Necromancer Legacy - 21. Complication

Nick woke up and immediately felt for Sasha. He’d had a bad dream but couldn’t remember what it was. Right now he just had a bad feeling. His hand found Sasha’s arm but something was wrong. He whipped around in the bed and saw that Sasha’s eyes were open. And his body was growing cold. His chest was immobile; no rise and fall movement.

His body was growing cold.

No. No, no, no.

Shock paralyzed him, twisted his insides. This couldn’t be happening.

Then anger. Anger rose within him and spread like a wound welling blood. And he saw red. Red trickled down the walls of his bedroom and met on the floor in a circle.

Yes. This was good. He needed to go, now.

He let go of Sasha’s body. He couldn’t keep touching his cold, lifeless skin. Not if there was a way to undo this. He was a fucking necromancer for Christ’s sake. So he swallowed the lump that had begun to form in his throat and jumped off the bed. Crying was a luxury he couldn’t afford right now.

With one knee and one palm down in the red circle created by his own will power, he closed his eyes and shifted.

When he opened his eyes again and looked up he saw that he was atop a mountain. The sky was black and the shimmering mountain tops were pure white. The wind was so strong and icy that it almost knocked him over.

Black smoke curled around him and clung to him, clothing him in dark, shadowy clothes that protected him from the cold—bending reality. Nick remembered what Cyan had taught him. But this was like instinct. Like he’d done this before, even though he couldn’t remember. He rose to his feet and saw Sasha. Something gripped at Nick’s heart and wouldn’t let go. Sasha was in trouble; he was going to fall off the cliff. Nick started running to him.

Sasha had tears in his eyes. Nick didn’t know if they were there because of the violent wind or something else. Nick ran as fast as he could but it still wasn’t enough. Sasha slipped and fell, the fragile rocks crumbling below his feet. Nick wanted to scream but no sound came out.

He reached the edge, his hands catching at the dusty ground. And he witnessed Sasha’s fall, a vision worst than any nightmare.

Sasha’s body crashed among the rocks, so, so far below, broken. Dread clutched the pit of Nick’s stomach and made him feel sick. Why couldn’t he make this right? Wiping at his eyes, Nick started climbing down the cliff. What was real and what wasn’t? He didn’t know anymore. The rough edges of the mountain side scraped his hands and feet, making them bleed. He kept climbing down, finding hooks and creaks in the pale rock. The cold wind suffocated him. It was all around, and it seemed like the wind had a color; as black and inky as the sky. Everything else was heavily quiet. There was only the wail of the wind, and his own ragged breathing. The tears in his eyes clouded his vision, but he climbed down like this was one of the walls at his climbing gym in Brooklyn; like he’d done it a hundred times before.

After climbing down something like sixty feet, his trembling hands slipped. If this wasn’t real, then why did his body feel so sore? Nothing made sense. Nick let himself fall, giving up for a moment. And the feeling was strangely liberating. He felt free and light.

But he had something he needed to do.

Nick was not afraid. Suddenly he could hear himself breathe again, calmly. The distance seemed to shrink between himself and those rocks. But he wasn’t falling. He was jumping. He wouldn’t hurt himself. Nothing was real. He was in control.

He landed in a crouch, his fingers brushing the ground before he leaped back up. He went to Sasha.

But someone was already there.

“Liv.” He said her name out loud.

Of fucking course.

She draped her red coat over Sasha’s body.

“Poor Sasha,” she said softly, thoughtfully. “So afraid of falling.”

Nick stepped forward. He wished he had his sword. No, he wished he had Cyan’s sword. A Dark Angel’s blade. The one that could kill her for good.

His hatred for her almost made him dizzy.

“Get away from him.”

Liv didn’t move. She studied him.

“What are you doing, Nicholas? Don’t you want me to bring him back?”

She spoke slowly, like she was talking to a stubborn child. Her brown curls danced in the wind. Her bright red clothes were wrapped tightly around her curves, like snakes hugging her.

“Get away from him,” he said again. “I’ll bring him back. Don’t you think you’ve done enough? Like I would let you take him, too.” He advanced toward her, but she put up a hand to stop him. She looked amused.

She lowered two fingers. “Three words for you,” she said, and her smiled widened slightly. “Are you sure?”

His heart skipped a beat. If Nick did this, Sasha would love him, vying for his affection like Shane and Riley did.

Fuck.

Liv laughed at his expression. She was enjoying herself, clearly.

Sasha would care for Nick, adore him, look after him.

But Nick would never know. He would never know if any of it was real. Neither one of them would ever know. And what a nightmare to live like that. It wasn’t right. Nick couldn’t do this to him.

Not like this.

Nick’s voice was a whisper carried by the wind. “Just do it.”

Blood red lips smiled at him, and she nodded. Seconds later, they were both gone. Nick was alone, surrounded by the white tipped mountains, not a soul in sight. The wind was so harsh and cold, it seemed to seep through his skin. He closed his eyes, tears sliding down his cheeks.

***

Nick went through the next morning like it was some kind of hazy dream. Among other things, he was very much sleep deprived. Showering, getting dressed, eating the bagel and drinking the coffee that Riley had bought for him—he did all those things but without really remembering he’d done them.

Earlier, after the whole travelling to Hell thing, when Nick had shifted back to reality, back to his dark, quiet bedroom, Sasha and Liv were already gone.

“I mean we’re all nervous,” Shane was saying to Riley in a low voice, “but I think there’s something wrong with him.”

The two of them were sitting on the living room couch and checking something out on youtube.

“I think he can hear us,” Riley replied, holding his unfinished coffee. “Where are you going?” He asked in a louder voice when he saw that Nick was stepping in his combat boots and shrugging on his jacket.

“To a meeting,” he answered.

He left before they could ask any more questions, slamming the door shut. He crossed the hallway, passed the elevator door and went to race down the stairs.

Nick hadn’t told his roommates about Sasha. He couldn’t. Not yet. Just the thought of Sasha being manipulated by Liv. Sasha with that Devin guy…

His hands curled into fists at his sides. Rage churned inside him. After jumping down the last couple of steps he pushed the main door of the apartment building and hit the sidewalk. It was raining pretty hard today. He didn’t care. Barely even noticed.

Cyan fell into step next to him, like he’d been standing outside the building waiting for him—maybe he had. Nick remained quiet. He didn’t feel like talking, not even to Cyan. So they just walked side by side, on their way to the Upper East Side. Nick didn’t feel like taking a cab or public transit. He was too early, anyway. He just wanted to walk, rain or no rain. People rushed past them with their umbrellas going all over the place in the wind. Nick was annoyed. He didn’t like umbrellas. Then again he felt like he disliked just about everything today.

“I already know,” Cyan said at some point. Nick let out a breath that he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“Good.” His voice sounded much weaker than he’d intended.

He wanted to keep walking, but Cyan stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. People gave them weird looks but they didn’t care. Cars splashed water. Buildings loomed above. City life went on. But it all seemed so surreal and pointless. People were trying so hard. What for? When precious things could be lost in such a fleeting moment.

“Nicky… I know what it’s like. In 1917 I lost my little brother in the war. But this is different. Sasha is still alive. We’ll make it right.”

They didn’t hug or anything. But it didn’t matter. They were together. In a silent agreement they resumed walking.

***

They were meeting the werewolves at a Starbucks. Streams of people walked in and out to get their daily doses of sugar and caffeine, paying very little mind to the four young people in the corner, who happened to be discussing some strange fight that would take place in Hell.

The Snow siblings were last minute potential allies in said fight. Plus three other wolves, or so they said. Friends that also felt bad about what their pack did to Sasha. And they wanted to help. Nick was in such a sour mood that he felt about ready to kill Jackson and Hazel on the spot, but he knew that five werewolves could make the difference in that fight.

Hazel seemed very fidgety. Her pixie silver hair, uncombed and messy, spilled over her forehead, tickling her brow. She kept biting her lip. And she wasn’t drinking her coffee. She just clutched the warm mug, with only the tip of her fingers sticking out of her long green sweater sleeves. Jackson looked calm and composed. He wore a suit, which was kind of weird. Maybe he wanted to have his nicest outfit on in presence of a reaper, just in case.

“How did you two find out about this… predicament?” Cyan asked, sipping his hazelnut latte.

The hum and hustle of the busy coffee shop covered up their conversation, but they still avoided obvious words, and tried to remain vague.

“Sasha told me about pretty much everything,” Hazel explained, her gray eyes avoiding Nick’s stare.

She had already told Nick about this on the phone, when she’d contacted him the day before. And Nick had replied that, well, Sasha must have really trusted her if he’d confided in her like that. Which had made her cry. He wasn’t going to make her cry again. This was pointless chit chat.

Last night, Nick had chosen not to tell Sasha about that phone conversation with Hazel. He figured he’d tell Sasha today. But now…

Nick had been avoiding the topic, but these people needed to be filled in if they were going to be their allies.

He cleared his throat. Pushed away his coffee. It was almost empty. He was drinking a lot of the stuff today.

“So you guys are really serious about this?”

Jackson nodded sternly. “I owe Sasha, personally, so…” He looked across the table at Cyan. Cyan smiled at him. Jackson looked away.

“And three more of you are willing to join?” Nick asked.

Hazel took a deep breath. “Yes. Three of our friends. They all feel really bad. And this is a good excuse to use their powers and get some action.”

“Well,” Cyan shrugged, “whatever the reason. We’ll take all the help we can get.”

Nick put his palms on the table. “And all five of you… are able to transform even when it’s not the full moon?”

Hazel nodded. “We’ve been practicing.”

“Have you told Sasha about this yet?” Jackson asked.

There it was again. Nick couldn’t keep avoiding it, he supposed.

“I wanted to tell him as soon as it was settled, today. But there’s been… a complication.”

Hazel went very pale.

Jackson stared at Nick with his odd pale gray eyes. “A complication?”

“The other reaper has him,” Cyan explained in a low voice. He tucked his blonde hair behind his ears and drank some more coffee.

“What?” Jackson hissed. “You’ve let him get captured?”

Nick wanted to kill him. “You’ve no right to say this. Not after what you did to him.”

“You have no idea what it’s like,” Jackson said, “being in a wolf pack. They were direct orders from my father, who is also the pack leader. I had no choice.”

“Well, then,” Nick said, “just quit the fucking pack.”

Jackson sighed. “It’s not that simple. My father—”

Cyan slapped the table. “We’re not here to discuss your wolf problems, lad.”

“The reaper’s right,” Hazel said.

“I have a name,” Cyan replied.

Nick took a deep breath to try to calm down. He kept having these urges to just attack everyone. And other times he just wanted to hide in a corner and hug his knees to his chest.

“Shut up. Everybody shut up. It doesn’t matter that they have him.” Of course it mattered. But if Nick could just finish his little speech, then they would leave, and then… and then he could wait for nightfall by himself, away from their annoying faces. “It doesn’t matter,” Nick went on, “because tonight we fight. We kill Liv. We free all those people she brainwashed, and enslaved, including Sasha. And we kill Lucas, too. The city will remain Cyan’s territory, and everything will be okay.”

Hazel and Jackson nodded. Hazel grabbed her umbrella. It was white with black music notes on it.

Jackson stood and cleared his throat. “We’ll tell our friends.”

“See you at nightfall,” Hazel said.

And then they left.

Cyan sipped his latte. “That little speech,” he said, “almost convincing.”

“Shut up.”

Cyan looked to the side pensively. “You looked like you wanted to kill our friend Jackson.”

“That’s because I did.”

Cyan tapped his black fingernails against the side of his cup. “If you could just re-direct that anger at Liv and her army tonight, that would be splendid.”

Nick rattled the chair back, getting up. “You don’t have to tell me that.”