CHAPTER THREE #3
"What does it mean?" Wyatt asked softly, still feeling the pleasure of having his beloved so close and touching him.
"Something has given them focus and a purpose.
The evil coursing through this town is more than just mindless energy and life force suckers.
" He commented so casually that it made Wyatt think perhaps it wasn't a big deal, but it was a big deal; it was just that the Necromancer had probably seen this a million times before.
“Which means there might be something controlling this plague or feasting on the energy it consumes. I’ll know once the shadow blight is abolished and I can see what is left behind.”
Wyatt did not miss the fact that Atticus was still holding his hand, and Wyatt made no move to pull away; the feel of his hand was magical. "We have revenants and shadow blight and maybe something controlling it all?" he asked.
"They're related, and considering the strength, I would guess that the shadow blight is growing or attempting to grow faster by gathering more revenants. It's a step process." The way he said it sounded so calm, academic, even though Wyatt fought the smile that turned the edges of his mouth.
The soldiers descended, did a sweep, and rooted out the last of the revenants and burned the remains as instructed by Atticus. He kept his eyes on Wyatt throughout, and his attention had an edge to it that Wyatt could feel. He noticed that Atticus' scent was sharpening as well.
The town was set; Atticus had prepared the rites, and the charms and enchantments were placed along with a boundary spell that trapped it within the town.
It could not run or attempt to flee to neighboring communities once the ritual began.
Wyatt's injury was healed, but he kept the silk handkerchief where it was and held its softness in his grip.
They made their way back to the Palace with Atticus remaining closer to him. Their proximity had shrunk to less than a foot apart. It felt natural to Wyatt to have him close, and it was a struggle to resist reaching out and taking his hand.
Once they were back in the car, Wyatt sent a report to Silas outlining the activities of the Necromancer and his intent, along with the timeline Atticus had described.
He also told him of Atticus' belief that there was something controlling the revenants and, in turn, would control the blight.
That information did not go down well, which was expected.
“Was the attack in the cemetery a targeted attack?” Wyatt asked as they made their way back to the Palace.
"I believe so, yes," Atticus responded. "It was testing me. My presence has confused it, and it's trying to get a read on my abilities."
"Does that change anything that you have in place, anything that is already planned?"
"No, but once the blight has been destroyed, the force controlling it will also need to be neutered; otherwise, it could give rise to the blight once again."
"We need to find out what it is," Wyatt responded, and Atticus nodded.
The night would be guarded as before, with extra protection surrounding the Palace.
Master DuCane feared for his beloved and all the other human and half-human beloveds.
They were in danger, and with the boundary spells, the evil may attempt to infiltrate the coven lands.
When Wyatt mentioned the worry to Atticus, he shook his head and turned to regard him directly and laid his hand once again on Wyatt's forearm as before.
"There is nothing for the residents of the Palace to fear.
" He began. "The evil which has infected the town will not come here tonight.
I am the Necromancer of Cultus Mortis; nothing spawned from the loathsome dead will come near me and therefore will not enter the Palace.
" He was casual and clear as always, as if he were repeating something that was common knowledge.
Wyatt sent that information to Silas, knowing that it would be a relief for many.
Wyatt watched his beloved Necromancer and realized as the hours passed that he would not be able to walk away.
He should say it; he should tell him rather than pretend distance and ignore what he was feeling.
Atticus was aware of there being something between them.
He made vague statements throughout the course of the day but had not spoken out directly.
Wyatt remained by the door waiting and wondering why he was being such a coward.
The connection, in his mind and body, was growing, and his vampire was scratching at his consciousness, seeking release.
Atticus, such a fine and proper man, such a powerful mystic, such a beautiful man, belonged to him, and he would not be able to deny that fact, and yet he remained silent and rooted to the spot.
He didn't know how he would broach the subject, but before their time together ended, he would make himself clear; he swore he would make himself clear. With that thought settled, he was able to relax somewhat. His skin was still tight, and his breathing sometimes stilted, but he was managing.