Chapter 26
Chapter
Twenty-Six
Erasmus
Oh, Dr. McCallister sounded pissed. My head pounded and my limbs were shaky. Dr. McCallister’s obvious anger didn’t do either any favors. What it did do was stop Franklin from doing something stupid like defending my necromancer honor. Not that I didn’t appreciate the effort, but Franklin getting in trouble wouldn’t help matters.
Dr. McCallister stomped into the room, nostrils flaring and eyes narrowed. “Someone explain this to me right now.” He pointed toward Bart’s body. “I just got a panicked call from my intern telling me you were desecrating Mr. Livingston’s body. I thought he was being dramatic, but now that I see the condition of the body, I’m inclined to believe him.”
“I think Bart’s body was already desecrated,” I mumbled while remembering the horrid feel of his tattered soul. The memory made me shiver violently. Franklin’s palm landed on my shoulder, grounding me as I snuggled into his jacket, burying my nose in the collar and inhaling his soothing sent.
McCallister’s head snapped my direction, eyes narrowed even further. I’d spoken low enough that I doubted even Franklin had heard me. Evidently McCallister’s ears were sharper.
Pushing his shoulders back, McCallister slammed his index finger into the bridge of his nose. There were no glasses to readjust. “Everyone out,” he ordered.
“Dr. McCallister—”
“No, Captain Cicely. This is my morgue and my domain. I have the ultimate authority within these walls and if you wish to avoid an official complaint, I suggest you leave. Immediately.” McCallister’s strides were long and confident as he walked toward the corpse, snatching the sheet off the floor and tossing it over the body, covering Bart’s contorted figure.
I glanced at Franklin. While my eyebrows were raised, his were pinched.
No one moved. With a heavy sigh, I pushed my body out of the chair and said, “Sorry to disturb your workspace, Dr. McCallister.” I patted Franklin on his shoulder and said, “You think you can give me a ride home? If not, I can call Momma.”
Franklin’s attention immediately snapped my direction. His eyes softened and his facial muscles eased. “Let me see what I can do.”
I walked toward the door, Franklin’s hand on my elbow assured he followed. Thankfully, Captain Cicely and Detective Harrison followed suit. Soon enough we were outside the door to the morgue and safely beyond McCallister’s ire.
“My car’s in the visitor’s lot,” I said to no one in particular.
“That’s fine,” Captain Cicely answered. “I’ll let security know. It won’t hurt anything to stay there for a day or two. O’Hare can drive you home.”
“Thank you.” I stared down the hall, wondering if it had grown in length since I’d arrived. The long, linoleum floor seemed to go on forever, and my body was so damn tired. The candy helped, but it wasn’t enough. I needed to eat, sleep, eat again, and sleep for about three days—maybe four.
“Boone, I’m—”
“It’s okay,” I interrupted Captain Cicely, much like McCallister had just done. “I’m not upset. Well, I am, but I’ll get over it and I understand. I’d make the same decision if I were in your shoes.” Franklin grunted and I slapped his arm. “Don’t give her shit. You know she doesn’t have any other choice.”
Franklin mumbled something under his breath, and I chose to assume it was agreement. The farther we walked, the more I leaned against Franklin. By the time we got to his car, the man would be carrying me. Gaia, I’d been so against Pops flying to Mississippi. I had to admit that now I was relieved. Did that make me little more than a child, wishing for his father to save him from the monster in the closet? Maybe. Regardless, I was pretty much past caring at this point.
The suffocating humidity slammed into my lungs, making it difficult to breathe. That didn’t matter. The air was fresh, not recycled and cold. My limbs felt like ice and weighed just about as much. I could only hope my hometown heat would warm me.
“ I t is very small,” Aurelia said as she held Pops’s communication charm toward the ceiling. The tiny, aquamarine glint of crystal shimmered in the evening sunlight. The box of charms had been waiting on my front porch when Franklin had dragged my exhausted ass home earlier.
“Generally speaking, they don’t have to be large.”
“Hmm, if it were witch-made, I would not agree to such a thing.” Aurelia lowered her arm and the charm dangled from its leather cord. Pops had fashioned it into a bracelet. Aurelia promptly bent over and tied it around her ankle. She was slender enough and the cord long enough for it to work. I didn’t really care where she wore it. I was simply surprised she’d agreed.
“What will it do when activated?” she asked.
“A lot of things. Light up, jiggle, get hot—basically anything to get your attention.”
“And you will have the trigger?”
I held up my own charm. Pops had made mine with a longer string, one that went around my neck in a loose choker.
Aurelia cocked her head to the side, studying the stone. “It is a tracking mechanism too?”
I shrugged. “For some. Pops can scry for it. Franklin can’t. I’m not really sure about you.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “I do not need that to locate you.”
I blinked while contemplating those words. “No. I suppose you don’t.” Aurelia always found me—charm or no. The problem was we couldn’t contact or find her . At least, not all the time. If she wasn’t with me, then there was a good chance she was at Peaches’s orchard, but that wasn’t a guarantee. Peaches could always wish for her presence, but there was no guarantee we’d be able to reach Peaches in case of emergency. The pixie didn’t always have his phone on him. As long as Aurelia was willing, this was the best option. And amazingly enough, she appeared very willing.
Twisting her foot, Aurelia stared down at the charm. It posed an interesting contrast to her scuffed army boots.
“Janus would call me a fool,” Aurelia mused.
“Does that bother you?” I asked. I hadn’t gotten the impression that Aurelia was overly fond of Janus, but perhaps there had been something deeper there.
“No. Janus is dead and I am not. I believe we know who the fool was.”
I couldn’t argue the point. “Thanks for doing this,” I said instead. “You didn’t have to.”
“I know.” Pleasure sang through those two words. “It was my choice.” Pride replaced that pleasure. I wasn’t always certain Peaches made the correct decision with Aurelia, but seeing her like this, it was hard to argue with the pixie’s methods.
“Let’s hope I don’t have to use it.” With Bart Livingston dead, the chances seemed slimmer.
I yawned, flopping onto the couch and letting my head rest along the back. My ceiling looked the same as it had the last time I was in this position. Good to know nothing had changed with it in the last twenty-four hours.
Aurelia didn’t sit beside me. She stood a few feet away. “You do not appear well. Your human body is too fragile to continue your current activities.” Aurelia didn’t sound concerned…exactly.
“No argument here,” I agreed easily before blowing out a frustrated breath. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about it much, though. I’ve been kicked off the case.”
Far from upset, Aurelia was only mildly curious. “I do not understand.”
And so I explained it to her. I reiterated that I didn’t blame Captain Cicely. Thinking back on things, I was surprised she hadn’t kicked me off sooner. While I knew I hadn’t done those things, she only had my word and the alibis I’m sure she’d be asking for soon enough. I’d already started mentally going through the last few weeks, reviewing my schedule and retracing my movements. I wanted to be ready when I was asked.
“Franklin was pissed,” I said when finished.
“That is to be expected. You are his mate.”
Aurelia liked using that word when she referred to my relationship with Franklin.
I scratched my cheek while still staring at the ceiling. “I’m not sure that’s the term I would use.”
“It is the term that fits best,” Aurelia confidently argued before she changed the subject so fast my head spun. “When is your father expected?”
It took me a minute to change gears before I answered, “Tomorrow evening. I offered to pick him up at the airport, but he told me he doesn’t want me leaving the house—or more importantly, the wards—any more than necessary. He’s going to rent a car.”
“I will meet this father of yours.”
My head snapped up. Aurelia’s Caribbean-blue eyes glowed, along with half a dozen tattoos. “Aurelia,” I cautioned. “Why do you sound so eager?” The first niggle of fear wound its way through my core.
“He is your maker, and a capable warlock. Vander says your father is an ass, but he also speaks respectfully when discussing Nikodemus Holland’s abilities. Warlocks are interesting. They are not witches.” As usual, when Aurelia said the word witch it was filled with as much derision as possible. I wasn’t sure if she’d ever get over her hatred and prejudice. I didn’t think it was my place to judge.
Clearing my throat, I said, “You’ll be nice. Right?”
Aurelia’s grin was far from comforting. “I am always nice .”
Before I could respond, she disappeared from the living room, leaving me sitting alone on my couch, scrubbing my face and wishing my body was recovered enough for something stronger than iced tea.
“Gaia, I need a drink.”
My head landed back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling again. My eyes were drifting when my phone dinged with a reminder alert. With a heavy arm, I lifted my phone and swiped until I pulled up my calendar. Grumbled curses lit the air. I had an appointment tomorrow. Nothing major—or at least it wouldn’t be anything major on any other day of the fucking year. As contracts went, this was an easy one.
If I remembered the details correctly, Tina Waylon’s uncle had passed more than two decades ago. He’d been an avid baseball card collector as a child. That collection had passed to Tina but there was a card missing—a Mickey Mantle original. Tina wanted to know where it was and contracted me to bring her uncle’s soul back so she could find out. If successful, the money she’d get from selling the card would more than pay my fee.
I dropped my phone to the floor while contemplating the job. I hated canceling and this one should be easy enough. Tina had already arranged for her uncle’s body to be exhumed. The casket lid would be open and all I’d have to do was call his soul back, ask him about the Mickey Mantle card, and release him. No muss, no fuss.
I’d see how I felt in the morning. I’d also have to get my car back somehow, either that or take a ride share. Maybe I could get a ride share to pick up my car at the police station and go from there. I could always ask Franklin to swing by and drop me at my car, but then I’d have to explain why I needed it so soon, and I didn’t fancy getting scolded. Ditto for Momma. She’d take one look at me and lock me in my room.
No, looked like a ride share was on the docket. I’d pop a frozen pizza in the oven, eat the whole damn thing, go to bed, and get up in time to do the job. I’d be back home before Pops’s flight landed. No one would have to know.