Marked by Death (Necromancer #1) - Kaje Harper Page 0,25
Darien yelped and leaped forward, eyes on his footing. There, there, gap, watch the line! He took a long stride and two short ones, and then Silas’s hand closed on his arm where the man’s had been and pulled him close.
Silas didn’t spare him a glance though, just shoved him down and back. “Get behind me.”
Darien did as he was told, aware he’d screwed up badly. He made sure the space he was pushed into had no lines to worry about, then turned to watch the man in the cloak slow down and take the last few stairs at a deliberate pace, a crow perched on his shoulder. When the man reached the bottom, the chalk lines on the floor flared a brilliant green.
The man stopped. A faint smile crossed his face, and when he spoke it was a lighter tone, without the rasp. “What a pretty color, Silas.”
“Ah hells.” Silas looked the man up and down. “Crosby. And passenger.”
“Now be polite,” the man or creature who was apparently Crosby said, the shiver-inducing rasp back in his voice. “You know who’s steering this ship.”
“I do.” Silas’s chin jerked up. “Crosby was a miserable son of a bitch, but I wouldn’t have wished you on him. I can be polite, though. What’s your name?”
Crosby laughed, tone climbing high. “I wasn’t born yesterday. Crosby will do.”
“And what do you want?”
“The usual.” Crosby took a small step forward although he still didn’t cross the glowing lines. The inhuman echoes faded from his voice. “How about a truce? You and me, we’re reasonable beings. Live and let live, right? Give me the man cowering behind your knees and I’ll be out of your hair. There’s enough power in him to last me a long time. I’d give you my word.”
“I’m not that stupid,” Silas said. “You’d be back, sooner or later. And even before that, you’d be out there, raising Cain.”
“You do realize you’re trapped?” Crosby waved at the lines on the floor. “That’s very impressive, in its own small way, but how long can you go without food or water, hiding behind your own runes? Three days? A week? Give me the tasty ghost-mount and I’ll swear to leave for… two weeks. No, a month. Can’t say fairer than that. Better than starving together, isn’t it?”
Grim yowled from his post by Silas’s knee, a rising undulation that Darien was pretty certain was a string of cat insults.
Crosby’s face darkened in response. The crow on his shoulder hissed and said, “The flea-bag’s mine.”
“Shh, Morra.” Crosby glanced toward the bird. “All in good time.”
“Bet you taste like chicken,” Grim muttered at the crow.
Crosby sighed in fake-resignation. “I’d hate to have to set fire to this house with you trapped in there. It’s a great old building—”
Silas muttered a word, gestured, and the green flames of his wards ran out to the walls, and around the doorway at the top of the stairs, barring it. “You want to burn alive too? Give it a try.”
Crosby cursed, a screech of high resonances.
Demon. Or ghost? Darien’s ghosts had never taken on a life of their own. There’s something else in there. I let a demon in Silas’s house.
The crow took off, flying at the doorway only to sheer off at the last moment with a shrieked curse. It landed on the floor beside Crosby, shaking out its wings. A coal of red burned in its beady dark eyes.
Crosby glared, brows pulled down, the frown wrinkles in his smooth skin adding years to his age. “You think you can beat me head on? You have developed an ego, haven’t you?” He sounded human again.
“You were always the one with the ego. What did the demon offer you? Eternal youth? Women and boys at your feet? Did you find a gray hair and sell your soul in a panic?”
To Darien’s surprise, the unearthly voice laughed. “Oh my, you did know Crosby, didn’t you? It was almost like that. He was easy.”
Silas jerked his chin up. “But I’m not.” He said another word. Green flames rose up in a ring around Crosby, closing in toward him.
Crosby cursed and the crow jumped to his shoulder. White lightning crackled out from his fingertips and met the green, setting off sparks wherever they touched.
Silas went still as stone. Darien expected some reaction, but as seconds dragged on, nothing changed. He realized Crosby was standing still too, eyes focused out on nothing. Occasionally a finger twitched, or his eyes narrowed, but nothing more. The crow