Marked by Death (Necromancer #1) - Kaje Harper Page 0,13

reserve he had two days ago, forcing a demon out of a local police chief, and consigning it to its hell. “I need to recharge.”

“And you have a battery upstairs.” Grim raised an eyebrow, a truly odd expression on a cat’s face.

“I can’t—”

“You’ll have to. He wants those ghosts gone— needs them gone— and you need to eat. Question is, will you tell that tasty morsel in your bed that each ghost you send on its way will rip a piece out of him and feed it to you?”

Silas gritted his teeth. I owe him the truth. It’s going to look bad. “He’s not in my bed, he’s on the couch,” he temporized.

“For now.” Grim tilted his head. “Not that I care about human mating habits. But you’re juggling an atom bomb’s worth of power there, even if he has no idea. Don’t get your hand blown off.”

“Aw, you care.”

Grim sniffed. “I don’t want to have to train another sorcerer in the right way to mince my steak and set out my cream. Speaking of which, a midnight snack might be in order.”

“You wish. You can catch a fat mouse if you’re hungry.”

“And leave it in your bed, as an incentive?”

Silas snorted disdainfully, to hide a wave of amusement. “I suppose there might be a bit of cream left in the fridge.”

“Attaboy.” Grim trotted to the foot of the stairs, then looked back over his shoulder. “I don’t like the feel of this demon. Really don’t. You’d better get on with that boy in the morning.”

Silas followed him, and despite the throbbing in his head and the empty feel in his chest, he did push a little more power into the wards laid out on the floor. The lines grew a bit brighter, but the dark node only looked blacker by contrast.

By the time he climbed to his room, leaving a content Grim savoring his dish of cream, fatigue was dragging at his limbs. He went into the bathroom, prepared for bed, and paused by his couch on the way back.

Darien lay curled up tight, which put half his backside off the edge of the cushions. As Silas watched, he moaned and twisted, but didn’t wake. Silas set a fingertip on his neck and felt for the ghosts down inside. They were still controlled, sleeping. Of course, nightmares didn’t need ghosts to power them. It hadn’t been two hours, but he shook Darien’s shoulder.

“Wake up, kid. Open your eyes.”

Darien gasped and flailed, arms and legs flying. Silas had to catch Darien’s weight against his knees to keep him from hitting the floor, and a wild hand smacked his wrist painfully.

“Stop!” He pushed a little power into the word, to get through. “It’s me, Silas.”

He realized that might not be reassuring, but Darien froze, then relaxed inch by inch. “Sorry. You startled me.”

“I noticed.” No slurring, no confusion. Good. Silas set a hand under Darien’s armpit. “Still, up you come. My bed’s plenty big enough for us not to touch, and you’re going to land on the floor and worsen your concussion at this rate.”

He expected resistance, but Darien stood obediently and let himself be steered over to the side of the big bed. At the last moment he balked. “I can’t—”

“You can.” He would’ve volunteered to take the couch, but his body felt battered and worn, and dammit, he needed his soft bed. “Lie down. Go to sleep.”

Darien seemed dazed, hopefully from lack of sleep not a concussion. He didn’t argue further as Silas stripped the covers down for him, just climbed onto the sheets and set his head on the pillow. His hair was very black, against the white linens. Dark lashes fluttered closed, above the deep purple circles that ringed his eyes. His skin always had a touch of gold to it, but the color looked sallow and washed out. I should’ve fed him.

The morning would have to do. Silas went around to the other side, kicked off his slippers, shrugged out of the robe, and climbed in. The sheets had long since cooled, and he shivered and pulled the blankets up higher over them both. The electric heater under the window ticked and popped, and he hoped it wasn’t going to start throwing sparks. He was just too damned tired to worry about it.

But sleep eluded him. He was in that exhausted stage where his body ached with the need to let go, but his mind wanted to run in circles. It was odd having someone beside