Read The Dead (The Thaumaturge Series Book 1) Online
Authors: Cal Matthews
Tags: #Gay & Lesbian, #Literature & Fiction, #Fiction, #Gay, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban, #Genre Fiction, #Lgbt, #Gay Fiction
The Dead (The Thaumaturge Series Book 1) (32 page)
“I wouldn't hurt you,” he said right away, before we had even caught our breaths.
I moved out from underneath him, shifting with our legs still tangled, stickiness between my legs. My breath caught against the cage of my ribs.
“I don't want you to,” I said, getting comfortable with one arm propped behind my head. He tugged the sweaty, damp sheets up over us and snuggled down against me, shamelessly rubbing his head against me like a big cat.
“Afraid you would like it too much?”
“No. It's not that. You could kill me. And I don't want to be your food. That creeps me out.” I paused, debating whether or not to continue. Then, “Don't hold me down like that again, okay?”
He looked up at me, his amber eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. I swallowed hard. Did he really think I needed reminding that he wasn't human?
“You didn't like it?” he asked, sounding surprised. “Sure as hell seemed like you liked it. Maybe I'll tie you up next time.”
“Not like I can stop you,” I replied, but I couldn't deny the effect the words had on me. Christ, did I really want him to do that? Was I harboring some secret cache of S & M fantasies?
He leaned over to kiss me. “You can tie me up if you want.”
“Be like tying up a tiger with yarn.”
He grinned wolfishly. “I'd play along. Meow.”
I smiled back and put my arm around his shoulders, drawing him closer. My eyes heavy, my body relaxing into the bed. I felt him kiss me, the bed shifting.
“I'm going now, love,” he said quietly. “See you tomorrow.”
I snuggled down into the bed, and felt him tuck the blankets over me. “Love you.”
A brief touch on my face, the ghost of fingers. If he answered, I didn't hear him.
I slept all of the next day and most of the evening, too. When the sun went down, Leo appeared with Chinese take-out and I ate it snuggled against him on the couch. I called Cody and declined to leave a message when he didn’t answer. Leo took my dishes into the kitchen and fed Johnny for me. We didn’t talk about the witches. We watched movies until midnight, and then I went back to bed. Leo didn’t come with me.
Marcus knocked on the door to my trailer about eight the next morning, and I almost didn't answer. I hid in the kitchen, not yet dressed and still damp from my shower. After yesterday’s R & R, I felt enormously recovered, but I was no hurry to face the outside world yet. That would require not only talking to Marcus, but also evaluating the damage at my store. And examining my new status as stone-cold killer. That one was pretty low on my to-do list.
I clutched a coffee mug in one hand, and cowered against the stove, peeking out at the idling car in the road. I didn’t see Morgan, but Shaina lounged in the backseat, bent intently over her phone. Jim, though, stared right at me from the driver’s seat, and I hurriedly let the curtain drop back into place. I held my breath, hoping that Marcus would just get in the car and go, but when he started to turn away, panic seized me and I rushed to the door and flung it open.
He turned halfway down the steps, his face drawn and tired and hopeful. He held a shopping bag full of my clothes and wordlessly held it out towards me. We looked at each other for a second and then I cracked open the screen door.
“Come in,” I said and he glanced once at the waiting car and followed me inside.
I grabbed a stray sweater out of the front coat closet and pulled it on with my loose jeans. It itched and smelled like a thrift store, but it offered some sort of protection, a barrier against the intimacy that we had shared. I sat on the recliner and waited. He carefully set my things on the floor and looked at me.
“We're leaving,” he said. I nodded. He paused, and then sat down on the edge of the couch, close enough for our knees to touch. “We took care of the – situation.”
“He’s gone for good?”
I couldn’t interpret the look in his eyes. “Yeah,” he said and then swallowed hard. “Yes,” he said more firmly. “He’s gone for good.”
“And Morgan?” I asked. “She’s not with you. What did you do with her?”
“She’s,” he swallowed again, convulsively. His eyes flicked away from me and he studied the far wall with concentration. “She’s under control. You don’t need to worry about her.”
“Thank you,” I said with sincerity. He nodded and we sat in uncomfortable silence until he shifted and raised his eyes to me imploringly.
“Ebron-”
“It was a mistake, Marcus,” I said softly.
He looked stricken. “It wasn't. You know it wasn't.”
I rubbed my hand over my face; I still hadn't shaved and probably looked more like a mountain man than ever.
“What do you want me to say?” I asked.
“Can we keep in touch?” he replied, and I was dismayed to see the tears welling in his eyes.
“Marcus, what did you think that this was going to be?” I asked. “Even without all the crazy witch stuff, we still wouldn't ever work.”
“You could come down and visit me. You'd love it, I could show you . . . ” he trailed off as I shook my head.
“I'm not going anywhere,” I said. “I'm sorry, but, no.”
He looked away, biting his lip. “I just want you to know that I never intended for this. I honestly didn't know that they were going to use me to lure you out. And I wanted to thank you for saving my life.”
“Anytime,” I said, smiling a little. “Uh, Marcus, you guys won't say anything? About me, I mean?”
He did some sort of weird Boy Scout crossing motion over his heart. “Swear. We've all agreed to a blood pact. No one will ever know.”
I sagged a little in relief, even as I wanted to roll my eyes at the “blood pact.”
Witches. I won't miss the drama
. “Thank you. And, thanks for . . . you know. It was fun.”
“It was,” he said softly, then cleared his throat. “So, uh. I guess you and the vampire made up, huh?”
“Yeah,” I shrugged. “Yeah, we're good.”
He looked at me curiously. “He wouldn't kill me, you know? I asked him to. So I could help you.”
“I know. He told me. Thank you.”
He waved away the thanks. “I just mean that, he said that if he hurt me, you wouldn't ever forgive him. He said that he couldn't risk it.”
I shrugged again, waiting for him to get to the point.
“Just saying,” Marcus said. “He cares about you a lot. That's good, I guess. For you, I mean.”
“Marcus-”
He smiled wistfully. “Sorry. I really am trying to be a good loser here.” He leaned forward suddenly and pressed a piece of paper into my hand, like he had the first time I had met him in my shop. I glanced down and saw a phone number scribbled on the paper.
“Just keep this . . .in case things ever change, okay?” Marcus stood and I did, too. There was a beat, and then, his face set with determination, he flung his arms around me and gave me a spine-cracking hug.
“I'm really glad I met you,” he said into my shoulder, and then he pulled back and headed to the door. He glanced back at me once and smiled.
“Bye,” he said.
“Bye.”
I went to the window and watched him walked to the car and get in. Jim touched his shoulder and from the backseat, Shaina reached up to put her hand on his back. It was good to see, to know that he had a family that supported him, no matter what.
Sighing, I put my coffee mug in the sink and went to get my boots.
I was late getting to the store and my least favorite customer was waiting impatiently on the sidewalk, stomping her feet and blowing warm air in between her palms.
“Hey, Misty,” I said, pausing in front the door. “I’m actually closed for inventory today –”
“You weren’t here yesterday,” she said accusingly.
“I know,” I said. “That’s because I’m doing some cleaning and inventory and –”
“I’m sure that you can brew me a cup of tea,” she interrupted. “Now that you’re here.” She was a good foot shorter than me, her unattractive old-lady hair hairdo barely coming up to my chest, but her hands always looked too much like claws. Her teeth bit into her lower lip and when she licked her lip, her tongue looked, I don’t know – spongy. I swallowed a mouthful of spit.
“Sorry,” I said, without making an effort to sound as such. I ease my way butt-first into the doorway, trying to block it but she gripped the handle and tugged it open. I considered shoving back, using my superior height and strength to knock her on her ass, but before I could act, she wormed her shoulder under my armpit and stepped around me.
Alarmed, I hurried behind her, peering deep into the store. Nothing seemed amiss, no blood or brains or weapons scattered around. It appeared that someone had even swept. I huffed a sigh of relief, and I peeled off my coat. Misty bounced on her toes while I set my laptop bag down behind the counter.
“The usual, Misty?” I said, not bothering to disguise my annoyance.
She harrumphed at me, eyeing me with small, red-rimmed eyes. My gaze lingered on her for a second; she looked like she’d been crying.
“Here,” she said, while I started working on her specialty blend. She could have made it in the convenience of her own home and saved herself a buck fifty. I glanced up as she dropped the morning paper on the counter in front of me.
“Oh, thanks,” I said distractedly, and went back to measuring out tea leaves.
“So sad about that, huh?”
“Huh?” I looked up again, but she was staring at the paper. I followed her eyes to the front page.
Upside down, it took me a second to make out the headline. The words sort of swam around. I dropped the jar, scattering tea leaves, and snatched the paper off the counter.
“Dead body found in Heckerson trash bin,” I read out loud.
“They said that she was exsanguinated,” Misty told me. She leaned in a little. “That means drained of blood.”
My stomach felt funny. My fingers sort of tingled. I looked up at Misty, looking for any clue or accusation but she just stared back at me, her red-ringed eyes impassive. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but an exsanguinated corpse was bound to involve me somehow. Such was the state of my life.
I looked back at the newspaper, and the words swam in front of my eyes into a gray and white blur. I thought of all the things that I had done wrong, and then I thought of all the things that I would fight to keep.
I was so sick of dead bodies ruining my life.
About the Author
Cal Matthews is a Montana native, a lover of animals and the outdoors, and a storyteller at heart. Internet quizzes have sorted Cal into Ravenclaw.
Come chat on Twitter at https://twitter.com/malcatthews
Visit me at www.calmatthews.com
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