Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
Erasmus
I stared at the faded recipe, trying to make out the sketchy print. It was my grandmother’s potato soup recipe. I’d told Franklin I wanted to try cooking for us tonight and was beginning to think my aspirations were foolish. “Does that say one cup or half a cup of shredded carrots? Wait, why does potato soup have carrots?” I stared at the carrot in my hand and felt like a fool. It wasn’t like the carrot was going to answer me, and if it did then this whole potato soup expedition was doomed.
Grandma Boone passed away when I was seven. While, overall, I remembered her fondly, it wasn’t all sunshine and roses. I knew Momma’s mother loved me. Momma wouldn’t have stood for her remaining in our lives if she didn’t. What I also knew was that Grandma Boone struggled with my species. Momma had no idea I was sitting in my room, the door cracked, when Momma told Grandma Boone about the first soul I’d brought back. Of course, at the time, I’d had no idea what I was really doing or the reaction pulling Jefferson Dillman’s soul back from beyond the veil during his calling hours would incite. Needless to say, his family wasn’t pleased. Horrified would be a more fitting description.
As for me, I’d just been confused. Everyone had been so sad. Like the na?ve child I was, I thought his family would be pleased when I brought him back from the beyond. I’d expected hugs and joyous thank-yous. What I’d gotten were screams, women and men fainting, and Momma hurrying me out of the funeral home.
My eyes watered and I blamed it on the onion I’d started dicing, adding it to the large pot. A few chicken bouillon cubes, salt, pepper, and water to cover the mix and I was on my way to a hopefully edible homemade dinner.
The wind whistled outside. It still wasn’t nearly as cold as it had been in Chicago last month, but it was chilly and still damp. That was the way of late fall and early winter. It had seemed like a good soup day, and I’d wanted to try my hand at something that didn’t come from a diner or can. Grandma Boone’s potato soup sounded like heaven. I pulled out a pre-made loaf of French bread to go along with it. My cooking aspirations only went so far. Baking a loaf of bread was a bridge too far.
My phone pinged with a text from Franklin and I wondered if I’d ever stop stupidly grinning when his name popped up on my phone.
Leaving work now. Be there in less than twenty , Franklin’s text said. I responded with a heart emoji on his message and set my phone back down. The TV was on in the living room but I had it muted while I listened to the radio. Swaying my hips to the beat, I stirred the soup and inhaled the aroma.
Scooting around the kitchen in my socked feet, I felt the edge of my left foot tap something and jerked back when that something rolled over my foot.
“Holy fucking shit!” Spoon in hand, I leaped back from the stove, my heart hammering away. I was shaking with adrenaline when my eyes finally registered what hit my foot. With a growl, I yelled, “Aurelia! Where the fuck are you? You better not have ditched the furball here.”
“I am in what you call the living room. I do not understand the purpose of having the picture box on with no sound.” Aurelia’s voice was muffled, growing stronger as I marched through the kitchen on my way to the living room, stirring spoon still in hand.
“When did you get here?” Aurelia’s hamster rolled across the kitchen, heading for the living room. Its little ball changed sounds as it went from the tiled kitchen floor to the wooden floor in the rest of the house.
“Time has no meaning to me, so I do not know how to answer,” Aurelia casually replied.
Of course it didn’t . I inhaled, pulling that breath deep into my lungs, feeling it all the way to my toes before slowly exhaling. I added a countdown from ten before I felt in control of my emotions to respond. “Would it be too much to ask that you let me know when you decide to pop in?”
Aurelia was sitting on the couch, her back to me and her tattooed bald head and neck on full display. She didn’t bother turning around when she responded. “You have seemed upset in the past when I arrive. I thought to try a different tactic. I presumed this would be better.”
I was glad Aurelia couldn’t see my slow blink, not that she would have known what to make of it. I was oddly perplexed. In her own way, it sounded like Aurelia was attempting to be considerate. Mouth opening, I closed it while struggling for the right words. Finally, I settled on “while I appreciate your thoughtfulness, I think it would be best if you alerted me to your presence. It’s more…disconcerting to know you’ve been here and I haven’t known.”
Aurelia’s slow head turn didn’t seem natural and set my heart racing for a whole host of new reasons. The odd angle looked like something out of a horror movie. One Caribbean blue eye stared at me while the edge of her lip twisted into something close to a smirk. “It is interesting that you believe you always know when I am present.”
This time, when my mouth dropped open, it wasn’t because I didn’t know what to say. It was because my mind went blank before panic set in. That panic turned to fury in less than two seconds flat.
“You’ve been in my house and hidden your presence from me.” My voice sounded cold even to my own ears.
Aurelia’s smirk grew as she answered a cryptic “perhaps” before turning her attention back to the silent television.
I stood there, fuming while Aurelia’s pet rolled back down the hall, once more smacking into my foot before turning directions and heading back into the kitchen. The little rodent certainly seemed to be enjoying itself. That made one of us. Two if we were including the djinn sitting on my couch.
“The scent in your kitchen smells interesting,” Aurelia said as if the past ten minutes hadn’t taken place.
“It’s potato soup,” I grumbled while heading back into the kitchen. I vigorously stirred the soup, taking my frustration out on it. “Creepy fuckin’ djinn,” I mumbled too low for even Aurelia to hear.
I think she said something else, but I was too busy mentally brooding to pay attention. I don’t know why it never occurred to me that she might keep her presence hidden from me as well. If Aurelia’s object of attachment were closer, I’d probably be able to feel her better. Or maybe not. Aurelia’s soul was contained within the object. If it were closer, I’d always feel Aurelia’s soul. Would that feeling change when the two were in close proximity? I tried to remember what it had felt like that first time, when they had been close together, and couldn’t ferret it out. I wasn’t paying attention to the particulars at the time.
I was starting to give myself a headache and forcefully pushed thoughts of Aurelia and her trapped soul from my brain. I had enough presence of mind to text Franklin that Aurelia was here. I didn’t get a response back and wasn’t surprised. Franklin was most likely driving.
“I am entering the kitchen,” Aurelia announced. When I glanced her direction, she had her hamster carrying backpack dangling from one hand. She set it on a kitchen chair before making her way toward the stove. Nose in the air, she sniffed and came a little closer. “It does not smell horrible.”
“Thanks,” I muttered.
“You are welcome,” Aurelia answered, not catching my earlier sarcasm. “Peaches’s friend, Philodendron, has introduced me to several different foods and baked goods. According to Peaches, Phil is considered a good maker of food.”
“And what do you think?” I asked while turning the gas down and allowing the soup to simmer.
Aurelia shrugged. “I have very little to compare it to. However, most of his dishes I find acceptable, although most are too sweet and none are as good as the Jell-O from Harvest Day.”
I somehow managed to suppress my laugh. “Peaches told me he ordered Jell-O delivered to the orchard.”
“He did.” Aurelia sounded pleased. “Peaches is an interesting master.”
The way she said interesting perked my ears. If anything, Aurelia sounded confused.
My earlier ire simmered, much like the soup. Holding Aurelia to societal norms and expectations wasn’t fair. In many ways, Aurelia was like a barely tamed feral creature. She’d been treated like a possession—used and abused—for millennia and she’d responded in kind. Thousands of years of abuse couldn’t be erased over a few months. There was no book, no guideline on how to integrate an ancient, all-powerful djinn into modern society. We were all flying by the seat of our pants, including Aurelia.
“Peaches seems like a good pixie,” I said. I generally tried to steer clear regarding discussions of Aurelia’s master . “He never wanted to be your master. Peaches stepped in to help protect you.”
Aurelia’s lip curled. “He is protecting others from me.”
I swallowed hard and nodded. “I won’t argue that. But he’s also protecting you. It’s like two sides of the same coin. Peaches doesn’t want anyone else to have that kind of control over you. He doesn’t want someone else to make you do things you don’t want to do.”
Head cocked to the side, Aurelia’s unreadable mask was firmly in place. Her golden hoops shimmered from the edges of her ears as her head canted. After what felt like a lifetime, Aurelia answered with a simple “we will see.”
I nodded my agreement. “That’s fair.”
Aurelia’s eyes widened before she said, “You believe so?”
“I do. I imagine Peaches does also. Now, would you like to try some of the soup? It will be hot so you’ll need to let it cool a bit and then it should be safe to eat.”
“Hot soup would not damage me.”
It was easy to forget how invulnerable Aurelia was. “That may be, but is burning your mouth a pleasant feeling?”
“No.”
“Then there’s your answer. I’ll dish the soup out into bowls so it can start cooling. Franklin should be here soon.” No sooner did I say the words than I heard the front door open.
“Just me,” Franklin stated, his voice raised loud enough for me to hear.
“We’re in the kitchen,” I answered back. Aurelia remained silent. She’d moved closer to the cooling bowls of soup. Franklin walked into the kitchen to the sight of Aurelia’s nose practically inside one of the bowls.
Eyebrows reaching for the sky, Franklin looked from me to Aurelia.
“Don’t ask,” I muttered while turning my attention to the fridge. “It will take some time for the soup to cool. Would you like something to drink in the meantime?”
“Lemonade,” Franklin answered. I’d started keeping it on tap just like Momma’s sweet tea. “Coming right up. Aurelia?”
“Water.” Aurelia wasn’t a fan of our sweet tea and didn’t seem to care for lemonade either.
“You got it.” Water for Aurelia, lemonade for my man, and sweet tea for me. Franklin helped me carry the glasses to the table. We each grabbed a bowl of soup. Aurelia followed our example. I’d already turned down the volume on the music and could now hear the hamster ball rolling around.
“I take it our furry friend is here as well,” Franklin said.
Aurelia waved a hand in the air. “The creature is currently content.”
I blew on a spoonful of soup before asking, “Still no name?”
Aurelia snorted. “The creature is too pathetic to warrant a name.”
I opened my mouth, ready to argue but simply shrugged. While I didn’t agree, I didn’t believe arguing would get me very far. Honestly, I was surprised Aurelia was still carting the thing around. She’d taken to Little Fang much better.
“How about Furball?” Franklin asked.
Aurelia blinked, head cocked to the side before nodding. “It is appropriate. A useless name for a useless creature.”
Franklin sat back. Unlike me, he wasn’t willing to let it go. “I wouldn’t go that far. Hamsters have their uses. And before you ask, no, I’m not certain what they might be beyond company. There are a lot of humans and members of other species that keep them as pets. Some find joy in their antics and pleasure in their soft fur.” Franklin shrugged. “Bringing joy to someone is far from useless.”
Aurelia stared long enough that Franklin fidgeted. I was about to say something—anything to change the topic, when Aurelia surprised me by saying, “It does not bring me joy, therefore, it is useless to me. But perhaps, it is not useless in general.”
It was my turn to stare. “That’s very insightful, Aurelia,” I said and meant every word.
“I can be insightful.” Aurelia’s tone was without inflection or a hint of humor. Taking a sip of the soup, Aurelia rolled the food around in her mouth before swallowing. She took a second sip and then a third before declaring, “It is acceptable, though not as good as some of the food Phil makes. Perhaps Peaches is correct.”
Franklin gave me a blank stare, so I explained, “Phil is a bonded home and hearth pixie. According to Peaches, he’s a whiz in the kitchen.”
“From what I understand, most home and hearth pixies are,” Franklin agreed.
Conversation was light, mostly revolving around the different types of pixies sharing our earth. Aurelia piped in with a comment here and there but mostly she remained quiet. She had a second helping of potato soup. Franklin and I did too. We also managed to demolish the French bread.
When she was finished, Aurelia scooped up the hamster ball, deposited said hamster in her backpack, and vanished. Surprisingly, she did thank me for the soup.
I was still staring at the space Aurelia had just disappeared from when I said, “She’s been here when I haven’t known it.”
Franklin was halfway to standing, empty bowl in hand. He stopped midmotion. “What, exactly, does that mean?”
I barked out a humorless laugh. “Beyond extremely unsettling and downright creepy?”
“Beyond that.”
“I have no idea.”
Franklin grunted as he cleared the table. “Do you think she’d stop if you asked her?”
“Again, no idea. How would I even know if she complied?”
“Fair point.” Franklin loaded the dishwasher and immediately rummaged through the cabinet, searching for a container to store the soup in. “This was excellent, by the way.”
I got up to help Franklin with clean up. “I don’t think it’s as good as I remember Grandma Boone’s being, but it wasn’t bad.”
“Go sit. You cooked. I can clean.” Franklin shooed me back to the table.
“And you worked all day.”
“And you didn’t?”
“Eh…” I waggled my hand back and forth. “I didn’t have a client today. I did get a text from Detective Cardoza. He managed to get the okay from his boss, and it looks like we’re also legally in the clear to bring Thomas Speedler’s soul back again. Detective Cardoza wants to set up a time later this week for me to meet with him. He’s trying to coordinate with Pablo.”
“The insurance investigator?”
“That’s him. When I get an exact date and time, I’ll contact Janet Meeker and see if that day also works out for her to bring back her granddaddy’s soul.”
“You’re going to accept the job?” Franklin asked as he started the dishwasher.
“I can’t find an exact reason not to. I’ve had plenty of clients who rub me the wrong way. It’ll be fine.” I wasn’t blowing smoke. At least half, and probably more, of my clients were somewhat unpleasant. I’d learned to deal with it over the years. “How was your day?” I asked when Franklin grabbed a beer from the fridge, pulled a kitchen chair closer to me, and heavily sat down. He’d placed a kiss on my temple before sitting and that spot sang with warmth.
After a heavy pull from his beer, Franklin sighed and said, “Interesting.”
“Are you sure about that?” His interesting had sounded more exhausting than exciting.
“I am, just not the kind of interesting I like.” With another sigh, Franklin filled me in on his conversation with Tenzen Huxley and Pops.
I sat there, patiently listening as my heartrate gradually increased. I didn’t know what shocked me more, the fact that Tenzen called Franklin or that Franklin’s response had been to call Pops. All that surprise was overshadowed hearing how Tenzen had referred to me. “He really called me a commodity?” That word made me sound like an object, not a sentient, living creature.
“He did. I’m not sure if it was a slip of the tongue, or—”
“Slip or not, it’s degrading,” I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Agreed, and I told him exactly that.”
Franklin’s quick defense relaxed some of the tension in my chest.
“On the plus side, the way Huxley talked, you should be hearing from the Warlock Council soon. A list of necromancer mother names should be forthcoming. Once we get that, the real work will begin.”
My heart sank into my gut. “How many names do you think they’ll be?”
Franklin’s beer was halfway to his lips when he paused, deep in thought. “I have no idea. I imagine it will take a long-ass time to go through them all, and we’re just starting with North America.”
Foolishly, I hadn’t even considered that. Franklin was right. Necromancers didn’t simply exist in the United States and Canada. They could be found all over the world. Unless… “Necromancers might not exist in some countries. They…” I’d heard the rumors, that human law dictated necromancer babies be terminated at birth. So far, Fairy Law had allowed them to get away with it. Maybe I did need to have a conversation with Wendall Galen. He had his aunt’s ear, the Queen of Fairy.
Franklin’s hand reached out, squeezing mine. “One step at a time. Let’s clean up our backyard before we breach the neighbor’s territory.”
“You’re right. I just…”
“I know, baby. I know.” Franklin’s palm cupped my cheek, and I leaned into the casual touch. It felt so good, knowing that Franklin enjoyed touching my skin. His thick fingers were never harsh. They were a gentle sweep, the lightest hint of his deeper affection.
“Do you think we should warn Leander? Did I place him in danger?” Worry ate at my gut.
“I think it’s always wise to give a heads-up, but I honestly don’t think Leander’s in any more danger than before. I do agree with your pops about keeping the necromancers we find under wraps. At least for the time being.”
My sigh was long and deep. “I think you’re right.”
Franklin’s grin scrunched his cheeks. “I’m always right.”
“And incredibly humble.” I chuckled, but it didn’t completely take away my unease. What, exactly, had I gotten myself into? All I wanted to do was peacefully live my life. I’d never aimed to be a hero. Growing up, I’d had no such grand aspirations. I wanted to fly under the radar. Somewhere along the line, I’d turned myself into a Boeing 747 jetliner flying through the sky, pinging on every damn electronical device and easily seen from the ground below.
“Come on. Let’s get cleaned up and more comfortable.” Franklin drained the remainder of his beer before tossing it into the recycling container. Helping me stand, Franklin moved us not to the couch, but the bedroom. Rummaging around in his dresser and mine, Franklin grabbed us each a change of clothes and tugged me toward the bathroom.
“Showering together?” I cocked an eyebrow as I watched Franklin bend over and turn on the faucet.
“Saves on water,” he answered with a wink. “Now, strip down and get your tempting ass in the tub.”
“So bossy,” I teased but did as I was instructed knowing Franklin would soon be naked too. A brief thought of Aurelia somewhere nearby, blind to my vision and yet Franklin and myself on full display, flashed through my brain. I viciously tamped the unsettling image down, locking it away and attempting to throw away the key. I would not allow Aurelia to come between me and my time alone with the man I loved. Times like this with Franklin were more precious than any metal or gemstone. Being like this, alone, naked, and wet with Franklin’s loving hands soaping my body was beyond priceless.