Deadly Desire

'Only last night, when he walked in the door.' He hesitated, looking at the body on the bed. 'He was naked, and confused, and he didn't really say anything.'

Meaning the witch had made him dump his undoubtedly blood-splattered clothes before he'd gotten here. 'I would have thought a son two weeks buried would have caused a serious amount of panic.'

Or did the witch know these people well enough to be sure that the mother would never turn away the son, supposedly dead or not?

He hesitated. 'My wife was too happy to see him to even remember that we buried him not long ago. He's our only child you see.' His gaze met mine. 'She was determined that no one was going to take him away from her again.'

Meaning that, deep down, she probably knew the truth. 'Mr. Habbsheen, you surely must be able to smell the rot. You can certainly see it if you look at his fingertips and toes.'

He didn't say anything. Ultimately, he knew the truth, too.

'Let him go, Kye.'

Kye raised an eyebrow, but did as I asked. Habbsheen slumped down on a nearby chair and rubbed his hands across his eyes. 'It's going to kill her to lose him again.'

It was on the tip of my tongue to say there was no 'again' about it, because the thing laying on the bed wasn't their son, but what was the point? 'Did your son make any new contacts in the days before his death? Were there any problems or incidents that you can remember him mentioning?'

Habbsheen shook his head. 'Nothing. Rob was an easy going kid, well liked by everyone.'

'And there were no strangers at his funeral? Someone who seemed out of place?'

He hesitated. 'I didn't know a lot of his friends and work colleagues, and many of them were there.'

'Where did he work?'

'Coles. He was a shelf stocker.'

'I very much doubt our witch is working for Coles stocking shelves,' Kye said, amusement lacing his tone.

I met his gaze with a smile. 'Probably not. But it still makes me wonder if these are random raisings, or if she has a pattern.' I hesitated, and glanced at Habbsheen. 'Where was he buried?'

'Fawkner.'

The other zombie had been taken from a cemetery as well, although I wasn't sure it was Fawkner. Maybe there was no pattern except that they were fresh burials. Maybe the witch was simply going to whatever cemetery gave her the best options. 'And there was a notice in the paper?'

He nodded. 'If what you're saying is true…' He paused, glancing at his son's remains then swallowing heavily. 'Who would do this to us? Why chose our son? He didn't do anything to anyone. We didn't do anything to anyone.'

'Whoever is raising these people doesn't seem to have any particular reason for doing so.' At least, not one that he'd like to hear. It was bad enough having a son raised from the grave. Knowing that he'd been raised solely to murder other people would be an absolute kicker.

'Then Rob's not the first… zombie?… you've found?'

'No, Mr. Habbsheen, he's not. But we're hoping he'll be the last.'

'Good.' He looked at the body of his son. 'What happens to him now, then?'

'I've called in the Directorate magi, Mr. Habbsheen. They'll be here soon, and hopefully they'll be able to undo whatever has been done to your son's body, so he can be reburied in peace.'

'And my wife?'

'If she causes no more problems, I won't press charges.'

'So I can untie her? She won't cause any more problems, I assure you.'

'She may not, Mr. Habbsheen, but for the moment I think we'll leave her tied. You can seat her more comfortably though, if that's any help.' I glanced at Kye. 'It might be a good time for you to leave.'

'Are you sure you're going to be okay here with the two of them?'

I glanced at Habbsheen. The man had slumped shoulders and a defeated look about him. Of course, it could be all an act, but I doubted it. Still…

'As I said, the Directorate crew will be here shortly, and unless Mr. Habbsheen wants to see his wife arrested, or worse, he will make sure she causes no more problems.'

Habbsheen's shoulders slumped a little more. Kye's gaze met mine briefly, then he nodded and turned, making his way up the stairs.

I followed him to the front door.

'You really need to keep your nose out of Directorate business.' I grabbed the door as he flung it open, preventing it swinging back against the plaster.

He stopped and gave me the sort of smile that would surely melt the panties off most regular females. As it was, it damn near scorched mine.

'We both know that's not going to happen. Not until I catch my target.' He raised a hand and gently cupped the left side of my face, his touch so light and yet somehow so erotic. 'You'll have to arrest me to stop me, Riley.'

The heat of him washed over me, caressing my skin, my senses. He hadn't even moved, yet suddenly he seemed so much closer.

I licked my lips and tried to ignore the unsteady racing of my heart. The way every breath seemed filled with the musty, all-male scent of him. 'I will do it, Kye. Have no doubt of that.'

'I have no doubt you'll try,' he said softly, and then he kissed me.

Not like before. Not heatedly, not desperately, but gently, sweetly. As if we were two sweethearts kissing for the very first time, unsure of our emotions and each other.

And it was good.

And wrong.

And I didn't care.

I just wanted the sweetness to go on and on and on. Desire rose, but it was no instant burn despite the nearness of the full moon, rather a gentle flame as pure as the kiss.

When we finally broke apart, neither of us said anything. We simply stared into each other's eyes, looking for God knows what, our breath mingling and our lips still so tantalizingly close.

Then he smiled, and it, too, was a sweet thing. 'I do not think we should explore what lay beyond that kiss.'

'No,' I agreed softly. I didn't need another attraction in my life. Didn't need him in my life. Not in any way, shape, or form.

Damn it, I didn't even really like the man, so why the hell was I even kissing him in the first place?

His fingers slid down my neck, then he slowly let his hand drop. 'Till next we meet,' he said softly, and walked away.

'If we meet again, your ass will be history,' I muttered, watching said ass walk down the path. The man moved with a fluid grace that in some ways reminded me of a vampire. A dangerous vampire.

Only he was all wolf.

And if I wasn't very careful, a whole lot of trouble.

Once he'd climbed into his car and driven away, I turned and moved back to the cellar to keep an eye on the zombie and his parents.

Mrs. Habbsheen was sitting up against the washing machine, her hands and feet still tied. Her husband sat beside her, talking to her softly, obviously trying to calm her. It wasn't working, if the hateful, angry look she cast my way was anything to go by.

'Keep those bindings tight,' I warned, and stepped over the pair of them to grab the axe. I wasn't about to leave it embedded in the wall, just in case she got lose. I took it out to the car and dropped it in the trunk. As I walked back toward the house, a Directorate car pulled up behind mine and three women piled out. I knew two by sight and one by name, having helped all three magi restrain a vengeful spirit.

'Marg,' I said, shaking the older woman's fragile-looking hand. 'Sorry to drag you out like this, but I need to know if there's any way to trace the magic that raised the zombie back to its owner.'

'So Sal said.' She waved me forward. 'We won't know until we feel the magic, but I very much doubt we'll be able to trace it. The best we can probably do is block it and let the poor boy go back to his eternal rest.'