Page 11 of Deadly Lineage
Considering Boone’s casual dress, I took him up on the offer, slipping out of my jacket none too gracefully. The humiditydidn’t make it much cooler without the jacket, but the overhead fan helped.
There was room on the swing. I didn’t take the available seat. Instead, I leaned heavily on the railing. Thankfully, it was strong and in good repair. Boone’s carefully masked expression didn’t tell me if he was offended or not. My choice of seat wasn’t meant to be offensive or to hint I was uncomfortable being close to him. I simply liked looking people in the eyes when having a conversation. And Boone’s eyes were particularly interesting to look into. I didn’t want to waste an opportunity by sitting next to him.
“Thanks for the drink,” I offered, holding up my nearly-empty glass.
“There’s more where that came from.”
I tilted my glass and nodded. “I just might take you up on that.”
Boone relaxed, if only marginally.
We stayed like that for a few precious seconds before I said, “I owe you an apology.” I’d been itching to say those words all day. They crowded my head and wouldn’t let anything else in. They needed to be set free.
“For what?” Boone appeared genuinely confused. His head tilted to the side, his shaggy, damp hair flopping over his forehead. I wanted to reach out and run my fingers through that tumble, pushing it off his face. His eyes were still beautifully visible. They were the perfect shade of green. Their deep glow was a memory I held against all the ugly the world constantly threw in my face.
“For the way I reacted earlier.” I inhaled, setting my nearly-empty glass on the railing. “I made you uncomfortable. Or maybe I seemed uncomfortable, which put you on edge.” I shrugged. “I’m not sure which, only that I reacted badly.”
Instead of appearing relieved, Boone’s smile was wistfully sad. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. It wasn’t anything I didn’t expect. It—”
“Dammit, that’s the point. You shouldn’t have to expect that kind of a reaction, especially from me. I was tired, Boone. I know that’s not much of an excuse, but I was tired, worn thin, and hellishly surprised. Fuck, I can still hear Rebecca’s screams.” I ran my fingers through my hair. It was a lot shorter than Boone’s. Cut close to the scalp, I had just enough strawberry-blond hair with deeper ginger hints to color the top of my head. “It was disturbing.”
Boone’s eyebrows shot up, and the first hint of his typical grin slid across his face. “It was that. If it helps, I can still hear her screams too.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know that it does.” I didn’t like the thought of Boone hurting.
“I know. I just wanted to let you know that you weren’t the only one still affected. I’ll bet everyone who was there early this morning is having trouble sleeping.”
Boone was right. I should probably bring that up with the captain. The precinct had therapists who could be utilized.
Boone’s gaze drifted toward the street. A couple of kids rode their bikes past. The sidewalk was old and cracked in places, giant oaks spreading their limbs above and roots below.
“I can’t get the feel of her soul off me.” Boone’s voice drifted, so soft I had to lean forward to hear it. “It was just so…wrong. It physically hurt. I wish”—he visibly swallowed—“I wish I could have done something to help her. But that’s not how my abilities work.” Placing both feet on the porch flooring, Boone spread his hands, palms up as he stared at them. “I’m not a warlock, but I’m the product of one. I can’t create. I can only destroy.” His hands fisted, knuckles white.
Unknowingly, Boone had led me into the conversation I’d come for. “That’s what Captain Cicely said—not about necromancers’ abilities, but about warlocks and witches. I asked if shredding a soul is something a witch could do. She told me it’s not, but that perhaps a warlock could.”
Boone tilted his head while he thought. “I’m not sure. I can tell you that witches—or, at least, witches centuries ago—could remove a soul from a body.”
My inhale whistled through my clenched teeth. “Fucking hell.”
He glanced at me. “I don’t think that’s common knowledge. My guess is that your captain doesn’t even know. I wouldn’t know if I hadn’t met a djinn.”
Blood drained from my face. I was glad the porch railing was there to support my weight. “A djinn? They’re myth. Or at least they don’t exist any longer.”
Boone’s callous chuckle didn’t soothe my nerves. “Oh no, Detective, I assure you, they’re more than myth. You’ve actually been in the presence of one recently.”
“W-what?” Now my limbs were shaking.
“Mm-hmm. This very morning. Although to be fair, Aurelia split pretty soon after you arrived. It’s a move she’s regretting now.” Boone sounded half exasperated.
“Aurelia?” My voice was fragile, as if it might shatter while leaving my lips.
“She’s a djinn. Although I don’t think a very dangerous one, as far as djinn are concerned. The jury’s still out on that one. She seems enamored with me recently. I’m not sure why, but she keeps popping up here and there. Of course, she’s not here now, and even if she were, you wouldn’t see her unless she wanted you to. Aurelia’s ornery enough she might just decide to remain hidden for shits and giggles.”
“Christ,” I muttered. “You’re not messing with me, are you?”
“Ha! You wish.” Boone gave me a flirty wink. “Get it,you wish.”
Oh, I got it. “Are you her”—I waved a hand in the air, hating the word but finding no other—“master?”
