Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
Franklin
“Do you know our victim’s name?” I asked, pulling out my spiral notebook. My shoes neared the lake’s edge. It was shallower here, and cattails grew alongside duckweed.
Boone concentrated for a moment before he answered, “Phineas Noland.”
“Phineas? That sounds like—”
“Warlock,” Boone supported my unfortunate thought. Warlocks only had two names. Anglo-Saxon humans typically had three. Some humans had more than three names and some species only had one name. Pixies typically had just the one. The first lesson I learned from Boone was that names were important. They were a soul’s identity, their calling card. It was the key to their return. Once he latched onto their thread, the name followed. Don’t ask me how. I had no more idea of that than why pixies produce dust, or anything else magical.
“Shit.”
“Shit indeed.” Boone’s fingers twitched and when he caught me staring, he said, “I really wanna call Pops. A witch is one thing, but now we’ve got a dead warlock on our hands. I haven’t tried pulling his soul back yet, but I’ve got a sinking feeling it will be in the same condition as Rebecca’s.”
Guilt ate at me. Worry too. Still, I had a job to do and a victim to recover. “I hate to ask.”
“Trust me, I hate to hear it.” Boone grinned without an ounce of joy.
“Do we need to fish the body out first?” I stared over the lake. One of the officers had a boat, and a couple of them were in the water. Not that I thought they’d find him that way.
Boone considered before shaking his head. “I think the easiest way will be for me to call the soul back. When I do that, I might be able to make him stand long enough to get somewhere the others can find him. I… Typically, I could ask a corpse to walk to us, or if they’re in good enough condition, swim.”
“But you don’t think this one will be typical.”
“No.” He cringed. “I probably won’t be able to hold him for long. I, uh… I was coming back from a job when I heard this one.” Boone hooked a thumb in the direction of the lake. “Given what happened with Rebecca’s soul, I probably should have canceled my appointment tonight.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Nope. I’m a trooper like that.” Boone threw me a wink before his grin faded into a frown. “To be completely honest, I’m wiped, Franklin.”
Boone hardly ever used my first name, and hearing it now, spoken in such a vulnerable tone, did something squishy to my insides. “What can we do to help?” I asked, determined to give Boone whatever he needed.
“That’s what I like about you, Detective. You don’t pussyfoot around the issue.” Pointing toward the boat, Boone said, “Have them get ready. I don’t think our victim’s been down there long, but I’m not sure if there’s anything weighting him down. If so, then I may not be able to do much to get him out. But if we get lucky, the guys in the boat will need to be ready to get wet. They better have good constitutions too.”
I stepped away and spoke into my radio, paraphrasing what Boone had said. After a moment, I waved one of the local boys in blue over and said, “See if anyone’s got any candy, soda, or juice on hand. I’ve got a feeling we’re going to need it.”
The officer’s dark-brown eyes blinked once before he nodded and replied, “I’ll see what I can find.”
Clapping him on the shoulder, I added, “Bring whatever you’ve got back to me.” That taken care of, I turned my attention back to Boone. “I think I’m ready on my end. How about you?”
He shrugged. “Ready as I’m going to get.” Cheeks flushed, Boone stammered, “I-if you don’t mind, you might wanna stay close in case…” He waved a hand in the general direction of the nearby ground.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” I stepped closer, hands at the ready. I wouldn’t allow Boone to fall. “I don’t have a problem touching you, if that’s what you’re afraid of.” I’d seen it too many times before. Many were touch-averse when it came to necromancers. I had no idea why, and had never suffered the same idiocy.
Boone’s cheeks flushed further. “That’s good to know, Detective.” His tongue darted out, licking his bottom lip before slipping back inside. My gaze was far too focused on that slight movement.
Eyes slipping closed, Boone’s body stilled. Only the slight tightening around the corners of his eyes betrayed his actions.
“Gotcha,” Boone whispered before his voice grew in cadence. “Phineas Noland, I call on you to—” Boone dropped, fingers tangled in his hair and his chest heaving.
I sprang into action, catching him and easing us both to the ground. Boone’s body was taut, every muscle clenched with tremors. His mouth was pulled into a god-awful mockery of a scream, but his voice was silent.
“Boone!”
He didn’t answer, simply stayed in that rictus position.
I tried shaking him but to no avail. “Boone!” I shouted again.
Still, nothing.
“Erasmus.”
That got me a jerk and an eyelid flutter.
“Let it go. It’s not worth this.” We’d find the damn body on our own. We’d—
Bubbles stirred in the water, quickly followed by an unholy scream cresting the surface.
With Boone still in my arms, I shouted, “There!” while pointing frantically in the direction of the rising body. The sound of the boat motor picking up steam was barely heard over our victim’s continued screams.
Within a matter of seconds, officers pulled the body out of the water and hauled him over the boat edge.
“They’ve got him. Erasmus. They’ve got Noland. Let him go. Let him go now!”
The word “release” ground through Boone’s clenched teeth. And just like that, the screaming stopped, leaving behind Boone’s soft whimpers.
“Boone?” I cradled him, shifting his body into my lap and resting his head against my chest. “Dammit, Boone, talk to me.” My fingers carded through his damp hair, his whole body drenched in sweat. “Fucking hell, I knew this was a bad idea.” My head snapped up, eyes scanning, but not connecting with all the wide eyes staring my direction. “Where’s that damn candy?”
“I’ve got it!” A different officer ran toward me, a plastic bag filled with God only knew what swinging from one hand, two different types of soda gripped in the other. The cans were jostled enough that I’d get a soda volcano in the face when I opened them.
Falling on his knees, the officer held out the bag and cracked open a can of what turned out to be Sprite. As predicted, it sprayed all over, but to his credit the officer just wiped his face and shoved the remnants forward.
I snatched the can and brought it to Boone’s lips, ordering, “Drink.”
This time, Boone’s darting tongue wasn’t nearly as erotic. It was a reminder of just how depleted he was—what he’d put himself through for me.
No, not for me , I silently scolded. Boone had done that for the victim, and to help solve this growing case. I was digging a deep enough emotional hole. I didn’t need to add those kinds of thoughts to the pit.
Boone took a couple larger sips and managed a piece of candy. His tense body eased, muscles loosening until he felt like a limp noodle. Ever so slowly, his eyelids fluttered until slivers of emerald peeked through. A lazy grin slid its way across his face.
“Hey, O’Hare. Thanks for catching me.”
I blew out a quick huff of relieved air. “Are you trying to get me killed?” I asked. “In case you forgot, I promised your father—your very powerful warlock father—that I’d take care of you.” I shook my head. “You had absolutely no business trying that, and should have let Noland’s soul go the second I told you to.”
“I couldn’t,” Boone rasped.
“As in physically impossible?”
“Not that. I had to hold on, had to get his body out of that lake. I couldn’t just leave him. I—”
“I get it, but one victim is enough, don’t you think?”
Boone’s grin widened. “I didn’t know you cared, O’Hare.”
I rolled my eyes to cover my flinch. Oh, I cared. I cared far too much. “You’re a brat. I have no idea how your momma and pops put up with you.”
Mentioning his parents erased Boone’s grin. “Yeah, about that… Could you not mention this to them?”
My eyebrows shot skyward. “I believe that would be mutually beneficial.” I had no wish to rile Nikodemus Holland. Momma Boone wasn’t wise to worry either.
Boone chuckled, voice still incredibly raspy, before he let loose a heavy sigh. “While I hate to leave this comfy little nest you’ve created, I think I can sit up on my own now.”
I started to say something but tripped over my words so badly that only incoherent grunts managed escape. Boone just grinned and chuckled as I released him. I kept a hand on his elbow when I saw him wince.
“Thanks. I better not try standing yet. Think I’ll just sit here and commune with the weeds. They’re pretty things. Remarkably soft too.” Boone patted the ground to his side, running his fingers lovingly over the greenery.
With difficulty, I pulled my gaze away from Erasmus Boone as I heard the boat’s motor come closer. Shouts and loud calls took over as they killed the engine and allowed the boat to drift to the shore.
“Go on,” Boone said. “Shoo. I’ll be fine here.”
Standing, I brushed the dirt and debris from my pants. Pointing a finger, I ordered, “Don’t move.”
Boone offered me a cheeky grin and said, “Cross my heart and hope to—”
“Don’t you fucking dare finish that sentence.”
Boone’s soft, raspy chuckles followed me as I walked toward the lake’s edge, closer to the boat and our latest victim.
“What have we got?” I asked, helping haul Noland’s soaked body out of the boat. His skin was gray but appeared intact. Fully dressed, Noland’s corpse was waterlogged and heavier than he would have been while alive. The water made his blacker-than-night hair even darker, nearly shimmering blue. Only a hint or two of gray marked his temples. I knew enough about warlocks to know that meant he was a young one. Even the black tipping his fingers was barely formed.
“Christ,” I muttered while running my hand over the top of my head. “He’s barely old enough to be on his own.” That still made this young warlock about twenty years older than me. But by warlock standards, Noland was little more than a babe.
“We did a quick check for ID,” Officer Danube said, getting out of the boat. His feet and pants were soaked, and probably uncomfortable. He just shook out his leg and moved closer.
“I’ve got ID,” I said, shooting a glance in Boone’s direction. He gave me a little finger wave when he noticed. My neck heated, but I was just relieved he was doing what he’d promised and was where I’d left him.
“The necromancer?” Danube asked, and I cringed.
“Erasmus Boone,” I corrected. “And yes, he is a necromancer.”
Danube didn’t appear to understand my rebuke and continued. “What was all the screaming about? I’ve never seen one of them do that.”
“I have.” Officer Johns walked up, planting his feet beside me, hands on hips. “I came when I heard the radio chatter. Is this really another one?”
I stared down at the body. Only half Noland’s fingers were covered in rings, another indicator as to just how young he was. With a deep swallow and heavy heart, I answered, “I can’t say for certain, but it’s looking that way.”
“Shit.” Johns summed up the situation. “Serial killer?”
It was a term every cop was reluctant to use. “Could be.” If the MO was the same as the Rebecca Mosely murder, then chances were high. Unless we could connect the two victims. “I need to see if there’s a connection between Warlock Phineas Noland and Witch Rebecca Mosely.”
“Sounds like a case for the Magical Usage Council,” Officer Danube said. “Have they been called in yet?”
I didn’t know how much to share and when that was the case, I found silence the best answer.
“Has anyone had time to call Dr. McCallister?” I asked instead. I’d been a little preoccupied with Boone earlier.
“He’s on his way,” Danube answered. “He’ll need us to load up the body.” Danube frowned.
“Yeah, the doc’s not a lot of help in that regard,” Johns easily agreed. “Just don’t tell him that—Doc McCallister’s got a chip on his shoulder.” Johns shrugged. “Not sure why. So he’s kinda small and weak. Who cares?” Johns’s tone made me think he truly believed that and wasn’t just spouting shit.
Not wanting to delve into this conversation further, I walked away and pulled out my cell. Captain Cicely answered on the second ring. “What have you got, O’Hare?”
With a pit of dread building in my stomach, I filled her in.
“Sweet Gaia, what’s going on?”
“I hate to admit it, but I’m not sure yet. I need to look into Mosley and Noland’s backgrounds. Maybe they were seeing each other or—”
“Not likely. Relations have thawed some between witches and warlocks, but not that much. It’s not impossible, just highly unlikely.”
“Understood. Have we heard from the Magical Usage Council?”
“They only know about Rebecca Mosely. I’ll fill them in on our latest victim as soon as I get a preliminary from Dr. McCallister.”
“What do you want me to do in the meantime?”
“Keep investigating. Chances are the Council will take over, but I want to give them as much information as possible. Do your due diligence, O’Hare.”
“Understood,” I answered before ending the call. The rumble of the coroner’s vehicle could be heard coming down the road. McCallister would be here soon. Maybe then we’d get some fucking answers. Then again, maybe not.
“ T he Magical Usage Council will not be taking over the case,” Captain Cicely informed me. Fingers intertwined, the captain’s rings tapped together.
I didn’t try and hide my surprise. “Any reason why not?”
“Apparently, they are currently short-staffed and can’t spare anyone. Agent Frost is who they would typically send to our area, but he has recently become a vampire’s beloved. The bond is new, and they don’t want to separate the two.” Captain Cicely leaned back in her chair and blew out a breath. “That’s the second pixie claimed as a vampire beloved. I expect there will be more.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Pixies and vampires?” My working species knowledge had holes and gaps you could drive a semi-truck through, but I distinctly remembered that vampires didn’t feed from pixies.
The captain waved me off. “It’s been a recent development. The vampire and pixie communities are keeping it hush-hush for now. I think that’s as much for pixie safety as anything. Anyway, the point is that we’re on our own. The Council believes that since I’m a witch and in charge of the case, I’m more than capable of handling the situation.” Captain Cicely grunted. “It’s not that I disagree—it’s just that the council has more resources than I do. They’ve also got more species on the payroll. Considering we’re not certain who’s behind this, that leaves me understandably concerned.”
Unsure what to say, I remained silent.
“What did you find out from Erasmus’s father? Could a warlock do this?”
I relayed the information I’d learned from Warlock Holland. Captain Cicely listened intently, her eyes scrunched up in thought. “That’s disturbing.”
I swallowed before answering. “Not as disturbing as a djinn.”
Captain Cicely’s dark skin paled, turning ashen. “A djinn? What? I mean, why would you say that? Djinn are…”
“Apparently more than myth.”
“They were never myth, Detective. Djinn were all too real. But they’re gone now. No one has seen a djinn in over—”
“Whatever you’re about to say will be outdated news. According to Boone, there is one very active djinn about. In fact, he tells me I’ve been in her presence.”
“W-what?”
I nodded slowly. “She didn’t want me to see her.”
Captain Cicely went very quiet. I could see the pulse in her throat hammering away. Her breathing was short and choppy and her eyes were wide. Licking her trembling lips, Captain Cicely finally asked, “Erasmus knows her?”
“You’d have to ask Boone the particulars, but this djinn, Aurelia, has taken a liking to him and pops up now and again.”
“He’s her master?”
“No. Boone says she’s controlled by a pixie, if you can believe that.” I found it difficult. I’d had a few run-ins with pixies. They liked the heat and tended to congregate in the south, especially in the winter months.
The captain’s mouth opened and closed again before words escaped. Finally, she asked, “Is Erasmus afraid?”
I considered her question before shaking my head. “No, he doesn’t act like it.”
“Then he’s a fool.”
“Perhaps, but I don’t think he is about this.” I got the feeling there was a hell of a lot more information Boone knew but kept under wraps when it came this djinn friend . “He also told me that he’s uncertain if a djinn could shred a soul, but he’s certain Aurelia’s not involved. Don’t ask me how he’s sure. All I can tell you is that he sounded very confident, and I believe him.”
Twisting, Captain Cicely’s swivel chair shifted, her gaze no longer settled on me, her thoughts far away.
“Captain, are you—”
“Thank you, Detective O’Hare. Please inform me when you have more information.”
I knew a dismissal when I heard one. “Yes, ma’am.”
Walking out of Captain Cicely’s office left me more confused than I’d been walking into it. Other species thought humans were secretive and difficult to read. Personally, I didn’t think we had anything on the magical community.