Chapter 29
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
Franklin
I stared at Boone’s latest text message. Was he insane or was he just that damn dedicated? I needed to buy a shock collar and place an invisible fence around his yard. With shaking fingers, I typed back, Your client will understand. Her uncle’s long dead, another day or two won’t make a difference. I hit the send button and prayed Boone would wise up and put his own health first. I contemplated calling his mother and getting her involved but didn’t. I wasn’t sure if Boone would forgive me later or not.
Tossing my phone on my desk, I sat down heavily while scrubbing my face with my hands. Christ, this was a clusterfuck. How in the hell had we missed this? How had Captain Cicely missed this? She was a witch. Witches could read magic on others. In her defense, the captain seemed more pissed off than me. She was angry enough at herself for the both of us. Maybe I didn’t know a lot about Captain Cicely’s private life, but from what I understood, she was a capable witch and if she hadn’t been able to tell that McCallister was something other than human, then I couldn’t get my boxers in a bunch. It’s not like I’d been any more help. Most departments didn’t have any other species beyond human on their payroll. We were lucky to have Captain Cicely.
While I sat there, contemplating my life choices and where’d they led me, my phone lit up with an incoming call.
“Hey, Becks,” I answered. “Did you get home okay?”
“Yeah. No issues. Did you find anything out?” I didn’t have to ask her to elaborate.
“No. He wasn’t in his office,” I answered. “Captain Cicely is looking into things as we speak.”
“Oh, I…I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. I’m worried.” Becks sounded worried. She also sounded distracted. I didn’t have to wait long to find out why. “Listen, O’Hare. With everything that happened, it kind of slipped my mind, but while I was on my way home, I remembered something. I shouldn’t have done it, but you know I like to help out when I can and at the time I didn’t see anything wrong with it, but now I’m kind of wondering. I mean, it’s probably nothing, but—”
“Becks,” I cut off her nervous verbal meandering, “what’s on your mind?”
She blew out a breath. “Yesterday, Dr. McCallister stopped by my desk and asked me to look up the contact information for someone. He said it had to do with a notification, but there was something about the way he asked that didn’t sit right with me. I mean, he’s done it maybe a handful of times, but it’s rare, and considering what we think might be going on, I was just worried that maybe I placed someone else in danger.”
I grabbed a nearby piece of paper and pen and said, “Do you remember the name?”
“Tina Waylon,” Becks answered.
“Waylon, Waylon…” I mulled on that. The name sounded familiar but I wasn’t sure where I’d heard it. Tapping my pen on the table, I said, “Thanks, Becks. I’ll look into it. Try and relax and Captain Cicely and I will take it from here.”
“Okay.” Relief flooded that one word. “I’ll call if I happen to think of anything else.”
“Thanks, Becks,” I answered before hitting the end button.
Tina Waylon’s name repeated through my head and I desperately attempted to attach another memory to it. Failing miserably, I pulled up Boone’s last text thread to see if he’d written anything back yet. There was nothing there, but an information bubble further up caught my eye. It was Boone’s client schedule. He’d sent it to me yesterday morning and that triggered something.
My hands felt clammy as I scrolled up the message thread, highlighting the one I needed. And there it was, the name that seemed so familiar and yet I couldn’t place. Tina Waylon, Boone’s client. The very same client he was with right now. The same client that Dr. McCallister had asked Becks to look up.
Standing, my chair slid out from under me, slamming into the wall. “Son of a bitch,” I growled and immediately brought up Boone’s number and hit send. “Come on… Come on… Answer the damn phone.”
He didn’t, and my call went to voicemail. I left a curt “call me ASAP” as my message before heading to Captain Cicely’s office. We had a problem. We had a very big problem.
I ’d never felt this much anxiety waiting in an airport. I couldn’t stop pacing. I felt like I might vomit any second, and it wasn’t because I was getting ready to meet Boone’s father for the first time, or that Nikodemus Holland could make my life excruciating with barely a hint of effort.
I only wished my nausea was due to those thoughts. Instead, my unease circled a singular source—Boone. He was MIA. Boone wasn’t at his house. He wasn’t with his momma, and he wasn’t with his client. Tina Waylon confirmed she’d been contacted by Boone and told that he wouldn’t be able to make their appointment, which flew in opposition to the text I’d gotten from him stating he was already there.
And then there was Boone’s car. I could only assume he’d contacted a ride share and picked his car up at the station and then driven it out to Bridger Highlands Cemetery. I’d found it tucked back along a winding road, close to Tina Waylon’s uncle’s gravesite. Boone was nowhere to be found. I’d checked the tent and surrounding area. What I had found was enough to make my heart pound and my head want to explode.
Sleeping dust.
My lips twisted in disgust. The stuff was generally illegal and only permitted for medicinal purposes. Of course, it was abused, just like any other drug out there. It seemed harmless enough, but it wasn’t. Just a bit of the magenta-colored dust knocked out nearly each and every species within a matter of seconds. The very idea of it screamed abuse.
Boone was gone. I could only assume he’d been taken. Captain Cicely and I’d repeatedly tried contacting Dr. McCallister, but to no avail. The implication was clear.
I stared down at the communication charm in my hand. It had lit up like a blaring neon sign while on my way to the airport. While I’d been frightened it was activated, at least that meant Boone was still alive. He’d told me he had to be alive to activate it. I clung to that thin thread of thought, using it to weave a barrier against the dark images threatening to consume me.
Current regulations didn’t allow me to be right at the exit for Holland’s flight, but I set up post at the next best location. I didn’t think I’d have trouble identifying him. When I saw the tall figure with broad shoulders and jet-black hair heavily painted with gray at the temples, I knew I had my warlock.
I’d sent him a text, letting him know I’d be there to pick him up. Since I wasn’t sure he knew what I looked like, I held up Boone’s glowing communication charm. Holland’s intense black eyes zeroed in on the charm and he strode through the throng of passengers on his way to me.
I wasn’t short—I was taller than the average human male. But Nikodemus Holland dwarfed me. He’d perfected the art of looming, and made me feel like an insect pinned to a board.
“Where is he?” Holland said by way of greeting.
I swallowed but held my ground and answered honestly. “I have no idea.” Anger flushed Holland’s cheeks and I hastened to add, “You can be pissed with me all you like, but I guarantee you nothing you can say or do will match the shit I’ve already told myself. Now, we can either stand here being shitty with each other, or I can tell you what I know, and we can work together to get Boone back.”
I stood there, chest heaving and wondering if I’d just signed my own death warrant. I thought the idea crossed Holland’s mind but, in the end, he stood down and said, “I assume you have transportation.”
“You assume correctly. Do we need to stop to get your bags?”
“I only brought the carry-on,” he answered, matching my stride. “You are obviously aware Erasmus activated his communication charm.”
I didn’t bother answering and instead said, “He’s been missing for approximately six hours. The charm just activated about thirty minutes ago.”
“Six hours? Curious. Why wait so long?”
With a deep inhale, I launched into what I knew of Boone’s timeline, finishing with the sleeping dust I’d found and speculating that could be the answer to Boone’s delayed SOS. Holland’s fingers clenched, their blackened tips stark against his otherwise pallid skin.
“This McCallister will pay,” Holland said, slamming the passenger door before he reached under his seat and adjusted the seat as far back as it could go.
I sincerely hoped so and said as much. I also tempered it with my concern. “We don’t know what McCallister is capable of.”
Holland scoffed. “He is a necromancer. His abilities are nothing compared to mine. When I reach Erasmus’s home, I will be able to scry his whereabouts. It will be a simple matter of finding him, infiltrating the hole this McCallister has crawled into, and killing him. If he has injured my son, then his death will be most unpleasant.”
“Erasmus doesn’t want that,” a feminine, yet flat voice said.
My hands jerked, taking the car with me and earning half a dozen honks on the interstate. God only knew how we didn’t wind up in an accident.
“Christ, Aurelia.” My heart fluttered and my adrenaline spiked. “We need to work on your timing, and your understanding that it is a very bad idea to simply show up out of fucking nowhere when a human is driving.”
“Aurelia? Djinn.” That last word came out a garbled mess as Holland twisted in his seat and stared into the back of my SUV.
“Warlock,” Aurelia answered in kind. She didn’t sound the least bit flustered or intimidated.
I glanced into the review mirror, eyes connecting with Aurelia’s. “You’ve seen Boone?” I asked hopefully.
“He does not wish you to come,” she said, turning her attention to Holland. “I agreed to pass along that message and that is all.”
I was afraid she was about to leave and begged, “Is there anything else? Why doesn’t he want his father to come for him?” Boone had said that Aurelia could be cryptic and didn’t often see the necessity of descriptive conversations.
“You will tell us what we need to know,” Holland demanded angrily.
Aurelia’s lips pulled back, showing glimmering white teeth. “I am not required to tell you anything, warlock. My choices are my own.” Pride shimmered through those final words.
“Then your master is foolish,” Holland argued. I wasn’t completely certain I disagreed, but now certainly wasn’t the time.
While Boone had more experience with Aurelia, I’d paid attention to their interactions as well as my own. The situation needed an ice-cold bucket of water thrown on it. “Thank you for agreeing to pass along Boone’s message, Aurelia,” I said, ignoring Holland’s disapproving growl. “Is there anything else you would be willing to share?”
I prayed that Holland would keep his arrogant mouth shut, and for once, he did. Aurelia contemplated my question quietly and came to a decision. “The necromancer is bait. His captor desires the warlock.” Aurelia pointed at Holland. “I am uncertain how, but this individual is capable of interesting things. I have not encountered his like before and his abilities concern both me and Erasmus.”
That might have been the longest sentence I’d ever heard Aurelia speak. I shot a harried glance Holland’s direction. “McCallister wants Boone’s father?”
“That is what I said.”
My brow furrowed and I asked, “Why?”
“I am not fully certain.”
Holland’s growl was deeper and increasingly vicious.
“Thank you, Aurelia. You’ve been very helpful. I don’t suppose you know where Boone is?” Holland said he could scry for Boone’s location, but if we could save a step or two, then I was all for it. I wanted Boone back, and I wanted him back now.
“He is underground,” she answered.
“Underground where?”
She held up a hand and motioned to the west. “That direction.”
If Boone’s life hadn’t been on the line, I might find this amusing. “Anything more specific?”
“No. I am unaware how to describe it so you will understand.” Before I could answer, Aurelia looked to Holland and said, “I informed Erasmus you would not listen and would come anyway. Choice is important, and this one is yours.”
Within one blink and the next, Aurelia was gone.
My hands gripped the steering wheel, white knuckles gleaming in the fading sun. Silence filled the vehicle until I finally said, “So, that was Aurelia.”
Holland looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. Perhaps he didn’t appreciate the casual way I spoke of an all-powerful being.
Eyebrows pinched, Holland asked, “Is she always so cryptic?”
“According to Boone, yeah. Although I get the feeling she doesn’t mean to be. I think it’s just hard for her to talk to us mere mortals.”
Holland settled back into his seat, eyes staring straight ahead and shoulders squared but relaxed.
“So, I assume you’re not going to listen to Boone’s warning.”
“I will listen to it, but that will not stop me from going to my son.”
“Yeah, I figured. You also know I’m going with you, right?”
“I would be disappointed if you did not, Detective O’Hare. And I believe we can both agree that disappointing me is not a good life choice.”
Nervous laughter erupted like a volcano trapped within my chest. The situation wasn’t funny, not by a long shot. But it was either laugh or cry, and I refused to shed a tear in front of Boone’s father.
“I got that impression,” I answered when my inappropriate laughter had finally subsided.
“My son implied you were intelligent. I have had my doubts, but perhaps I should give Erasmus’s opinion more weight. My son is generally an excellent judge of character. It is a trait I am certain he inherited from me.”
Dear God, the ego on this warlock . “Yeah,” I managed. “Sounds about right.”
The rest of the trip to Boone’s house was made in silence. Assuming Boone came out of this in one piece, I just might murder him myself for sticking me in this situation. Alone, in a vehicle with his father, part of that ride taken with a cryptic djinn sitting in the back seat. Yeah, Boone owed me, and I was going to make damned sure he survived to pay me back.