Page 8 of Temple of Magic and Bone

Vanth needed to think, but all the buzzing of extra magic under his skin was making him want to scratch himself all over. He contemplated rolling a joint and immediately decided against it. Drugs and magic rarely mixed well, despite what the occultists would have you believe.

"Dance party it is," he murmured. He drained his beer on the way back downstairs and to where the old showing room used to be. He had ripped out all the chairs and beige carpet and had painted the room black. It had a half-decent speaker system for grieving people to play the deceased's favorite music, so Vanth just added his own collection of records and sound system equipment. Vanth let his phone select the 'Dance Party' playlist, and music started to thrum around him.

"Dance party time, losers!" he shouted and stamped his booted foot on the floorboards three times. Ghosts poured into the room, drawn to his magic and the music. He had gotten the idea from watching Beetlejuice one too many times, and he was surprised just how well it worked to siphon off the overspill of power.

The playlist stuttered on Lady Gaga and turned to 'It's Been a Long, Long Time' by Harry James before Cecilia appeared in front of him. "Dance with me, Vanth. Your waltz needs work."

Vanth grinned and pulled her close. "You taught me how to waltz, sweetheart. If it needs work, that's on you."

Cecelia huffed out a laugh, her form getting more solid with every kernel of power she drew from him. "You are all charged up. Did you get up to something naughty? I mean, apart from the serial killer currently being eaten in the basement."

They glided through a group of ghosts that were so faint that they could only sway a little, like barely corporeal zombies. Vanth tossed them some power from his fingertips, and they became more coordinated. But they were old white guys, so their dancing skills didn't improve by much.

"You know me, Cecelia. I touched something I shouldn't. It's okay, though. I just need to wear myself out so I can sleep. I'm sure everything will make sense in the morning."

"It's morning now, my boy," she pointed out.

"Not for me. And please, don't wake me up this time. If the building isn't burning down, it's not an emergency."

Celia cocked a pencil-thin brow but didn't reply. It was amazing how judgmental a ghost could be. The sound system changed songs again, and Vanth let the dance take over him until finally, he lay down on the only couch in the room and fell asleep, exhausted.

Across the street,standing in the shadows on the roof, a hooded and cloaked figure watched the half-fae male dancing in a room full of ghosts.

This is the necromancer everyone is so afraid of?

Elektra pulled the pendant out from where it was tucked into her leather body suit. She whispered a soft word under her breath, and the pendant rose in the air. The onyx and silver scythes on it pointed insistently in the direction of the necromancer.

"Fuck," she muttered under her breath. Thiscouldn'tbe the son.

Elektra had been expecting someone a bit more…serious. She couldn't deny that he had power. It was all but radiating out of the wards set around the building. The pendant wouldn't lie to her. She had expected some kind of bookish mage, not a good-looking male that seemed so casual and fun.

What choice do you have but to go to him?Absolutely none.

Her suit still smelled of the blood of her slain sisters and brothers. She had been on the run for days, and she needed to stop the cult hell-bent on destroying everything. She had to trust that this male could actually help her. His mother had been one of them, after all, so maybe under the dancing nonsense, there was someone who could help her get her revenge.

She tucked a blood-red curl back behind her pointed ear from where it had slipped free in the wind. The necromancer had disappeared again, and Elektra settled in to watch and wait.

Charon, give her patience because she was going to need it.

Elektra had slipped into Inferno without anyone noticing, and she had used all her training not to be tracked by the fucking cult bastards that were after her.

Don't think of it. You can't until you are safe. Elektra pulled her silvery cloak around her and let the magic of it blend her into the side of the building. The ghosts in Inferno had given her directions to this necromancer and none of the others in the area. The pendant hummed insistently against her again.

"Fine, I'm going," she told it and scaled back down the building.

The first thing she needed to do was get through his wards. Elektra's lips tugged up into the first smile in days. She always loved a challenge.

5

Vanth didn't know how long he had been sleeping when his magic burned alight like he had been hit by lightning.

"What in the fuck," he gasped, rolling off the couch and hitting the floor with a thud.

Dazed and disorientated, he tried to get his bearings. His magic was running through him over and over like he had fallen asleep in an amplification circle. He ran his hands over his arms and tried to get the feeling of burning ants to go away. He blinked rapidly and then woke up enough to realize what was wrong.

Something or someone was in his house. It wasn't a new ghost. He knew what they felt like. Vanth pulled the black-bladed dagger from his boot.

"Time to make a new ghoul," he mused. That was what he usually did to people who invaded his space without his permission.

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