Bleeding Indy: A Sylvia Stone Necromancer Novel

By Siobhan A Stevens

Vampires are disappearing in Indianapolis, IN without a trace! Sylvia Stone, a medical examiner and necromancer, suddenly finds herself in the midst of the investigation. Her only choice is to find the vampires, or disappear with them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jan 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483518022

Book preview

me.

1

I like my job; I really do. I’d even go so far as to say I love my job, which is difficult for some people to understand. What I don’t really care for is my second duty: raising the dead. I’m a necro, or necromancer to those unfamiliar with all the terms. Most people find it rather weird, yet sort of expected, with the job I consider my career. I mean, wouldn’t it be helpful for a medical examiner to be able to speak with the dead? Well, that isn’t entirely true. I’ve always had an interest in the dead, which was why I majored in supernatural studies, continued on to medical school, and chose to become a medical examiner. I do have a problem with raising the dead for people when it isn’t called for. I know that sounds weird, but it’s true.

In the world of raising the dead, we use three terms to identify ourselves: necri, necro, and necromancer.

For a time, necromancer was the term for anyone who could raise the dead. Over the years, that evolved. The term is still used, but very few of us are true necromancers. It’s what we aspire to become, but hardly ever get there, usually because we don’t live long enough.

Necromancers aren’t what people think they are. Most people think of necromancers as people who can raise and control the undead, mainly zombies. More people are starting to realize that a strong necromancer can control vampires, seeing how a vampire’s power to glamour, which is like hypnotism or mind control, didn’t work on us. But most people don’t realize necromancers can also communicate with spirits.

Like with most Mages, also known as magicians, raising or communicating with the dead doesn’t happen overnight. It takes lots of practice, time, power, and control. Another factor that comes into the process is how dead the person was, how the person died, and if the person was purely human. Those factors tell us how hard the raising will be, and allow us to gauge the energy we need to do so. In short, the longer people have been dead, the more energy it takes to raise them. That’s because their spirits have been away from their bodies, so it takes longer to get the spirits back. Now, raising a pure human might not seem like a big deal, but it is. If a necromancer tries to summon another of its kind, things can get dicey when the dead necromancer returns. Even though it has been dead for some time, a necromancer seems to regain its senses quicker than a human does. This wouldn’t normally be an issue, but unless the living necromancer is extraordinarily strong, undead necromancers have a very good chance of breaking free, making it even harder to put them back.

For some reason, 99.9 percent of us have to wait until a person has been dead for three days before we can hope to raise the person. We don’t know why, but it could be because the spirit hasn’t fully left the body; the spirit is still in control. You might think this would make it easier, but we control the dead, not the living. It’s also a bad idea to raise murder victims because once they regain their faculties, they remember what happened and come back with a vengeful fury. Only the strong can hope to raise them and keep them under control, and the necromancer has to make sure the murderer isn’t there. So far, no one has been able to control a murder victim when the killer is present. The victim’s rage and despair is too strong to keep back.

A necromancer can raise the dead, control them, and control thinking undead, such as vampires. Necromancers can communicate with, and send, various sorts of spirits off to do errands. A necromancer can also steal and control other people’s zombies. There have only been three documented and confirmed cases of such people, and none of them are alive at present.

I’m not a true necromancer because I can’t control vampires. Vampires are undead, meaning their spirits are still connected to their physical bodies. Though most necros will probably never control vampires, there is one major benefit: some vampire powers don’t affect us. For example, they can’t glamour us, which tends to piss them off. If a vampire is old and powerful, it’s possible that one of us could be glamoured. But if one of us was a true necromancer, then there might be a fight on both ends.

A necro is someone who can raise the dead and control them without the guidance of others. I can’t control creatures such vampires, who have working minds, or steal other people’s undead.

A necri is an apprentice necro. However, necris need help raising the dead. A necri can raise a dead person, but many of them didn’t yet have the skill, and don’t realize their limits. Usually they can only raise a person who had been dead no more than fifty years. Also, it’s usually only safe for necris to do two, maybe three, raisings a night. Otherwise, they run the risk of losing control over the zombies.

When we talk about powers and controlling a zombie, we’re talking about reanimating a corpse, keeping it that way for as long as necessary, and then putting it back into the ground. Each of these processes takes energy, so we have to be sure we’re up for it. What happens if we don’t have enough energy? Shit happens. Zombies won’t drain the life out of us, but when they break loose, they don’t have the same weaknesses as before. Most wander back to their homes or places they liked to visit, which could result in a nasty shock for their families.

If zombies wander around too long, then they start to resemble what you see in the movies. They attack people for their blood because that keeps them animated. The longer they run free, the more they lose their humanity. Zombies that become berserk can no longer be put back to rest. They must be killed again, and burned, so there’s no risk of them rising and attacking people again. So far, I have been fortunate and haven’t witnessed such a thing.

If you look at the population of necromancers, you won’t see many of us because we are few in number. Witches, wizards, sorcerers, and others can mimic what we do, but they never do it as well as we do. Unless you’re an actual necro, which you’d know, you’re just an impersonator. Since there are so few of us, most of us think of ourselves as necros unless we find someone of lesser power and control, or if we found someone who shows us how weak we are and tells us we need some guidance. I don’t know how many people would actually admit to that. In most cases, the more powerful one takes the other under his or her wing for training, as I’m doing with Chase. He’s a necri, just discovering his powers.

Chase and Jason are my roommates in a two-bedroom apartment. Jason is a cousin from my mother’s side, but we didn’t know the other even existed until recently. How do we know now? After Jason’s parents died in a car crash when he was in college, he looked into his family tree and found out his great grandmother had a sister, who was my great grandmother. After some digging, he found where I was going to college and came to meet me.

On the other hand, Chase and I met during a lecture on raising the dead. It appeared that all our jobs dealt with the dead in one way or another. At the time, Chase was just gaining control over his ability, but still needed training. It didn’t help that his parents weren’t okay with him raising the dead. It’s the same way for many people with our ability. Their friends and families think they’re evil or Satan worshippers because no good person would want to raise the dead. It isn’t as if we have a choice; it’s just something we can do.

We met Chase’s parents a few times and could tell they didn’t like us, especially because we encouraged their son to pursue what they referred to as an unholy act. I hope they’ll wake up one day and realize that their son is a good man, raising the dead or not. But that’s far down the road.

Since Jason and I needed help and understood Chase’s situation, we offered him a job and a place to stay, so he’s happy. Unlike Chase and me, Jason can’t actually raise the dead. To the contrary, he puts them there. We only hint at that so he can use it as a cover. It was Jason’s idea. I’m not entirely comfortable with it, but it’s a lot easier than talking about what he really is: a bounty hunter. He has a license from the government to hunt humans and supernaturals. He goes after anyone who has broken the law and is on the run, and he has an Executioner’s Letter to do so legally. But as you might imagine, some of his clients aren’t from the government.

...

One night, I was headed out to raise a man who’d died of natural causes. His Last Will and Testament was clear, but his business partners wanted more than what they received. People with that greedy kind of attitude make me unhappy about this aspect of what I do.

I stared at the radio. The song sounded funny. I looked at the dash to see my cell going off. I pushed the talk button, smiling a little at who was on the other end. I loved my dashboard clip since I didn’t have to worry about holding the phone. I did not want to end up on a slab yet.

What’s up? I asked.

Turn the music down; I can’t hear you.

Bullshit, I replied, but did so anyway. What do you need, Jason?

Are you planning to come home after you raise the guy?

Yep. I’ll let you know if anything changes.

Okay. Oh – Chase wants me to tell you he went grocery shopping, so don’t worry about it.

Tell him thanks for me. I’ll see you guys when I get home.

Will do.

We hung up.

...

I pulled into the parking area of Washington Park Cemetery. Luckily, the cemeteries were all about twenty minutes from where we live. It only took a few minutes before I saw the other cars parked for the event.

I still don’t understand people like this. The man I was going to raise passed away a week ago from a heart condition. In his will, he clearly stated that everything but the business was to go to his wife and son. His brother and cousin were to get the business, since they worked together. Apparently, his brother and cousin didn’t believe that was all they got. So I was there to straighten it out.

What was I, a medical examiner, doing in raising the dead for lawyers if I had a problem with it? Well, since I’m a necro, people can ask me to do this. Normally, the people from Risen Forever, a business that employed necris and necros to do raisings, would take care of this. This time, they must have been too busy or someone referred me. I wanted to get my name taken off that list, but as my roommates frequently reminded me, the money was very good. Also, it was a way to keep in the loop on the supernatural world.

I parked and stepped out of the car. I studied the small group while I gathered what little gear I needed: a blade and a chicken. I could use my own blood, but that would mean more scars, and that could tempt vampires I might meet.

What makes necromancy such an evil/dark art is the fact that we need blood for our rituals, except when talking with spirits in the area. There are myths, rumors, stories, whatever you want to call them, that a true necromancer at his/her absolute strongest doesn’t need blood to do this. This hasn’t been documented as truth, but it would be a lot more convenient and cheaper. For most necros, a chicken or small animal about the size of a chicken will do for raising a body. If a necro is trying to raise more than one body, or if the body has been dead for more than a century, we need an even bigger offering. The biggest sacrifice I’ve heard of being used without causing a big fuss is a cow, and that was in Asia when someone raised an old historian.

Most of us draw the line at chickens, but some of us will kill cows or pigs for a bigger paycheck. The strongest blood offering is what we call White Blood – human blood. We don’t know why human blood adds a bigger punch.

As for human sacrifices, there are levels to that as well. Most release the same amount of power, but with normal humans, babies offer more. Why? Again, the professionals have no proof, but they believe it’s because of the baby’s innocence and inability to protect itself. If you’re looking for something with that much power, but don’t have the heart to kill a baby, the next option would be to kill a thrope, like a werewolf, wererat, or whatever you could find. Using a Mage adds more power because they have control over more of the world than a normal human does. As for vampires, since they aren’t living, they don’t help much. They also can confuse the necro’s power because the necro might think the vampire needs to be controlled – and not the corpse.

The first person I saw was Ken Follas. Ken is one of the few good lawyers in this field, meaning the supernatural field, and I like him because he understands and he tries to talk people out of situations like these. I’ve always wondered if he volunteered to go into this new field of law, or if he just fell into it. He’s in his late forties, and it’s starting to show. He’s a tall man, but it doesn’t always seem that way. He’s a little heavyset, probably from sitting behind a desk day. His brown hair is short and styled professionally, and he always wears silver-framed glasses around his brown eyes.

Good evening, Sylvia. Ken said as he shook my hand. Again, I’m sorry for causing you trouble. They are just persistent.

There’s nothing you could do, Ken. I’d told him this more than once, since we’d met several times on matters like this.

He nodded. I know. Shall we get this over with?

Yeah, I replied.

It’s hard to explain, but I always feel a type of peace when I was in a graveyard. It wasn’t an, "Oh, I’m home; it’s so nice!" kind of thing. It was more like a peaceful escape from the noise of civilization. No one really liked to visit a cemetery, so it was quiet, and my necromancy didn’t nag at me so much.

The grave was easy enough to find, seeing how they were all standing around it. The first person I saw was the man’s wife. She wore a plain black dress with a gold chain around her neck. I couldn’t see what was hanging from the chain because she had it grasped in her hand. If I had to guess, I’d say it was a cross. Her dark hair was pulled back in a bun, making her seem very neat. Her son was next to her. He had on black pants and a charcoal button-up shirt.

The men causing this fuss stood just a few feet away. The brother and cousin were dressed similarly but with more fashion. They both wore black suits and ties with white dress shirts. One of them was trying to look at his watch without anyone noticing. Obviously, he was in a hurry to get this done.

The mother and son looked unhappy about the process, while the brother and cousin seemed anxious. Of all the times I’d raised people to figure out wills, nine out of ten stuck with the will. We explained this multiple times in hopes of avoiding the whole procedure. It just pissed me off that people disturbed the dead for such ridiculous reasons. If he hadn’t written a will at all, I’d be more understanding, but this was just rude.

I walked to the grave, put down my things, and then turned to the group of five. Good evening, I began. As I have explained before, it takes the dead a while to adjust. If there are any problems while he’s adjusting, I might have to put him back under. If that happens, we’re done here.

We already know all this stuff, the cousin said.

I tried not to glare. It’s procedure, I simply stated, reminding myself to be nice. Now remember, I’m the one to talk with him, and no one else. Tell me what you want to know, and I’ll ask. Now stay where you are, and don’t move any closer.

I don’t understand why, his brother muttered as I turned.

Because if you get too close, you’ll throw off the energy and make this harder – even impossible, I replied.

He huffed, but remained where he was, which I took as my signal to begin.

I used the blade to kill the chicken, hearing multiple sounds of discomfort from those gathered, and used its blood to walk a circle around the grave. The circle helps contain the energy or magic so a necro could sustain the zombie. If the circle was broken, the energy was harder to control. This caused the necro to lose focus on the zombie, which could then get loose. So the circle was important. Most people drew a rather large circle to allow the energy more room to move, but the circle I drew was smaller because I didn’t need as much room, so to speak.

After drawing the circle, I ran my finger through the blood, placed a drop on the grave, and then let some fall to the earth over where he should be. Then, I felt a pulse against my feet. The magic was there.

I closed my eyes, sighed, and drew upon my energy. It’s hard to explain what happens. It’s like cold water rushing through pipes, getting faster as it nears the end, waiting to burst free. I felt it build faster and stronger as I called it. When both my toes and fingers tingled with the energy, I forced the energy downwards, into the earth towards the dead man.

Antony, rise to my voice, I whispered. Rise and come to me.

I felt my power reaching him, caressing his skin, encasing him, and bringing him back to the living. His body began to stir as the power filled him, and his limbs flexed as they returned to function. He struggled to make his way to the surface, to my call. After a few moments, Antony’s dirty body knelt in front of me. I placed a drop of blood on his forehead and spread a line across his lips, all the while letting my power continue to enter him.

Antony, I said softly.

He jerked at the sound of my voice, almost as if I’d yelled. He looked at me and asked, Where am I?

That doesn’t matter, I said. I’ve always felt protective about not hurting the dead’s feelings. I have a few questions for you. Do you mind answering?

As his eyes searched mine, I knew he remembered what happened. Now I needed to see if he would stay with me.

I died. Why am I here? he asked.

I heard movement behind me, and signaled for them to stay put.

I’m sorry to have raised you, Antony, but it seems there was some disagreement over your will, I continued.

What was wrong with my will? Wasn’t it clear? Did I mix up words? he asked.

I was always surprised at how quickly they reanimated themselves. No, or at least I don’t think so. You left everything to your wife and son, correct?

Of course that’s correct. They’re my family! They were everything to me. I hope they’re all right, he said, and looked at the ground.

His wife started to cry. Your family is fine; I assure you. I paused for a moment. You see, your brother and cousin think that since you were business partners, you would have left them something...

They have the business. What more could they want? My wife and son need money to pay bills and get him through college, he said, then lifted his head to see me. What do they want?

I shook my head. That’s all I need to know, Antony. Thank you. I’m sorry for having raised you.

His eyes shifted slightly. You’re going to send me back now?

That’s how it works, Antony.

I’m still dead?

Yes, you’re still dead.

He looked at me. All right. Tell my wife and son they don’t have to worry about me, and I’m glad that they’re fine.

I will, I said. Then I touched his forehead again. Return to slumber, I said in a soothing voice.

My energy surrounded him and eased him back to his eternal sleep. As the power pulled away, I felt like I was peeling an orange. I pulled off the layer that had kept him alive, and left him to peaceful sleep. I sighed, glad he settled easily.

As I finished, I sensed someone else nearby who wasn’t part of the group. I’d get a better read in a moment. I turned back to the group.

What was that? the brother asked.

Your brother, I said. And he said the will was correct. His family gets everything, and you both have the company.

But-

Mr. Lawrence, Ken said gently. She is right. He verified what’s in the will. This is what we paid her to do. We cannot pester the dead to make them change their minds.

The two walked away, angry. Antony’s wife and son walked up to me.

Thank you, she said.

Not at all. I’m sorry we had to do it.

I know I said I was against it, but deep down, I did want to see him again. She wiped a tear away. And it was nice to hear that he is all right. Thank you for telling him we are fine.

The dead always like to have some assurance when it comes to their loved ones.

She nodded and walked with her son back to the car.

Thanks again, Sylvia, Ken said. I’ll get the check to you in the next few days.

Hey, as long as I don’t have to see ‘grumpy’ and ‘asshole,’ I’m fine, I said, which caused us both to laugh. You better get back. And don’t even offer to help; I know you wouldn’t touch it.

He smiled. Okay, then. I’ll see you soon. Good night.

Night, I said.

I watched for a moment as he headed to his car, and then I turned to gather up the dead chicken and blade. As I did, I used my powers to detect the person I sensed earlier, and I couldn’t help but smile.

Stalking me? I asked. I knew he could hear me, even though he wasn’t within normal hearing distance. Extraordinary hearing is one of the benefits of being a vampire.

You wish, he teased back.

I turned and saw a young looking vampire walking towards me. His black hair reached his shoulders. At close to six feet tall, he’s a few inches taller than I am. He was wearing a casual black suit, which wasn’t unusual, and his button-up shirt was pale blue; there was no tie.

What brings you out here, Lestat? I asked.

He shrugged. I don’t know. What do you think?

For a date? I teased.

Sylvia,

You know I’m teasing. I have no idea what would bring you out here. So why don’t you just tell me I said as