Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
Erasmus
It was an hour later in Virginia than Mississippi. Compared to the time difference between me and Pops, it didn’t seem like much. The sun was perched on the horizon here, but in Virginia, it should have set. I couldn’t think of a better time to call. Peaches answered on the second ring.
“Hello, Erasmus.” Peaches sounded pleasant, like he was pleased my number popped up on his phone.
“Hey, Peaches. Am I calling at a bad time?”
“Not at all.” I could hear the flutter of his wings. “It’s a beautiful evening here. Lucroy and I were just getting ready to walk through the orchard before heading into Dusk. We’re having a little get-together before Parsnip and Vander head off to film another episode of Interspecies Habitat . Lucroy,” Peaches shouted, “do you remember where their latest show is?”
There was a pause, and I could barely make out Lucroy’s low tone but not his words. Peaches was back quickly and said, “British Columbia, that’s right. I’m not sure what species they’re filming. I think one might be a sasquatch, but I’m not certain.” Peaches sighed. “They have an interesting life.”
“They certainly travel a lot.”
“Hmm, that’s true. I wouldn’t want to be away from my orchard that long.”
It wasn’t that Peaches simply didn’t want to be away from his orchard. As a bonded nature pixie, he couldn’t be away from it for long. He’d fade and die within a day.
“Phil and Sedrick are meeting us there. Leon and Phlox too.” Peaches sounded giddy. I was simply confused.
“Who’s Phlox?” I thought Leon and Frost were mated.
“Oh, maybe I shouldn’t have said that.” Low murmuring sounded in the background before the anxiety fled Peaches’s voice. “Lucroy says it’s okay. Phlox is Agent Frost’s true name.”
“Ah, that makes sense. I’m glad everyone’s going to be there. That will make what I have to ask a little easier.” I could kill lots of birds with one proverbial stone.
“I’m going to put you on speakerphone so Lucroy can hear this also. Is that okay?”
“It’s fine.” As far as I was concerned, the more species we got involved, the merrier.
“Necromancer Boone,” Lucroy’s cool, easy voice floated over the phone. “Is there a problem? Has Aurelia done something?”
Interesting how Peaches hadn’t even thought to ask, and yet it was Lucroy’s first concern. “Aurelia’s fine. I think. I mean, beyond randomly popping up here and there, she hasn’t done anything concerning.”
“She really likes you,” Peaches chimed in. I wasn’t so certain that was the right way to phrase it. At this point in her long life, I wasn’t sure if Aurelia truly liked anyone. Tolerated seemed a better word. Interested or fascinated might also fit where I was concerned. At the same time, I don’t think she disliked me. Honestly, Aurelia was one big ball of what the fuck .
“Uh…thanks,” I finally muttered before clearing my throat and saying, “I’ve kind of got an issue that I’d like everyone’s opinion on.” As concisely as possible, I ran through the two recent deaths and the unusual state of their souls.
When I’d finished, a couple of quiet seconds ticked by before Peaches said, “That’s horrible.”
“It is,” I agreed easily.
“Pardon if this is tactless, but did you not threaten to do something similar to that witch, Sylvie, when you brought her soul back?” Lucroy asked emotionlessly.
“I did. I’ve never truly done something like that, but I could . Although if I did, I’d probably completely eviscerate the soul—tear it completely apart,” I clarified. “There wouldn’t be anything left to linger or suffer. I’ve threatened it less than a handful of times, but honestly, I can’t imagine a situation where I’d truly follow through.”
“I see,” Lucroy answered, tone so emotionless I wasn’t sure if he truly did understand or not. “And you wish for Peaches and me to inquire as to whether or not another species might be able to do this?”
“I’ve already spoken with my father. He says a warlock could, but they’d need a necromancer to help. Peaches didn’t mention if Hellfire Rayburn or Wendall would be there tonight.”
“I am uncertain if Wendall is scheduled to work tonight.”
“He’ll probably stop by,” Peaches said. “Wendall likes when we gather.”
A pang of atypical jealousy shot through me. What would it be like to have a group of friends like that? It was a feeling I’d never know. Chances were good I was the most fortunate necromancer on the planet. And yet, that didn’t equate to universal acceptance. I suppose no one was that fortunate, but many species were closer than others. Necromancers were on the very bottom of that list.
“That is true, beloved. However, even if Wendall appears, Ray may not.”
“Lucroy’s right. I’d say Ray shows up about seventy percent of the time,” Peaches agreed.
“If he is not present tonight, with your permission, Necromancer Boone, I will pass along your inquiry. Is that acceptable?”
“More than acceptable. It’s greatly appreciated,” I answered easily.
Lucroy’s tone dropped an impossible octave. “I feel confident saying a vampire cannot do this. Even a vampire as ancient as Nirgal could not harm a soul in the way you describe. However, I am concerned about what is happening. The vampires within Mississippi are part of my nest. I trust you will inform me should this situation directly involve one of my nestmates.”
“I will.” It was an easy promise to make.
“I will hold you to that,” Lucroy sort-of-threatened. Considering I had no intention of keeping anything from him, if it was a threat, it was a pointless one.
Lucroy couldn’t see my eyeroll. Beyond the gesture, I let his comment go. “Have fun tonight,” I said instead.
“Oh, we will,” Peaches happily answered. “The honeysuckle mead will be flowing tonight.” The sound of Peaches’s wings filled the phone line, and despite the crap going on in my life, I chuckled. I could just see him zipping around, flying high and spreading golden dust all over the place.
“Is there anything else you require?” Lucroy asked. It was subtle, but his tone sounded lighter.
“No, that’s it. Thanks for your help. I appreciate it.”
“It is our pleasure,” Lucroy answered. “Aurelia—”
“I know,” I cut him off even though I wasn’t sure exactly what he was about to say. Regardless, Lucroy and I were on the same page. Peaches might not share our concern, but Aurelia was a loose cannon. Currently, her fuse was quiescent. I don’t believe any of us wanted to know what would happen should someone hold a lighter to it.
Without another word, Lucroy ended the call. Tossing my phone onto the couch, I leaned back, bare toes gripping the coffee table a couple of feet away. I was still wiped out. My body was sluggish, and if it weren’t for Pops’s pain charms, my head would be a constant, painful ache. My stomach was a bottomless pit as it valiantly attempted to refill my empty tank.
Leaning my head back, my eyelids slipped closed. The hum of the refrigerator kicking on and off along with the intermittent air-conditioning lulled my mind closer and closer to blissful sleep nirvana. The ring of my doorbell popped that illusory bubble.
I rolled my head, tempted to ignore it. The doorbell chimed again, and I forced my sluggish body off the couch. Scrubbing the sleep from my eyes, I headed toward the door. It had to be a friend. Pops’s charms wouldn’t allow anyone who meant me harm to step foot on the porch, let alone close enough to ring the doorbell.
Going up on my tiptoes, I flipped on the porch light and checked the peephole, just in case. My heart fluttered when I saw Franklin O’Hare’s eyes staring back at me.
Unlocking the door, I swung it open, staring up at Franklin through the haze of my screen door. Leaning against the frame, I crossed my arms casually and gave Franklin a lazy smile. “Hey there, fancy meeting you on my porch.”
Franklin’s neck flushed. “Sorry to drop by unannounced,” Franklin said, tone all business.
My belly itched, and I casually satisfied that itch by pulling up my t-shirt and scratching it. Franklin’s gaze followed the movement and his lips parted. A zing of hope sped through my heart, making it do double time. Was Franklin interested? He knew what I was. The only hookups I’d had over the years were with those that didn’t know I was a necromancer. I’d never been with anyone who recognized my species.
Time drew out, holding still. The dense humidity flooding the area seemed to lock the moment down even tighter.
Tinkling music filtered down the road, growing louder as an ice-cream truck trundled by. The sound of kids running and the truck slowing broke the moment.
Clearing his throat, Franklin ran a hand over his face, reddening it further before he finally said, “Do you have a few minutes to talk?”
“I’ve got more than a few. Can’t guarantee I’ll stay awake for all of them though. Come on in and get out of the heat.” Using my bare toes, I kicked the screen door open and invited Franklin into my abode. Thankfully, I’d learned my lesson from Momma and kept a tidy house. I didn’t dust on the regular, but it was picked up and looked halfway respectable.
“Would you like something to drink?” I asked, already heading to the kitchen.
“Some more of that tea if you’ve got it.”
I chuckled. “I’m the child of a true Southern woman. I’ve always got sweet tea on tap.” Pulling the pitcher out of the fridge, I got two glasses out, filled them with ice, and poured. Carrying the full glasses into the living room, I set Franklin’s in front of him on the same coffee table I’d had my toes propped on a few minutes ago.
I gave the man a minute to unbutton his suit jacket and drink a good two-thirds of his tea. Franklin had chosen the recliner while I plopped back down on the couch, pulling my legs up and tucking my feet under my ass.
After giving him some time to relax, I asked, “Has there been a break in Rebecca and Phineas’s cases?”
Franklin scrubbed his face and neck with his hand again. I’d learned it was a nervous gesture. “Sadly, no. Autopsy report on Noland came back the same as Mosley—heart failure.” Franklin’s disgusted grunt let me know exactly what he thought of that.
I took a sip of tea before I said, “I don’t have much to add either. I called my contacts in Virginia a few minutes before you rang the doorbell. I might have more late tonight or sometime tomorrow.” I shrugged. “I’m not certain. I suppose it depends on what they know or, more likely, what they don’t know. FYI, I spoke with Lucroy Moony and—”
“The Southeastern vampire king?”
“The one and only. If something vampiric happens with this case, he wants to know. It wasn’t really a request.”
Franklin sighed. “Vamps aren’t my favorite.”
“They’re not mine either, but Lucroy’s different. At least from what I know of him. Also, he claimed a nature pixie as his beloved. I think that gives him a few bonus points.”
“Bonus points?” Franklin’s right eyebrow rose heavenward.
“Not sure what else to call it. I think you’d have to see him and Peaches together to get it. Anyway, my point is, if anything should happen, I think it’s better having him in the loop than out of it. Lucroy seems genuinely concerned about those in his nest. I think he’d help if given the opportunity or option.” I didn’t think the same could be said for all vampire kings and queens.
Franklin twirled his nearly empty glass of tea. “Noted. And thank you for that information.”
By way of answer, I shrugged before I said, “If you’re not here because of Rebecca and Phineas, then why are you here?” Was it too much to hope Franklin simply stopped by to see me? Not because he needed me for anything, just simply because he wanted to spend time with me?
“It’s about Bartholomew Livingston.”
Evidently, it was too much to ask. I swallowed down my disappointment and asked, “What about good ol’ Bart?”
“I don’t think there’s much good about Bart Livingston,” Franklin corrected, setting down his glass on the coffee table. Scooting forward, Franklin rested his elbows on his knees and leaned toward me. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him appear so serious. “Listen, Boone. This Livingston fellow is bad news with a capital B. I had one of my colleagues do a little digging and what she found isn’t promising.” Franklin cringed.
“How bad is it?”
“Let’s just say this guy has his dirty fingers in a lot of nasty pies, and he’s in debt to the bakers.”
“Ouch.” I flinched, recoiling into my couch. “Doesn’t sound great.”
“No, it doesn’t. I’d tell you to get your dad to lean on him a little more, but I’m not certain how much that will help. Bart Livingston’s the kind of man that probably has his own magical persuasion stuffed in his back pocket, and if not his own, then he knows others who can call in a favor or two. I don’t like that you’re on this asshole’s radar. Maybe your dad was right. Maybe it is time to take a vacation to California.”
My shoulders snapped to attention. “You’re telling me to run away?”
“Retreat. Run away. Call it whatever you want. I just want you somewhere safe.”
“For how long?” I asked, anger creeping into all my crevices. “How long am I supposed to abandon my home, my life, my happiness for? How long do I let this jerk rule my life?”
This time, Franklin’s sigh was long and sounded like it came from the pit of his belly. “Boone, I know this is—”
“No, I don’t think you do,” I snapped stubbornly. “You’re asking me to abandon my life for Gaia only knows how long because some self-entitled criminal thinks I’ve done him wrong.”
Franklin spread his hands. “What do you want me to say?”
My mouth opened only to snap shut again. I looked around the room, my gaze landing on any and everything beyond the man sitting across from me. What did I want him to say? That he’d watch out for me? That he’d keep me safe? That he’d move in and stay with me until the danger had passed? All of that sounded whimsically tempting. All of it was utter bullshit. I was a grown-ass necromancer. I didn’t need anyone else to watch out for me. I didn’t need someone to keep me safe. I didn’t need… Well, maybe I didn’t need it, but I wouldn’t mind Franklin O’Hare parking his slippers under my bed for, I don’t know…ever.
When I remained silent, Franklin said, “If you won’t go to California, then maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea for your dad to come visit for a while. It’s one thing to know Warlock Nikodemus Holland is your father. It’s another to see it in action.”
The tension fled and I was left loose and noodle-like. “And how long is he supposed to stay?” I asked. Franklin started to say something, but I held up a hand to halt him. “I know what you’re trying to do, and on some level, I appreciate it. But whether I go to him or whether my father comes to me, it’s the same thing. How long? How long do we allow Bart to control our lives and dictate our actions?” I shook my head. “I’m not living my life like that, and I’ll be damned if I ask Pops to do it either. Maybe it’s foolish, but I’m not giving Bart that kind of satisfaction.”
“I told Becks that would be your answer.” Franklin’s twisted grin contradicted his annoyed tone.
“Yeah? Well, you should have listened to your gut and we could have avoided this whole unpleasant conversation.” I wasn’t sure why I was being so snarky. All I could say was that I didn’t like feeling threatened, and that I disliked Franklin thinking I was an easy mark even more.
“Noted,” Franklin answered. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind next time. With that said, keeping you safe is important, Erasmus.” My heart fluttered when he said my first name.
“Because my father will be pissed if something happens to me.”
“No. Because I will be devastated if something happens to you.”
My lips parted and I sucked in a gasp. I couldn’t muster a single word, not even when Franklin stood and closed the distance between us. Head tilted and gaze locked on his every movement, I nuzzled into the palm of his hand when he placed it on my cheek.
“Take care of yourself, Erasmus.”
Franklin’s calloused fingers slid across my skin as he pulled away and headed for the door. I was still sitting on the couch, heart racing and breath coming in stilted gasps, when I heard the creak of the screen door open and close. I needed to get up and lock the door, but it was another fifteen minutes before my legs felt strong enough to carry me the distance.
Sweet Gaia. What was I going to do with Detective Franklin O’Hare?