Path of the Necromancer Ch. 02

Ian gave a muffled chuckle despite the bruises he was probably going to be sporting the next day. He couldn't think of a better way to go than having those glorious legs wrapped around his head, face pressed firmly against her leaking pussy. He sighed as he felt her juices give way, her release rocketing through her body.

Panting heavily, she released him and looked down at his sopping wet face. Without warning, she pressed her foot against his chest and shoved him hard, flinging him halfway across the room and onto his back --conveniently atop the dropped linens, in fact. Out of breath, he didn't have time to wonder how they got there before Ember was gripping the waist of his jeans and tugging them down around his ankles. "My turn," she hissed.

She swiftly pulled back his tenting boxers and swallowed his cock whole. Ian groaned as his tip hit the back of her throat in one go and his head dropped back. "Fu- fuck!" he mumbled deliriously. Her eyes glittered in delight, her skillful throat muscles massaging him like only a sex demon knew how. And when she used her tongue...

Ian moaned and tried valiantly to hold out for a length of time that wouldn't seem so pitiful. He was powerless to do so, however. Too soon he was erupting into her mouth, which sucked his offering greedily. Afterwards, she looked up at him, red eyes dancing, and smacked her lips. "Now that I've had my appetizer, I think I'd like the main course."

He looked at her with wide eyes. "Uh, hey," he started. "I don't know if..." No sooner had he thought the words then Ember had manipulated his cock, returning it to its rock-hard state. His breathing quickened as she shifted forms, her tail lashing out across the inside of his thigh like a whip. Ian yelped and gazed into her purely evil grin and glowing red eyes. "Aww, shit..." he muttered.

* * * * *

The next morning, Ian was awoken by a knock on the door. Scraps, ever awake and watchful, padded over to the door and opened it cautiously. A boy that couldn't have been older than ten years of age stared up at the revenant with unchecked fear. "Yeees?" the black-clad golem asked imperiously.

The kid's mouth dropped open in awe, like finding out this fearsome creature could talk was the most fascinating revelation since sliced bread. Finally, he managed to stutter, "B-breakfast. It's, uh- I'm supposed to show you the way."

The revenant nodded and said as he shut the door, "Five minutes."

Ember glanced at Ian and smiled devilishly. "We'll just have to make this a quickie then..."

* * * * *

The boy led them to a cafeteria area. After he and Ember loaded up their plates with scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns, they found Forrester waving them over from a table in the far corner of the room. They walked over and joined him, Val, and a tender-looking Bobby. Val blushed and looked away when Ian shot her a glance and Ember smirked. The old man tossed him an envelope with a smug expression and announced, "Welcome to the Night Watch."

Ian caught it and emptied it out onto the table. He was stunned to find a driver's license, phone & charger, credit card, and a set of keys. He picked up the driver's license and stared at it. It looked like one of the pictures he'd taken in high school had been doctored against a blue background. Furthermore, it was horizontally oriented rather than vertically, which was used in Washington State as a way to tell if someone was over 21.

He looked closer and exclaimed, "It has my real name!"

Forrester chuckled. "It's just easier that way. All that matters is that you aren't 'the' Ian Cale who shows up in the system as being on the FBI watchlist. We set you up in the University District -more transients over there and less chance of you being noticed. The phone is untraceable and your apartment is unlisted, though if you get tailed they'll obviously know about it. If that happens, tell us and we'll move you."

Ian did some calculations in his head. The area he was talking about was located to the north and slightly to the east. He was new to the area, but... "Isn't that on the other side of Capitol Hill? That's like two districts over... How am I supposed to react in time to a threat on the Industrial District?" Ian questioned.

Forrester shrugged. "It's less than fifteen minutes if you drive down i-5. I'm fairly certain we can hold out for that long," he pointed out. "And the distance actually works in our favor because it disassociates you with us. It would have been much riskier to put you up in our territory -or in one of the bordering ones as they're run by the groups we have the worst relations with."

Ian nodded and Ember asked, "Just how much of the Industrial District do you control?"

Forrester sighed and the three looked at each other. Finally, Bobby spoke up, "It used to be all of it, but over the years our numbers have thinned. Nowadays, it's just the upper east portion of Industrial, south of the bridge. There was... there used to be a mage with us, but he broke off and started up a group called the Georgetown Syndicate that has been gobbling up our territory to the south."

Val leaned forward and moved salt shakers and condiments around to draw the battle lines, outlining the situation. "If you look at a map, the immediate threats are: Georgetown from the south. To the west across the river there are the warring factions of Delridge. Beacon Hill is pressuring us from the east. Then there's Pioneer Square to the north and the International District to the northeast."

"As you can see," she said, "we're pretty much pinned against the water to the northwest of here. All the factions residing in the surrounding territories see us as the weakest group and are determined to take our territory like they scent blood in the water. With the limited resources we have, well..."

"We're screwed," Bobby clarified helpfully. "We can't even call the northwest safe as the fucking werewolves on Harbor Island control the shipping from there and they'll attack anyone." Ian's insides squirmed as he remembered the first time he'd seen a werewolf. He hadn't thought about them for ages.

For a few moments, he just stared at the arrangement, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. 'How did these people keep this hidden from the public?' he wondered, gaining a smidgen of respect for the Inquisition whose job it was to cover it up. They were diligent, he had to give them that much.

Seeing they were losing him, Forrester spoke up, "Don't think of them as bordering states. There are over a dozen districts and rarely are there clear distinctions between them with how often their area and control changes hands. You can take your car and drive through every one of them in the middle of the day."

He leaned forward and projected with his hands. "Imagine each one is a separate sphere of influence and the various businesses and organizations in them are run by a specific group. In our case, the other groups are taking over the running of our district and replacing them with their own enterprises. Yes, there are physical raids that happen, but for the most part it's all about controlling our interests."

Ian's eyes widened and before he could ask, Forrester rolled his eyes and staved off his question by saying, "No, I don't mean we own 'every' business in the Industrial District -we live out of a warehouse for Christ's sake... just those that deal with and are related to the supernatural communities in some way. They're all regulated differently and they need to interact with people that are on the up-and-up, especially when it comes to the sale and shipping of magical commodities."

Ian took a deep breath and leaned back, trying to look at the situation he found himself in from a distance. What these people were telling him made his head hurt, but he tried to analyze his position empirically. It sounded a lot like he was diving headfirst into someone else's fight without knowing the circumstances or who the other players were.

On the other hand, he had to admit his situation was a lot better than when he'd started. He glanced down at his shiny new phone, one of the spiffy razor-thin touch-screen models, and grimaced. He supposed if he accepted all this he would feel obligated to help them out. Sneaking a glance at Val, he also admitted to himself that he 'wanted' to help them. From what he'd seen, they were good people who were up against a wall.

He sighed and looked to Ember questioningly. She shrugged and asked Forrester with a completely straight face, "How big's the bed in the apartment?"

* * * * *

The warehouse door ground open and Ian felt like he was stepping out into the 'real' world again. In the back of his mind, he doubted if there was really a silent war going on between different Seattle neighborhoods. The surreal experience didn't stop there, however. Parked in front of them was a brand new platinum-colored BMW M5.

Ian made to walk around the car, shooting it an appreciative glance, when Ember poked him in the ribs and cleared her throat. He frowned as she simply waited. His eyes widened. "No..." He fished out his set of keys and flicked through them, glancing at the rubber tags mumbling, "Apartment key... Storage container..." He paused as he saw the telltale key wrapped in black plastic with the tiny BMW propeller logo on it. "Shit..." he muttered.

Ember glanced at the car, then at the rundown warehouse and back. "Where the hell did they get the money for this?"

"They didn't, obviously," Grim said. "You never told that old geezer your last name. I'm betting when whoever fixed you in the system found out that you were a wanted necromancer, their organization, for whatever reason, jumped to the front of the line to try and please you instead of reporting you. Hell, Forrester might have even encouraged it by playing you up a bit so you'd get better treatment and stick around."

Ember laughed, "It seems the underworld in general doesn't care much for the death order on necros. So long as you can benefit them, they're happy to do business." She grinned and swiped the keys from Ian's stunned grasp.

He shot her a look. "Hey!" he exclaimed, but she was already crossing to the driver's side.

"Pff," she laughed. "If you think I'm letting 'you' get first dibs, you can kiss my ass. In fact, we'll add that to your ancillary duties later." Ian made to argue and then sighed. It wasn't worth it. And how often does an eighteen year-old get the chance to be chauffeured around by the hottest chick on the planet... "Guess this is all an attempt to curry favor with you, though," she commented as she gripped the steering wheel excitedly.

As Ian sunk into the black leather of the passenger seat while Scraps got into the back with his bag holding Grim, he sighed dreamily. "It's working..." he murmured.

While the four drove off, Agent Lily Hunter watched them from the other side of the chain-link fence. She'd come as soon as she'd been notified about the warlock victim, knowing it would probably be too late. Calling the Night Watch this morning on the way over though, she'd been confused when they told her a minor regeneration bath was all that was required. When their leader had come to their office the day before, he'd implied the injured person was on his deathbed.

She'd assumed they'd found a mage somewhere to stop the advance of the Hellfire, but she hadn't expected to find the boy that had spared her after they'd raided his motel room. 'Did he somehow managed to help the save the wounded?' she wondered. As she walked towards the front entrance, she decided that perhaps she'd keep her finding to herself. This didn't fit what the department had told them about necromancers at all...

* * * * *

Ember bounced up the stairs of the gated apartment complex, eager to scope out her much improved residence. Ian trailed behind her, eyes locked onto her bubbly ass. Scraps took up the rear carrying his bag. As they reached the top of the stairs, they saw a blonde model built like an Amazon just leaving her room, a basket of laundry in her arms.

Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail and she was wearing sweats and a T-shirt. While she wasn't freakishly huge or well-muscled, she did have maybe an inch on Ian and her arms were toned without an ounce of fat showing. Fit didn't even begin to cover her; she was almost... predatory. She looked up as they trooped up and beamed. "You must be the new folks moving into apartment 22," she stated with just the hint of a Russian accent. "I'm jealous, the previous owners put in a washer and dryer --I've still gotta do mine downstairs."

Ember smiled at her hungrily like she was eying a piece of meat. "Well," she offered, a husky lilt coming to her voice, "you're more than welcome to come use ours anytime."

The girl laughed nervously, then paused and sniffed the air. Ian had already sensed she was a werewolf and waited, wondering why the fates hated him. She frowned as if she couldn't place the scent and shot Scraps a curious glance. After a few moments, she seemed to shrug off whatever had caught her attention. "I'm Kiara," she finally said. "I'll be a sophomore next semester at UW. Do you attend?"

Ian smiled thinly and shook his head. He was entranced by her gold-colored eyes. Not golden-specked, but a pure, rich hue. Having exhausted that line of conversation, she threw them another smile and walked past. As she descended the stairs, she called over her shoulder, "Welcome to the neighborhood."

"She looks yummy," Ember commented, not at all quietly. Ian grunted noncommittally, trying to calculate the odds that his new apartment just 'happened' to be near where a supernatural creature lived.

"Oi," he asked Grim as they entered the apartment next to Kiara's, "I thought those fur bags were all supposed to live in the forest and shit..."

Grim sighed and grumbled something about Twilight lowering his IQ. "The actual ritual that created them originated in ancient Greece. They've adapted with the times," he explained. "If I remember correctly, there are packs all throughout the Pacific that have formed a sort of conglomeration to control the shipping market."

Ember nodded. "Most supernatural creatures keep to themselves, preferring to be the wolves among the sheep," she pointed out. "The Were have a strong sense of community, though. They couldn't afford to not be competitive just so they could support each other through each generation. A hundred years ago, that meant shipbuilding and trading. Now, they have roots in nearly every type of business and are very much a visible player in the magical community."

Conversation dropped off as they viewed their surroundings. Ian was impressed. Going through the door you were met with a well-equipped kitchen with a marble island to your left and a small unenclosed dining room on the right with a bookcase up against the wall.

As you traversed further into the dwelling, a large living room took up center stage with three doors taking up the left wall, the flat screen TV taking up the right, and what looked to be a small room that was probably for the laundry in the far corner. Looking directly across from him on the other side of the living room, he could see a sliding door leading to a balcony beyond.

Ian checked out the rooms the three doors led to and found the balcony connected with the master bedroom which had an attached bath. Then there was a second bedroom and a guest bathroom. The complex already had a gym and thus images of a pool table flittered through his mind as he envisioned turning the second bedroom into a 'man cave.'

The entire place was fully furnished and there was even a laptop on a side table. "Shit..." he muttered. Going out onto the balcony, all he could see was the building on the other side and the street below. Shrugging, he went back inside and was struck by the image of Ember stripping in the middle of the room.

She turned to him and in a nonchalant tone admonished, "You have yet to give me my daily scrubbing." Ian just about ripped his shirt off in his rush to get undressed.

Grim commented, "You never used to be this obsessed with sex."

Ian was about to shoot back some offhand remark about horny young males when he stopped and looked suspiciously at Ember. She admired her nails, looking entirely too innocent. Finally, she looked up and pouted. "It's not my fault. I secrete pheromones," she whined in a little girl's voice, stamping her foot. Ian's eyes widened.

She sighed, and in the next instant her demeanor changed to that of pure woman, oozing sexuality as she stalked towards him. "...And there's not a damn thing you can do about it," she declared in a lusty growl. Her hand reached up and slapped him lightly on the cheek. "So shut up and get naked before I take your hesitance as an offer to play rough."

As she turned and walked slowly, sensuously to the bathroom, Ian thought he was going to explode. Then he caught side of her perfect heart-shaped ass bobbing naked to the rhythm of her hips. He supposed his pride could take one for the team... Ian chuckled as he finished removing his clothes and headed after her. 'Who am I kidding?' he thought. 'I don't deserve her in the first place.' It was times like these she kept him honest.

* * * * *

After their steamy shower, the couple lay naked on the bed. Ian was on his back with his arms crossed behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. Ember was molded to him, face buried in the crook of his neck, one leg draped over him. Her fingers were playing with the tip of his hard cock like a favorite pastime she could do unconsciously; a Rubik's cube savant that could solve the puzzle in her sleep.

Ian sighed contentedly. Hot shower... check. Mind-blowing sex... check. A pair of mouthwatering tits mashed against him... fucking check. He could die happy right now with no regrets. He was unable to believe how much his life had changed in the past couple of days. A slight frown marred his features as he considered the lotus fruit he was being offered. Thinking critically, he tried to understand the intentions of his mysterious benefactors. They hadn't revealed themselves or made their motivations known, which meant their aims were at least partially the same as Forrester's.

He let out an involuntary moan as Ember pinched the head of his cock, keeping him from release. He chuckled softly and reached down to stroke her hair. He closed his eyes and delved deeper. What he'd been given was nice --especially since he'd gone into it with virtually nothing. However, a midrange luxury vehicle and a two-bedroom apartment with no view weren't exactly breaking the bank if these guys were a high-end, top-notch organization.

This could mean two things if he was to believe Forrester that they really wanted him badly. Other they were extremely savvy and didn't want to give him everything upfront, stringing him along with goodies until he did what they wanted, or they 'weren't' on top of the food chain. Guessing they'd use the most tempting gifts they could obtain to get him hooked, he was leaning towards the second option.

If he then assumed his investors weren't in charge of running things over in Central, he could be pretty damn sure they wanted to be. This desperation would also account for why they'd ignored the little tidbit about him being a necromancer so long as it would get them what they wanted. The bad news was that they would likely be sending him against whoever 'was' top dog. He grimaced at that line of thought, but accepted that it was other this or to go back on the streets. He flexed his neck muscles and rolled his shoulders as he thought about the future.

There might have been other offers depending on who found him first, but Ian was satisfied with what he'd been given so far. He understood and accepted that the people using him had their own self-interests at heart. It was decision time and he chose to stick with it. It was going to be a challenge facing whatever they threw at him, but at least he wouldn't get bored. He chuckled as he remembered Grim's words, 'time to see if all that waiting and training will pay off...'