Necromancer Legacy - 18. Stalling for time

Right. So it was the middle of the night, and Nick had been getting these really useless telepathic messages from Sasha, and it was driving him insane.

“How am I supposed to help him?”

He paced back and forth in his bedroom, the old wooden floor creaking underfoot, while Cyan sat calmly atop the desk, legs dangling, leafing through one of Nick’s books about screenwriting.

“Your characters need to have a backstory. Your characters have a past and a future,” Cyan read. Then looked up. “How much did you pay for this book?”

Nick ignored him.

“A basement. He’s in a basement.”

Cyan closed the book with a snap and tossed it aside on the desk. Instead he gazed up at the wall, examining a tattoo design that Nick had recently printed out and pinned on there. It was a fox tribal design.

“This is cute.”

“A god damn basement, Cy. That could be anywhere.”

“Nicky calm down. Breathe.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down.” He stopped pacing and pointed a finger at nothing in particular. “I knew that Hazel chick was bad news! I knew it!”

“No,” said Cyan, “you did not. You were jealous because he was spending time with her, and not with you. And they have loads of things in common.”

Nick glared. “Like what?”

“They’re both high school seniors. They’re both gifted with a supernatural talent that allows them to transform into canines every full moon, for starters.”

“So what? I have stuff in common with Sasha, too,” Nick replied.

“Like what?” Cyan looked amused.

Nick crossed his arms, darting his eyes around his bedroom like his house plants or the quotes decorating the walls would be revelatory. The ceiling lamp’s artificial light hurt his eyes.

“Like. We’re both, um—shut up. Can we focus here?”

“We could try a locator spell.”

“A what now?”

Cyan shrugged. “Your mother was a witch, wasn’t she? You might have some of her powers. That might be partly why you were able to hear Sasha’s messages. It’s worth a shot.”

“I’ll try anything.”

“Call your minions. We can use their energy. It’s time you boys start working together, if we’re ever going to have a shot at defeating Lucas.”

“Let’s not talk about that right now. And for the last time, do not call them my minions. It’s disturbing. It’s not like they’re my servants or anything. Shane! Riley!” he shouted. “Get your butts over here right now.”

And immediately, rustling sounds could be heard from the living room and from the other bedroom as the boys simultaneously stumbled out of bed, threw clothes on, and rushed across the hallway to try and show up at Nick’s door faster than the other, out of breath, their hair sleep-ruffled and their eyes still blinking.

Cyan snorted with laughter.

“What’s wrong?” Shane asked urgently.

“Why’re you freaking out?” Riley added.

Shane pushed Riley out of the way and stepped in the room. “Can I get you anything? A nice cup of tea?”

“Or coffee?” Riley offered.

Shane shook his head in disbelief. “Coffee? In the middle of the night?” He turned to Nick again. “You look really tense. Do you want me to run you a bath? Or I could give you a massage.” He made to grab Nick’s shoulders.

Nick stopped him. “I don’t even take baths I shower you know that.”

“Yeah Shane,” Riley arched an eyebrow, “ever read that book He’s Just Not That Into You?”

“Dude,” Shane replied, waving a finger in the air, “I don’t know how long you’ve been dead, but no one makes that joke anymore.”

“Guys,” Nick snapped, “shut up. I just need your help for a spell, all right?”

They went quiet, looking sheepish and meek.

Shane asked, “What kind of spell?”

“A spell to find Sasha. He’s in trouble and we need to help him.”

Their expressions changed. They looked annoyed. Now, this was something Nick had noticed before. For some reason, Shane and Riley didn’t seem to like Sasha very much.

Cyan leaped off the desk.

“Gentlemen. Stop being jealous of Sasha. You know Nicky would do the same for you. And besides, Riley, don’t forget that Sasha saved your life once. You owe him.”

“The reaper’s right,” Riley said gingerly.

“So what do I do?” Nick asked Cyan.

“You can start by lighting some nice candles,” said Cyan.

“Fuck the candles,” Nick said. “I don’t have time for candles.”

“All right, all right,” Cyan put up a hand in surrender, “no candles. Let’s just all sit together in a circle.”

So they did. Cyan went to turn off the lights, then came back to sit with them on the floor, in between Nick and Riley. The moonlight slipped in softly from the window; a slanted, luminous paleness outlined against the dark bedroom. It gave Cyan’s pale blue eyes an ethereal glow.

Something occurred to Nick. “Hey, can’t we just teleport to him?”

Cyan shook his head. “We don’t know where he is, so it wouldn’t work.”

“But that time you were poisoned, I just thought about Raven and that worked.”

Cyan hesitated. “Hell is quite different. It’s easier. Bendable. But to escape Hell and teleport back to Earth, it takes more energy, and you have to know exactly where you’re headed. You know this.”

Right. “It’s just so frustrating,” Nick sighed.

Shane sat cross-legged on Nick’s other side. “Can’t you tell Nick’s upset?” Shane told Cyan. “Can’t we hurry up and do this spell thingy?”

“Do you have something of Sasha’s?” Cyan asked Nick. “Anything at all?”

Nick drew the chain from under his shirt. “I’m wearing his necklace right now.”

Cyan gave a slight nod. “That’s perfect. Put it in the center.”

Nick untied the necklace and placed it on the floor.

“Let’s hold hands,” Cyan instructed. He took Nick’s hand, and the others followed suit. “Nicky. Have you been doing meditation, like I told you to?”

“A little,” he lied. Come on. Who had time for that?

“Remember when you heard Sasha’s voice. That was telepathy, but wasn’t it like you could feel his presence?”

“Yeah,” Nick frowned, “it was like he was right in front of me for a moment. I could hear his voice really clearly. But then it was gone.”

“I need you to close your eyes,” Cyan instructed, “and pretend Sasha is right in front of you again. You need to connect with him first if you want to find him. You need to focus your mind on your goal. Nothing else. Do you understand?”

“Not really.”

“Try it anyway,” Cyan said.

Nick closed his eyes.

He thought of Sasha—he thought of green eyes and tousled hair and the grin that could make his heart skip a beat.

But Nick’s thoughts kept bringing him back to his bedroom. The floor was uncomfortable. Shane’s hand felt dry and a bit rough—Nick ought to lend him some moisturizer. Cyan’s hand felt softer. Why did they have to hold hands, anyway? Nick heard Riley yawn, though he audibly tried to stifle it. Shane cleared his throat. In the apartment upstairs, someone was moving furniture around. This late at night. Seriously. Their upstairs neighbors sucked.

“You’re not focusing, mate.” Cyan’s voice cut across Nick’s thoughts.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Nick snapped.

“Keep your eyes closed,” Cyan said.

Nick kept his eyes closed.

“Relax your jaw.” Cyan’s voice was very calm. “And relax your shoulders. And your eyebrows,” Cyan added, and Nick did as he was told. “Stop frowning. Breathe in deeply, and breathe out completely. Do you want to help Sasha or not? That’s better. Once you’ve let go of all the tension in your body, you can try again.”

Nick tried again.

He thought about the necklace. How Sasha had tied it around his neck that morning, without asking, without saying anything, without taking no for an answer.

And Sasha’s voice echoed across his mind. Vulnerable. Frightened:

‘Nick… I really don’t think they just want to talk...’

Minutes passed. And passed.

Nick lost track of time.

Sasha’s words became a mantra. They replayed in his head over and over, rhythmically, like a broken record. Until there was nothing else, and Nick was sucked into a deeper state of consciousness.

‘… really don’t think they just want to talk...’

‘… don’t think they just want to talk...’

‘… just want to talk...’

Eventually he saw trees. Woods. It was dark and the moon shone upon the branches, leaves and flowers. The wind was light and smelled of spring and night time. But Sasha wasn’t here. He needed to keep looking.

Nick saw Lenox Avenue. He glimpsed a white arrow sign that read ‘One Way’. And then a building. 110^th Street. A tall building, all beige with columns and an arched doorway. With wrought iron fences in front of it and small trees planted at regular intervals in the paved stone sidewalk. And then—

“I got it,” Nick panted, his eyes snapping open. His head throbbed, but he shook it off. “I’ve got an address.”

Three pairs of eyes stared at him in the dimness. They weren’t holding hands anymore; the others looked like they’d been moving around a bit.

“What is it?” Nick asked. He realized his throat felt dry. And his body felt all sore.

“Nothing,” Shane said carefully, “just… you were out of it for an hour. We were really worried.”

An hour!

“I didn’t think it was that long…”

Nick staggered up to his feet but his legs protested and he really wasn’t steady. The floor seemed to be tilting under him, threatening to send him sprawling. Cyan held his arm to keep him from falling.

“Maybe you should lie down,” Riley suggested.

But he was shaking his head. “No. No. We need to go right now. They could be hurting him right now.”

“Calm down,” Cyan said, “if you were able to locate him, that means he’s still alive. You should jot down the address, lest you forget. Doing magic for the first time could make your mind very fragile.”

Why does he always mention those things after?

“I won’t,” Nick said, “I won’t forget… We need to…”

But then he saw black. And it engulfed him.

***

At the crack of dawn, Sasha was yanked awake by the transformation. He was still in that basement, and it was really dark, but he knew the sun was coming up outside because his body was changing forcefully, whether he liked it or not. His bones snapped back into place and it hurt so much that he couldn’t breathe. The fur disappeared completely, making him feel vulnerable and exposed, and cold. His eyes were dry and they burned so he couldn’t keep them open too long.

They had restrained him in those chains, tied up to the wall. The chains were rusty and bloody, and they were tightly secured around his waist, neck, arms and legs. He realized with a start that the chains were bloody because of him. That was his blood. Those wolves hadn’t gone easy on him with their claws and fangs. His throat hurt so badly; that particular bite was pretty deep, he could tell without even seeing it. Every time he swallowed, the pain was excruciating as the chain irritated the broken skin.

Sasha tried to assess the damage on the rest of his body even though he couldn’t see too well in the dark with his human eyes. He’d been bitten pretty roughly in his ribs, too, and arms and legs. It was still bleeding; the transformation had reopened the wounds. He let out a groan as he tried to sit up against the cement wall. Everything hurt. Movements were difficult because of the after effects of that sedative. His muscles wouldn’t obey.

Eventually he managed to sit in a rattling of chains. He looked up as he heard footsteps coming toward him. And he saw Jackson. He looked all nice and clean and a long white lab coat covered his clothes. His short blonde hair was combed back. Ever since his first time seeing the siblings at the coffee shop, Sasha had been struck by the resemblance between them. He now knew Jackson was older than Hazel, but they could have passed as twins; same light hair and eyes, perfectly oval face, fine-boned nose.

It seemed there was something in Jackson’s coat pocket, but Sasha couldn’t see what it was.

“What do you want?” Sasha said hoarsely.

His throat felt like sandpaper and that neck bite hurt so much that for a moment the basement started spinning and he almost passed out again. He tried to fold his legs in a way that would hide some of his nakedness.

“It’s simple, really.” Jackson started explaining. “My father—or I should say my pack leader—wants to do a bit of an experiment. All we ask for is your cooperation.”

“Cooperation for what?” Sasha said tiredly.

Jackson sighed shortly. “At first my parents thought it would be very simple. Surely you would date my sister and one thing leading to another…” He waved with a hand as he stepped forward. “But, we quickly realized that wasn’t going to happen, because you have other… preferences.”

Sasha’s ears pricked. “Wait a second. You guys are angry because I’m not dating Hazel?”

“I wouldn’t say angry. More like annoyed. My parents did want you to date her. Mostly they wanted you to make her pregnant,” he explained.

What the hell?

“We’re seventeen. That’s crazy.”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Clearly you don’t know anything. It’s common for werewolves to start having children very young. Almost one child out of two will not survive their first transformation. So if we want to maintain our bloodlines, we don’t have a choice.”

“But why me?” Sasha asked nervously. “I’m not even a werewolf.”

“Precisely. Werefoxes are very rare.”

“Fox spirits,” Sasha muttered.

Jackson ignored him. “Your kind has very particular abilities. My parents are interested in those abilities, and they want her to give birth to a hybrid.”

As Jackson stepped closer, Sasha crawled away, rattling his chains. He leaned back against the cement wall like he wanted to melt into it.

“Okay, that is messed up on so many levels. We’re not lab rats!”

And now Jackson was taking out medical gloves and an empty plastic cup from his pocket.

“Oh, no. No way. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Please,” Jackson replied, “don’t look so shocked. I don’t like this anymore than you do. I’m just doing what needs to be done. And I assure you it wasn’t my idea. I don’t relish having a little nephew or niece that might have your… genes. But,” he sighed, “this is what my parents want. So honestly, let’s just get it over with, and then you’ll be free to go.”

Sasha stared at him. “They’re using their own daughter for experiment? That’s horrible.” Stalling for time was his only option right now.

“That’s none of your business.”

“I’m sorry but I think it’s my business if this is gonna be my kid. I’ll be the father. That’s no way to treat me.”

Jackson took a step back and studied him. “So you’re saying you’ll do it willingly?”

“No, I’m not saying that. I mean,” he cleared his throat, and winced at the pain, but went on anyway, “I mean, maybe. You didn’t exactly give me and Hazel much time to get to know each other. I actually really liked her. You should just—”

“Liar,” said Jackson harshly, making Sasha start. “You don’t like my sister. I’ve seen you with that demon kid. Nicholas Russell. My father says he’s dangerous.”

“He’s not a demon,” Sasha said defensively, then caught himself. “I mean, yeah, he’s half-demon, I guess. And we’re just friends, by the way. I don’t even like him that much. We’re more like acquaintances, really. Again, I’m sure we could really hit it off with your sister, if you just give us a chance. Wouldn’t that be a better way?”

“Whatever. You’re a terrible liar.” Jackson was putting on the medical gloves. That wasn’t good.

Sasha swallowed, and it tasted like blood. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“All that stuff about not liking Nicholas. You think I didn’t hear your pathetic little mental plea to him earlier? ‘Nick I need you, but please don’t get hurt…’ That was cute.”

Sasha’s face flushed in pure humiliation, so much that it was almost physically painful. So much for stalling for time.

“Let’s get this over with,” Jackson concluded, holding up the little cup. “Think you can do this by yourself?”

Sasha glared, considering the medical gloves. What exactly was that bastard implying?

“Stay away from me,” Sasha hissed.

“Then by all means get started,” said Jackson.

But Sasha was saved then. By a metallic door that got unlocked and pushed open in the opposite corner of the basement. Sasha narrowed his eyes, trying to see who his savior was. They approached with quick, light steps as Jackson straightened up and stared at the newcomer through the darkness. Sasha felt a wave of relief as he saw the black clothed lithe frame and long blonde hair.

Sasha highly doubted anyone had ever been so happy to see a reaper before.

“Get me out of here,” Sasha said, gripping and pulling at his chains with a metallic rattling sound.

Cyan stepped forward, coming out of the shadows completely. His hood was on, smooth blond hair coming out of it on both sides, pale blue eyes gleaming in its shadow.

“Sure thing, little fox.” Always with that exaggerated British accent.

“Who are you?” Jackson asked angrily.

“I’m a dark angel, and your worst nightmare,” Cyan said with a flourish. “Nicky sends his best regards. He couldn’t come himself, you see, but I owe him a favor so here I am. Plus I can be invisible, which makes it a tad more practical to sneak into the top secret Snow family werewolf lair.” He winked at Jackson.

“You think I’m afraid of you?” Jackson said dismissively.

“Oh, you should be,” Cyan replied, “since Nicky gave me the permission to kill anyone who hurt the little fox. And,” Cyan raked his eyes over Sasha, “he looks hurt. So, any last words, werewolf?”

“What are you talking about? You think you can kill me?” Jackson started to take off his white coat, like he was getting ready to fight.

Cyan examined his black nails.

“Course I can. This is my job, mate.”

What happened next startled both Jackson and Sasha; Cyan moved too fast for the eye to follow. Before Jackson could make a move, Cyan was behind him, one arm around his neck. Jackson immediately looked paralyzed with fear.

“I had a dagger,” Cyan said in Jackson’s ear, “but I think Nicky’s strange roommate stole it from me. Anyway, I can still kill you. What would you prefer? Heart attack? Suffocation? Aneurism? I can do pretty much any death. Though I charge extra for opiates overdose.”

“Stop,” said Sasha suddenly, sitting up in a crouch and pulling at his chains. “Don’t kill him. Let’s just go.”

Cyan dropped Jackson, who fell to his knees.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Sasha said tiredly.

Jackson was an asshole, but he looked terrified and humiliated right now, and that was good enough for Sasha.

Cyan nodded and bent over to search Jackson’s coat. He found the keys for the cuffs and came to untie Sasha.

“Hey,” Jackson said in a defeated voice as he looked up at them, “I’m sorry. About everything. I was just obeying orders, but… You’re not who I thought you were, Sasha. I was sure you would let him kill me. But you didn’t. Maybe you should’ve.”

“Just tell Hazel that I’m sorry,” Sasha said. “I’m sorry she has such a shitty family.”

“We’re teleporting,” Cyan said simply as he helped him up.

Sasha was alarmed. “Wait—”

“Relax, foxy. I know you don’t want Nicky to see you like this. I ain’t an idiot. But you do need to see him. If you two spend one more day apart, you’ll both go completely mental. We’ll just make a little stop to my crypt before heading to Nicky’s apartment. Trust me,” he said and the world seemed to blur around them, the darkness becoming even thicker.

Sasha felt himself becoming very light, and he was overwhelmed with dizziness for a moment. Then his feet found the floor again.

He stood on a large, intricate Turkish rug, all dark red and violet. The furniture was handcrafted dark wood, and a few candles were lit atop the desks. Sasha saw an alcove with stacks of fluffy black and white blankets on the floor, and then another alcove with swords of all sizes, shapes and colors hung against the wall.

“You should feel lucky,” Cyan said, crossing over to the bookshelves lining one of the smooth black walls. “I don’t take just anyone here. Music?” There was a radio in between stacks of old-looking books, and Cyan pressed play without waiting for Sasha’s answer.

The tiny radio looked like a relic from another time. And Sasha recognized the tune from that time a female friend had dragged him to a silly nineties’ music party back in junior high.

“Kylie Minogue?”

Cyan beamed. “I love her.”

Typical.

“I’m kind of bleeding here,” Sasha said, swallowing against a dry throat. “Just thought I’d mention it. Also, can I borrow some clothes?”

Cyan ignored him—either that or he was really enthralled by Kylie’s voice. On the top shelf, he had a collection of glass jars full of odd-looking liquids. Cyan selected a very small one and took it to Sasha.

“Here, drink this.”

The liquid inside the jar was blackish. Suspicious, Sasha opened it and sniffed its contents. It smelled disgusting, like a skunk had sprayed in it. Sasha hesitated.

Cyan rolled his eyes. “It’ll make you all better. Just ignore the smell.”

“Easy for you to say,” Sasha said.

“Do you want to heal or not?”

Sasha looked up. “Why should I trust you?”

“Maybe because I just saved your life?” As Sasha hesitated still, Cyan added: “Oh, come on. Think about it. I need Nicky’s help, all right? I don’t want him to see you like this, and then be all distracted and go on some crazy werewolf killing spree.”

Fair enough. Sasha drank it. He couldn’t drain the whole thing, but he downed at least half, and then gave it back to Cyan.

The taste was absolutely revolting and it made him want to throw up, but he held it back and forced himself to breathe and keep it down. It was worth it, because immediately he started feeling the effects. Instead of hurting, his wounds started feeling tingly and a little itchy; they were starting to heal.

“This is amazing,” he said, looking down at the claw marks and bites on his arms that were slowly mending.

“Told ya,” Cyan shrugged. “Now come with me.”

They went to the back of the crypt and through an arched corridor carved in the black stone. Sasha thought he could hear the soothing sound of a waterfall in the distance.

Sasha shivered. Again, he asked: “Can I borrow some clothes from you?”

“Not yet.” Cyan said. “You’re filthy.”

“Well I just assumed you didn’t have a shower…”

Cyan smirked. “Nah, but I’ve got something better. Follow me.”

As they ventured further inside the depths of the corridor, the sound of the waterfall became louder. The stone was becoming damp as they walked quietly, Cyan showing him the way. They arrived to a nice, calm stream of water that went on in the darkness, beyond where Sasha’s eyes could see. The waterfall trickled down from an opening in the ground above. Only one thing reminded Sasha of where he truly was; the morning sunlight should have been shining, but instead the strange inky sky—Hell’s sky—stared at him as he looked up. The water seemed so nice, though. And it was warm, too, he realized as he inched his toes in.

Sasha took a breath and dived forward. He swam all the way to the waterfall, watching the flakes of dirt and blood melt away into the water, and closed his eyes. Sasha felt like the water cascading down on him washed away everything; the pain, the humiliation, the fear, the tension. It felt purifying.

“Thank you,” he called out to Cyan without opening his eyes. “This is great.”

“Thought you might like it,” came the reaper’s reply. “Take your time. Well, don’t take too long though. Nicky’s probably having a panic attack worrying about you an’ all.”

Right. Sasha had almost forgotten about Nick for a moment there. He had almost forgotten about everything, actually. That stuff Cyan had made him drink was pretty strong. It healed his wounds but it made him feel more relaxed, too. And that water was just so nice and warm. But Sasha wasn’t supposed to be here.

He was supposed to be in school right now. Though he often missed school on days following the full moon, and Gabriel didn’t mind. Transforming into an animal and then back to a human being seemed a good enough excuse to be too tired for class. But still. Instead of being in school he was hanging out with a dark angel in Hell. Sasha wasn’t sure Gabriel would approve.