Path of the Necromancer - FACTION WARS

Chapter 8.1 - Ian

Ian was feeling oddly domestic - something he'd not felt since abandoning, and blowing up, his parents old house. Grim was on his period or something, the cranky apparition retreating into his tome to 'study.' The last time he'd studied anything was the one and only time Ian had shown him how to use the internet. Eighty-two viruses and enough German dungeon porn to kill his libido for a month later, Ian had thrown the cackling asshole into his old gym bag.

Wringing out the towel he'd been using to absorb the escaped water from their earlier shower, Ian smiled. 'Life was never boring with him around.'

His phone started moaning in his pocket. Not in the, 'come-here-and-do-naughty-things' moan. It was the soft depressing moan of a zombie. Another thing he'd been meaning to change. Caller I.D., Bobby.

'Clean enough.' Three-pointing the wadded towel into the open-topped machine, he slipped his phone from his jeans. "Hey, Bobby. What's up?"

"We've got a situation. We need everyone to be on the streets or on guard." His voice was clipped and... almost militant.

"Uh, yeah sure." Ian rubbed a knot on his shoulder, "Just one problem."

Bobby sighed. "What is it?" It sounded like this wasn't the first 'problem' he'd dealt with.

"We've got a couple extras tagging along," Ian hedged.

"Oh? Who?"

"The Banshee." When Bobby didn't immediately freak, Ian considered that a good sign. "We picked her up at the tail end of the Kin raid. She's agreed to work with us under some conditions."

"You have got to be shitting me." Bobby groaned. "Please tell me you're shitting me."

"What can I say?" Ian tried to joke. "I've got a way of picking up strays."

"Does that include us?"

Ian wasn't sure if that was a serious question, or deadpan humour. He elected to keep quiet.

"Look," Bobby said, moving to another vicinity - the muffling of the background noises gave him away. "I don't have time to get into that. The Were aren't taking our goods till we, aka you, meet with them, and her being there won't help. Can't you just... dump her ass somewhere? This is kinda important."

"I'm not about leaving people out to hang." Ian flatly refused. "Besides, she knows where I live and I'd rather not have Tiandihui goons shooting up the place. We just got new carpets."

"Just tell me you've got her under control?" Bobby pleaded.

"Ember seemed pretty sure of it." He offered the best he could.

Bobby, resigned to the matter, accepted with a weary. "That'll have to do."

Ian shrugged to no-one. "Do you need us down there?" Inwardly wondering how he could achieve that miracle.

"No, we'll come and get you. I'll explain the play when I see you."

The call died and with it went his plans for a lazy afternoon. 'Least it'll keep Ember amused.' He snickered.

"Who was that?" Dani asked as he emerged from the cool, moisture laden air.

"The Shifter's refuse to handle any of the Night Watch supplies until we meet with them," He outlined.

"And by 'we' you mean...?" Mei regarded them.

"Probably the ones seen at the clearing," Grim's disembodied voice groused. Mei jerked, glancing about to identify the source of the unattached voice. "Over here, Cupcake," Grim said, flipping a few pages. The answer didn't settle Mei's jitters.