Necromancer Legacy - 19. What writers write about

Sasha liked Nick’s bedroom. He found it endearing and quirky that Nick had so many plants. Five of them actually. Sasha really liked the one that rested on top of the dresser. The leaves were big and dark green and there was a really pretty white flower blooming in the middle.

Cyan had already left, clearly deciding it was better to leave them alone. Sasha had been on his own to explain everything to Nick—and he had, even though he was tired.

Nick looked angry.

“How can you be so calm right now?” Nick asked. His light brown eyes had a menacing glint in them. Sasha was starting to feel a little uneasy.

Outside the sky was clouded, and very little light slipped through the gray curtains. Sasha leaned against the wall as Nick closed in on him, pointing an accusing finger.

“You shouldn’t have trusted her!”

Sasha couldn’t really be angry at Nick, because he looked just as tired and worn out as Sasha felt, and he’d obviously been worried the whole night. Also, he knew that Nick had been the one to find him using some kind of magic. Cyan had told him how Nick had passed out after that, waking up momentarily so he could tell him the address, and then collapsing again. He had been yanked awake when Cyan and Sasha had showed up in his room in a cloud of black smoke earlier—perfectly standard way to commute.

Nick wore only black jeans and Sasha’s necklace. His hair was a bit messy and ruffled from sleep. Sasha couldn’t help but admire the way his pale skin clashed with the darkness of his hair. He couldn’t help but crave his touch and the comfort of his arms.

But still, right now, Nick was being annoying. Sasha resented the reprimanding tone.

“Come on. How was I supposed to know that her family was batshit crazy? So, what, I was supposed to just guess that they wanted me to make her pregnant with some experimental hybrid baby?”

Nick didn’t answer that. He stepped closer and grabbed the hem of Sasha’s shirt—a thin black shirt, borrowed from Cyan. As Sasha had discovered earlier, Cyan didn’t own any clothes that were not black.

“Take it off,” Nick said, tugging at the shirt.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Take it off. I want to see what they did to you.”

“What’s the point? We told you earlier. Cyan gave me some weird medicine and it’s almost healed already. It’s no big deal.”

Nick was unyielding. “I want to see.”

So Sasha gave up. “You know what? Fine. I’ll take it off.” He took his shirt off, wincing at the pain—almost healed wasn’t quite accurate; truthfully the scratches, bruises and bite wounds still hurt, but at least nothing was infected or bleeding—and then he took off his pants, too. “I’ll take everything off, if that’s what you want.”

He tossed everything to the floor and he stood, completely naked, facing Nick. His heart started beating really fast as he realized what he’d just done. They were standing really close, too. Sasha held his own arm, feeling awkward all of a sudden. He cleared his throat.

“See? It’s not that bad.”

But Nick looked troubled. “Not that bad?” His voice was weirdly emotional. Sasha was shocked when he saw that tears threatened to fall from the corners of his eyes.

“H-Hey don’t freak out…”

Nick ignored that. “They bit you,” he said in a low voice as he reached up with his fingers to touch Sasha’s neck, “they hurt you, and you called for me but I didn’t come.”

“None of this is your fault,” Sasha said firmly.

Nick looked really shaky and distressed. Sasha couldn’t help it; he pulled him in for a hug and held him close. Soft dark hair tickled the side of his face as he closed his eyes and breathed in Nick’s scent—subtle and sweet, masculine and familiar. Nick wasn’t crying, but he wasn’t far from it.

“I should be the one comforting you,” he whispered into Sasha’s neck. “I just can’t stop thinking about… what that guy… was about to do…”

“Jackson. Yeah, he’s an asshole. But he was following orders from his pack leader, who also happens to be his father…”

“Don’t give him excuses.”

Sasha laughed weakly. “You’re right. Heh. The hell am I saying?” He had one hand tangled in Nick’s hair, and the other around his waist. Nick’s body felt warm and hard against him, and it felt so right that it almost overwhelmed him.

Nick said, “I wish Cyan had killed Jackson.”

“I’m the one who told him not to.”

“He should’ve killed him anyway. And then I would’ve followed Jackson to Hell to personally kill him again. He could hang out in purgatory with my demon father for all I care.”

Sasha raised an eyebrow. Nick wasn’t making much sense. Anyway.

“Forget about it. It wasn’t even his idea. Wasn’t Hazel’s fault either, I could tell. It was their parents. They’re completely insane. They wanted to try and have a half-fox, half-wolf grandkid. I don’t know what they would’ve called him, or her. Werewox? I don’t know.”

That made Nick laugh. Sasha felt the vibrations in his chest, and he smiled.

“Werewox,” Sasha said. “That makes you laugh? I’ll say it again if it makes you laugh.”

Nick pulled away from him slowly, still laughing. He wiped under his eyes. Sasha was still holding his waist. He could tell that Nick was tired; he had dark circles under his eyes. But he was still beautiful. Sasha looked at his lips and before he knew it they were kissing. Softly at first, then hard and deep, Nick tilting his head to give Sasha better access. Nick held him and kissed him like he needed him more than water or air. Kissing Nick always made Sasha’s mind go: Yes, this is what it’s supposed to feel like. This is what all them writers write about, what whiny singers can't help but sing about...

His legs felt weirdly weak and his chest was like an explosion of warmth. His bruises didn’t matter anymore, didn’t matter at all. Sasha wanted more. But they broke apart.

And Nick said this: “You’re naked.”

“Thank you mister obvious.”

Nick let his hands run down Sasha’s sides, all the way to his hip bones. He looked up at him under long black eyelashes. There was a glint in his eyes. Like fire.

“You don’t mind?”

“No.” He swallowed. “Not with you. I trust you. Earlier, I was… I was scared. Even though I don’t want you to kill him, I can still acknowledge that Jackson’s a jerk for what he—for what he almost did. That’s just… not okay.”

“Not okay? That’s a euphemism.”

“What’s that?”

Nick just stared. “Go to school more often, Sasha.”

“Jerk. Don’t ruin the mood.”

He tried to pull away playfully but Nick held him close, and kissed him again, teasing with his tongue. Sasha threw his arms up around Nick as he kissed back, taking control.

But then Nick pressed his leg between Sasha’s thighs, and Sasha threw his head back with a moan. Nick used this opportunity to kiss his neck.

“I love the sounds you make,” Nick whispered in his ear, before kissing the skin under it again. He tangled his fingers in Sasha’s hair, too. It sent shivers all across his body.

“It… tickles,” said Sasha. But that wasn’t exactly the right word. And he couldn’t help but groan low in his throat.

Nick smiled. “You’re sensitive…”

But then Sasha pushed him away, gently. He needed to catch his breath. He needed to… he didn’t know what he needed to do. He was on the brink of losing control. Thing was, Nick made him want to lose control.

He closed his eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry. Can we just… slow down?”

“Yeah,” Nick said softly, “that’s okay. Let’s just… sit down.”

They went to sit on the bed together. Sasha felt self-conscious--the whole naked thing--but he tried to ignore those thoughts. He let his fingers trail across the soft fabric of the duvet.

“Sasha… why does this keep happening to you? To us? We keep… getting hurt.” Nick’s voice was low and quiet.

“I don’t know.”

“Like the wolves,” Nick went on, “why would they do this to you? Why now?”

Without looking at him, Sasha took Nick’s hand and laced their fingers, squeezing reassuringly.

“Jackson said werewolves often start having kids really young. Guess his folks really wanted me and Hazel to have this experimental baby soon-ish. And they figured it wasn’t gonna happen naturally because I seemed to have other preferences. So they wanted to hurry and get my… you know. For the werewox.” Sasha paused, looked up and saw Nick’s lips twitching into a smile. “Why does that make you laugh so much? I only said it again to see if it would still make you laugh. Seriously though, Nick. Are you okay?”

“Just tired. I shouldn’t laugh, though. They hurt you, and I hate them, and that’s final.”

“I feel bad for Hazel though. Her parents are horrible. And her brother. But whatever. Let’s not talk about it anymore. I’m tired, too.”

“So we should just sleep.”

“We should,” Sasha agreed.

But then their eyes met, and they were all over each other again, kissing, holding on to each other, crashing their bodies together, and falling on the bed. They rolled over together, and eventually Nick was getting rid of his pants. Sasha helped him, and then they kissed again, Nick rolling him over and pinning him to the bed. Their fingers touched and intertwined. The necklace hung from his neck and the feather pendant tickled Sasha’s chest as Nick leaned closer.

They kissed for a long time. Nick’s skin was warm and his lips were flushed. Sasha reached up to press his hands to Nick’s back, feeling the lean muscles flexing and the curve of his spine and lower back. He wanted so desperately to feel all of him.

“You’re beautiful,” he said to Nick.

“You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever been with,” Nick replied in one breath.

Between two kisses, Sasha whispered, “I’m sorry I avoided you, before. I wasn’t ready, I guess I felt shy, and nervous, and…”

Nick stopped. His bangs were getting too long, Sasha noticed. Dark strands of hair kept falling in Nick’s eyes, and Sasha wanted to reach up and brush them away.

“Wasn’t ready?” Nick emphasized the past tense. His eyes searched Sasha’s, big and dark with his pupils dilated, the warm golden brown color like a fiery circle around them.

“Wasn’t,” Sasha said back. He locked his arms around Nick’s thin waist to pull him closer.

Their lips almost touched but then Nick pulled away, looking at him with a predatory look in his eyes and a sexy smirk.

“I want to make you feel good,” said Nick simply.

Sasha’s heart was pounding. The walls he’d so carefully put up around himself were crashing down. He wanted this.

Nick’s hand traced Sasha’s flat abs, then ventured lower, and lower.

“Do you want me to keep going?” Nick asked.

His black hair was messy, his lips parted as he hesitated, waiting for Sasha’s answer, his chest going up and down as he breathed fast. Sasha liked seeing his necklace on him—and right now, Sasha liked the fact that Nick wore only his necklace even more.

Sasha’s words hitched in his throat. So instead he reached out and pulled Nick in for a desperate kiss. Sometimes words were just no good.

Nick whispered against Sasha’s lips, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

***

“There’s something different about you,” Cyan said, tilting his head. “A glow or something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nick replied innocently before parrying Cyan’s attack.

They were sparring. As strange as it sounded, training in Hell felt very calming. It was eerily quiet. No cars—not even the faintest drone of traffic. No buildings, no people, no animals, nothing. Cyan had brought him to the place called ‘White River Valley’—where Liv and Lucas wanted to fight. The ground and the rocks were so white that the river running across the land appeared white as well.

Nick had his black steel sword and Cyan had selected a long silver sword from his collection, pure white at the hilt with an embedded diamond-like gem. Cyan said it was his new favorite; a Dark Angel blade. Nick had asked him what that meant exactly.

“With this I can kill Liv,” Cyan had explained, “and free all her victims.”

Nick decided it was his new favorite sword too.

Their boots stomped the gravelly white ground as they sparred in a clashing of metallic blades. Nick tried to remain focused, to remember everything that Cyan had taught him; the rules of swordplay, how to keep the weight of his grip evenly distributed, balance and precision. There were only three nights left before the fight. He wasn’t entirely sure being good with a blade would make a difference, but he had to do something—anything. And he couldn’t sleep at night anyway.

He kept thinking about Sasha. Their night—or rather morning—spent together after the werewolf incident. The bed had felt much warmer, and safer. Nick had wanted to stay forever in Sasha’s arms. But waking up to reality was harsh. And he’d had to tell him about the fight. Sasha had freaked out, and it pretty much ruined the mood. But Nick couldn’t blame him. He would freak out, too, if he didn’t have this physical outlet. He was already starting to enjoy sparring even more than rock climbing.

Cyan broke through his defenses and scraped his ribs.

“Stop being so distracted, Nicky. I know what you’re thinking about,” said Cyan in a singsong voice. “Or rather, who.”

Nick was holding his side. Blood slid between his fingers, and dripped onto the gravel, staining the white.

Cyan sheathed his blade and came toward him, sighing. A soft cool wind blew in their hair and rustled their dark clothes. In the distance they could glimpse mountains and forests, but not much more, and it all appeared so far away and wrapped up in fog. The valley seemed so vast and empty.

“Use your powers.” Cyan looked in his eyes.

Nick’s breathing became somewhat labored, the sharp sting in his side clouding his mind for a moment. “You mean bending reality?”

“Precisely. You’re going to heal your wound. Well, not so much heal, but make it so it never happened.”

Nick stared, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “So I should ignore the pain, then?”

“No,” Cyan shook his head, “feel the pain. Feel beyond the pain.”

“I’m not following.”

Cyan smiled, tucking a flyaway blonde strand behind his ear. “It’s amazing, you’ll see. It’s like an optical illusion. If you look carefully enough, you can see that there is more than one reality. It takes practice, sure. And not all of us are good at it. But some demons are so good at it, in fact, that they can almost use it as their only weapon.”

Nick was still confused.

“It’s difficult to explain to a beginner.” Cyan took Nick’s hand and pulled it away from his injury. “It helps if you close your eyes,” he added.

So he closed his eyes. He felt the wind, he felt Cyan’s presence, and he felt the rocks under his boots, but mostly he was aware of the pain where Cyan’s sword had sliced his skin. It was raw and burning. He felt it until there was nothing else. Just the pain. His body started to shake all over.

It was almost too much. For a moment his entire body felt like it was burning, like a wave of heated air was hitting him and spreading, and consuming him, but then it was gone. The wind was refreshing against his skin and the burning sensation was replaced with a tingle that actually felt rather nice. He felt energized and new.

And he opened his eyes.

Cyan was smiling.

Touching his side, Nick looked down and saw the blood, but no injury. The skin was repaired.

“Holy—”

“I know,” said Cyan.

“That is amazing.” He looked up.

Cyan just nodded. “It’s nice teaching you, Nicky. You pick up on things rather quickly.”

“Yeah?”

“It takes months to some of us before we can use our blades properly, or bend reality like that.”

“Seems I’m a quick learner,” said Nick, sheathing his sword in the leather straps on his back.

They were probably done for now. He figured he should try to get some sleep, anyway. It was most likely 2 or 3 am in the real world now.

Cyan seemed thoughtful, his pale blue eyes studying him.

“That can’t be it. I think your father’s powers have a role in this. They’re making you stronger every time you come here, I can feel it. Can you?” He tilted his head. “Does it frighten you?”

“I wouldn’t say that. But I definitely feel some kind of energy. It’s like…”

Nick hesitated, looking up as two black birds flew across the sky. He wondered how he was even able to see them. Black against black. But he saw them; the edges of their wings seemed to glow softly. With sudden insight, he realized they weren’t birds. They were Dark Angels. Having fun like Superman.

“It’s like time slows down, sometimes,” Nick said. “And I can fight. I mean, I can anticipate my opponent’s next moves. I remember, when Liv shot at me, adrenaline kicked in and it was like everything was in slow motion.”

Cyan had a strange smile on his lips. “Time doesn’t slow down. You become faster. You know, Malachy had a reputation for being annoyingly good with those kinds of tricks.”

Nick frowned. For once Cyan seemed in the mood to talk about his father, so might as well.

“Why was he so famous, anyway? Why does everyone know about him?”

Cyan spread his arms. “He liked to stir trouble, I suppose. Jun met him a few times. Described him as a cheeky, rakish bastard.”

Nick almost didn’t want to ask. “Do I look like him?”

“I wouldn’t know. Ain’t never met him. Just heard of him is all. He’s not your biological father technically, though, so I’m sure you don’t look like him.” Cyan winked. “And don’t worry. I’m sure you’re prettier.”

“Don’t bother flirting, Sasha and I are official now,” Nick said teasingly.

“Brilliant! Well done, you. And Nicky, you and Malachy are very different, despite everything I’ve told you tonight. You’re not like him.”

“You think so?”

“I’m starting to know you more, and I don’t think you’d be the kind of person to possess an innocent man and shag his wife.”

“Why’d he do it?”

“Who knows?” He sighed. “It’s a very rare ability. Only Higher Demons can do possession. Malachy was just a Dark Angel. Maybe he wanted to prove something. Or maybe he was hiding from all the people he’d pissed off. Loads of people wanted him dead. Especially when he killed Louis. Anyway. Clearly he went too far, and now he’ll never get to know you. His loss.”

“I don’t really care.”

“No reason you should.”

Nick nodded, glancing away. “I should go.”

“Tomorrow night bring Shane and Riley. It’s time they start training with us, see this place, get a feel for it. We’ll give Shane his own sword so he’ll stop stealing yours.”

“He’ll be ecstatic.”

“I’m sure.”