Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
Even where I was outside, I could still hear Ambrose making phone calls in his studio. He so earnestly believed that he could stop the necromancer by calling on his friends. It was endearing. It made me love him even more.
And it terrified me.
I didn’t want to be right about what would happen when Gaufrid arrived. I wanted to be as positive as Ambrose was that we had a fighting chance. That with enough courage and cunning we could win.
But I’d lived through this before and the only thing that had saved me then had been that Gaufrid hadn’t read all of the warnings before trying a new spell. He’d died when the spell drained every drop of blood from him to power itself. It had been an accident. A quirk of fate.
I had no faith in that happening twice.
And this time I had a mate who wasn’t going to leave my side regardless of how I begged him. He’d stay, he’d try, and I’d be forced to kill him.
Maybe that was for the best. I would be quick and efficient about it.
Ambrose wouldn’t suffer if I did it. The heart that would break was my own, and whenever Gaufrid’s reign ended and I was given a choice of assignments, I’d ask for death instead.
Without Ambrose, there would be no reason to go on living.
“My gods,” Ambrose suddenly said behind me, “I can feel the despair wafting off of you. Stop that. Nothing’s over.”
He made me smile. “You’re wonderfully positive.”
He snorted and crossed his arms. “You say that like it’s a flaw.”
I shrugged.
“Oh, seriously, stop it.” He didn’t quite stomp his foot but it was close. “I’ve called Vera and everyone else I could think of who might be able to help. A whole coven and about seventeen other people are on their way up here.”
I sighed and closed my eyes.
“Cannon fodder,” the ghoul said. “Nice.”
“ Excuse me? ” Ambrose screeched. “They are not!”
“I can’t even be killed and I left,” the ghoul continued. “All your friends are going to do is provide food.”
“They’re not coming here to cater a party,” Ambrose said with a sneer.
“Sorry, I meant that they’re coming here to be the food.”
Ambrose gasped in outraged horror.
“Either because Gaufrid eats them, or because we’ll get to eat their dead bodies afterward.”
“Alright stop,” I snapped. “He doesn’t need to worry about that.”
“I’m not worried about that,” Ambrose said, “because it’s not going to happen.”
I opened my mouth to contradict him, but closed it again. Part of me wanted to be realistic with him, while the rest of me wanted him to believe we’d win right up to the end.
“Fine, Debbie Downer,” Ambrose said with a snarl, “you and Sick Fuck Sally can go ahead and think we’re going to lose, everyone’s going to die, or whatever else, but I’m going to have faith and do everything I can to beat that fucking necromancer back down into Hell .”
I loved him so.
Grabbing Ambrose, I kissed him and held him close. I could feel the fire inside me burning hotter as he moaned against me, little fingers pulling at my fur to keep me near. He lifted his leg and hooked his knee at my waist as he ground his hips against me.
“You know, I would’ve said you’d kiss like a dog, but there it is. You really don’t.”
I snapped my attention to the ghoul and growled at him. “I’m no dog , you stinking carcass.”
The foul creature stepped back, his hands raised. “No, you are not. So sorry.”
Ambrose patted me before holding my hand and turning toward the ghoul. “You two are really going to need to get along if we’re all fighting the same fight here.”
“Uh, no, actually,” the ghoul said, “we won’t be fighting with you.”
“Excuse me?”
“They won’t be able to resist Gaufrid’s spell,” I explained, “and since they can flee the area, it’s best that they do so.”
“How is that best?” Ambrose asked with a frown.
“Then they can’t be enslaved and forced to fight.”
“Oh.” Ambrose sighed and leaned against me. “Yeah, Bozboq, you and your people should go. Just try and stay out of sight better, okay? You’re creeping everyone out by getting caught on camera.”
I didn’t bother saying that Gaufrid’s arrival and future plans would attract far more attention than a few ghouls walking around in dead bodies would. Necromancers weren’t subtle.
“But, hey,” the ghoul said, “if you give your friends knives and cut us up, we’ll have to go find new bodies before we can fight again.”
“Ooo, okay!” Ambrose said excitedly. “Thanks for the info.”
Just then, a car door slammed around the side of the house. Ambrose pulled back and grinned. “They’re already arriving! Stick around, Saph, and we’ll find out how many people can see you.”
Ambrose practically skipped out of sight. I could scent several people, mostly women, who I didn’t recognize. Instinct had me wanting to run and hide like I always did, but I’d stay for Ambrose.
The damn ghoul gave a whistle, and ten ghouls walked out of the mausoleum.
I snarled to know they’d taken over my space like that.
At least I’d locked the basement door so they hadn’t been able to get into the house.
They each nodded at me as they followed the one I refused to give a name to around the other side of the house and out of sight.
I was glad to see them go for more than just because they were horrible creatures.
Their departure meant less conflict for Ambrose and his friends.
As he walked back into view, I saw that those with him were various sizes and colors, but they were all just as delicate-looking as my mate.
Each of them was dressed in black with corsets, lace, and leather.
Were they trying to look ready for battle?
They carried wooden staffs of varying lengths, not a real weapon on any of them.
We were going to fail.
And then every one of them came to a sudden halt, the whites of their eyes showing and mouths hanging open as they stared at me. All of them could see me.
Was that significant? I wanted it to be. I wanted some kind of inherent magic to be present in all those who could see me. Something that would give us an advantage.
A person whose gender I could not easily discern marched up to me. “What are you?”
“Hellhound.”
They nodded. “Who’s your keeper?”
I eyed them suspiciously. They were unsurprised by my answer and they knew I had a keeper in Hell?
Ambrose came trotting over with the rest of them. “Can all of you see Saph?” he asked with clear excitement.
“Saph, is it?” the inquisitive one asked me. “If you won’t tell me your keeper’s name, can you summon them?”
“They aren’t the type of demon to be summoned.”
One of the women fanned herself, and Ambrose leaned into her and giggled behind his hand. I didn’t understand why.
“Maybe not by their charges,” the human said, “but we’ll see what we can do for you.”
They thought to summon my keeper? To what end?
Igmaloch had known what had happened to me when Gaufrid enslaved me last time.
He’d done nothing to intervene. It hadn’t been his job.
Trorak, a higher level demon, had given me the choice of position afterward on my mother’s order.
Neither had mentioned that they could have stopped the necromancer or done anything to help me.
“Demons don’t help anyone,” I told them. “Not me. Not you. No one.”
They shrugged. “They’ll do a lot to keep the balance.”
“A necromancer doesn’t unbalance good and evil.”
“They do actually, but you have to know who’s attention to get.”
I looked to Ambrose. “Who is this person?”
He shrugged and pointed at the woman he’d laughed with. “They’re part of LaRhonda’s coven. We’ve never met.”
“A witch?” I looked at them again, confused. Normally, I could see a witch’s power like an aura around them. This person had nothing.
“Call me Morning,” they said and held a hand out to me.
I hesitated to touch them, but wasn’t sure why. When I shook their hand, at the very first contact, a spark shot between us like a tiny bolt of lightning.
Morning smiled. “Thank you, Saph.”
They walked away from me, the rest of the coven following them, and I felt a bit like I might have given something away that I hadn’t meant to part with.
Ambrose came over and held both my hands. No physical sparks, but something still felt like it passed between us.
“I’m sure they’re harmless,” he whispered. “They mean well and all. And sometimes I think LaRhonda’s spells are comforting. Like just knowing that someone’s willing to try and help, you know?”
I grunted noncommittally because I had a feeling Morning was leaps and bounds above LaRhonda in talents.
“Anyway, they jumped at the chance to help, though I think it’ll be more of a moral support than actual fighting. Vera’s nephew does MMA, so she’s sending him and his friends for the actual ass-kicking stuff.”
I liked Vera, but she was another person who had no business coming here to fight the agents of a necromancer. “Vera’s not coming, right?”
“Goddess no,” Ambrose said on a chuckle. “Can you imagine?”
I could and very much didn’t want to.
Cupping Ambrose’s flushed cheek, I told him, “When this begins, I want you inside the house.”
“Nope.”
“Ambrose…”
“I’m serious about helping you.”
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment. He was coming from a place of loyalty and devotion—I couldn’t forget that. Misguided and naive though he was, his determination to stay by my side made my heart fit to burst.
He loved me.
“Then I need you to pay attention to everything,” I asserted, “and recognize when there’s nothing more you can do. That’s when you take everyone and run.”
He stared into my eyes for a long moment before he nodded. “Okay.”
I didn’t believe him, but I pulled him into my arms anyway.
That was when a distant howl cut through the quiet of the evening. Oisian, my enslaved counterpoint from Ravensgate, had just issued a warning.
Gaufrid was coming.