Dirge for a Necromancer - By Ash Stinson Page 0,37

much prefer, since I am not, by any means, a violent or blood-loving man—is to bed them.”

“You have to be kidding me,” muttered Raettonus.

“I assure you, I am not,” Kimohr Raulinn said. “Those are the ways I can collect emotional chaos from mortals. I can see your emotional turmoil, Raettonus—it’s irresistible, really. You’ve lived such a long, miserable life enduring all kinds of failures and horrors. Why, is there any endeavor you’ve ever embarked on that you didn’t fail? The pain of it’s all around you. Your emotional chaos alone would give me enough energy to access the vast powers of my domain for years. You don’t much like me, I know, or trust me. Yes, I suppose I don’t deserve to be trusted. Still, I’m sure you’ll understand why this has to be the payment. After all, reversing death is not a small thing; all the energy I gain from your turmoil—which, mind you, would normally grant me power for years—will probably be spent by the time the process is through.”

Raettonus cocked his eyebrow. “Then why do it at all?” he asked. “If any power you might gain from fucking me will only be spent immediately in reviving Master Slade, why would you even want to bother with resurrecting him?”

Kimohr Raulinn chuckled. “I have my reasons,” he said softly. “They’re good reasons too. I cannot discuss them however. If my price makes you uncomfortable then I’ll leave, and we can forget we ever spoke, and Sir Slade can stay dea—”

“No,” said Raettonus quickly. “No, I’ll pay your price. It’s inconsequential, and I don’t mind. I’ll pay it.”

“There’s a good boy,” cooed Kimohr Raulinn. “I believe this is the first time in your entire adult life you haven’t been difficult and disagreeable. Here, I won’t bite. Not if you don’t want me to.”

Raettonus approached him cautiously, unbuckling his belt. “Fine,” he said. “But no kissing.”

“Oh, Magician,” said Kimohr Raulinn, taking him by the hand and pulling him toward the bed. “You know just how to wound me.”

Raettonus shrugged. “I know how to wound everyone,” he said indifferently. “I specialize in wounding people, really.”

“Mm, do you now?” asked Kimohr Raulinn as he pulled Raettonus down on top of him. He grabbed hold of Raettonus’ tunic and tugged it up over his head, revealing the magician’s firmly toned torso and all the little burn marks which dotted it. Tossing the dingy black tunic to the floor, Kimohr Raulinn leaned up and kissed Raettonus softly on the lips, mask pressing hard against his and chin.

“Hey, now,” Raettonus said as they broke apart. “What did I just tell you about that?”

“Mm, my apologies, Raettonus,” purred Kimohr Raulinn, resting one hand on Raettonus’ thigh. “I really just can’t help myself, I’m afraid.”

“Understandable, I suppose. I am notoriously irresistible,” Raettonus said. “I suppose I can forgive you just this one—”

The words died away as Kimohr Raulinn pressed his mouth to Raettonus’ once again, this time threading the fingers of one hand through Raettonus’ long hair. With his other hand, the god began to roll down Raettonus’ tights over his thin hips. Raettonus pulled his lips slowly away from Kimohr Raulinn’s.

“Like I was saying—I’ll forgive you this once,” he said. “But, really, stop kissing me. I can’t help but feel you’re not treating this like the business transaction it is. No more with the kissing.”

Kimohr Raulinn sighed and propped himself up on his elbows. “Fine,” he said. “If you insist.” He untied the belt on his robes and pulled himself free of them. His body was pale and soft, and the skin was completely unmarred by scars or freckles or blemishes of any sort. With a sudden burst of aggressiveness that caught Raettonus off-guard, the god rolled him over onto his back and straddled his hips. “Well, I suppose, then, we should just get down to business, hm?”

“I suppose we should, yes,” answered Raettonus, his heartbeat quickening. With the god’s bare body atop him, he could feel his loins beginning to stir. Kimohr Raulinn chuckled softly and leaned down. Again he kissed Raettonus, but this time the man did not protest when they broke apart.

* * *

When they were finished with their tryst, Raettonus got dressed in awkward silence as Kimohr Raulinn wandered over to his bookshelf and began looking at his books. “Oh, I see,” he murmured, touching the ancient book Raettonus had used to cast his hiding spell. “This one is quite old. Kurok destroyed a lot of these a few thousand years ago because