I stretched languidly, like a cat waking well rested and contented from an afternoon nap. I might have even purred. Despite the slight soreness in my muscles and between my legs, I did, surprisingly, feel well rested and contented. My brain was a bit fuzzy, so not sure why I felt so good, but I instinctively reached to the other side of the bed and found it empty.
That was when I came fully awake. I was in Ian’s bed, and I felt warm and glowy inside and out because of the delicious things we had done here, not once but three times last night. But Ian wasn’t here. I rolled on my back and waited for relief at his absence to hit me. It didn’t. Neither did the expected regret, need to rush out, or reluctance to see him again. I waited another moment. Nope. Nothing. What I actually felt was disappointment that he wasn’t there to kiss me, or something else, good morning.
Oh, crap. What the hell was happening to me? One night with Ian had turned me into a complete mush ball. For a moment, I wondered if I had been bespelled. I quickly dismissed the idea. Ian might be a lot of things, but he wasn’t the kind of creepy perv that cast infatuation spells. Besides, he knew if he did that, once it wore off, I’d kill him, or worse.
I was going to have to face the facts. If there was any kind of bedazzlement going on, it was the natural kind. Ugh! That was worse than being magicked. A spell would wear off in a day or two, and I could blame any ridiculous thoughts or behaviors on it. But, nope, I was laying here, feeling giddy and grinning like an idiot and I had no-freaking-body to blame but myself. Or, Ian. Yes, I’d blame Ian. Damn him for being so… so… Ian!
I grabbed the pillow next to me and buried my face into it, as if I could hide from reality for a few more minutes. Then, I took in a breath and was assailed by Ian’s scent. Warmth flooded my body from the tips of my hair to the tips of my toes, but was highly concentrated in the center between the two points. “Arggh!” I halfheartedly screamed into the pillow. I sucked in another whiff of sexy necromancer, making my toes curl with want, and tossed the pillow aside.
Doing my best not to think about the feel of Ian’s skin next to mine, I looked around the apartment for a clock or something to tell me what time it was. The sun coming in through the tall, pane-less windows spaced evenly across two walls and washing the entire apartment with a bright and cheery glow indicated late morning or early afternoon. In the daylight, the room looked larger and more spacious than it had the night before. Though, in all fairness, my focus had been pretty tight on Ian. We could have been in the public market stadium surrounded by onlookers and I never would have noticed.
Finally, I saw the small clock on the table next to the bed. It was just past ten in the morning, which meant I’d gotten even less sleep than I had thought, considering it had been dawn the last time Ian and I had drifted off. Yet, I felt pretty good. I wondered how Ian was feeling; he’d obviously woken before me.
Where was Ian, anyway? I did another sweep of the apartment, no Ian. The door to the bathroom was open, and though I couldn’t see in, I could tell it was empty. He better not had gone to the market without me. I shook the thought out of my head. No, he wouldn’t do that. I was just about to get out of the bed and look for my clothes, then Ian, when the apartment door began to slowly, quietly swing open.
I sat up, quickly grabbed the sheet that lay over me, and clutched it to my breasts, suddenly overcome with a ridiculous shyness. Oh, get it together, Moon! I chided myself silently. I was acting like a teenager with her first crush, all giggly and silly. It was ironic, because even when I had been a silly teenager, I hadn’t acted this way over boys, or sex.
Pinky had a frank, no-nonsense style of parenting. When Anya and I hit puberty, he had explained sex, the feelings it could induce, the repercussions, and how to be responsible, both physically and emotionally. He’d done the same with River, of course, but, as was the usual happening with younger siblings, Anya and I had already filled her in. I understood my body’s physical needs and had never gotten those mixed up with my emotional needs. I hadn’t even thought I had emotional needs, at least not pertaining to men and a sexual relationship. Not until now. Not until Ian. Now I felt all squishy and tied up in knots inside and, something I had never been about my body, a little bashful. That was complete lunacy, especially after the way I’d presented myself to him naked on his bed last night. I took a deep breath, willing away the tremors in my belly, and dropped the sheet.
But the person that came in the door wasn’t Ian. I gasped and grabbed the sheet again, tugging it around me as tight as possible as a small, silver-haired woman entered the room carrying a large bundle of something.
“Oh, Agent Moon, you are awake. How did you sleep, dear?” the older woman asked.
“Um, fine, thank you. Please, call me Fiona,” I said, a bit feebly. I had no idea who this woman was, but I was meeting her while completely naked and in a bed not my own. I figured we’d already hit first-name status.
“Fiona, such a pretty name,” she said, moving over to the table near the middle of the room and depositing her bundle. “I’m Helena Gary, Master Ian’s housekeeper. You can call me Helena, but I’ll tell you now, Ian only calls me Mrs. Gary. Sometimes, that boy is too proper for his own good.” Her smile was so motherly that it made me warm inside.
I laughed. “Tell me about it.”
Mrs. Gary walked over to the counter behind the table and clicked on a crystal-powered hot plate, filled a teapot with water from a pitcher, and set it on the burner. “Well, I was just going to bring those up for you and leave them, but since you are awake, how about if I go ahead and run you a hot bath? Master Ian said you’d like to try out the tub.”
“A bath would be lovely, but I’m sure I can manage it on my own,” I said.
“Nonsense. I’ll run the bath while you have yourself some tea and wake up. And don’t argue with me, I kind of like fussing over a female once in a while. Between Master Ian, the guards, and my husband, I’m surrounded by men all the time. Here, you can wear this for now.” She picked the bundle back up and tossed me a flannel robe as she bustled past me into the bathroom.
Despite her completely unruffled demeanor at finding me in her boss’s bed, her words seemed to indicate that Ian didn’t often have women over. At least not any that had hung out long enough to meet his housekeeper. That sent an absurd thrill of pleasure through me.
I put on the robe and padded over to the counter with the teapot. There were mugs, several glass canisters of tea leaves, a jar of honey, and a steeper all ready. I loaded the mesh steeper ball with a generous amount from a canister labeled “nettle and mint,” put the ball in a cup, and poured the hot water over it. Stirring in a spoonful of honey, I took my mug and followed Mrs. Gary into the bathroom.
Water was flowing out of two spigots in the wall into the huge, marble tub. “That is some tub,” I said.
“Yes, I think it and the one like it in my apartment are some of the only things Master Ian brought from his family’s compound. Besides books, of course.”
“You live in this building?” I asked.
“Oh yes, on the floor below. There are rooms for traveling necromancers that come into the city to register or find work and a couple of the single security guards live here as well,” Mrs. Gary answered.
I sipped my tea and watched her in silence for a moment while she unbundled the items she had brought in with her. She was about four inches shorter than I was, with an average build, with just a little of the softness that comes with age, which I assessed to be somewhere in the early to mid-sixties. Her face was round and only slightly creased. She had big, brown eyes that were warm and welcoming. She wore a dress of thin, blue paisley material that ended halfway down her calf and doeskin moccasins. Her long, silver hair was pulled back in a braid that reached halfway down her back and tied with a ribbon that matched the blue of her dress.
She turned to me, holding three bottles of colored liquid. “What bath oil scent would you like? I have lilac, lavender, and rose.” I must hav
e made a face because she quickly said, “These are from my own collection. Ian doesn’t keep an assortment of female toiletries in his bathroom.”
“Wow, am I that transparent?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know the answer.
The older woman laughed. “Well, you don’t exactly wear your heart in your eyes, but I’m an old woman. I’ve learned to see things others can’t, even in themselves.”
I didn’t know how to respond, so I just said. “The lavender would be lovely. Thank you.”
She poured the oil in the tub and a beautiful lavender perfume rose in the steam, scenting the entire bathroom in just a few seconds. Then she turned and gestured to the stack of clothes on the counter. “I took your clothes down to wash; I’ll have them sent over tomorrow. There are towels and clothes there for you. I think the clothes should fit just fine, but if not, let me know and I’ll find something else.”
“You have clothes that will fit me? I’m afraid I’m a bit taller than you.” And a bit more endowed in the chest area, but I didn’t see the need in adding that part.
She laughed, “Oh, dear, you would look quite funny in my clothes! No. We have a storehouse with clothes and boots of all sizes. You would be surprised at how many necromancers from far away villages show up in rags. Despite the progress Master Ian has made with the Guild here in Nash, in the outlying villages, especially those not a part of the city-state, and communities in the Outer Zones, necromancers are called frauds and treated shabbily.”
“Really?” I asked, with genuine curiosity.
The tub was over half full of water so she turned it off. “That is hot, so you will want to let it cool a few minutes.” Then she settled onto the edge of the tub to answer my question. “The years during the Cataclysm, and afterwards, were hard on people, and those who used their powers, no matter what they were, made it even harder. Unfortunately, Master Barroes’ ancestors were not the only ones that used their abilities, or pretended to have abilities, to cheat people. There are many places where necromancers have to hide their abilities in order to keep from being harmed. There are communities in the South, across the sea where all magic users are looked upon suspiciously and necromancers are stoned or burned, just for being born with the ability.”
I didn’t know any of this. I wanted to ask questions, but she was really warming up to the subject, so I just leaned back against the counter and listened.
“There isn’t a month that goes by that we don’t have some bedraggled, poor soul, sometimes whole families, come straggling in, looking to get registered and hoping for work. Many sell anything they can to get passage across the sea just because they heard of the Guild. As far as I know, it is the only Necromancers Guild in any of the Allied cities.”
“And you take them all in?” I asked, a little stunned.
“Master Ian does. We keep of clothes, blankets, necessities, and toys for the children. Like I told you before, there are rooms on the third floor for visitors. They stay here while the Guild finds them work. That is also why we have security staff around the clock. It helps them feel safe, something some of them have never had. Many are sent to necromancer-friendly villages, and Master Ian has started networking with other Allied city-states in hopes that other Guilds will be set up. Not everyone who comes is a necromancer, and even those that are, we may not be able to find work for them in that field, but we take in anyone who asks and we help them all find work.” Her smile was wide and full of pride. It was obvious the older woman thought a lot of Ian.
“That is amazing,” I said. And, I meant it. I spent a lot of years hating necromancers, but not even I would want to see someone stoned to death or starving just because of the power they possessed. Besides, I didn’t hate all necromancers. The guys that worked down at the morgue used their powers in a good, productive way, and I liked them. You couldn’t persecute someone just because of the abilities they were born with. It wasn’t what they had; it was what they did with it.
“There is more to the Guild, and to Ian, that meets the eye,” Mrs. Gary said.
“Yeah,” I replied. “I’m beginning to see that.”
She smiled. “Well, I’ll leave you to your bath.”
“Okay. Thank you.” She started to leave the room, but I called her back. “Oh, Mrs. Gary, wait. Where is Ian?”
“He is down in his office doing a bit of work. The new semester at the Academy starts in a week or so, and I think he wants to have his lesson plans all made up in case he has to have someone substitute for him. He works so hard. I’m sure he’ll be back upstairs by the time you are done.”
“Enjoy your bath,” she said and disappeared, closing the bathroom door behind her.
I disrobed and slipped into the hot water. The feel of it sluicing around me was delicious. It soothed the aches and soreness from last night’s fight with Bokor and the later, more sensual battle with Ian. I leaned back in the tub, letting the scented oil soak into my body, and thought about what Mrs. Gary had just told me. There was definitely more to Ian Barroes than met the eye. The warm, fuzzy ball that had been in the pit of my belly since I woke up doubled in size.