Page 12 of Deadly Lineage
“Oh no. That’s not me.” Boone pushed against the floor, setting a lazy pace with the swing. “It’s not as bad as it all seems. I know others find it difficult trusting necromancers, but you’ll just have to have a little faith and go with this one.”
The words, “I trust you” spilled from my mouth. I didn’t regret saying them, not when Boone’s surprised expression morphed into satisfied ease.
“Okay. I believe you.”
Those few words shouldn’t have warmed me as much as they did. Thoughts of an active djinn cooled my joy. “Could this djinn do that? Tear a soul to shreds?”
Boone’s deep-green eyes blinked, and his mouth slanted open. “I don’t know. I feel confident saying it wasn’t Aurelia, but she’s not the only djinn out there. I think the chances of it being a djinn are extremely low, but I suppose I can’t count it out completely. I can ask Aurelia the next time she pops up.”
“That would be appreciated.” Christ, was I really having this conversation? Was Erasmus Boone really acquainted with a djinn? I said I trusted the man and meant it.
Clearing my throat, I asked, “And what about another necromancer? You said you would be able to tear apart a soul.”
Boone stopped swinging and his eyes became distant again. “I hate to sound like a broken record, but I’m not sure. All of us are different. I’d say it’s completely possible, although if there is another necromancer out there with my abilities, I don’t know him.”
“Fair enough. What about a warlock?”
Boone twisted, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t think so. Not like what I can do anyway. I’ve never asked Pops directly, but heknows what I can do and never mentioned it being something warlocks are capable of. I can call him if you’d like.”
“Do you mind?” I really needed that information, but I didn’t like the idea of asking Boone to do something he wasn’t comfortable with.
He shook his head. “I don’t mind.”
I thought he might call later, but Boone surprised me by pulling out his phone and hitting the call button. As it rang, he said, “Pops might be busy with a customer. It’s about three hours earlier in California, but he’s usually up by now. He typically tries to answer when I— Hey, Pops.”
I couldn’t hear Nikodemus Holland’s answer, but Boone’s soft smile let me know he’d been greeted kindly.
“Yeah, I’m doing okay. No, nothing like that. I’ve just had a few more headaches recently. Weird corpse and even odder soul.” Boone became silent and I figured he was listening to something his father said. “Of course Momma called you.” Boone placed his forehead in his hand. When he lifted his head again, his deep-green eyes rolled heavenward. “I’m okay. I promise.”
Boone covered the phone with his hand and whispered, “He’s a bit of a worrywart,” before uncovering the phone again and saying, “Again, I promise. Not gonna lie, it was awful, but no permanent damage done.” Boone did a bit more nodding and his feet kicked the swing into motion once more.
“I’ve actually got a question relating to what happened earlier this morning,” Boone said, voice a little stronger. “Detective O’Hare is here and—” Boone’s eyes flashed my direction and his cheeks colored. “Yes,thatdetective.”
I raised an eyebrow, but Boone waved me off. “I’m going to put you on speakerphone. Be nice,” Boone admonished before he pulled the phone away from his ear and placed it on speaker. My brain seemed to be on a ten-second delay—too long for meto stop the motion and tell Boone that speakerphone wasn’t needed.
“You still there, Pops?” Boone asked.
“Of course,” Warlock Nikodemus Holland answered, his voice a deep baritone that rattled its way through my core. “Detective O’Hare, my son tells me you require my expertise.”
Boone’s eyes rolled again. “He’s just got a general question about warlocks, Pops.”
“Thus, he requires my expertise,” Holland repeated. The response should have sounded arrogant, but the matter-of-fact tone removed the sting.
Clearing my throat, I leaned a little closer and said, “I appreciate your time, Warlock Holland.”
“Nonsense. Interacting with my son is never a waste of my time. Now, what is it you wish to know?”
Holland’s message was clear. He was gracing me with hisexpertiseas a favor for his son, and nothing more. “I’ll get straight to the point. Can a warlock damage a soul?”
“Shred,” Boone corrected. “It was more than damaged.”
Silence filled the air, and I worried the call had been dropped until Holland’s deep voice answered, “It might be possible, though why anyone would attempt such an atrocity is beyond me. I doubt any warlock has ever tried to know for certain. I can envision the mechanics of it, but a necromancer of some ability would still need to be involved.”
I asked the obvious question. “Why?”
“Holding a soul once it has left the body is beyond a warlock’s ability. Only a necromancer may do that.”
I rolled that information over before asking, “What about a priest or priestess?”
