Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
Erasmus
Home. Why was it that home always looked so good?
The relief I felt when pulling onto my street and seeing my home seeped deep into my veins, filling my body with soothing comfort.
That comfort would have been magnified if Franklin’s vehicle were in the driveway.
Unfortunately, I didn’t see it. Not that I’d expected to.
Franklin called about an hour ago to let me know he would be home late.
While I was disappointed, I also understood.
Turning into my driveway, I felt Pops’s wards wash over me, filling me with a sense of safety and love.
But that safety had a glaring crack. Huxley had more than proven that Pops’s wards were useless against him—or at least against his shadows.
Pops changed the wards before he left the last time, weaving Franklin’s safety into the magic.
Unfortunately, Pops said there wasn’t much more he could do as the wards he’d placed on my house were already the most powerful possible.
Shutting off my car, I got out, stretching the kinks from my body while pushing thoughts of Huxley from my mind.
I could worry all I wanted. I could fuss, fume, and fixate on all things that were Tenzen Huxley but that wouldn’t do me a damn bit of good.
All that worrying did was weigh me down, and if there was one thing I was certain of, I needed to be as mentally and physically nimble as possible when Huxley did come knocking on my door.
Yips drew my attention toward my neighbor’s yard. Miss Pattycakes was outside and had heard my car drive in. She was a better warning system than Pops’s wards—not that I’d ever tell the great and powerful Nikodemus Holland that. Pops’s ego would never recover from such an accusation.
“Hush, Patty. It’s just Erasmus.” Mrs. Hart leaned out her front door. The screen pushed open as she ushered Miss Pattycakes inside. “Good evening, Erasmus. How are you?” Mrs. Hart asked as she waved at me from her porch.
I waved back. “I’m good. Just got home. I’m gonna get the mail and then head inside.”
Mrs. Hart pulled her robe a little tighter around her shoulders. “How’s that handsome detective of yours?” Even from this distance, I could see my elderly neighbor’s eyebrows waggle.
My grin was so wide it hurt my cheeks. “Franklin’s fine. He’s still at work.”
That sobered Mrs. Hart. Shaking her head, she said, “I hate to think why that is, but I’m glad we’ve got people like your Franklin lookin’ out for us. I keep you both in my prayers.”
Mrs. Hart’s words warmed my chest. While I prayed to Gaia, not the Christian God, I’d take all the well-wishes anyone decided to throw my direction. “Thank you. I’m sure Franklin will be relieved to hear that also.”
“You two take care and let me and Miss Patty know if there’s anything you need.”
“We will.”
The creak of Mrs. Heart’s screen door echoed my own home’s.
I watched her front door until the inside one closed.
I’d asked Pops to ward Mrs. Hart’s house also.
He’d grumbled but had done it. For me. There were a few constants in my life.
One of them was knowing just how much Momma and Pops loved me. It was a good foundation to work from.
Heading down the driveway, I made my way to the front of the house and the mailbox.
My neighbor across the street was outside, so I waved at him just as I’d done with Mrs. Hart.
Unlike Mrs. Hart, this neighbor stuck his nose in the air before turning on his heel and heading back into his house.
The slam of the door behind him as he closed it was deafening.
I could fixate on his shitty, prejudiced response, or I could let it go.
I’d learned a long time ago not to take such actions to heart.
Momma had taught me that. Fixating on others’ hatred would only hurt me in the long run.
That didn’t mean I forgot. It just meant I carried it on the outside, not the inside.
I used it as metaphorical armor instead of letting it in to fester into an unhealing wound.
“Asshole,” I murmured while reaching for my mailbox. Just because I didn’t fixate on others’ hatred didn’t mean I couldn’t curse and call them uncharitable names. Hell, that was half the fun.
A few bills populated my mailbox, along with a political flyer and an advertisement for a new superstore that would soon be opening. I shifted through the pieces of paper, organizing them in my hands as to what would immediately go into the recycling and what needed more attention.
I was almost through the stack when my finger brushed along a different texture. When I pulled it out, it was clearly not a bill, but a greeting card. The lavender envelope was a soothing color. Flipping it over, I saw my name, along with Franklin’s and my address. There was no return address.
Curious, I made my way to the porch, laying the typical mail on the swing so I could open the card. The greeting surprised me. It was a congratulations on our engagement.
“Huh?” Franklin and I hadn’t kept our engagement secret, but we also hadn’t shouted it from the rooftops. Everyone I knew had offered me personal congratulations. I couldn’t imagine anyone I knew sending a card. Maybe it was from Franklin’s nana or someone else in his family.
Opening the card, I skimmed through the pleasantries while my eyes tracked to the bottom.
My heart sank, landing somewhere around my toes while my brow broke out in a cold sweat. The script implied so much more than the words alone. Best wishes for a long and useful life. See you soon, Tenzen Huxley.
Thank Gaia the porch railing was close at hand.
If not, I would have landed on my ass. My body swayed and my vision swam.
I didn’t think. Maybe I was incapable of rational thought.
I should have headed inside my home, sat down, and taken a few moments to talk myself off the ledge I was suddenly perched on.
That would have been the smart thing to do. Instead, I turned on my heel, marched back to my car, hopped inside and headed towards the safest place I knew—Franklin O’Hare.
Franklin’s earlier text had been vague, but it offered enough information for me to head in the right direction.
The flashing lights of a police car were anything but subtle, and I let their pulsing flares guide me.
Pulling up alongside the road, I parked behind the last vehicle in a line of many.
I’d assumed this was a homicide, given that was Franklin’s specialty.
I had no idea regarding the particulars.
The ME van was parked a few vehicles in front of mine, and I inwardly shuddered at the reminder of our previous ME, Dr. Morgan McCallister. Being kidnapped and nearly murdered sort of made it difficult to forget someone. I didn’t mourn Dr. McCallister’s passing.
Getting out of my car, my legs felt like little more than Jell-O. Running on instinct, I never stopped to consider this might be a crime scene and that I wouldn’t be welcome. I should have.
“Get back in your car,” someone shouted, pulling my attention from the group huddled around an area a few feet away. I could just make out Franklin’s ginger head of hair. He was so close and yet so damn far away.
“I need to speak with Franklin,” I somehow managed to rasp out.
“I don’t give a shit,” Tall, Broad, and Imposing said as he got up in my face, towering over me. “This is a crime scene.”
I shook my head, my hair flopping around my head. Tears born of frustration, need, and fear threatened. “Please, just tell—”
“Back in the car,” he ordered while taking another step toward me.
Anger flooded me, washing away my earlier fear.
That rage automatically tapped into my necromancer side.
When I raised my head, eyes trained on the pompous asshat blocking my way, his eyes widened and the color drained from his face.
I could only imagine what he saw, what my eyes looked like.
I’d been told they glowed green when I used my necromancer abilities.
“N-necromancer.” He stumbled over the word as his hurried retreat tangled his feet.
I didn’t wait for this na?ve idiot to regain his composure. “Franklin!” I screamed. Was I being overly dramatic? Probably. Did I give two shits? Fuck no.
The effects were immediate. Every head turned my direction. As soon as Franklin heard my voice, he pushed his way through the throng of officers. His long legs brought him to my side in no time. I’m not sure what I looked like, but it must have been disturbing enough to alarm my fiancé.
Hands immediately cupping my face, Franklin leaned over me and asked, “What’s wrong? What happened?” Franklin’s looming didn’t incite an ounce of fear. Instead, his bulky presence was soothing.
Going up on tiptoes, I inhaled his woodsy scent, pulling it deep into my lungs. Peace and calm quickly followed on the heels of Franklin’s mere presence.
“You’re scaring me, Erasmus. Tell me what’s wrong.” Franklin pulled me in tight, wrapping me in his protective arms.
Franklin’s touch allowed clarity to seep in, along with a heavy dose of embarrassment. Had I really needed to drive out here, disturb Franklin while he was working, and make a scene in the process? In retrospect, probably not. I’d also made Franklin worry.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled into his chest.
“Don’t be sorry. Just tell me what happened.”
Before I could utter another word, the officer who’d blocked my way opened his foolish mouth again.
“So, it’s true. I’d heard rumors but…” He didn’t even try and hide his disgust. He could have been upset that Franklin was gay, but I suspected it had more to do with my fiancé being in love with a necromancer as opposed to someone with a Y chromosome.
“Grayson.” That singular name was little more than a growl exiting Franklin’s lips. “Leave. Now.”
Officer Grayson grunted, hands on hips as he turned and walked away. I wasn’t sorry to see him go. I’d evidently gotten a little complacent when it came to the cops working with Franklin. It had been a long time since one of them reacted that way.
“I’ll talk to Captain Cicely about him,” Franklin whispered against my head. “This isn’t the first time Grayson’s said or done something stupid. Captain Cicely doesn’t tolerate that bigoted bullshit.”
“No, I know.” And I did. As a witch, Loretta Cicely was much more tolerant than the average human law enforcement official.
“Grayson will either shape up or he’ll be transferred.”
I winced, not liking that thought either. At least here, Officer Grayson’s actions would be checked, and he wouldn’t get away with bullying others. I hated to think he’d be foisted off on another, more tolerant precinct.
Releasing me enough that Franklin could look into my eyes, he asked again, “What happened?” Franklin pushed my hair behind my ears, his thumbs gently stroking my cheeks.
Eyes slipping closed, I inhaled deeply, allowing his calm to intertwine with my own. “It seems foolish now,” I finally said.
“Nothing that upsets you is foolish. Now, out with it.”
Instead of speaking, I handed over Huxley’s card. Franklin’s eyebrows rose as he took the seemingly innocuous envelope from my hand. His eyes quickly scanned the contents, his cheeks darkening as red crept in. “When did this arrive?”
“Today?” I thought back and shook my head. “Maybe yesterday. I can’t remember if I got the mail yesterday.”
“I know I didn’t.” Stepping away from me, Franklin paced back and forth a few times before he stopped and asked, “Did you call your pops?”
“Not yet. I didn’t even think about it. I just wanted to get to you.” My cheeks heated.
Franklin’s angered features relaxed as a lazy grin took the place of his thinned lips. “You did, huh?”
I nodded, my hands shoved deep into my pants pockets. Pops’s charms sifted through my fingers. “I think it was more instinct than anything.”
“I can’t say that I hate that. I hate the reason, but not the result.” Franklin stepped closer again, kissing the crown of my head.
“Do you think I’m overreacting?” I almost wished Franklin would say that I was.
“Fuck no,” he unfortunately answered.
Unease filtered back in at an alarming rate.
“It says that he’ll see me soon.” I swallowed hard.
“Do you think that means the man himself will show or…” My eyes darted to every shadowed corner.
For all I knew, Huxley could be watching us right now.
Was he getting some sort of sick satisfaction witnessing me panicking?
“I don’t know. I wish I did.” Franklin sounded as frustrated as I felt.
“Regardless, I don’t think he’s going to grace us with his presence right this second.”
“Agreed.” Franklin let loose a weighty sigh. “I—”
“Detective O’Hare. There’s something you should probably see over here.” Officer Johns gave me an apologetic glance. “Sorry to take your man away, Boone.”
“It’s okay. I know you guys are busy.” I waved Officer Johns off. His answering grin soothed some of my ruffled feathers from my earlier altercation with Officer Grayson.
“You wanna stay here or go back home?” Franklin asked, his head turned away from me as he concentrated on something Officer Johns was doing.
I blew out a breath. “I’ll probably stick around for a little while, but given all the bodies, I doubt you’re getting home until after dawn.”
Franklin nodded. “Yeah, it’s just skeletal remains and—” Franklin’s head whipped around, gaze intense. “Wait. Bodies? As in plural?”
Confused, I nodded. “Yes,” I drawled out.
Franklin scrubbed his face with his hands, his stubble sounding rough. “Just how many bodies are here, Boone?”
Slipping my eyes closed, I tapped into my necromancer side again, double-checking my earlier count. “Six.”
“Christ.” Head tilted back, Franklin stared into the sky. “Six.”
“They’re spread out some, but all of them are within a few feet of each other.
” I winced. “I don’t think they passed peacefully.
” Rubbing my forehead, the thrumming anger of the deceased filtered in.
I’d been too distracted earlier to pay them much mind.
Now that I was more focused, their cries were becoming deafening.
Pulling out his phone, Franklin hit a couple of buttons.
It wasn’t long before Franklin said, “We’ve got a situation, Captain.
” Franklin’s gaze shifted to me. “Boone’s here.
” His eyes slipped closed. “Six.” Franklin pulled the phone away from his ear and even I could hear Captain Cicely cursing on the other end.
“I’ll ask.” Pulling the receiver away from his mouth, Franklin asked, “Care to show us where they are?”
“Of course.” Franklin had to know my answer and most likely only asked out of politeness. His answering, gentle smile warmed my core.
“Boone’s on board. I’ll call you when I know more.” Franklin ended the call and said, “Lead on.”