A Lost Light (The Bestiary #4)

7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Dyre

I had long ago become resigned to the terrible and interesting things my magic could do. Before I was forced into the bond with Sunshine, I was a blood witch by birth. My family made me hone my magic toward the most dangerous and horrifying uses, though I tried to resist as much as I could.

And once I became a necromancer, well, the first decade or so was dicey. Sometimes Sunny would get fed up with my mortal sensibilities and test the boundaries of our fragile truce in order to feed. Sometimes our combined power would get away from me and I'd raise the dead without meaning to—usually in the most inconvenient situations. And sometimes… sometimes my rage and despair would get the best of me, and I'd use our power out of bitterness and spite, for no other reason than to frighten or cow those who would scorn or hunt me.

But I had never made a revenant before.

Yes, I knew it was technically possible . I had read rare, ancient accounts of such things. And I had always been fairly certain I had enough talent to do it. But why bother? Even in my more spiteful moments, it never occurred to me to cram a living soul into a corpse.

I had always been more intent on creating mindless horrors that would follow my commands unthinkingly. Who wanted a slave with opinions and needs ?

You were never that pragmatic, nor that callous, Sunshine popped up, interrupting my thoughts. Even when they are nothing but empty, shuffling skin and bones, some part of you still hates what we can do. And you were especially repulsed by the power my presence offered back then. Don't pretend otherwise.

I huffed quietly to myself. He was right, of course.

But sometimes… sometimes I was able to look at things with a less emotional point of view and actually enjoy what we could do.

And now we had an actual reason to be proud of ourselves. Others might judge us or call what we had done an abomination or a violation of nature. But where did our power come from, exactly, if not from nature? Wasn't death and the power that flowed through our veins just as natural as any other magic? Niamh, for example, could force flowers to bloom and plants to burn through their life cycle on a whim. Wasn't that just as unnatural?

I wasn't going to feel bad about this new creation.

Elijah turned to me as we reached the courtyard, seeking me out unerringly, turning toward me without needing to look to verify where I stood. I rolled my shoulders back imperceptibly. I didn't know if he had noticed it yet, how closely we were bonded now. I could sense him without trying as well, always aware of that fine thread of power that linked me to the newly alive angel.

He was mine. Technically, I could pull that string. I could use it to dominate him and make him do my bidding. I wasn't certain he understood all the ramifications of being a necromancer's creation. But I hesitated to bring it up. I would never use our bond the way another necromancer might. And… I enjoyed having someone look at me the way Elijah did these days. As if rather than being the source of their nightmares, I was the source of their hope.

Mortals really are strange, silly creatures. Sunny commented dryly. But I shrugged it off. Strange was hardly the worst thing I'd been called in my long, cursed life.

“What should I do?” The angel asked, taking in a deep breath and squaring his shoulders. Making himself face his fears.

The others quietly spread out around the edges of the courtyard to watch, finding seats on benches or in the lush green grass that was nurtured by Andy's witch magic and Niamh's fae influence. But I kept my eyes on Elijah. He was an angel. All the other religious nonsense might be complete bullshit, but there was a single thread of truth to it. His kind were more adept at sensing soul energy.

He was probably keenly aware of the last lingering remnants of soul that clung to his new body. He was afraid if he called on his magic in any meaningful way, it would consume the last remaining spark of life granted to that body by its previous resident. It was a valid fear. That was exactly what would happen. But what he didn't understand was that I wouldn't let this casting fail. This might be a new endeavor for me, but I had a good sense of the boundaries of my own capabilities.

Elijah's soul couldn't leave that body now if it tried. The window of possible rejection had passed. Now that he was firmly seated there, the only release would be if I willed it. That body was his until it was destroyed—and even then, I could probably piece it back together. The only other escape was if I died myself. But that was unlikely to happen any time soon, with Sunshine riding along with me.

“Call your magic,” I told the other man. My voice carried authority. I felt it quiver down the thread that connected us, master to servant. Necromancy was my element. Working my magic was the one area where I felt complete and utter confidence.

A tiny shiver lifted through the angel, as he felt the command in my words. His brown eyes widened, and the tips of his golden wings sparkled as magic rippled through the glowing, branch-like appendages. He knew. He felt that connection between us and the power I had over him. And yet the angel didn't react with horror or fear. He just sort of… leaned into the connection.

He felt supported, I realized with a sort of shocked fascination. He felt… safe because I was here.

It is a novel sensation, Sunshine commented, his curiosity piqued, and I completely agreed. We weren't used to instilling faith in people. But I tried not to let my surprise show. I simply nodded my head at the angel, urging him to get on with it.

Closing his eyes, Elijah held his arms loosely at his sides, palms rotated outward, slow, deep breaths lifting his chest. He looked so alive. And he was . Mostly. It was such a strange change from my usual creations.

I could feel Andy and the others around us, their eyes following our every movement. They were afraid of losing the ghost. Idiots. As if I'd ever let that happen. Moving around Elijah, I slipped an arm between his angelic wings and rested my hand on top of his shoulder, well aware of the odd pair we must make—him the embodiment of light and life, and me the gaunt reminder of darkness and death.

I didn't need to touch him to monitor the magic inside him. The bond between us let me know how my creation fared. But I sensed that he would benefit from the physical show of support. Somehow. It was all very strange.

And you are absolutely not enjoying it at all , Sunshine commented.

Shut up, I shot back. I'm concentrating.

Elijah reached for his magic, for the fullness of who he had once been. At first, it was a slow trickle. He was still afraid of what it might do to this new form. But I squeezed his shoulder, and leaned in to speak softly next to his ear. “More,” I demanded. “The old soul will simply be freed. Stop being afraid, Elijah. We're here if anything goes wrong. I'll sense it. You're safe.” I gave a little mental tug at our bond. “Let go.”

That little shudder again. Nearly imperceptible if you weren't paying attention. But I was paying attention, and I felt him lean into my touch. Then, angelic power flooded our bond.

Elijah sucked in a surprised breath. And somewhere behind me I dimly registered Andy shooting to her feet in concern. But I was grinning like a madman as I felt things settle into place. Elijah had just put himself back together, recalled the lost, worn-away remnants of his soul. And it was beautiful.

I was bathed in light as his wings lengthened, glowing brighter, the floating tendrils of energy arching around me. The bond between us hummed as his aura grew, as his angelic soul filled in every last nook and cranny of its new home. Now. Now the connection was solid. Elijah was irrevocably woven into this body. He was as alive as a revenant could possibly be. And no trace of the body's previous soul remained.

“Perfect,” I murmured near his ear, delighted when he shivered again, those strange wings brushing my cold skin and leaving behind a faint tingle of warmth.

I was so blinded by what I was sensing, that it took a moment for my eyes to register what I was actually seeing. Elijah turned to face me, but my hand rested forgotten on his shoulder as I peered into the glowing blue eyes that had been brown just moments before.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice richer and deeper than it had been since his resurrection. “I can never repay what you've done for me, Dyre.”

I dropped my hand from his shoulder and cleared my throat, stepping back as the others moved closer. “It's nothing,” I muttered, like an ass.

Oh, no, Sunshine complained inside my skull. Not another one. How many of these strange infatuations can you have?

I ground my teeth together as I silently snapped at the wraith. I'm not infatuated with anyone. Especially not the corpse I just reanimated. For fuck's sake, Sunny. You suck at reading emotions.

All I got in reply was a mental snort of disbelief.

I ignored him and focused on what was going on around me. Elijah's thread was still humming in my consciousness. Andy rushed him, reaching for his hands as she raked her eyes over him, probably assessing his aura and looking for damage. I crossed my arms over my chest and waited. I could see the state of Elijah's health far more accurately than any earth witch. But of course Andy would fuss over him.

I felt one corner of my lips turn upward at the thought. Fine, so I am infatuated with her. I told the wraith in my head. And this means so much to her. That's why it's so important to me.

He didn't comment.

“You look different,” Andy was saying to the angel. “That's so weird. How is your physical body changing? Is it an illusion?” She turned to me for answers.

I looked Elijah over once more. It was subtle. The eyes were most obvious. They had changed color completely and were now a glowing, ethereal blue that matched the flavor of the angel's power. But I thought his hair might be just a shade lighter than it had been. And I was fairly certain that gaze had been even with my collar earlier, not in line with my chin….

I shrugged, feeling everyone's eyes on me and hating that I owed them a truthful explanation. Because they were going to hate how I knew the answers.

“I expected that might happen,” I said evenly, glancing at Andy to meet her curious gray eyes. “It's not an illusion. Some beings… alter the body of their host when their soul takes over.” Sunshine had been nice enough to leave my physical appearance mostly unchanged, but wraiths weren't exactly keen on physical forms.

I had seen and heard of other instances where that wasn't the case.

I could sense the curiosity and horrified questions as the others stared at me. “Wendigo,” Hasumi murmured, their light voice taking some of the heaviness from the moment. “I've encountered a few over the years. Their emotions consume them. Their emptiness and desperation becomes a hunger they can't control. And it… shapes them. Molds them into the monster they become.”

I nodded. “Yeah, there are a few creatures like that in nature. And… I've read a few accounts of necromancers and other powerful witch-descendants creating monsters when they attempt to reanimate things they shouldn't be reanimating in ways that aren't exactly savory. Either accidentally or on purpose.”

Silence reigned. But as usual, Andy wasn't afraid to break it with a blunt question. “Are you saying Elijah is going to turn into some kind of monster now?”

I could feel the tension in the angel, through our bond. I turned to him, meeting his newly compelling blue gaze. “No. You won't. Your connection to your new body isn't charged with the same sort of motivations as those others.” Malevolence, greed, hatred, hunger for power… there were a lot of ways to create a monster. “And your soul… your energy, is different.” I shook my head. “It's more pure, I suppose. Though I hate admitting that to an angel. Don't let it go to your head.”

He pressed his lips together for a moment as he considered. And… had his mouth shape changed as well? Had those lips always been that chiseled? With that rather fascinating little upward tilt at the edges?

“What will happen to me?” He asked me, open and unflinching. Trusting as always. How could he be so trusting, after all the shit he'd seen?

I turned inward to confer with Sunshine, but he only agreed with my assessment of the situation. “Your soul and your magic will probably continue to slowly reshape that form. To make it into something more familiar.” I shrugged. “Kind of like… restoring equilibrium. Making itself more at home.”

Elijah looked down at his hands, turning them over and back again. “Are you saying… I will look like… me?”

Those blue eyes met mine again, and really, they had no business looking so innocent. The angel had been around just as long as the rest of us. He'd seen some of the same hardships. He could be as coldly pragmatic as the rest of us. And I knew for a fact he was a complete pervert. Why did I feel this overwhelming need to comfort him and reassure him?

It's the maker bond, I believe, Sunny whispered. He's ours to care for now.

My gut twisted at that. Placing another living being in my care seemed like a recipe for disaster. And yet… it sounded right, idiotically.

“Yes,” I told the angel, who was still patiently waiting for my answer. “I think that's probably what will happen. But let me know if you feel any discomfort or if anything feels like it's not right.”

Not that I knew what I'd do. I was confident in my ability to make this revenant. But what did I know about easing pain or looking after the comfort of my creations? The undead usually didn't have those sorts of worries.

My voice came out gruff, but he didn't seem to mind. He just nodded his agreement and murmured, “Thank you,” again.

“Well, that's that,” I said, stepping back. “Practice with your magic a bit, spook. The rest of us need to focus on how to use those artifacts we stole.” I moved toward the doorway, desperately wanting to escape this strange new situation while everyone else was focused on fussing over Elijah. They were all gathered around him in a loose circle as I made my escape.

But I felt eyes on me. I turned to glance over my shoulder as I stepped inside the house, surprised to find Aahil, of all people, watching me with a strange expression on his too-pretty face.

I knew you wanted him , Sunshine said when he caught my thoughts. I think he appreciated your show of power. That is how some attract mates, yes?

For fuck's sake, I snapped, turning away from the jinn's intense golden gaze and stomping off toward my room. Go take a nap in the corner or something. Just let me pretend I'm alone in my own fucking brain for five seconds.

Sunshine's dark chuckle was not amusing. But I had other things to worry about. More important things than silly attractions that absolutely didn't exist or newly alive angels who needed me. I was pretty sure we were all about to get dragged into a war. My time was better spent honing our defenses and coming up with some sort of plan for how to use the powerful magical artifacts we had stolen.

The rest was unimportant.

“Knock it the fuck off!” I snapped out loud, as I stumbled over my own feet, distracted by sunshine's bullshit. Thankfully I was alone in the upstairs hallway by this time, so there was no one to witness my clumsiness or my talking to myself. The damned wraith just smirked at me from our shared mind with all the satisfaction of a mischievous house cat.

He had just shown me an image of Andy and Aahil sharing Elijah's new body, showing the angel what it was like to be alive again.

“The Lovells have to have a spell somewhere in their library for memory erasure,” I muttered darkly. “Don't think I won't use it to scour my own brain, wraith.”

Dark laughter echoed in my head.