Necromancer Legacy - 14. The British don't die

Cyan’s arguments were pretty convincing.

One: Riley was already dead, so this time Cyan didn’t have to kill anyone for Nick to bring them back.

Two: Riley actually wanted this. Cyan had already talked to him and everything. If Nick said no, he would feel like an asshole for taking that away from Riley—and by ‘that’ he meant being alive.

Three: Cyan said that since Riley was someone who had been through a lot—Purgatory and Hell, according to Cyan—and who already knew about the whole necromancer thing, there probably wouldn’t be side effects. Which was good.

Four: Cyan kept saying how it would make Nick stronger somehow.

Five: Riley got bonus points for hating Lucas and Liv and wanting them dead.

Still, Nick couldn’t believe he had let Cyan talk him into doing this.

They had taken a cab to Queens. Cyan had said he was too tired to teleport. Nick used the opportunity to ask him some questions about the whole teleportation thing. Cyan explained that Nick couldn’t teleport, say, from his apartment to Sasha’s place. He could only go from this world to Hell, and vice versa. So if Nick really wanted to use teleportation to go from point A to point B down here on good old Earth, he would have to stop by charming Hell in between.

Nick decided he had no problem with taking a cab; it was expensive, but Cyan insisted he would definitely pay him back—with what money, Nick didn’t know. They couldn’t talk much. Even if Nick used his phone so that the driver didn’t think he was talking to himself, their conversation topics weren’t exactly normal.

At some point Cyan had just curled up on the back seat like some big, lazy cat and slept with his head on Nick’s lap for the rest of the twenty minutes ride.

And now they stood behind some creepy crypt in the middle of Mount Olivet Cemetery. The few trees provided very little shade—and pretty much zero protection from inquiring eyes if anyone were to walk by and look their way.

Cyan had visited the niches and stolen the urn containing Riley’s remains. It was easy for Cyan, with the whole invisible thing. Nick had stayed away from that little stunt; he didn’t want to get caught and be labeled as an urn robber.

“Are we really doing this now?” Nick spoke in a low voice even though there was absolutely no one around. “In broad daylight? Shouldn’t we do this at night?”

“Why at night? What difference does it make?” asked Cyan.

“I don’t know.” Nick crossed his arms, looking from side to side nervously. “They always do this kind of thing at night in movies.”

“It’s fine. No one will come.”

“You don’t know that.”

“People visiting their loved ones’ graves all the time is also something you only see in movies.” Cyan placed his palm next to his mouth like he was telling a secret. “No one really does it,” he whispered.

“And on that cheerful note,” said Nick, “one more question. How on Earth am I supposed to put him back in his body… if there is no body?”

“It’s completely possible,” Cyan said firmly. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll figure it out.”

“Uh-huh.” Nick wasn’t convinced. He sighed. “Should we really be doing this? It feels kinda wrong. Why is Liv doing it anyway? I mean, does she get some kind of thrill out of it? Is she addicted to it now, or something?”

“There’s probably some of that,” Cyan admitted, “but that’s hardly the only reason. First of all, they want to make sure they beat us. To take a city from a reaper, you have to challenge that reaper into a fight. The winner gets the city. The old fashioned way is one on one, but there are no rules. If they want to bring fifty friends, they can,” Cyan said.

Then, he added, “There is one other possible reason. I’ve heard of necromancers doing what Olivia is doing right now. She might be after power and social status. Think about it. She has the ability to walk among humans, and no one knows the truth. She could climb the social ladder and make it all the way to the top; surprisingly easy when loads of people adore you for no reason and are always ready to help.”

“We have to stop her; I think we’ve already established that.”

“Still, I’m glad we agree. Necromancers can be dangerous. You asked me about your father earlier. I heard Malachy was once reaper in an Aztec city. He pretended to be human and became one of the nobles. They worshipped him and did whatever he wanted. Until he got bored, killed all of them and stole their gold.”

“My demon father sure sounds charming,” Nick said.

“Never mind that. You should go get Riley. I’ll wait for you here.” Cyan went to lean against the stone wall of the crypt tiredly, the urn in his hands.

“Where is he?”

“In Hell.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “I know that, moron. Where exactly? I don’t have all day to look for him.”

Actually he did, since he had the day off. But he didn’t want to leave Cyan alone here too long. Nick wasn’t sure he believed him when he said his injury would heal.

“The party tower. I told him to wait for you there.”

Nick wanted to laugh. The party tower. Seriously.

“I’ll be right back.”

He let thoughts of blood fill his mind—not the most pleasant thing, but he had to do what he had to do. The ground seemed to tilt, and he was starting to lose his balance, so he lowered himself to the ground, putting one knee down. A red gleaming circle was spreading under him. The air seemed to darken all around, like dark smoke was rising. Nick closed his eyes, heart pounding, and he let himself slip through.

Under his boots he could feel the soft powdery snow. He opened his eyes and saw the world that looked like a black and white photograph; the tall, dark tower with the inky sky as its background, the pure, crisp white path on which he stood, with the two black strips of water licking both sides. And it was snowing, each flake, big and uniquely shaped, seemed to glimmer, lighting up the darkness so he could see even though there were no stars or moon above.

Nick shivered and started up the path to the black crystalline tower. There was no music coming from it this time. Only a heavy, eerie silence that he broke every time the snow crunched under his boots noisily.

Then he thought he heard some kind of rustling—like a disturbance in the air—coming from behind and he spun on his heel to take a look. He saw those black silhouettes; those elongated, deformed, contorted creatures that seemed to be made of shadows. There were three of them. Low moans came out of their mouthless faces.

Nick cursed himself for letting fear grip at his heart. He couldn’t let himself be afraid. What if fear was what attracted those things? How was he supposed to fight them off? Cyan should have given him his sword. He had nothing.

They can’t hurt you. Just ignore them and they’ll go away.

But they weren’t going away. They were approaching. Nick realized with a start that he could feel water licking at his feet. The water was rising up on both sides, drowning the path. It was so cold that it stung, like needles piercing his skin through his boots and jeans. In fact, it felt so strangely painful that he wasn’t sure if the black water was boiling hot or freezing cold. He tried to move but his feet wouldn’t listen.

Shit. This can’t happen. Cyan’s waiting for me. I’m supposed to get Riley and get out of here. Am I really this weak by myself?

One of the black shapes was almost on him.

“Nick? Are those guys bothering you?” A voice said behind him.

He recognized that voice from the other night; Riley. And then that big black wolfish dog ran past Nick, barking, and chasing the creatures away. Oh, wow, Nick thought, a barking dog chased them away, and he hadn’t even been able to move in their presence. That didn’t do much to boost his ego.

On the plus side, his feet weren’t stuck in that weird black water anymore. Because the water was gone, he realized as he looked down. Of course. He tripped as he was suddenly free and almost fell but Riley caught his arm.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, um,” he pulled away, and cleared his throat. “I just… they came out of nowhere.”

“Hey don’t worry about it. Happens to the best of us. Especially when we’re alone. Isn’t it insane how much more afraid we get when we’re by ourselves?” Riley slapped his shoulder. “That’s why we got to stick together.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Nick admitted, studying Riley’s appearance.

His coming-back-from-the-dead outfit was casual black jeans and a red and gray striped tee. Hauled over his shoulder was a heavy looking backpack. He smiled widely, his eyes brightening up. They were hazel, a few shades lighter than his skin.

“So are we doing this? I’m so excited. I never thought I’d get to go back to the real world.”

“Yeah,” Nick nodded, “we’re doing this. You might want to step closer to me, and—”

“Wait! I gotta say goodbye first.”

Nick understood what he meant when Koda trotted back toward them. Riley bent over to pet his ears, and the dog leaned into his touch.

“I didn’t see any other animals here,” Nick said.

Riley looked thoughtful. “You’re right. There aren’t many animals. But Koda just found me. And protected me. So I never thought of asking questions, and just considered myself really lucky.”

As he pet the dog some more, Riley’s eyes looked like they were starting to tear up.

“It’s okay,” Riley was saying to Koda, “we’ll find each other again some day.”

“We really ought to get going,” said Nick awkwardly. “Cyan’s waiting for us.”

“Of course, yeah, I’m sorry.” Riley wiped under his eyes, gathering himself up.

Nick had to admit that Koda seemed all miserable as he looked at them with his round brown eyes, his tail way down between his back legs. Now even Nick felt like crying.

“Take care, buddy,” Riley said as a last farewell to Koda.

Nick took Riley’s arms, and let his mind be filled with images of Mount Olivet Cemetery, making sure to think very precisely about the crypt where he had been standing with Cyan earlier. He figured thinking about Cyan might help, too, so he pictured him in his mind—holding the urn, waiting for them.

It took a minute or two, and Nick was aware of Riley sending him doubtful glances, but Nick didn’t lose his focus, and it worked. The universe shifted and the sunlight of the real world enveloped them with its comforting warmth.

Nick felt a bit strung out afterwards. He supposed this means of transportation wasn’t exactly costless—not for the body, anyway. Cyan was still there. He looked sickly pale and weak but he was there. Nick stepped closer to him as that black smoke faded, with Riley tagging along. Nick whipped his head around to make sure the section of the cemetery was still empty. There was only silence, except for the wind rustling the early spring leaves in the trees and a couple of birds chasing one another.

“Well done,” Cyan said.

He leaned heavily against the crypt, which was covered in vines and looked like it hadn’t been tended to in a while. Cyan handed him the urn, and Nick took it. But he still had no idea how to do this.

Riley looked shocked. “My family had me cremated? Man, hold on a second. Are you sure this is going to work? What if I just end up a pile of ashes? No offense, but he,” Riley pointed at Cyan, “didn’t tell me about this; if this is too risky, I’d still rather be in Hell. At least I have my dog, and my job at Raven’s club.”

Cyan sighed. “Riley, relax. Just look at the sunlight, and all the green—the colors, the brightness. Don’t you want to be alive again?”

“Yeah, but…” Riley looked very troubled all of a sudden. There seemed to be something amiss. “I can’t feel it,” he whispered, looking down at his hands, “I can’t feel the sun.”

“You’ll be able to, once Nicky’s finished,” Cyan reassured him. “If you don’t trust him, it’s not going to work. So just trust him.”

“Okay,” Riley said, nodding firmly, “okay, Nick, I trust you. Let’s do this.”

Right.

Nick reflexively began to stall for time: “Great. That’s great. I appreciate your trust, I really do…”

But Riley was distracted. “What happened to you, anyway?” he asked Cyan. “Partied a little too hard last night, or what?”

“Yes, precisely. Too much booze. I was out of control, really.”

Cyan coughed. He was trembling. He clutched Nick’s jacket tighter around himself. Cyan’s breathing was wheezy, and his eyes were bloodshot. It didn’t look like a hangover. It looked like he was dying.

But Riley laughed. “I hear ya. Happens to the best of us.” Then he turned to Nick and slapped his shoulder. Nick flinched. “So, Nick,” Riley said, “are we doing this or not?”

Crap.

“Sure, I need to, um, concentrate,” he improvised, “concentrate on the urn. So give me some space, and be quiet, and—”

“Oh my God, you have no idea how to do this, do you?” Riley pointed an accusing finger at him.

Okay, seriously. How come Riley didn’t believe Nick, but believed Cyan when he said he was just hungover?

Riley’s gaze flicked to Cyan. “Your necromancer doesn’t even know how to do his job! Why’d you tell me he could do it?”

Cyan swallowed. He looked extremely sick, holding his chest with one hand.

“He can do it. Just trust him, all right? He’ll figure it out. I’m just… I’ll be over there, throwing up, if you need me.” He staggered to a tree and leaned against it with a trembling hand.

This was stupid. Cyan wanted him to bring some poor dead bloke back to life using a god damn pile of ashes, and Nick didn’t know what the hell to do, and Cyan was probably dying, and—

‘Let me help you.’

Wait. Who said that? Not Cyan—he was busy trying to gather all of his hair so he wouldn’t throw up on it. And not Riley, either. Riley just stared at Nick with increasingly suspicious brown eyes.

No, that voice came from within.

‘Let me take over. Just a little,’ the voice said.

Nick was desperate. He was worried about Cyan. He was worried about being an incompetent jerk and disappointing Riley. So when he felt a powerful, strong energy stirring inside him, making him feel good and confident as it spread across his body, he didn’t wish to fight it.

He let it take over, whatever ‘it’ was.

It reminded Nick of that moment when a drug—the powerful stimulant kind—finally kicks in. He felt a rush. And it wasn’t just physical; it was like a door was unlocked in his mind.

He knew what to do.

“Come over here.” Nick beckoned Riley to step closer.

“Okay…”

Nick then shoved the urn in Riley’s hands. “Hold this.”

“But—”

“Quiet.” He held Riley’s shoulders.

The air around them darkened subtly, like an unsubstantial gray film was slowly covering them both, blocking the sunlight.

“Are we teleporting back?” asked Riley, frowning.

“No. This is different. I’m linking our energies. Stop worrying so much.”

“Linking our what?”

“Didn’t you hear what Cyan said before? If you don’t trust me, it won’t work.”

“But just moments ago you—”

“Riley. Can’t you feel it?”

Nick couldn’t help but smile. There was so much energy inside him, coming in unstoppable, powerful waves; it felt almost euphoric. He was giving it to Riley. All of it.

For a moment Riley just stared and blinked, but then he gasped and held onto Nick’s arm with a hand, his other arm cradling the urn to his chest.

“Holy shit. Yeah I can feel it. Hey, Nick, don’t stop… I think I need more.”

Well this wasn’t weird.

“Be quiet,” Nick said.

“Yes, sir.” But then: “Hey, this thing,” Riley gazed down at the urn, “it’s like, it’s getting warm, or something.”

“I need you to drink it,” Nick told him then.

“Come again?”

“Drink it.”

“But—”

Riley interrupted himself as he opened the urn; it should have been difficult to open—or even sealed, probably—but it wasn’t. Riley looked inside, and his eyes widened.

“Is that… blood?”

Nick said, “You know what to do.”

“Yes, sir.”

His hands a bit shaky and hesitant, Riley tilted the urn and started drinking the blood. He drank it like he was parched and craved it, and he didn’t stop until he had absorbed all of it. Then he dropped the urn and fell back onto the ground, panting.

“I just need to… sit down, for a moment.”

The darkness was dissipating, and all of a sudden it was broad daylight again. Nick looked around at the quiet cemetery, the trees, the thumb stones, the flowers. And he sort of just snapped out of it.

Holy crap. What was that? It was like he was a different person.

Riley was still sitting in the grass, seemingly fascinated with his own hand.

“I can feel the sun,” he whispered, “and the wind. I think it worked!”

“Yeah,” Nick said, “it worked.”

He just knew.

And suddenly he remembered Cyan. He looked to the side and found him collapsed next to the tree. Nick ran to him and fell to his knees. It didn’t look like he’d been throwing up. He was just passed out. His face was livid, almost grayish.

Nick clutched his shoulder. “Cyan? Wake up, okay? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me how.”

He moaned, cracking his blue eyes open, and Nick felt a wave of relief.

“Don’t worry,” Cyan said in a rasped voice, “I’m not dead. Not yet.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want that to happen.”

“That’s sweet.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Just tell me what to do, you idiot! Maybe we should go to Sasha.”

“Stop with that. Sasha can’t help me.”

“Who can?”

Cyan made a face. “Raven…”

“Then we’ll go see him.”

“No,” Cyan whined, “I don’t want to.”

Nick sighed, and brushed Cyan’s hair away from his face. “Well, you haven’t got a choice, mate. Do you want to die?”

“If… If I could just,” he panted, his hand grasping at the ground like he needed something to hold on to, “find another way… I don’t want to see him.”

Riley stepped closer. His legs were still a bit wobbly, but he looked like he was getting stronger.

“What’s wrong with him? Really?” Riley asked.

“Got stabbed with a higher demon blade,” Nick said.

“How is he still alive? Those are extremely poisonous. Instant kill, normally.”

“Well he’s not dead yet.” Nick looked up. “What happens if he dies? What happens when demons die, anyway?”

Riley seemed to shudder. “One way ticket to Purgatory, usually. But we can never be sure. Sometimes, when demons die, we never see them again,” Riley stressed. “Ever.”

“I’m taking him to Raven.”

Cyan was too weak to protest right now.

Riley nodded. “Raven should know what to do.”

“Here.” Nick took out his phone and typed in his address. “Take a cab and go to this address. Forty Ninth West. Hell’s Kitchen; yes, I know, the irony.”

He gave his cell to Riley, who seemed fascinated by it. For a moment Nick worried that perhaps Riley had been dead a really long time and didn’t even know what cell phones were.

But he just said, “Whoa, this phone is so… thin.”

“Yeah.” Nick gave some money to Riley for the cab. Damn, he was spending a lot of dough on cabs today, for someone with the ability to teleport. “If that’s not enough find Shane’s number in my phone and ask him to cover the rest. Tell him I’ll pay him back. He’s my roommate. Explain everything and he’ll let you in. Got it?”

“I got it, sir!”

“Stop calling me sir. It’s weird. Just go.”

As Riley turned around, Nick noticed he had a small tattoo across the back of his neck. It looked like numbers but Nick couldn’t quite read them properly as Riley walked away. Nick looked down at Cyan.

“Where do I find Raven?”

“The tower,” Cyan breathed.

Nick grabbed Cyan’s arm and slung it around his neck, before scooping him up in his arms and getting back up. Nick wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline rush from bringing Riley back, or if Cyan just wasn’t heavy, but it wasn’t much of an effort to carry him.

“The party tower?”

“No, the other tower…”

“I don’t know what the ‘other tower’ looks like.”

“Just think about Raven. Should work. Those things,” Cyan whispered as his eyes closed, “don’t always have to be complicated, Nicky. Don’t over think it. You’re more powerful than you think.”

His head rolled against Nick’s shoulder and his body went limp.

Shit.

So he thought about Raven. Should work? Screw that—it had to work.

Nick squeezed his eyes shut and focused. He remembered Raven from the party: tall, handsome in a steel-blue-eyes-and-chiseled-jaw kind of way, black hair, pale skin, ridiculous, massive, navy-colored wings…

This time, when the magical-teleporting-smoke stuff started to dissipate, Nick stood in what looked like an office with Cyan still passed out in his arms. Several filing cabinets lined the walls. There was a tinted black window, and a glass table in the middle of the room with glass chairs to match. It was super weird, actually; those chairs looked like they would shatter the second someone sat in them.

All in all a successful teleportation: Nick stood face to face with Raven. But Raven wasn’t alone. There was another man in the room.

It seemed they had been arguing. They interrupted themselves and stared as Nick showed up. Raven looked the same as Nick remembered, except he had no wings this time, and he was fully dressed, though he left his shirt unbuttoned. A few sheathed knives and daggers were fastened in his large belt, against his hips.

The other guy wore an elegant, flawless black suit. He held his head high, his expression calculating as he stared Nick down. They both had this ageless thing about them. It was a bit freaky, like their age could be anywhere between twenty and forty. They had no wrinkles or anything, but their eyes were the eyes of men that had been through a lot—that had been through too much.

The suit-wearing man said, “You let people teleport into your office unannounced, Raven? In the middle of an important meeting? I am appalled.” He had a French accent.

Appalled? Who says that?

Raven waved him off. “Just get out, Louis. Meeting adjourned.”

Ah, so this charming individual is Louis. Previous leader of hell whom my demon father Malachy has killed.

Either Nick was starting to keep up, or he would have a really good story to tell the doctors when he woke up in the psych ward.

Louis didn’t leave. He just stood very still, hands joined together, elegant and stern.

“What’s this?” Raven asked Nick. “What’s wrong with Cyan? What happened? Put him down on the table.”

“You mean you don’t know?” Nick snapped. “Wow, this is rich. He saved your life is what happened.”

Nick’s arm muscles were starting to protest. So he went to rest Cyan’s motionless body on that fragile looking glass table. The table didn’t break, so that was good.

Raven whispered, “What? But my friends said no one had been harmed.”

“Well your friends left out some details.”

Raven raked his fingers through his black hair, looking troubled. “Leave, Louis. Now.” He didn’t sound too merciful.

“But this is the one,” Louis indicated Cyan, “who cut Lucas’s wing, am I correct? We can’t allow such barbaric behavior. He needs to be punished.”

“Your dear Lucas,” Raven retorted, “is the one who tried to kill me in the first place. In my sleep. Is that not ‘barbaric’ enough for you?”

“You have no proof,” Louis chimed, his voice annoyingly calm. “Clearly your friends made that up since they seem to have something personal against Lucas, which is frankly quite unprofessional.”

“Shut up, both of you.” Nick unzipped the jacket to reveal Cyan’s injury.

It was getting worst, with the skin all swelled up and angry around it. Cyan’s breathing was shallow.

“He’s dying, Raven. Do something about it.”

Raven faltered when he saw the wound. He glared at Louis.

“If you don’t leave this instant I swear to God I am sending you directly to the Purgatory Fires.”

Apparently Raven believed in God. And perhaps so did Louis because he held up his hands in surrender.

“Very well. I will see you soon,” Louis said simply.

It didn’t take Louis much time to teleport. Either he was a natural, or he’d had a lot of practice leaving places in a hurry.

Raven waved off the black smoke with a look of distaste in his cold blue eyes. He rushed to Cyan’s side and Nick stepped back. He watched as Raven dropped hesitant fingers on Cyan’s wound.

Cyan winced and woke up. “Oh, no, not you…”

“’M’afraid so,” said Raven.

His fingers climbed up to Cyan’s neck as he saw the bruise there.

“I’m going to kill Lucas.”

“Don’t bother,” Cyan tried to laugh but coughed instead. “He’d just come back on us.”

“No, he wouldn’t.” Raven’s eyes glinted. “I have my ways.”

“Scary,” Cyan teased.

“So,” Nick stepped in, feeling somewhat annoyed, “can you help him or not?”

Raven touched Cyan’s tangled hair. “How are you even still alive?”

“The British don’t die; look at Mick Jagger. Paul McCartney. Ol’ beautiful bastards are still rock’n’rolling and flipping us reapers the finger.”

While Cyan rambled, Raven dragged up one of his knives and cut open his own wrist. Nick cringed.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Raven let his blood drop on Cyan’s lips. Cyan licked it.

“Cyan once told me vampires don’t exist,” Nick said, “but right now I feel like I’m in the wrong show.”

“My blood happens to be the only antidote for the poison laced within my white dagger,” Raven explained as Cyan grabbed his arm, clearly craving more of the stuff.

Nick looked away, feeling a bit dizzy.

“This is a well-kept secret, and I want it to stay that way,” Raven warned, “so I’d appreciate it if you restrained from telling anyone about this.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Nick said, “I promise.”

 

***

 

Nick got back home in the late afternoon to find that Shane and Riley were already best friends. They were in Shane’s bedroom eating pizza. Riley sat on the bed among the colorful pillows and My Little Pony plushies and he watched Shane play some League of Legends. They were talking about how they should get a laptop for Riley so that he could play too.

“Seriously?” Nick said as he watched them from the doorway.

“What’s up?” Riley smiled at him.

“You came back from the dead today, and you’re watching my roommate play online games?”

“What’s wrong with that?” Shane asked without looking up from the screen, his index finger clicking away like his life depended on it.

Nick stared at Riley. “Don’t you want to get out there? Walk in the streets. See the city. The people. I don’t know.”

Riley scratched his cornrowed hair. “Yeah, I want to do all those things, but… It’s scary out there, man. I need to take things slow. Could you guys let me stay over for a bit, just until I figure things out?”

“I already told him he could stay.” Shane looked up at Nick for a half-second, then his eyes darted back to the screen. His finger never stopped clicking.

Nick’s voice softened. “Course you can stay. Get some rest. We’ll figure things out later.”

“You’re the one who looks like he needs some rest,” Riley said before engulfing a generous bite of pizza.

Nick didn’t deny it. He felt completely drained. The day’s events were all a blur making his head hazy.

“Hey, is Cyan gonna be okay?” Riley asked.

“Yes.”

Riley smiled. “That’s good.”

Nick left the guys alone with their pizza and their League of Legends. He crawled to his bedroom. After closing the door Nick leaned on it for a moment, closing his eyes. Everything was just always ups and downs these days. It was too much. Adrenaline rushes followed by crashes, insane thrills and then the inevitable comedowns, and the tiredness.

He went to collapse on his bed. The pure, dark blue sliver of sky he could see as he looked out the window made him remember his dream with Shay. Well, it hadn’t really been a dream, he supposed. More like an out of body experience.

Nick tried to fall asleep, but something kept nagging at the back of his mind. It made him feel restless and whenever he closed his eyes he thought he could see it. That pattern Shay had been tracing on the dusty rock, on top of that mountain. Shay had been trying to tell him something, or show him something, Nick was sure of it.

So he closed his eyes and he focused on it, chasing away all other intrusive thoughts. It was the strangest thing; the more Nick concentrated, the clearer the pattern got, as though he was looking at an optical illusion inside his brain. And finally those weird lines Shay had traced in the dust seemed to make sense, even though in the ‘dream’ itself Nick hadn’t been able to see it properly. Shay had been drawing someone’s face. Nick had no idea how it was possible to draw someone’s face so precisely in a bit of dust, but he supposed he shouldn’t question a fox-spirit-guardian-angel dude.

Nick recognized the face.

It was that guy. That guy who had showed up at Love Needles with his stupid useless questions about tattoos, like if they were really permanent and if he should go for a swim right after getting it.

Nick sat up straight. He wasn’t tired anymore.

So stupid-questions-guy was Sasha’s stalker. The supernatural thief. Nick didn’t have a name but at least he knew what his guy looked like.

And suddenly something occurred to him. Well, two things. But they were linked, like pieces of a puzzle coming together.

He remembered what Shay had said:

There’s a man—a thief—who’s hurt Sasha before.

They take supernatural powers from their owners forcefully.

And something Sasha had said at the party:

There was one other person. Last year. But I wanted to forget about that, you know? I really wanted to forget about it. I wanted to pretend like it had never happened. I was lying to myself.

Nick’s heart was beating fast.

How exactly had this guy ‘forcefully taken’ supernatural powers from Sasha?

If Nick was right about this…

He would find this guy. And he would kill him. Then he would follow him to Hell and kill him again if he had to.

“Cyan,” he said out loud, and he waited.

Seconds later, the reaper was sitting on the windowsill. He still looked tired. But he looked better.

“What is it?”

Nick said, “I want you to train me.”