Page 1 of Deadly Deception (Necromancer Tales #2)

Chapter

One

Erasmus

Ahh…October . Hands stuffed into the deep pockets of my favorite hoodie, I leaned my head back and took in a deep inhale of the crisp, clean air. A hint of freshly turned earth coated the edges of that breath, coming from a recently excavated grave nearby. With Halloween just around the corner, others thought hanging out in a graveyard was either the epitome of cool or the darkest depravity. To me, it was neither. As a necromancer, graveyards were simply another version of home.

My toes wiggled within my battered tennis shoes. Rocking back on my heels, I stared into the night sky. While I loved my Mississippi heat, fall was always a welcome respite from the constant humidity. The sky was clearer, the stars brighter, and humanity’s general odor more palatable.

The hum of the recently departed vibrated around me. Salvation Crossroads Cemetery was a solid level four. My personal made-up scale went from one to ten, with one containing the quietest, most content citizens, and ten being migraine-inducing. Salvation Crossroads wasn’t a cemetery I planned on visiting at my leisure. It was a little too noisy for that; it had plenty of dearly departed souls that evidently hadn’t complained enough in life, and found the need to continue their laments in the afterlife.

That was the way of the dead. Pops said the afterlife was just a reflection of the living one. He was probably correct, not that I’d readily tell him that. As the most powerful warlock on the western coast of the United States, Pops’s ego was already large enough. Warlock Nikodemus Holland had reason to have a big ego…but that didn’t mean his arrogance was always welcome.

Warmth spread through my chest, and I rubbed the soft fabric over my heart. While Pops might be an arrogant asshole, he was my arrogant asshole. Not everyone was blessed with certainty in their lives. I was, and one of those certainties was knowing I was loved. Pops would burn down the world for me, and my momma would be there at his side to light the blowtorch. Lydia Boone might only be human, but woe to the one who deemed her unthreatening when it came to protecting her child.

Getting tired of standing and waiting for my client, I headed for the nearest, sturdiest headstone and eased my rear against it. Patting the top, I said “Thanks, Sandra.” Her corpse was buried deep below, and from what I could tell, she was one of the quietly content. I hoped no one ever asked me to bring her soul back.

Sitting shifted my pants, all the pockets lining their sides bulging with Pops’s charms. I never left home without them, especially the pain-relieving ones. Retrieving souls from the great beyond wasn’t always happy-go-lucky, especially this time of year when my necromancer abilities were stretched thin. I’m not sure why, but besides December, October was my busiest month. My customers for those two months were completely different, with December’s clients far more somber, and their reasons for bringing a loved one back more sentimental around the holidays.

October’s clientele was…different. Not bad different, just different . Typically, I enjoyed October jobs more. My clients’ reasons for bringing someone back tended to be more playful, and the clients themselves more colorful. While December brought out the reluctant humans who detested my existence and the need for my particular services, October drew eclectic eccentrics who were often more fascinated than repulsed by my necromancer ways.

At least, that was the typical way things went. Not everyone read the October Clientele Manual . Case in point: my latest client, Brendon Devonshire. Truth be told, I wasn’t too sure what to make of the young Mr. Devonshire. On the surface, he seemed like a man who simply wanted to say a final goodbye to his recently and tragically deceased stepbrother. But something about Brendon made me think that if I took a shovel to that surface, I’d find a pit of tar beneath.

Brendon’s stepbrother, Cody Stevens, had recently met his end on I-10. From what I’d read, Cody had thankfully died on impact. There’d been enough of him to bury, but his services featured a closed casket. I could pull a soul back if I had the cremains, although it was more difficult keeping them together, and it took a lot more energy to fuel their vocal abilities.

Staring at the closed casket, free of dirt and yet to be lowered into the ground, I wasn’t sure Brendon was ready for the gruesome reality of what he’d asked me to do. Honestly, I’d almost turned this job down. Curiosity was a damnable thing, and got me into more trouble than most cats. It also lined my bank account. I’d learned to trust my instincts over the years and had asked for the money for this job up front. I didn’t always do that. Hell, to Pops’s eternal irritation, I didn’t always charge clients.

This job felt different, and I’d treated it as such. I might have truly turned it down if it weren’t for the niggling worry that Cody Stevens’s death hadn’t been the accident it was assumed to be. When my human paramour, Detective Franklin O’Hare, agreed there could be something sketchy going on, I made my decision.

My phone vibrated with a text. Brendon Devonshire wasn’t late yet, but it was close enough to our designated meeting time that I wondered if the message was from him. My automatic grin at seeing Franklin’s name pop up was welcome.

How’s it going? Three simple words that meant the world to me. Before I could type a reply, a second message popped up. Has your client arrived yet?

While Momma and Pops regularly checked in on me, Franklin doing so was completely different. I’d never dreamed I could have something like this—something so normal for others, and so completely unexpected for someone of my species.

Not yet , I typed back, watching the little dots appear that meant Franklin was responding.

Let me know if he doesn’t show, or if you need anything else. Did you remember your candy?

A light chuckle escaped my throat. I remembered. It’s in my pocket. Low blood sugar was a hazard of the job, although it only typically happened when I was completely depleted. Unfortunately, Franklin had seen me that way too many times.

Don’t confuse it with one of Holland’s charms. That response was followed by a grinning emoji, and then a vomiting emoji.

I rolled my eyes but answered back No worries.

I always worry. That’s what boyfriends do .

My heart wanted to leap from my chest, crawl into the phone, and message itself to Franklin. That was the quickest way I could think of to get to him. How was this my life? I’d never dared dream it was possible, not with the way necromancers were treated. We were the pariahs of the world. The different species rarely got along, and even more rarely agreed on anything. The one issue they all seemed unified upon was that necromancers were unwelcome.

I was a unicorn among necromancers. My warlock father hadn’t abandoned me. Most days I lounged in a sea of sanity. I used my necromancer skills for profit and to sustain my life. I’d purchased a home in the ’burbs and had a steady boyfriend.

“I do not understand this particular job.”

And I also had an all-powerful djinn that popped up unexpectedly in my life from time to time. Aurelia’s continued presence was, at best, confusing—and, at worst, deadly. Aurelia could kill me with a thought. Considering I was the only known threat to her existence, it was a constant wonder why she didn’t. The best I could figure was that I fascinated Aurelia. I didn’t want to contemplate what the consequences would be if that fact ever shifted or changed. As Momma said, considering it wasn’t something I could control, I shouldn’t waste time worrying. Besides, I thought Pops worried enough for all of us.

“I’m not certain I understand it either,” I answered. I wasn’t sure if Aurelia was keeping her presence hidden from others or not. That was a pitfall I regularly fell into, and I often appeared as if I were speaking with ghosts.

I glanced in Aurelia’s direction. She was dressed in her typical combat boots, ripped jeans, and flannel shirt. Aurelia seemed stuck in the nineties grunge scene. But given my questionable fashion sense, I didn’t have any room to judge.

Aurelia’s head was completely bald and covered in tattoos. From what I understood, those tattoos covered the rest of her body and were placed there by her witch creator. They were Aurelia’s restrictions—rules governing her actions. More precisely, what actions could and couldn’t be wished for her to perform. I’d wager ninety-nine percent of Aurelia’s life as a djinn was not her own. Aurelia’s current master—a pixie named Peaches—gave her a very, very loose leash. Peaches’s bonded and beloved, the Southeastern vampire king Lucroy Moony, shared my concerns. Time would tell who was correct.

Metal hoops dangled from Aurelia’s overly large ears, their luster gleaming in the moonlight. Her plump lips were expressionless as she stared at the casket waiting to be placed in the ground. Arms crossed under her generous breasts, Aurelia was a beautiful creature. I could appreciate that beauty, even if it wasn’t my particular sexual preference.

I checked the time again. Brendon Devonshire was officially late to the party.

Growing bored, I tapped my fingers along the sides of Sandra’s gravestone. She’d passed in 2008, so her stone was still in good condition.

Silently standing beside me, Aurelia didn’t find it necessary to make small talk. Sometimes that was okay; sometimes the silence grated. Tonight felt like the latter, and I asked, “Are you planning on staying?” Aurelia was often there one moment and gone the next.

She shrugged. “I am uncertain. I will if it is interesting.”

I wasn’t certain what Aurelia found interesting . She often surprised me.

Settling back into the silence, soft laughter filtered through the crisp night air. The sound was too feminine to be my client, but the low, booming chuckle that followed was certainly him. I didn’t hold laughing in a cemetery against anyone, and pushed off Sandra’s gravestone so I could at least meet my client standing upright. My clothes might not scream professional, but I always tried to make up for my desire for physical comfort by being respectful.

Brendon Devonshire wound his way through grave markers on his way to me. Tucked under his arm was a petite young woman, her auburn hair pulled back into a long, thick ponytail.

“It’s cold, Brendon,” she complained. “I should have brought a heavier jacket.”

Or a jacket at all. While I wasn’t one to judge, the cooler weather didn’t support the barely-there tank top she wore. With her lily-white arms exposed, she leaned further into Brendon. He appeared to eat it up and said, “I’ll keep you warm. Besides, this won’t take long, and it will be totally worth it.”

I raised an eyebrow. Brendon had no idea how long this would take.

Shaking off my growing unease and irritation, I took a step forward and said “Mr. Devonshire, I assume.” I didn’t offer my hand. No species wanted to touch a necromancer. It was as if we carried a transmissible disease, and they were afraid my necromancer cooties might get passed along.

“That’s right,” Brendon said, head held high.

My gaze traveled to the young lady at his side. “And you would be?”

This close, I could see her wide brown eyes flick in Brendon’s direction. Instead of answering my question, she asked her boyfriend, “Is he really a necromancer?”

I stiffened. Aurelia’s whispered laughter sounded behind me. Neither human so much as glanced in her direction. Aurelia was keeping her presence hidden.

“Yeah,” Brendon answered. “Can you believe it?”

Considering I’d been born a necromancer, had been a necromancer all my life, and had been hired to bring back the soul of his deceased stepbrother… Yes, I could definitely believe I was a necromancer. Then again, he wasn’t really speaking to me , even though I was standing right there.

My smile was brittle. Yeah, these two didn’t fit with my typical October clientele. I had a feeling Brendon Devonshire was going to wind up in the annoying-as-shit client category.

“Are you ready to begin?” I asked, more than ready to get this job over with.

Brendon started to answer, but his lady friend said, “I thought Steve and Janelle were coming. And what about—”

“They chickened out, Stella,” Brendon said with disgust, and more than a hint of judgment. I had no doubt that Steve, Janelle, and whoever else Stella was inquiring about would hear about their cowardly ways for years to come.

I, for one, was happy to hear no other guests planned on popping up. In fact, more individuals being present went against the contract I’d had Brendon sign. Somehow, I got the feeling that a legal agreement didn’t mean shit to Mr. Devonshire.

Rocking my head back and forth, my neck popped. I considered calling Brendon out on already breaking his end of the contract, but didn’t think it was worth it. The others weren’t present.

Stella, however, did not like this news and went a shade paler. “They’re not coming?” Her eyes darted around, settling everywhere but on me. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this. I mean, Cody’s gone and—”

“It’ll be fine,” Brendon reassured her. “Right, Emus?”

Aurelia chuckled and said “Oh, this is more entertaining than I anticipated.”

I was glad she was amused. “Erasmus,” I corrected. “Necromancer Erasmus Boone.” I thought about throwing Pops’s warlock credentials out there just to be a prick, but didn’t.

Brendon waved me off as if getting names correct wasn’t important. Maybe it simply wasn’t important if you were a necromancer.

“Yeah, let’s do this.” There was a menacing gleam in Brendon’s eyes as he stared at the casket.

“Mr. Devonshire, you informed me there was something important you wanted to tell Cody Stevens, something you failed to relay while your stepbrother was alive. Given Cody’s untimely death, I thought your claim legitimate. However, I’m beginning to have second thoughts.”

“Second thoughts?” Brendon’s lips thinned as his eyes pinched. “You’ve already taken my money. Are you just some scam artist?”

If I’d been a cat, my back would be arched, tail fully fluffed, ears pinned back, and mouth set in a violent hiss.

In answer, I walked to Cody Stevens’s casket, popped open the lid, ignored the traumatic injuries his manner of death had led to, and latched onto Cody’s connecting string. All souls had them—a tether that forever chained them to what was left of their mortal coil. Finding that string, tracing it, and calling the soul back was as easy as walking for me.

“Cody Edmund Stevens, I call you back to your body.” My voice was even and certain, but Cody’s soul wasn’t. Some souls were eager to come back. Some weren’t. Cody’s was very reluctant.

Despite his reluctance, Cody’s soul couldn’t ignore my call, and he slammed back into his body with a shudder.

Cody’s mouth twisted before his eyes opened. Only one eye was capable of opening completely. The other had been damaged when the left side of his skull was crushed. The mortician had done their best, but there was only so much one could do when the injuries were that extensive.

Cody’s jaw was still intact and didn’t appear fractured. He opened his mouth, twisting his lower jaw back and forth. His spine was fractured; if Cody had still been alive and dependent upon his own body for movement, he wouldn’t have been able to sit up. My power infused his body, and when I ordered, “Please sit up,” Cody’s body could do nothing but comply.

“Holy shit,” Brendon marveled, an appropriate amount of awe coloring his words.

“That’s so gross,” Stella added. If I were being objective, I couldn’t totally disagree. Cody’s body wasn’t the most pristine. There was a reason the services had been closed casket.

“No grosser than he was when alive,” Brendon answered viciously. He’d gotten over his shock and awe quickly. “It might even be an improvement.”

I felt Cody’s soul flinch through our bond, and inwardly berated myself for my curiosity along with my pride. I’d wanted to prove a point when Brendon had accused me of being a con artist. I’d allowed his taunting words to goad me and sting my pride, all the while ignoring how wrong this situation seemed. Cody’s response told me Brendon’s words weren’t brotherly teasing. They’d hurt his soul, and that was just as much on me as the jackass who’d hired me.

I desperately wanted to release Cody’s soul but couldn’t stomach the thought of letting him go with those toxic words hanging in the air. Soon it wasn’t just words, but laughter stinging Cody’s soul.

“Oh my God. I wanted to see, but Mom wouldn’t let me.” Brendon’s laughter was malicious and taunting. “Shit, that truck got you good.”

Stella’s shoulder slap wasn’t nearly hard enough. If I pulled my arm back and aimed my fist in Brendon’s direction, he’d be laid out flat on the ground. “Brendon!” she admonished. “That’s not very nice. Cody died.”

Cody’s bruised soul turned a shade colder. Evidently, he wasn’t a fan of Stella either.

“This human reminds me of a former master,” Aurelia said. There was no need for her to whisper, considering she kept her presence hidden.

“Yeah? Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me,” I answered.

“What doesn’t?” Brendon asked, unaware of Aurelia’s previous statement.

Ignoring the question, I asked, “Wasn’t there something you wanted to tell your brother?”

Brendon shuddered dramatically. “Stepbrother. Man, get it right. I’m not related by blood to that loser. That’s insulting.”

Instead of defending Cody again, Stella giggled.

Brendon waved me off and said, “Naw, I didn’t want to ask anything. I just wanted to see his busted-up body for myself. One final laugh. Fuck, I’m glad he’s gone. I was so embarrassed when Mom married his dad and we had to actually share living space.”

“Definitely like a previous master.” Aurelia’s tone was without inflection, as if she were simply discussing a string of days with average weather. I wasn’t certain how Aurelia killed that particular master, only that they would have met an untimely end, just as all Aurelia’s previous masters had. Maybe this was the one she smothered with pizza, but I doubted it.

Echoing my thoughts, Aurelia said, “This one’s death would be no great loss.”

While I agreed, I didn’t feel like wasting away for the rest of my life in a tiny cell simply because this guy was a grade-A asshole. If that were the case, I’d have already been incarcerated.

No, Brendon Devonshire would survive this night. Physically. The guy’s ego was a different matter, and I planned to eviscerate it. Mr. Devonshire was a very misguided young human. Teaching had never been an ambition of mine; however, sometimes needs must, and right now this guy needed a lesson.

Holding onto his sides, as if he hadn’t laughed this hard in ages, Brendon wheezed out “That’s it. I’m done. Send him back. We’ve looked at his ugly mug long enough.”

“I hope I don’t have nightmares.” Stella’s voice trembled, her big, wide eyes staring up at Brendon. I could only assume, given their closeness, that they were an item.

The seconds morphed into a minute, maybe two, and still, I stood there doing absolutely nothing. I could be patient when the occasion called for it. Hands stuffed casually into my pants pockets, I rocked back on my heels and waited.

Brendon’s laughter died, his humor dissipating with it. Brendon’s eyes flicked from me to Cody’s body. Nothing had changed. Cody remained in a sitting position, head turned toward his stepbrother, one eye open, its cloudy haze boring into the man who’d paid to bring him back from the beyond. Cody said nothing. I hadn’t asked him a question and he hadn’t felt the need to speak. I had a feeling that was how he’d gotten through his living experiences with Brendon—by holding his tongue.

Brendon’s eyes narrowed as they focused on me. “I said, that’s enough. Send his soul back to wherever it belongs. I’ve seen enough.”

I gave a slow nod. “Indeed, you’ve seen enough, but have you heard enough?”

Head cocked to the side, Brendon’s eyes narrowed even further. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

To be honest, I wasn’t certain. However, my connection with Cody told me there was something . It was only fair that I give Cody the chance to have a final say.

“Cody,” I said, placing my necromancer authority into my voice. While the dead were the only ones it worked on, the living often found that extra little push uncomfortable. Brendon and Stella’s flinches told me they were not different. “Is there something you’d like to say to Brendon?”

Up until that point, Cody’s soul had felt brittle. It was the kind of soul that was constantly wary, looking for verbal traps and doing its best to avoid further pain. All that changed with that simple question.

“Yes,” Cody answered. I wasn’t familiar with Cody’s voice while alive, and wasn’t sure if Brendon and Stella’s stunned reactions were because he sounded exactly the same or because he didn’t.

“C-Cody?” Brendon acted shocked, like he hadn’t known Cody’s corpse could speak.

“Brendon,” Cody flatly responded. “You look frightened.”

Brendon’s spine snapped to attention and his jaw slammed, rattling his teeth. “Like I’d be scared of a little shit like you. Besides, you’re the dead one, not me.” Pointing an accusatory finger Cody’s direction, Brendon smirked. “Mom and I get everything now. I couldn’t have planned this better myself. A fucking accident.” Brendon’s laughter was cold and vindictive. “With you gone, Mom and I get it all. I thought Mom was in idiot for marrying your old man. But he didn’t last long either. Guess the Stevens’s genes are cursed.”

Cody’s still functioning eyebrow rose. The other had been destroyed when his skull was crushed. Taking a moment to glance my direction, Cody seemed to be asking me for permission to speak. Since I hadn’t ordered him to stay silent, he had permission by default—but evidently he needed auditory confirmation.

I waved him on. “Oh, please, don’t hold back on my account.” I could tell Cody’s soul was itching to unload. I could only hope what he had to say would ease my conscience for bringing him back to deal with this shit again.

Cody’s grin was lopsided but no less pleased. “What makes you think you’re getting anything?”

Brendon blew Cody off. “Mom and I are the only ones left. Of course we’re getting everything.”

“No, you are not. You did not pay attention to my father’s will, Brendon.” Cody shook his head and raised a single finger in a tsking manner. “I’m not surprised. You’ve never been able to concentrate on anything or anyone for long, not even your girlfriend.”

Brendon’s eyes flew wide. Stella’s voice was shaky as she asked, “B-Brendon? What’s he talking about?”

“Nothing,” Brendon sharply replied. “Necromancer, send his soul back. That’s an order.”

Brendon’s words meant nothing to me. Aurelia was a different matter. “He acts just like a master,” Aurelia hissed. A whisper of fear slid down my spine. Choice was sacrosanct for Aurelia. Orders were never a good thing.

“I’ve got this,” I said, trying to appease Aurelia, not caring that Brendon gave me a who the fuck are you talking to look. Ignoring those eyes that proclaimed me batshit crazy, I answered, “Funny, I don’t remember agreeing to take orders from you.”

“We signed a contract, I paid you for—”

“And I’ve fulfilled my end of the contract. I brought Mr. Cody Stevens’s soul back from the beyond. You, however, have broken our contract by bringing an undisclosed third party to—”

“A what?” Brendon’s head snapped back. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

I pointed toward the woman at his side, the one he was holding so tightly it looked like she might be in danger of asphyxiation. “Your lady friend.”

“Stella?” Brendon looked at Stella as if she’d just materialized out of thin air.

“Yes.” Not waiting for his sputtering response, I continued, “It is also abundantly clear that you were not truthful in your reasons for bringing your stepbrother’s soul back. And before you tell me that I’m full of shit, might I remind you that I can, and will, bring back your brother’s soul in the future so he can testify to the nature of your past relationship and that your desire for bringing him back now was mean-spirited and not out of a desire to rectify past hurts or to pass along any sentiments of brotherly affection or love.”

Cody scoffed. “As if there was ever any of that.”

“Apologies, Cody.” I took the opportunity to grovel a little. “I was led to believe the situation was much different.”

While he didn’t look pleased, I didn’t pick up much anger from Cody’s soul. In fact, after a moment, his soul relaxed and he answered, “It’s fine, especially if I get to shatter a few of Brendon’s fantasies.”

“What the hell?” Brendon released Stella and took a menacing step toward me. “You put him back right the fuck now or I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Cody asked before I got the opportunity to whip out one of Pops’s charms and put this guy on his ass. “That won’t change the will, and it won’t change the fact that you’re a cheating jackass.”

Brendon’s neck burned crimson. Attention pulled from me, he turned to Stella and said, “Don’t listen to anything he says. It’s just sour grapes. Cody was always jealous. He—”

“Please, I wasn’t jealous of Stella.”

“You’re lying. I saw the way you looked at her.”

“Of course I looked at her. It was hard not to. That didn’t mean I was jealous of your relationship or that I wanted her for myself. It’s not all about you, Brendon.”

I decided it was time to point out an important fact that Brendon seemed to have conveniently forgotten. “Cody can’t lie, not while I control his soul.”

Brendon’s skin turned an unhealthy shade of red and his mouth opened, sputtering.

Arms hugging her chest, Stella stepped away from Brendon, shifting to look more directly at Cody. She didn’t flinch as she said more than asked, “He cheated?”

“Multiple times,” Cody answered easily.

Stella’s chin lifted defiantly. “Recently?”

“I’m not sure how long I’ve been dead, but he was fucking another woman in his room before I left the house. That’s why I left; it’s why I was on the road.” Cody’s train of thought seemed to drift. “I’m not sure what happened after that. I was on I-10 and…”

I was glad he couldn’t remember. Working with the police, I often needed souls to remember their final moments so we could punish the one who’d taken their life. This wasn’t the same, and I counted it as a blessing that Cody couldn’t remember the minutes before his death. At least he hadn’t suffered.

“You told me it would never happen again.” Stella turned on Brendon. “I’m calling Janelle to pick me up.”

“Stella, don’t you fucking walk away from me!”

My body tensed. I did not like that tone. My fingers gripped one of Pops’s charms, ready to activate it and temporarily paralyze Brendon if that’s what it took to stop him from harming anyone.

Without looking back, Stella threw up her middle finger and continued walking toward the road.

“Fucking bitch,” Brendon muttered while raking his fingers through his hair. “She’ll be back. I’ll buy her something nice and she’ll cave. Stella likes expensive things.” I thought Brendon was more talking to himself than me or Cody.

“I doubt that,” Cody said. “I don’t think your mom will lend you the money for something frivolous. She’ll be too worried about saving her pennies.”

Brendon growled. “What the fuck are you talking about? Your dad left everything to my mom and you. With you gone, it will go to my mom. She’ll have more than enough to—”

“That’s not how Dad’s will worked. Didn’t your mom tell you?” Cody sounded half confused and half delighted.

“She told me we were set, that—”

“You are not set . Dad left everything to me with provisions that your mom be cared for through a trust. That trust has a set amount. It should be enough to keep her comfortable, but not live an exorbitant lifestyle. There’s certainly not enough in there to keep up with your spending habits. As for the rest…it was left to me, and I assure you, Brendon, I didn’t leave a cent in my will to you or your mother.” Cody’s wickedly crooked smile twisted his broken face oddly, making him more macabre than before.

Peace flooded our link. Cody’s soul felt better now than when I’d called him back from beyond the veil.

Easing into my heels, I said the magic words. “Cody Stevens, I release you. Go in peace.”