Page 61 of Deadly Lineage
“Hurt you? How? They are words with no magical signature behind them. They are not spells that will activate when the word is spoken or looked at. They are nothing more than writing. I do not see the chance of injury.”
As powerful as she was, sometimes Aurelia was terribly naïve. “Sometimes, words hurt more than a physical blow. Words have power all on their own—they don’t need magic behind them to cause harm.” I wasn’t sure how else to explain it.
Pointing at the sidewalk, particularly at the wordabomination, Aurelia asked, “This damages you?”
I shrugged and answered honestly. “It does. Not that I’ll ever admit that to the asshole who did this.”
Dropping her hand, Aurelia stared at the words a beat longer before they simply disappeared. I stared, blinking to clear the dryness from my eyes. “Did you just—”
“It was simple enough and it was something I wished to do,” Aurelia answered with pride. “Such a petty gesture should not cause aggravation. It is also a defilement of the natural beauty already here.”
I wasn’t sure tagging a sidewalk constituted defiling Mother Nature, but I wasn’t about to complain.
“Thank you.” Those two words came out far more choked than I wanted. The sidewalk looked exactly as it had before. If the jackass who did this was still around, they had to be shitting their pants by now. Necromancers couldn’t do what Aurelia just did. Witches, warlocks, fairies, and most likely brownies could, but not little old me.
“It is of no consequence. As I said, it is something I wished to do. You did not force me.”
“No,” I answered easily. “I don’t hold your amphora. Even if I did, I don’t think I would have wished you to do that. Or, at least, I hope not.” Power was a damnable thing. It was far too easy to abuse. Would I be as magnanimous of a master as Peaches? If I were being honest with myself, the answer was no. The temptation was too great. I’d probably hate myself a little for it, but I’d find justifiable reasons to makerequestsof Aurelia.
I was glad I’d thought to record the area before Aurelia erased its presence. I considered forwarding the images to Franklin, but thought better of it. He had more important things on his plate than run-of-the-mill bigotry.
“He will want to know,” Aurelia said, seemingly reading my mind. “Mates always do.”
“Yeah, I know.” I purposefully ignored Aurelia’s use of the termmate. “I’ll tell him, but maybe not right now. We had a good day today.” Despite the murderous circumstances, it was better than good. Franklin and I had had lunch, picked up my car, and explored a victim’s home. It wasn’t what typical first dates were made of, but we weren’t a typical burgeoning couple either. The hot-as-fuck kisses hadn’t hurt either.
I had another thought and said, “Can you maybe not mention this to Peaches?” I wasn’t sure why, but I didn’trelish the thought of that group knowing this happened. It was embarrassing.
“I do not see why he would care, nor do I find it interesting enough to mention.” And then she was gone, leaving me standing alone, staring at my wonderfully blank sidewalk, wondering what shitty words someone would decide to replace them with later.
“I need a video camera,” I decided. I’d always thought Pops’s wards were enough, but maybe it was time to give human tech a chance. Glancing towards Mrs. Hart’s house, I noted the time and didn’t hold out much hope she’d seen anything. I knew when her favorite TV shows were on. Mrs. Hart often fell asleep watching them, Miss Pattycakes napping right alongside her.
Blowing out a disheartened sigh, I headed back to the house. Pops’s wards washed over me as soon as I stepped foot on my property, wrapping around me like a familiar blanket. I sent him a silent thank you while stuffing my hands into my pockets, fingering my ring of charms. Tears were a near thing, but they were kept at bay by my irritation and the memory of Momma’s powerful words.
Yes, I was a necromancer, but that didn’t make me an abomination worthy of death. I was wanted. I was loved. All the spray paint in the world couldn’t cover that fact. Whoever wrote those toxic words could take their can of paint and shove it up their ass. Hopefully, it would hurt like hell.
Iwas trawling the internet, comparing different security camera options, when Franklin texted, asking if it was okay if he came over. Myof courseresponse was automatic and he arrived less than thirty minutes later, pizza and soda in hand.
“Handsome men bearing gifts of food,” I said by way of greeting, the screen door manifesting its typical complaint at being used.
“I took a chance on what you might like,” Franklin said, his cheeks dusted pink. I wasn’t sure if that was due to the sweltering weather combined with his long-sleeved jacket, or if he was embarrassed.
Ushering him inside, I said, “I’m good with just about any type of pizza. Set it down on the table and take your damn jacket off. Six years you’ve been in this state. I’m surprised you haven’t suffered heat stroke by now.”
I rummaged around in a cabinet, pulling out glasses while listening to the rustle of Franklin shedding a layer of clothes. I nearly dropped one of the glasses when I turned around and saw him loosening his tie. Sweet Gaia, Franklin was built. It wasn’t the body of a gym bunny—it was better than that. Franklin told me he worked out because he needed to keep in shape for his job. Franklin said you never knew when you might need to run down a suspect. I didn’t like the reasons behind his lovely physique, but I did like the consequences.
“Long day?” I asked casually while opening another cabinet and pulling out the paper plates. We’d spent a good portion of the day together, but as far as I knew, Franklin had been at the precinct for a good five-plus hours since dropping me off at my car.
“I’ve had longer,” Franklin answered, which didn’t exactly make me smile.
“Sit down and take a load off.”
Franklin did just that, scrubbing his hands over his face and releasing a deep sigh. “I dropped Remington’s computer off with Becks. She’s got a special kind of knack for that sort of thing. Unfortunately, that means she’s everyone’s go-to computer guru. Becks is a little backed up. She said she’ll makeRemington’s computer a priority considering this is most likely a serial killer. Captain Cicely helped when she told Becks this is a priority.”
“Good for the captain,” I answered. Although I didn’t know her well, Captain Cicely had always treated me professionally, and not like the shit on her shoe.
“Yeah,” Franklin more wheezed than said.
I set the paper plates, a couple paper towels and two glasses full of ice on the table. Franklin cracked the seal on the soda, releasing a bubbly, delightfulhissinto the air. The pizza was half cheese and half meat lover’s. I took a slice of each, and Franklin dug into the meat lover’s side. I waited for him to eat at least two pieces and refill his glass before peppering him with more questions.
