Chapter 7 #2
The room quieted before Loretta’s deep brown eyes tracked my direction. “What do you make of this, Erasmus?”
I shifted with unease. “I’m not sure. All I can tell you is that none of them were lying. Four of those women are absolutely certain they know who killed them.”
Loretta dropped her hands and leaned back into her chair. Fingers tapping along the armrests, Loretta’s gaze appeared far away. “There’s one thing they all have in common.”
“Two,” Franklin corrected, and when Loretta questioningly stared at him, Franklin clarified. “Their manner of death and where they were found.”
“True,” Loretta agreed. “Those two things aren’t a coincidence. These women are linked by something.” She blew out a tired breath. “Each and every one said the same thing—they couldn’t breathe.” Loretta shuddered. “Gaia, what is wrong with the world?”
“That road is a one-way trip to frustrated insanity.” Franklin rubbed his hand over his head and chin.
His close-cropped hair bristled, and his five-o’clock shadow sounded rough against his palm.
Reaching over, I placed a hand on his thigh and squeezed.
My man cared so damn much. It was a good trait in a homicide detective.
It was also mentally and emotionally wearing.
The room quieted again, each of us lost in our own thoughts.
Finally, Loretta startled, as if coming back to the here and now.
“It’s been a long day. Let’s get out of here and start fresh tomorrow.
” Pointedly looking at Franklin and me, Loretta added, “I doubt the two of you have gotten a lot of sleep. Get out of here and rectify that situation.”
Franklin stood, a few pops and groans echoing around the room as he stretched his body. Arm outstretched, Franklin offered me his hand. I started to reach for it but stopped. Understandably confused, Franklin stared down at me and simply questioned, “Boone?”
I debated for half a second before activating Pops’s silencing charm and word vomiting what had been weighing on my mind. “Loretta, what do you know about Ajita?”
Loretta Cicely’s deep frown and pinched eyes indicated her obvious confusion. “Who?”
I swallowed hard and repeated the name. “Ajita.”
Loretta glanced Franklin’s direction. His shrug indicated he had no idea what I was talking about. “I guess the answer is nothing, considering I’ve never heard that name before. Is this a body you’ve found or a case you’re working on?”
“I…” I hesitated for a moment before spilling the djinn beans.
Franklin slowly sank back into the chair beside me, a softly plaintive “Christ” slipping through his lips.
Loretta’s deep brown skin turned ashen. Her expressive eyes pained and filled with something I couldn’t identify and had never seen before.
“Dear Gaia,” Loretta whispered when I’d finished relating what I’d learned from Aurelia.
“A witch was the first. She… I had no idea. I don’t even know what to say to that.
” Lost. That’s the emotion I hadn’t been able to identify.
Loretta looked completely lost. “I suppose it makes some type of twisted sense.”
“How do you figure?” Franklin asked. His tone wasn’t accusing, but more curious than anything.
Loretta shrugged and once again her eyes held that faraway look. “Power. I’m ashamed to say it, but the witches of that era craved power over anything else. Why give that power away if you can claim it yourself.”
Franklin sucked in a heated breath. “Shit. I never thought of that.”
“Most wouldn’t,” Loretta answered. “I wish my ancestors never had. But we can’t go back in time and change the past. All we can hope to do is learn from it, grow, and not repeat past atrocities.
As you both know, much of what is known regarding djinn creation and their history has been purged from our archives and grimoires. ”
I still questioned the wisdom of such actions.
Since learning more about djinn and their creation, I wondered if witches had scrubbed the information so such mistakes couldn’t be repeated or to try and erase the shameful memory all together.
Either way, current lack of knowledge was incredibly frustrating and ultimately very unhelpful.
“Is there anyone you can ask?” As with most species, witch culture had a hierarchy, and the elder witches typically held information the younger ones did not.
Loretta gave a slow nod. “I believe so. I can certainly make inquiries.” She swallowed hard and paled a little more. “You said Aurelia thinks she might be able to contact this…Ajita?”
“Maybe. There are no certainties when it comes to Aurelia.”
“Too fucking true,” Franklin agreed.
I squeezed Franklin’s hand. “Perhaps the bigger question isn’t if Aurelia can find and contact Ajita, but if she should.”
“Is Aurelia afraid of Ajita?” Franklin asked. “Because if she is, then I think we both know the answer to that question.”
I thought back on my conversation with Aurelia and shook my head.
“I wouldn’t say she’s afraid. I get the feeling she’s more upset about the fact that Ajita is—or I guess was—a witch.
I think she’s also jealous that Ajita can not only touch her object of attachment but keep it so no other can control her.
Ajita’s never suffered a master.” I considered those words and amended.
“Or at least she eliminated the one who attempted to master her. If she was ever controlled, it was for a very short time as compared to the millennia Aurelia has had to deal with others dictating her actions and fate.”
“She’s understandably bitter,” Loretta said.
“I believe that’s true.” Bitterness tainted much of Aurelia’s personality and decisions. I didn’t hold that against her. If there was ever a creature that deserved every ounce of bitterness rotting their soul, it was Aurelia. Probably all the other djinn as well.
“Is it worth the risk?” Franklin’s tone was soft and filled with worry. “I mean, do we even know if Ajita knows anything about shadow borne?”
It was a valid question and one I had no answer to. “I don’t know. I don’t think Aurelia knows for certain. However, I have to think Ajita will know more than the rest of us. Aurelia is confident that the witches of her time knew more about shadow borne or at least spoke of them.”
“With fear,” Franklin pointed out.
“I won’t argue that.”
“Shit.” Franklin leaned back, his long legs stretched out before him. “Gotta say, that doesn’t add a damn bit of calm to the storm constantly plaguing my flight-or-fight instincts where Huxley’s concerned.”
“Nor should it,” Loretta said as she leaned an elbow on her desk, pointing a finger Franklin’s way. “We’ve seen what Huxley can do, and as far as we know, he was thousands of miles away when he murdered Erasmus’s attackers.”
A full-body shiver slithered its way from my head to my toes as memories of Titus McMahon and his wife assaulted my mind.
Considering they’d been hell-bent on murdering me, I didn’t mourn their deaths.
But the way they’d died… I could hear the crack of their necks as if they’d been broken mere seconds ago instead of months.
“Hey, you okay?” Franklin’s fingers gripped my shoulder, comfortingly applying just the right amount of pressure.
I swallowed hard. Was I okay? It was a good question, one I wish I truly knew the answer to. In some ways, the question wasn’t really important. What really mattered was that I didn’t have the luxury of not being okay.
“I’m fine,” I sort of lied. “At least as fine as I’m getting.” I added a bit more truth when Franklin gave me doubting eyes.
Opening his mouth, I think Franklin wanted to say something comforting but either couldn’t come up with anything or knew it would sound trite. In the end, he settled for a firm nod. “The captain’s right. We both need sleep, and you need a boatload of calories.”
A bone cracking yawn overtook me. Bringing back six souls for interrogation was draining. “Lots of carbohydrates?” I asked hopefully.
Franklin’s lips twitched. “Anything you want.”
“And ice cream?” If there was one thing that could be counted on in the South, it was every corner had a liquor store, church, or ice cream shop.
Leaning across his chair, Franklin’s lips softly brushed against mine, his previous words a whispered promise. “Anything you want.”
I could think of a lot of things I wanted. Right now, I’d settle for a carbalicious meal followed by an ice cream cone or three, a hot shower, and falling asleep cuddled up to the man who woke up every morning and decided to keep loving me.