The Necromancer (Amber Lee Mysteries Book 3) (10 page)

She blamed herself. I could see it in her eyes. “Don’t do that,” I said, “You didn’t know how powerful it was going to be. I want to do this for you, Collette.”

“Well, like hell if you’re going to the Underworld alone,” said Frank.

“And if you go, we all go,” Damien added.

“Then it’s settled,” I said. “We’ll do this for you.”

Collette struggled to stand. Damien held her hand and Frank pulled her up by her shoulders. “You will not be alone,” she said. “I will go also.”

A dizzying heat overcame me. “What? No! You can barely walk!”

“Please,” she said, “Ze magick of ze Underworld will sustain me. If I stay here I will die before you return. At least, zere, I stand a chance at survival.”

Having seen what I saw earlier, I couldn’t help but believe what she was saying. The moment that gate opened Collette’s face filled with life. I didn’t understand how, at the time, but I was starting to paint a picture in my mind of a witch who had somehow tricked the laws of magick into giving her energy from the Underworld instead of from the world of the living.

I had to stop for a moment to consider the thoughts going through my head. A few days ago I didn’t even know this other realm existed; now I was standing only a few feet from a gate to the very place.

“Fine,” I said, “But only if you’re sure.”

Collette nodded.

“Let’s do this, then,” said Frank, but Collette stopped him from continuing.

“No,” she said, “We can only enter the Underworld at midnight. The barrier between our worlds is weakest then. To cross at any other time is to invite harm to come to your body.”

“Midnight, then,” I said.

“Amber, there is one more thing,” she said. “Once inside, you will have only twelve hours to find ze shadow and leave ze Underworld.”

“Twelve hours?” Frank asked. “But, didn’t you say that you had survived in the Underworld for days?”

“I did, but back zen I was whole. A big part of me, the part zat contains the majority of my magick, is gone.”

I understood. “We can do it,” I said, “We can find this thing and stop it.”

“We have no choice,” Damien said. “Otherwise…”

He didn’t need to finish what he was about to say. We all understood. At least, now, we knew the risk. But we were all committed. A nod from Damien and Frank was all it took, and I was proud of them for it. Proud and thankful. For all that Collette believed in me, I didn’t think I would be able to do this on my own.

The three of us together were strong enough to deal with this problem.

CHAPTER 11

At Collette’s request, we left the cottage so that she could rest. By the time we left the room the pool of black water was gone, the fire was out, and a still silence had fallen about the place giving an almost crypt-like feel. But the silence persisted even as the three of us left the cottage. None of us spoke about what we had seen or experienced. About what we were planning to do or the horrors we may encounter in an alien place.

It was like something out of a horror novel.

I drove Frank and Damien home and left them with instructions to be ready for me later on in the night, and then I made my own way home. By the time I got there, Aaron was waiting for me on the porch. Maybe he hadn’t left the house yet? I hadn’t been gone for as long as I had anticipated, after all. Collette’s shadow made sure our ritual ended abruptly.

I stepped out of the car and Aaron lunged, grabbed me by the waist, and kissed me on the lips before I could speak. “Hi,” he said.

I went for his face with my hands but then I remembered that I had been handling the locket, so I stopped myself and rested my hands on his shoulders instead. “Hi yourself,” I said

Aaron paused. Did he just sniff me? “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Uh… yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“I don’t know. You just smell a little strange.”

“The fact that you just
said
that is strange.”

“We’re both just a couple of weirdos, I guess.”

Oh, the irony. If only I could have told myself six months ago that Aaron and I would be weird together in a not too far off future. Would we have remained together? Would I have seen Aaron’s virtuous side clearly enough to want to stick it through? I couldn’t say. Maybe I needed to be with Damien for a while to truly appreciate Aaron and what he represented. But then, I wasn’t entirely sure what he represented. Stability? Loyalty? Protection? Care? A little of everything, I guess.

“I guess we are,” I said.

“So, what do you want to do today?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to go out somewhere?”

“Maybe.”

“Wait, aren’t you meant to be working?”

“Not today.”

“So then let’s enjoy it. Let’s go out somewhere. Take a drive, find something to eat. Let’s not spend it indoors.”

I didn’t fight him. We circled around the back of my car and headed towards Aaron’s 1970 Plymouth Road Runner, the car he had driven away in, which was parked against the curb. A slight trickle of adrenaline teased my slowed pulse as the thought of driving around in Aaron’s beast of a car manifested itself before me and became inevitability. I had never been driven around in it before.

The day was still young—some folks still consider early afternoon to be young—so we drove around for a while, picked up a couple of subs and made our way to a quiet, elevated spot in the woods. There weren’t many outcroppings that overlooked Raven’s Glen, but some spots were particularly beautiful during the day.

Like this one.

A sea of trees lay before us, each one melting into the other to create a mantle of green. The afternoon sun shone bright from on high, and the city beneath threw its rays around like a child plays with toys. I watched as a flight of birds sailed past in the sky and took a moment to thank the Horned God of the Sun, Helios, for this gorgeous change in the weather.

We were sitting on the hood of Aaron’s car, listening to the birds and the sounds of the forest while we ate. Aaron had hooked my smartphone up to his car stereo via Bluetooth so that we could listen to my music for a while, so I searched for the right song and played it loud enough for us to hear. Moments, and Aaron was bobbing his head to
Smells like Teen Spirit
by Nirvana. But then the song ended, and Jack Off Jill’s brand of angry nineties rock music filled the car.

Of all of the songs that could have played, it had to be
My Cat
.

“What is this?” he asked.

“You don’t know Jack Off Jill, I take it?”

“Not really.”

“I don’t blame you. This music isn’t aimed at you.”

“Who is it aimed at, then?”

“People like me.”

“What, women?”

“Women, strong women. I love Jessicka Addams. She taught me how to stick my middle finger up at all those people who used to call me a freak, to keep my head high. I wish there were more people like her in the world.”

Aaron pressed his lips together. “I’m sorry I contributed to that.”

I reached for his hand. “It’s okay,” I said, “I didn’t mean you.”

Silence fell. Well, it wasn’t exactly silence, not while Jack Off Jill was talking about pussy superstars. But the silence between Aaron and I was total, and seeing as though I didn’t want him to dwell on the many times he had called me a freak I started to sing along to a screamer about amazing cats.

Aaron smiled, and then laughed.

I took a bite out of my sub to shut myself up, but remained happy with what I had done. Aaron was smiling and that made me feel great. What made me feel better still was that Aaron was starting to grow fond of my music. I could see it in the steady sway of his neck, the tapping of his foot. This boy was musical and open to new kinds of music in his heart. He had just been conditioned to believe that self-expression was wrong by parents and friends. Maybe that’s why he was such an asshole to me in the past.

“So, I was thinking tonight,” he said, “We could maybe go out on that date?”

I choked down a half-chewed bite of my sub. “Ow. Tonight?”

“Yeah, maybe we could go and watch a movie? I don’t know what’s on, but that’s how people date, right? Dinner and a movie?”

I hadn’t forgotten my conversation with Aaron from the other day, when he said that he wanted to be seen with me in public, but I had pushed it to the back of my mind what with all this Collette business. I had a habit of pushing stuff back that wasn’t important and then forgetting to pull it out to front again. That needed to stop.

“I, um…”

“We don’t have to,”

“No,” I said, reaching for his hand. “I want to, only, maybe not tonight?”

“Plans?”

“Sorta. But I would rather spend my night with you, if that makes you feel better.”

“It’s cool. We can go out another day. What is it you’re up to?”

Shit. Do I tell him or don’t I? Do I bring him into my web of magick and mystery or let him sit on the sidelines, completely unawares, just like Eliza and Evan and everyone else on this world that ever meant anything to me? It wasn’t an easy choice, and with every second that passed the chasm of awkwardness was growing wider and wider.

I had to leap!

“Magick business,” I said, opening Pandora’s box.

“
There’s
something no one’s ever said to me before. Does this have anything to do with the dead birds?” he asked.

I nodded.

“And your backyard?”

Another nod. Aaron had heard about the dead birds. It was on the news, in fact. Natural changes in the atmosphere is what the authorities said, but I knew better now. And I had a suspicion before. But I wasn’t about to correct anyone. Better to let the people in town think the birds dying was a natural thing.

Aaron took a deep breath, likely proud of his correct assessment of the situation. “So, since I already know half of the truth, why don’t you fill me in on the other half?”

So I did, and Aaron remained hooked on my every word. He was like a child learning about dinosaurs for the first time, and the world became a little scarier for him after that day. He would never admit it, of course. Aaron? Scared? Never. But it was. Werewolf or not, all the brawn in the world couldn’t match up to the power of magick.

“I don’t fully get what you’re saying,” Aaron said, “But then again, I can transform into a beast and a wolf, and you can set fires with your mind.”

“So, you believe my story?”

“Why would I think you would lie about something like this?”

“I don’t know. Because it sounds crazy?”

“It does, but this clearly matters to you. So it matters to me too. I want to help.”

“No,” I said, “You can’t. I know this probably goes against every fiber of your being, but you can’t come with me tonight.”

Aaron’s jaw clenched tightly. “I want to.”

“I know you do,” I said, squeezing his hand, “But the Underworld is not a place for you. It feeds off life it doesn’t have and you’re… you’re life incarnate.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at you! You’re tall, strong, healthy, and in the prime of your life. But you’re not a witch, and for all I know, even stepping into the Underworld could kill you outright.”

“Or I may last longer in there than you will.”

“Maybe, but I don’t gamble with anyone but myself. I won’t risk it. Besides, this is my business. You had yours already, remember?”

“Maybe, but what if you don’t make it back out?”

I stared into Aaron’s eyes and smiled. “I will,” I said, “But until then, you don’t need to worry. I’ve got this.”

Aaron didn’t respond. Maybe he was contemplating, like I was, the ridiculousness of what I had just said.
I will?
I said it like that was a promise I could keep. Like it was mine to give away. I had no idea what was waiting for me down there or even if I would make it back out. But I had to say it because, well, you just have to in a situation like this—don’t you?

Isn’t that what the hero says to the love interest before he—or she—embarks on a dangerous quest from which he may not return? Every hope for a safe return is there, but none is guaranteed. It’s never guaranteed.

Aaron squeezed my hand and I squeezed it back twice, reassuring him that everything was going to be okay. It was a lie that only part of me believed, sure, but it was a small part; the part that spoke for insecurity and fear—
that asshole
. Squashing it would be a simple thing, trivial almost. All I had to do was take that little white lie with me to the Underworld tonight.

And bury it there.

CHAPTER 12

The next couple of hours whizzed past like the landscape outside of a moving car. When our bellies were full we retreated to the comfort of my home and the darkness of my bedroom. We talked, there, in the dark, and the more we talked the sleepier we got. And for the first time since Aaron had returned, we spent a long while in a bed without tearing into each other.