Godzilla. But I didn’t need to hit him. I just needed to scare him.

The pack had gotten pretty comfortable with me. I’d been around for a while, and I’d never done anything really spooky in front of them, and it had made a few of the dumber ones like Eric careless. There’s a reason why Zeke is careful when he frisks me at the Tongue & Buckle, though. He’s always thorough, I don’t mean that. But when it comes to me, he makes sure his skin never touches mine. Smart people are careful around someone like me.

I opened my hand and changed the poke to a full palm on Eric’s chest, my fingers touching the skin not covered by his tank top. Some people had natural defenses, or a stronger will, but Eric was clear as a bell. The were was pissy on so many levels. Losing his pack leader was only part of the problem. Strengthwise, he wasn’t too high on the totem pole. He wanted more of a position than he had, and he thought by stepping in like this, he might get it. And it might impress a certain redhead as well. Jealousy and anger are never a good combo.

“Oh, Eric. How little you understand your own people.” I’d barely been trained in my gift, and most of that training had been of the nuts-and-bolts variety. I’d found, though, that there was more to it than raising the dead. Sometimes I could give someone a little mental
push
, and they would go along with what I wanted. I had used it accidentally on my biological father’s wife once when I was trying to get information out of her. It was not something I liked to do, and I got the impression that not many necromancers had this particular ability, which made asking for help with it a touch awkward. Douglas could do it. I didn’t really want to think about that, though.