Betrayed: Necromancer's Blight: Book 3 Page 6

  Chapter Eight

  She was going to be the death of me.

  After we’d gotten back and reported what happened, Leda had also filled us in on their plan’s progress. They’d gotten about five percent of the locations done the first day, and figured it would take another four or five days until every Blood of facility commander rank and below, had received the news.

  Then I’d walked Serena back to her room, which she promptly invited me into, to watch a movie. She’d said she hadn’t wanted the day to end yet, and it had sounded very good to me at the time.

  It still did sound good, even as she tortured me with her body in my lap, and the scent of her was so inviting as I played with her soft silky midnight hair. She was impossible to resist, and she gave me a smirk every time she caught me staring at her neck, ears, or lips. It was a dangerous game to play, but quite fun as we teased each other. It was also frustrating, but I’d survive.

  She made my life a joy, she really did. Despite all the insanity around me, the life-threatening dangers, Fae sent assassins, the constant work, and an impossible mission, despite it all I’d never been this happy, or this utterly captivated by a woman. That she felt the same way about me was a gift beyond price.

  But… she’d be the death of me by the time we were sure enough to be hitched…

  “Hey troublemaker,” said the cute willowy blonde with light blue eyes. Her voice had a teasing lilt as she sat down next to me in Friday morning business class.

  I didn’t think I’d be seeing Christina in class, she was who knows where, but we all guessed her and Matt weren’t in Chicago anymore. Still, I hadn’t expected Christina’s usual sitting partner would come seek me out either.

  I replied, “Hey witch.”

  Jo stuck her tongue out.

  I shrugged, “You call me Tom, I’ll call you Jo?”

  She said, “Sounds fair, but you are a troublemaker.”

  I laughed, “And you are a witch.”

  She giggled, “Fine, point. Tom.”

  I said, “Jo,” and smiled.

  I wasn’t sure why I was bantering with a witch, even if we did get along well enough. Except, my weird sense of humor did kick in when I was off balance, and her sitting next to me had been enough of a surprise to do that.

  Still, I was smart enough to be wary. The plan was to lay low as possible the next four or five days, and survive any assassins that were sent our way. Otherwise we were trying to avoid making any waves that might provoke a heavy response from the Blood leadership. Once the truth had been spread, it would be time to push back and get some kind of resolution or compromise everyone could live with. Jo never treated me badly, except perhaps the first time we met, but I couldn’t forget she was the heir to the coven, and anything I told her would go straight to Katherine’s ear.

  Absurdly enough, that didn’t mean we weren’t friends of sorts either.

  We settled down as the professor came in, stood behind the lectern, and started his usual droning, which he called teaching. And as usual, I took notes, because it helped me stay focused, otherwise his voice would make me zone out about ten minutes in.

  After class she murmured, “Hold on a minute, I want to talk to you about a few things.”

  I immediately felt suspicious of her motives, but pushed that down. I’d give her the benefit of the doubt. It only took a couple of minutes, and we were the only ones left in the lecture hall.

  “First, I wanted to tell you I believed you, but as heir to the coven I have surprisingly little power. That will change in a few years, when I take over for my mother, but until then I’m like a princess, fussed over but no real power.”

  “Can I call you princess Jo.”

  She rolled her eyes, “Shut up.”

  I laughed, “Yes princess.”

  She snorted, “I’m trying to extend an olive branch here.”

  I nodded, “Sorry Jo, what were you saying?”

  She shrugged, “I tried, but they weren’t there with us, and didn’t hear it first-hand. Or see first-hand the belief and conviction in the eyes of over forty Blood spirits. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but us witches can be rather arrogant sometimes, admitting we’ve been fooled for countless generations is a hard pill to swallow.”

  I nodded, “I get that, thank you.”

  She sighed, “This next part you aren’t going to like, but I promised Chris I’d pass on what I know.”

  I frowned, “What about them, are they alright?”

  I probably shouldn’t give a shit, traitorous assholes, but I did.

  She nodded, “Did you know Macy had a rather colorful career?”

  I replied carefully, “I knew she hated the Blood, and lived for revenge.”

  She tilted her head, “Yeah, toward the end she loved outwitting the coven and the Blood in a city, and killing a bunch of them as a goodbye gesture. But… before that, in the beginning she was a little more creative and vindictive with her revenge. Three years ago, she captured two blood, tortured them for a while and sent fingers, an ear, some toes or other random body parts as a gift. Every few days the rest of the blood in that city would receive them. When she was done, she finally finished them off, and then raised them as vampires.

  “Then Macy sent them back as a final gift. The rest of the blood in the city had to fight them and take them down. One of those people was Matt, and the partners that had been captured, were his parents.”

  I thought about that for a minute. His intensely heated glare at me, when he told me Macy was plenty dangerous, and his general coldness and hatred for necromancers. I didn’t want to, but I kind of got it. He hated them, and how could I blame him? Still, it was fuzzy thinking, anytime someone hated a whole race because of the actions of a few, it became wrong. Prejudice, racism. Still, I got it. I also wondered if he’d always been so grim, or if he’d been happier before then.

  Jo paused for a while as I absorbed all that.

  She sighed, “Matt hates necromancers. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe your story, it was that he didn’t care. His life had become killing them. Chris on the other hand, feels like total shit. She was angry, not at you, at the injustice of what happened, that the truth was too late to… I trust I don’t have to go on. Anyway, she chose in anger, to support her mate.”

  I understood that too, but that didn’t make it okay.

  “That doesn’t excuse it. He could have objected or argued directly, instead he got Carl thrown in Blood jail.”

  Jo nodded, “People screw up. But the point was, to explain Chris already regrets it. She should have tried to stop him, but was too mixed up at the time.”

  Yeah, wasn’t the first time she screwed up because of her emotions either, or even the first betrayal against me. Of course, I was almost happy about her original betrayal now. In hindsight, I didn’t think we’d have lasted in the long run. We’d had respect for each other, chemistry, attraction, and a spark, but our personalities wouldn’t have meshed nearly as well as mine did with Serena. She was too reserved, my sense of humor would have started to annoy her eventually, or so I told myself. And honestly, her prim lectures would have gotten to me as well.

  “Okay, I get it. Honestly, I’m not even overly mad anymore. Still confused though, I mean once the council decides on a course of action, I’m thinking, or at least hoping, they’ll change course on the necromancers. So, what did betraying us really gain Matt?”

  She shrugged, “I have no idea what his thought process was, just know that it originated with his anger and hatred with necromancers.”

  I nodded, “Well you kept your word.”

  She nodded, and made a face, then handed me a piece of paper. I opened it, and it listed two names. Cindy Meyers, and Joseph Alan. Joseph’s name had a date next to it.

  “What’s this?”

  She bit her lip, “Your real parents. Up for one more story?”

  I gaped at her.

  She laughed, “Finally struck silent!”

&nbs
p; I snorted, “Please?”

  She said, “It’s not what you think. They’d already tried what you believed was done to your parents, four times before. A female necromancer tied down and helpless, with a male Blood to knock her up against her will. The fifth time the council decided the opposite should be tried to see if there was a difference. Maybe paternity and maternity the opposite way would change the mix so to speak.

  “Anyway, they caught your father, he was insane, filled him with silver slivers to suppress his magic, and put him in a room. Your mother Cindy was a typical Blood, obedient, loyal, and willing to do anything for the cause. Filled with duty, and a hope to end the necromancer threat if it worked. Raping a man is possible, but she didn’t have to. She… seduced him. It wasn’t hard, he was nuts, but when necromancers go crazy it isn’t just violent, you know what I mean?”

  I nodded, I did know. Macy had been that way, crazy, violent, and evil in some ways, but she’d also had a strange innocence, and had been yearning for a connection. Lonely. She’d offered her body to me more than once if I’d just escape, and I could imagine my father would have been in a somewhat similar state of mind.

  It had also occurred to me, that I still hadn’t met a supernatural, of any race, that wasn’t attractive. Had the Nephilim done that too? Regardless, it wasn’t hard to imagine that her seduction of him hadn’t been difficult.

  I asked, “Just how did you know what I was thinking had happened for my birth anyway? I hadn’t told anyone.”

  She paused for a moment, “The roof, the look on your face when you said you knew how you came about. It wasn’t enough for someone that knows nothing to pick up on, but for me that had access to how the first four were made, it was easy enough to deduce the anger on your face.”

  I nodded, that made sense, I guess.

  She continued, “When she had you, she fell in love with you. She knew to the Blood you’d be raised apart, and separated. You were a tool so they could force the prophecy and end the war. Bet they’re regretting that now right? I mean, since it worked, but they lost control. Anyway, I imagine she started to have doubts. You were her son after all, not an experiment, and she loved you. So, she took you, and ran.

  “I don’t know how you ended up where you did, in a tiny town where no supernatural would ever have reason to step. Most likely she gave you up because it was safer, she figured you’d be raised in a loving home, and for some reason I don’t know, she left you behind.”

  She sighed, “I don’t even know if she’s dead or alive, or if she’s dead what her date of death could possibly be. All I could get was a name. Your father of course, was killed as soon as she turned up pregnant, and the pregnancy was declared stable, so that date I wrote down.”

  I was speechless, and in shock. I had no reason to doubt anything she’d said. The fact my mother hadn’t been raped, felt like a huge weight coming off my shoulders. It also finally made sense, that I’d been put in a small town, that part had never really made sense to me before. How I’d ended up there I mean.

  I said sincerely, “Thank you Jo, but why? Can’t you get in trouble for telling me?”

  She smiled, “Your welcome, as for why… I’ll just be honest, since you’d scent a lie anyway. Damn judgement. One, I like you, you’re a good man and you saved my life. Two, in a few years I’ll be head of the coven here, and I wanted to prove to you I’m going to be your ally, and as a result of that, the Chicago coven will be your ally. Three, I believed your story, and I also believe you’re going to have a lot of power and influence in our world in a few years, and having you as my ally and owing me a major favor is the smart thing to do.”

  That was all true. She liked me, wanted me in her debt, and wanted to be my ally, in both directions.

  “You know, you could have just said one, I wouldn’t have picked up a lie.”

  She snorted, “You are far too perceptive for a man. Fine, number four, I wanted to set our alliance early, when we were both still relatively powerless. Which means we’re making it on the fact we’re friends, and that we like each other, rather than… weighing it against political power and deals later on. In order to do that, I had to share two and three.”

  She smiled brightly, “What? We can be friends and still play politics, can’t we?”

  I laughed, “Fine, but what’s the rest of the reason.”

  I knew she had held some back.

  She scowled, and explained, “My reach will be strong as leader of a city’s coven, but I seriously doubt your influence will be local only, which means it will exceed mine. Of course, it’s a gamble, it might turn out that you’ll be nobody in a few years, and I’ll be the big cheese in our relationship. I doubt it though.”

  That… kind of made me feel better. We were friends, but she also had a mercenary reason to do this. It… fit my view of who she was a lot better. She was a good person, but ambitious as well. I also couldn’t see what she saw. I didn’t want to run anything, I just wanted to get the truth out. If knowledge was truly power, then I was determined to give it away to everyone.

  “Alright, I can agree to that, I do owe you, and we are friends… and allies.”

  She nodded, “In three years and some odd months that will mean more, I can’t really help you all that much right now.”

  I laughed, “That’s okay, that makes two of us, but if you need me, you have my number.”

  She got up and tossed her long blonde hair, “See you on Monday,” and walked off.

  I sighed, a witch as a friend would keep me on my toes. I got up and left the classroom, and then headed toward my dorm. I had to get in a workout before lunch, but there was something I needed to do first, on the roof…

  Chapter Nine

  Joseph Allen. I sent him an invitation, concentrating on the name and his date of death, his relation to me. To say I was conflicted was a huge understatement. Sure, he wasn’t the rapist I’d thought he was, but he did choose a path of necromancy and power, followed by insanity and who knows how many deaths.

  Serena wasn’t close to me, but summoning or inviting just one ghost was well within my personal limits. It also occurred to me this would be the perfect time to ambush me, when I was alone and unable to wield my full power. Fortunately, an attack in mid-morning daylight was unlikely, but far from impossible.

  The air seemed to waver slightly as I felt the energy of the spirit coalesce before me. I took a moment to study him, as he studied me. He was in his late twenties at most when he’d died, and was about the same height as me, six foot even. He had darker hair, and dark brown eyes, which meant I must have inherited my mother’s hazel eyes. Despite those differences, the facial structure made it very obvious we were related.

  Joseph nodded, “Son. I wondered if you’d call me.”

  I tilted my head, “You can see this world from the other side?”

  Joseph shook his head, “Yes, and no. It’s more like… there are rules you understand. Think of it as a sixth sense, I can’t watch your life directly or anything, but I get feelings, knowledge. I could sense it when you learned of me.”

  I frowned, “Do you know if Cindy is…”

  He shook his head, “She hasn’t passed yet, that’s all I can tell you. I get the sense she’s been hiding a long time. She stays away from major cities, but that isn’t much of a help, is it? I cared about her, she was very kind to me, though it’s hard to remember the insanity. It… feels like it was someone or something else, you know?”

  I asked, “So there’s nothing else you can tell me that might help?”

  He shook his head.

  “So, what happened to you, will you tell me?”

  He nodded, “What usually happens. The Blood found me. It isn’t easy not to use our power, most of us use it on accident a few times growing up, teenagers can be a little reckless. I was sane enough, but I had just a trace of the blight in me, enough to get caught.”

  He shrugged, “In hindsight maybe it would have been better to let them kill
me, but the will to live, our survival trait as humans is rather strong. I fought back the only way I could against those stronger and faster than me, with magic, it was instinct. Then you know how it is, the witches got a hold of my stuff, and I got a little more insane every time they caught up with me.”

  I nodded, “Hopefully that story won’t be so common soon, those like that will be cleansed, not killed.”

  He smiled, “Yes, I’d heard you were causing a ruckus down here. My friends and I have been discussing it.”

  I raised an eyebrow, “Any ideas? I’m a bit confused on how to get that ball rolling to be honest. Once it gains momentum it should be easy enough but…” I trailed off.

  He smirked, “Who me? Actually, there are whole family lines of necromancers who I know rather well, and they know where their descendants call home. At least, if they haven’t moved. When you have things ready, and the Blood ready to heal instead of kill, call me back, and I’ll give you a nice long list. Not only that, you can summon their relatives and send them as messengers so they’ll believe things really have changed and not run.”

  “That’s… brilliant.”

  Why the hell hadn’t I thought of that? Damn, I’m a moron. It wouldn’t take a hundred years, if I could work with the spirits of necromancer families, it wouldn’t even take years. Sure, the mixing of the two species into one new necromancer race would take generations, but the bonding, cleansing, and destruction of the blight on this world could happen a lot faster than that. All we’d have to do is find who was compatible with who. There’d be problems, and switches, but with the communities living together that wouldn’t be a huge issue.

  Things had just gotten a lot simpler. Far from simple, it was still complicated, but a lot easier.

  He smiled self-deprecatingly at the compliment, and I wondered if that’s what I looked like sometimes. Well, it appeared I’d gotten my sense of humor from him too.

  He said, “Unfortunately, we can’t help you with the crazy ones, they’ll be on the move, not hanging out where they grew up. There’ll also be a certain amount of families that have moved.”