Liam pushed Ryder onto his back. He leaned over him, hand firm on his chest. Ryder closed his eyes and felt the drag of Liam’s hand down his sternum, across the flat expanse of his stomach, until it reached the line of his black jeans.
“Syphon power like that.” Liam nodded toward the plant by the window. It was shriveled and wilted. His fingertips fluttered over the top of Ryder’s pants and slipped between his legs.
Ryder’s gasp was loud in the stillness. His hand shot down to latch around Liam’s wrist.
He’d explained too much in one night to have to explain another secret.
“No,” Ryder whispered. “I had no idea. I didn’t mean to.”
Liam took the hint and moved his hand to Ryder’s thigh, then to his hip. The quiet was heavy, reminding Ryder that Liam could change his mind. That he probably would. This was just the magic, the leftover bits of it that made them hungry for anything and everything. Ryder had always been hungry for Liam, but he doubted Liam would stay hungry for him.
Even after tonight; even after what they’d done.
“They say it’s addictive,” Liam said.
“Magic like this?”
“Yes. We can’t tell Tyler.”
“We won’t.” Ryder sighed. “Don’t worry; this won’t soil your pristine reputation. No one has to know you did blood magic with a necromancer.”
Liam’s silence held weight. Ryder didn’t have the courage to look at him, so he kept his eyes closed, and memorized the outline of Liam’s hand on his hip and the taste of him in his mouth. He tried to focus his energy on the plant by the window. He reached for its life-force, for the pieces of it that still lingered inside him.
The flames atop the candles grew smaller and smaller until they faded. Ryder’s energy drifted from him, as if he was shedding a second skin.
Liam stopped breathing.
When Ryder finally opened his eyes, he looked at the plant and watched it unravel. Its leaves filled with color, muted violet and dark teal. It was alive, but changed.
“You brought it back.” Liam’s voice was equal parts disbelief and awe.
“Looks like it.”
Liam smoothed his palm up Ryder’s side. His thumb stroked one of the scars on his chest. Before he could ask about it, Ryder slid off the bed and headed for the bathroom. He shook out his hands and glanced at his reflection. The symbol on his hip was a small upright triangle, the elemental emblem for fire. Half-moon indentions from Liam’s teeth curved above and below it.
“I’m taking a shower.” Ryder glanced over his shoulder.
“Do you want me to stay?” Liam adjusted his shirt as he got off the bed. He stood in front of the altar with his hands shoved in the front pockets of his blue jeans. He looked dismantled and beautiful and utterly confused, as if a thousand questions were ringing loud in his ears and he couldn’t discern them. The tiny cut on his neck was covered by a blooming purple bruise.
“Do you want to stay?”
Liam shrugged one shoulder. “Up to you. Do you need some space?”
No. Ryder licked his lips. Space was the last thing he needed. “If you stay, there’s tea in the kitchen. If not, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Liam’s jaw tightened and a pained smile twitched on his mouth. He nodded and looked from Ryder to the floor. One hand pushed his hair back, the other squirmed in his pocket. He blinked and gave another curt nod, as if he’d decided but kept it to himself.
The pipes groaned when Ryder turned the shower on. He sensed Liam as he stood under the water, but a few minutes later his energy was gone. Ryder wanted to be surprised, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t blame Liam for leaving. Ryder hadn’t asked him to stay.
He scrubbed his body until his skin was pink, and stood in the shower until the water ran cold.
When he stepped out, Percy meowed at him from the entryway to the bathroom. His big yellow eyes blinked, long black tail swaying to and fro.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Ryder mumbled. The ghost of Liam’s lips and fingertips and magic tiptoed across his flesh. “He kissed me.”
Percy purred at him and flopped on his back.
Ryder swiped his hand across the fogged mirror so he could see his reflection. His body hadn’t changed under Liam’s hands. He was still lean and strong, with narrow hips and bare, soft skin between his legs. He was still smooth with tight muscles, and had the angled face of a Wolfe.
Now that he’d noticed it, he’d never be able to unsee his black eyes, his darkness. The necromancer in him had risen to the surface.
When he checked his phone, he had a message from Christy.
Bring beer tomorrow. And maybe the truth.
Ryder rolled his eyes.
He’d bring the beer.
Chapter Three
PERCY CURLED UP on his chest, but Ryder barely slept. He stared at the ceiling and scratched behind Percy’s ears while the symbol on his hip continued to throb, reminding him that Liam had carved it there and drank his blood and watched him steal life from the plant under the window, and kissed him anyway.
His phone never rang.
Liam didn’t knock on the door in the middle of the night, but Ryder hoped he might.
The only unexpected visitor was a jet-black crow who tapped on his bedroom window with an equally jet-black beak.
“River?” Ryder sat up, and Percy jumped off the bed to investigate. “What’re you doing here?”
Jordan’s familiar, River, cawed and tapped again. He ruffled his feathers and held up one foot, where a crimson ribbon was tied around it, holding a tiny cinched bag.
Ryder opened the window and held out his arm. “You’re heavy,” he said softly, sagging under River’s weight. “What’d she send me?”
River nudged Ryder’s cheek with his beak and nibbled on his ear. Percy yowled from the floor, winding around Ryder’s ankles.
The note said:
Careful. It’s sharp.
-J
Ryder waved toward his altar and the candles lit. He huffed a laugh when River walked up his arm to settle on his shoulder. “I’ve never seen one of these in person,” he whispered, dropping the contents of the bag into his palm.
The silver reaver was slender and sharp. It fit over Ryder’s index finger easily, armored like scales across his digit and pointed at the tip like a blade. Every necromancer had one of their own—a small, concealable accessory that could be used as a tool or a weapon.
He curled his finger and stretched out his hand. The metal was cool and grounding against his skin. River cawed at him, nuzzled his temple, and hopped onto the windowsill. A second later, River was gone.
“So, this is it,” Ryder said. He glanced at Percy and shrugged. “I thought they only gave these to people after they were brought back.”
Percy looked up at him and yawned.
Ryder slid the reaver off his finger and set it on his altar next to an almost burned-out candle. He sent a quick text to Jordan. Thanks. Am I allowed to have this if I haven’t gone through the ceremony?
Our little secret.
Ryder had too many secrets, but one more wouldn’t hurt.