Path of the Necromancer Ch. 02

Ember bit his neck and sat up with a throaty laugh. "You're thinking too loud," she teased, as she threw a leg over him, mounting his pulsing member. Ian moaned as she sunk down his length. "So, have you decided?" she asked rocking her hips.

"Decided?" he asked innocently, rubbing her velvety smooth legs as she straddled him. She threw him a saucy look and twitched her hips, drawing a wince from her cheeky lover. "You know they have an agenda?"

He chuckled. "Everyone has an agenda," he mused. "However, I think it's an acceptable trade. Before I hand them what they want on a silver platter though, I think I'll pay them a visit to renegotiate my contract."

She smiled as she raised her hips, her spines dragging along his length and making him raise his hips involuntarily. "Good," she murmured, "'cause I really like the apartment." She paused before adding with a wicked grin, "And the neighbors." Ember rode him faster and squeezed his cock in a way that boggled his mind.

"Oh shit," he cried out. "That's cheating..." Her melodious laugh echoed around the room and she shifted forms just enough to summon her tail. As she felt herself let go, her new appendage tickled his balls and a single spine rubbed against the underside of his cockhead. He arched his back as she caused his mind to blank and drove his prick deep inside her as he exploded.

She fell atop him as they panted heavily. She grinned up at him. "You're getting pretty good," she giggled. He grinned down at her and started tickling her.

"Pretty good?" he accused in mock indignation. "'Just' pretty good, huh?"

She laughed, squirming around and screaming, "Stop! No... cut it out!" She turned and hit him playfully. Of course, playful for her was punching him in the gut so hard he doubled over. "I warned you," she pointed out as she stood and began fixing her hair. Ian was trying to breathe and laugh at the same time, currently failing miserably on both accounts.

"Now," she told him. "Get dressed. You're taking me shopping." On the way over, Ian had called the number on the back of the credit card and found that he had a ten thousand dollar a month spending limit. He'd originally thought that was pure gold, comparing it to the allowance his parents used to leave him. As he looked at Ember as she danced around the room picking up stray articles of clothing, he began to reconsider that assumption.

* * * * *

The next day while he and his companions were out eating (though only two actually consumed anything), he received a text that told him to show up that night at an address a few blocks from the warehouse the Night Watch ran. He hummed in curiosity when he saw the words 'escort duty' attached. "Looks like it's starting already," Ember said as he looked up.

"No rest for the living," Grim commented, chuckling at his own joke.

That night, all four rested in the car as it was pouring rain. Ian chuckled and rested his head back. Ember looked at him curiously and he explained, "Just trying to figure out what to call my current occupation... Contractor, mercenary, hired muscle?"

She gave a throaty laugh and ruffled his hair. "That's okay, baby. I'll handle the heavy lifting. I know how delicate you are..."

"I guess we know who wears the pants in this relationship," Grim observed. Ian just shook his head and laughed at the good-natured ribbing.

Finally, a van pulled up down the street and flashed its high beams twice. They got out and entered it through the back seeing Bobby, Val, and some of the other kids --most of whom he recognized from that night in the alleyway. They greeted each other all around as the van drove off and Bobby outlined the planned events of the evening.

"Should be an easy run tonight," the enthusiastic captain advised. "We're picking up a shipment of goblin-crafted energy cores from Pike Place Market and delivering them to one of our factories that'll use them as the main component for the order of wizard staves we have lined up. Then we're dropping off a crate of chimera eggs bound for Japan to the werewolves."

Ian crinkled his brow. "I thought you were all at war with each other," he asked in confusion.

"We are," Bobby confirmed, shrugging his shoulders, "but the orders still need to be filled. Have to play nice with each other, all the while making sure the other doesn't stab you in the back. 'Cept for the werewolves, of course. When I say 'drop off,' I mean we drop the crate at the delivery point and take off..."

"The danger," Val spoke up, not sharing her brother's confidence in how smoothly tonight would run, "is that other factions not involved in the trade will likely attack us as a form of financial sabotage. If we fail to complete our delivery, the buyers will look elsewhere. Also, our sponsors lose money, which means they pay us less or possibly shift their support to another group altogether."

Ian winced as he felt another headache coming on. Oblivious, Val continued, "The most likely group to hit us is the Tiandihui, a Chinese organization that actually predates the triads. They have a branch based out of the International District. Not only are they close to our route, but they were the ones we beat out for the contract."

Ember giggled as their situation worsened. "This might actually turn out to be fun," she stated, getting excited. The others shot her incredulous looks. Scraps just memorized the map Bobby had placed in front of them.

Roughly ten minutes later, they arrived at Pike Place through a delivery entrance that smelled of fish. It was actually a fairly efficient process as a dozen ewok-looking individuals came out of the shadows and loaded up the back with two giant crates wrapped indiscriminately. Ian tried to peek into one of their hoods and Val elbowed him in the ribs. "They don't like that," she murmured redundantly.

They all squeezed back into the van, their knees resting against the crates and took off back to their territory. Ian was actually starting to get a bit bored. Just then, as if the fates had heard him, multiple black sedans approached from behind with their high beams on. Ian could see them accelerate through the back windows and try to box the van in.

"Why don't they just shoot out the tires?" Ian asked as Ember was thrown into him, their wheelman swerving to evade the pursuers.

"Mi- shit!" Val tried to explain as she hit the back of her head. "That might flip us. They want the cores intact to ransom back to the buyer."

"That's actually happened before?" Grim asked incredulously at her definite tone.

She glared at him. "I told you we had no mages..."

Ian nodded and said, "Whelp, I guess that's my queue." He turned the handle on the door while they were still moving at 60mph and said, "Go get 'em." The others watched in shocked disbelief as Scraps jumped out of the speeding van, hit the asphalt, and didn't so much as roll as glide over it before smashing into the nearest chasing vehicle. Shrapnel of every kind flew in all directions and the sound of metal tearing and crunching rang out.

The car behind it managed to veer out of the way, shuddering to a halt just before it could run into a building, but the one behind that saw the stopped and crumpled obstruction too late to turn away. "Hey oh..." Ian commented mildly as the last car rear-ended the first and the back end came up off the pavement before slamming down again. "Two for the price of one..." They got onto the expressway and began to relax again as the rain died down.

Ember glanced out the window. "So, uh... What about Scraps?"

"He'll catch up," Grim remarked, unconcerned. It turned out not to matter in the greater scheme of things because as they took the off-ramp, there was an ambush set up. The same type of cars moved out to block the narrow one-lane exit. On pure instinct, the driver of the van swerved off the road and down a grassy embankment, bumpily getting them down onto a side street.

It seemed their pursuers were ready for that though as a car slammed into the side of the van, pinning it to a brick building to their left. As the van grinded against the structure, more cars showed up, pinning them in. Ian sighed at having to do the dirty work and opened the backdoors.

Guns opened fired and the bullets seemed to melt away as they came into contact with his invisible shield. Using his will alone, he began lifting bodies a dozen feet or so up into the air and letting them drop down again. Suddenly Ember slammed into him, knocking them both to the ground as a wave of compressed sound screeched over them and in into the windows of the building beyond, shattering them and exploding glass in all directions.

"It's the banshee!" one of Bobby's lieutenants cried as they huddled in the van. Val tried to jump out to reach him, but Bobby wrapped an arm around her and hauled her back. He took out a handgun from somewhere and began firing around the door. Ian, his ears ringing, got to his feet, trying to identify the threat.

Ember dragged him behind one of the conveniently-parked sedans as another blast rang out along where they'd just been. "Keep her busy," Ember told him, then streaked off into the night. Ian stared after her, incredulous. He didn't even know what this thing was.

"Hey, Grim," Ian shouted as he willed one gunman's head through the glass window he'd been peeking around. "You been holdin' out on me? What the fuck's a banshee?"

"Never thought you'd actually see one," the ghostly presence provided helpfully. "Switch your shields, it's an elemental blast." Ian did as he'd suggested and dived out from behind the sedan as a wailing blast totaled it. Ian saw the banshee standing next to a black car surrounded by goombas and almost stopped in his tracks. She was a short Asian girl with bubblegum pink hair and a black gothic dress that had ruffles and everything.

She thrust her arms out to her sides as if gathering energy, strands of her hair standing on end. He was so entranced by the display, he almost forgot to dodge as she screeched again and a wall of force thundered past him. He tried to shove at her with his will and was stopped cold, hitting a barrier that was so strong it seemed to push him back. He didn't want to raise the dead, use Spiritfire, or anything else that would give him away, but if Ember didn't hurry the hell up...

The girl smirked at him and mocked, "Not much of a warlock if you can't even cast Hellfire..." Just then, a winged formed dived out of the darkness behind them and a wave of Hellfire rained down on their position, incinerating her comrades and singing her dress as she dived out of the way.

She came up with a shocked expression and fired a flurry of blasts at Ember seemingly from the hip. Each one missed as the succubus didn't seem to dodge so much as vanish into thin air and appear just off the mark. Finally, the girl seemed to have had enough and wailed what seemed to be a barrage of widely dispersed shrills that were less powerful but succeeded in buffeting Ember back.

The banshee retreated with purpose, diving into the one surviving sedan and it sped off into the darkness. Ian stared after it with a stunned expression, doubting if this night could get any stranger. Ember landed softly next to him, dusting herself off. "Miss me?" she asked cheekily.

He grinned and slapped her ass. "How 'bout you move those cars so the van can get out, Ms. Heavy Lifter?" he asked audaciously. She squeaked in surprise and her eyes blazed with lust as she gazed at him. The passengers were a bit shook up and the van was making noises Ian didn't think were indicative of a clean bill of health, but aside from that they made it to the production warehouse without incident.

While they sat in the back, Val was looking at Ember with newfound respect. Ian turned to the demoness and mentioned, "I didn't know you could cast Hellfire."

Ember gave a snort. "Just where do you think warlocks learned it from?"

There was another nondescript white van waiting for them when they reached the warehouse, along with a bored-looking revenant that wordlessly got in beside Ian as they switched vehicles. Ian noticed the amount of people milling around the warehouse and was impressed with the size of the operation. The eggs were already resting inside, surrounded by some kind of incubators.

Narrowing his eyes as Bobby got in and passed around a set of very illegal-looking firearms, Ian questioned, "You have automatic weapons... Why didn't you use them before?"

Val checked her clip and explained, "For the most part, there is an unwritten rule that guns aren't allowed in residential areas and other highly-populated sectors likely to bring cops running. The waterfront, where we're headed, doesn't make the list."

Ian struggled to comprehend the logic of this. "But smashing vehicles is okay?" he asked skeptically.

"It's a psychological thing," Bobby explained. "People hear gunshots, they start writing to their senator about how unsafe the area they're living in is. The government asks questions and the Inquisition has to come in and cover everything up. They then put pressure on the rest of us to behave or they'll start shutting down whole districts."

"There have been purges before and the backers in Central have made it clear that keeping discrete is mandatory," Val explained. "For the most part, we don't even bother taking guns on jobs anymore, but this is different." Ian frowned at the implied danger on a supposedly 'regular drop off.' She added, a bit sheepishly, "Well, that and we kind of stole 'these' from a group out in Beacon Hill. The limited number we have is usually reserved for defense."

"Back at the off-ramp though..." he started to say.

"That was on our border and the area is considered sparsely populated enough to get away with it. If we would have made it a few blocks further, our own armed guards would have been able to cover us," Val explained. "How do you think we've been able to combat other groups who have mages at their disposal?" Ian had wondered about that...

"No wonder your numbers are dwindling," Grim remarked, "you're all suicidal..." Bobby frowned and made to defend his people only to be waved down by Val.

She explained as the van started moving, "Me and Bobby..." her voice cracked. "Our mother abandoned us when she brought us to this country. A vampire fed on her once and she got addicted to the sensation it induced. She decided to throw away her life and live her days as a blood slave, leaving us to fend for ourselves. The Night Watch took us in when we had nowhere else to go. Yes, it's dangerous, but it's also rewarding."

Her gaze unfocused and she said in a soft voice, "You're new so you don't understand the true extent of our organization or how many people it helps. The base here in the Industrial District is just one aspect, but the trade it does is critical to funding its entire operation. The ripple effect that would occur if we fell is unfathomable."

Ian sat back and absorbed what she'd said, Ember leaning against him. A short while later they reached their destination in a clearing near the delta that trailed into the river which separated them from Delridge. Across the greater body of water of Puget Sound that flowed into the delta was Harbor Island and in the distance they could make out the lights of the West Seattle Bridge.

They all got out and began the delicate process of transferring the eggs to a pallet that had been set out. From a nearby grove of trees that was maybe a hundred yards off on the opposite side of the clearing from the river they heard menacing growls and the branches and bushes began to shake. A long, lone howl rose up. The werewolves Ian guessed with a derisive snort.

Bobby looked at the woods uneasily. Undefined shapes could be seen darting back and forth between the gaps in the trees. "They're early," he revealed. "They don't usually show up until after we've left. We almost never see any sign of them." Ian shrugged unconcernedly and leaned against the van as the others continued the unloading process.

* * * * *

In the grove of trees, out of their line of sight, Kiara Volchitsa sat on a rock bored to tears as her packmates made a ruckus. She thought it was all a little ridiculous that they tried to make themselves look as fierce and bloodthirsty as possible, but as her father always said, 'those you can cow with intimidation today are those you won't have to fight tomorrow.'

And no one was about to question one of the council elders who led the combined packs and was even a big decision maker here in the city. While other packs still maintained the traditional alpha-led institution, their particular breed of Were had done away with it long ago when they'd joined together and become so large that politics started to play a role in the governing of things.

She winced as a particularly annoying yipping started up. That'd be her younger cousin. She sighed heavily. Suddenly, she perked up as she caught a familiar scent. It was an intoxicating mix of pheromones and danger. Shifting form, she stretched to her full nine feet in height, pristine snow white spiky fur covering her entire frame, a fluffy tail waving behind her. Crouching in a rest position, she flexed her razor sharp claws and began a lazy lope out of the tree line to investigate, ignoring the inquisitive calls of her pack.

* * * * *

Danielle Chevalier lay flat against the mud bank, looking down the scope of her AS50 sniper rifle, watching the miscreants unload the van. The Church-sanctioned Demon Slayer of the 9th Order wondered for the umpteenth time what she was doing there. They'd given her the time and location of the drop-off with instructions to create insurmountable tension between the two groups.

When the Church had taken her in after her family had been slaughtered by a demon, it had been to shape her for a higher calling. At least, that's what they'd always told her. So far, all she'd been doing for the past two years since they'd declared her ready to take up the fight at the ripe old age of sixteen had been unexplained assassination assignments and one job infiltrating a cult out in the Midwest that hadn't led to anything.

They'd assured her that she would cleanse the world and that her actions held a greater purpose. She sighed as the High Inquisitor's favorite quote rang in her head, "What right does the clay have to question the potter?" She used to consider everything they'd told her as irrefutable fact. She wondered when it was she'd started doubting what they decreed.

A memory flashed through her mind and she shuddered and clenched her eyes shut as the screams of one of her former peers at the enclave hung by spikes attached to the ceiling, slowly being roasted alive by the flames below. Her breathing picked up and she buried her head against her arm to stave off another panic attack. 'Yes,' she thought grimly, trying to block out the images that still plagued her nightmares. 'I remember the exact moment I lost my faith.'

She sniffled and rubbed her eyes, shaking herself furiously. Still, Dani wondered at what her actions tonight were supposed to accomplish. She knew the Order had it in for more than demons. In fact, they disliked mages and most, if not all, supernatural creatures in general, only interacting with them when they were forced to. In some countries the Church resided in, they still had a branch dedicated to witch hunting.

However, this group- this... 'Night Watch' didn't have either. If she provoked a fight with the Were, they'd be massacred. There had been rumors of some high-ranking bishops in the city participating in the control games going on in Central, using the Slayers as their personal tools to rig the outcome of events in their favor. Unfounded rumors that were made up of the usual backroom whisperings that created drama and intrigue without anyone actually believing it, of course. She believed it...