Page 103 of Deadly Lineage
Pops chuckled, low and deep. “Oh, he paid. Trust me, little witch. He paid dearly.”
I stepped back while Franklin moved forward. Rebecca took the time to answer their questions. While that was going on, I took the opportunity to partake in the sugar-laden smorgasbord Franklin had set up earlier. Pops scooted closer as I sucked on a piece of hard candy.
“He’s not terrible, for a human,” Pops begrudgingly admitted.
I smiled. “He’s not terrible in the least—human or not.”
Pops grunted. “He’s terribly fragile, more so than you. I worry.”
“I worry too, but I can’t allow that worry to interfere with living. Worry too much and you forget to enjoy what you have and the time you’ve got it.” I finished my candy and gave Pops my full attention. “I hate what loving me will cost you, Pops. The grief of knowing that—”
“Hush, Erasmus. None of that.” Pops cupped my chin within his large hands. “As you said, we need to cherish the time we have. I refuse to grieve a loss that hasn’t happened yet. There will time enough for that later. Gaia blessed me with you, and I am not so foolish as to disrespect her will. Not a day has gone by that I have not been grateful for your birth, and not a day will pass in the future where I do not feel the same.”
My eyes watered and my body felt noodle-limp. “I love you, Pops.”
“I love you too.” Dropping my face, Pops took a step back and gave a nod in Franklin’s direction. “I think they’re about done with the witch.”
Not a minute later, Franklin called me over. Rebecca had given them all she could. It was time to give her peace. “Rebecca Ann Mosely, I release you. Go in peace.”
The smile faded from Rebecca’s face as her corpse fell back on the gurney gracelessly. Rebecca was gone. It was time to move on to Phineas.
“You ready for the next one?” Franklin asked.
“More than ready.”
The following hour passed quickly. I repaired Phineas and Linus’s souls the same way as Rebecca’s. By the time we were done, they’d been laid to rest. There was no helping Bart Livingston’s soul. McCallister hadn’t taken anything from it, he’d simply destroyed it so when found, Bart couldn’t point the finger McCallister’s direction.
It was a good day. A tiring day, but productive.
Each species reacted differently to necromancers. Some were outright hostile. Some thought we were abominations of nature. All were wary. But I didn’t care about the masses. I cared about the individuals closer to home. I was a necromancer and I’d just done something that no other soul could possibly do. I’d given three victims peace. I’d repaired what was stolen and sent them on their way to their eternal slumber. I’d taken away their pain as no other could. All in all, it was a good day’s work. Not all days were like this, and like I’d told Pops, I planned on savoring all the good I could. The bad would inevitably find its way back in, and I’d deal with it then. There was no need to hasten its arrival.
Epilogue
Franklin
“Would you like some more tea, dear?” Lydia Boone asked casually. I got the feeling the woman had a kegerator full of sweet tea hidden in Boone’s home somewhere.
“Thank you, ma’am,” I answered while holding out my glass, allowing her to top me off generously.
Lydia Boone seemed impervious to the Mississippi heat. The woman exuded casual elegance in her fitted shorts and breezy pink top. Hair swept up on top of her head, Lydia wore a pink and white scarf draped around her neck.
My gaze roamed the surrounding area as I sipped my tea. I’d ordered video surveillance camaras and took the moment to contemplate the best locations to mount them. Bart Livingston was dead, and, while it looked like he was most likely behind the attempted break-in and following Boone on the interstate, it wasn’t a sure bet. There was also the issue with the graffiti on Boone’s sidewalk. If Bart’s soul hadn’t been completely destroyed, Boone could bring him back and force him to answer. That not being the case, the added surveillance was warranted. Or, at least, it eased my mind.
We were currently sitting alone on Boone’s front porch. I sat on the swing while Lydia took up residence in a nearby lounge chair. The silence was comfortable and interrupted by Boone and Holland’s light bickering. Oh, and Miss Pattycakes’s furious tirade when Warlock Nikodemus Holland dared walk to the edge of her fenced-in yard. Not gonna lie, I chuckled a few times when I heard Holland’s attempts to soothe Mrs. Hart’s dog.
“The diminutive creature is more discerning than most,” Aurelia said when Miss Pattycakes let loose another round of irate yips. She’d arrived a few minutes ago and this was the first I’d heard her speak.
“No argument here,” I said by way of a toast.
“Aurelia, would you like some tea?” Lydia Boone asked, completely unfazed by Aurelia’s appearance. To my knowledge, she’d only met Aurelia two days ago, but had taken to her instantly. When I’d asked Ms. Boone about it, she’d simply said, “Aurelia is what she is and will do as she wills. Being nice never hurt anyone, and djinn or not, I don’t think she’s had enoughnicethrown her way.”
I didn’t think Ms. Boone was wrong and couldn’t fault her logic.
Aurelia sniffed at the contents of her glass before taking a sip. Her face scrunched up in distaste and she set the glass back down but didn’t comment.
“You can’t just ward Mrs. Hart, Pops. She’d be devastated if something happened to Miss Pattycakes.” Boone sounded conflicted between being incensed and laughing his ass off.
“That dog is a menace,” Holland growled, his tone much deeper than Miss Pattycakes’s.
