Page 8 of Deadly Lineage
Momma barked out a laugh. “You keep telling yourself that, sweetie. I’m not fooled. It’s a form of self-preservation, and one your father and I heartily agree with.”
That was one thing about Momma and Pops. They weren’t soulmates, but they’d remained friendly. Hundreds of miles separated them, but they were a unified front when it came toprotecting and raising me. Though some might argue I wasn’t nearly as sane as I claimed, for a necromancer, I was remarkably levelheaded and coherent.
Checking her watch, Momma frowned. “I hate to do this to you, sweetie, but I really need to get going if I’m going to make it across town.” Already reaching for her keys and purse, Momma placed her hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Are you going to be okay?”
I nodded. “Nothing another glass of tea won’t cure.”
Ruffling my hair, Momma smiled, her eyes glittering. “That’s my boy.”
No matter how old I grew, I figured Momma would always call me herboy. I’d stopped being bothered by it when I hit twenty. There were a hell of a lot worse fates in this world than being Lydia Boone’s beloved son.
“Stay as long as you like.” Momma leaned down and kissed the crown of my head. “Don’t forget to set the charms before you leave.”
Like I’d ever forget. I barely kept from rolling my eyes as Momma’s heels clicked across the floor and toward the garage. I wasn’t sure which house had more charms—mine or Momma’s. Pops made sure we were both protected. Nothing malicious had a prayer of getting through.
“You look like shit.”
Except maybe a djinn. Not that I thought Aurelia was malicious per se…
“Thanks, Aurelia.” The words came out muffled with my face cradled in my palms. “Did you come all this way just to point out the obvious?”
“It is amusing that you believe travel is difficult or time consuming.” More than a hint of sarcasm laced those words.
Proving Momma right, I gave Aurelia the one-finger salute, not that she seemed to mind. Pulling my head up, I rested mychin on my fisted hand and stared up at Aurelia. She was about my height, but I was sitting on a barstool and she was standing not far away.
“Does Peaches even know when you leave?” I asked. Peaches was a pixie living his best life in Rutherford Haven, Virginia. He was also the current keeper of Aurelia’s object of attachment, something tethering all djinn to a master.I’d been curious for a while if Peaches was aware of Aurelia’s little excursions.
Aurelia gave a slow nod. “If he is on his land, then yes. Peaches is aware of every coming and going.” She shrugged as if it weren’t really that important. “Should he require my presence, he has but to wish it.”
To my knowledge, Peaches hadn’t wished anything of Aurelia since Alpha Arie Belview’s welcome demise. None of us knew if that would continue or not. I didn’t know Peaches well, but what little interaction I’d had with the pixie made me think it would have to be something dire for him to make any request of Aurelia. Peaches wasn’t like any of Aurelia’s previous masters. Frankly, I didn’t think she knew what to do with the pixie, or the situation.
According to Aurelia, she’d found ways to murder all her previous masters. Peaches was either brave, naïve, or very smart. I couldn’t figure out which, and figured it was probably a combination of all three. Regardless, Peaches didn’t strike me as a pixie who gave it much thought, or spent a lot of time concerned.
Accepting Aurelia’s statement for what it was, I leaned more heavily into my fisted hand. Despite Momma’s sweet tea, I still felt wiped. I probably did look like shit. I knew I felt like it. Inhaling deeply, I said, “You didn’t stick around last night.”
“I did not see the need. I did not believe it would be that interesting. Was I wrong?”
I scoffed. “I suppose it depends on your definition ofinteresting. It was certainly…something.” I cringed at the memory of Rebecca’s screams along with the horrid texture of her soul. “It wasn’t a typical summoning.”
“Oh?” Aurelia sounded as interested as I’d ever heard. “Do tell.”
And so I did. I wasn’t sure why. It was the second time I’d told the tale. Momma had listened, wincing when I described Rebecca’s painful distress. Aurelia didn’t so much as blink. She stood there, arms crossed beneath her ample breasts and a look of barely-there interest on her face. Not a single inked tattoo flared to life. When I finished, she simply cocked her head to the side and said, “I should have stayed.”
“Really? Because I would have liked to be anywhere else.” And wasn’t that the truth. If I could go back in time, I would have skipped my witching hour walk through Trinity’s Holy Cross graveyard. Then again, Rebecca Mosely’s body needed to be found. If I hadn’t walked down that weedy path, she’d still be lying in that grave, keeping company with a corpse centuries older.
“What did the human detective have to say?” Aurelia often defined others by their species. The wordhumandidn’t sound as disparaging coming from her lips as it once had.
Hunching, my shoulders rolled inward, and I stared at my fisted hands. Pulling Rebecca’s tattered soul back had been bad, but for some reason, Franklin’s reaction had hurt worse.
Turning my head, I stared at a nearby wall. A picture of the ocean, a storm brewing in the background, graced the wall. I’d always loved that painting. I often imagined myself on the calm beach, waiting for the storm’s winds to hit me, pelting me with rain.
“What did he do?” A hint of deadly steel wove its way through Aurelia’s words, and for the first time, a touch of fear wiggled its way down my spine.
“He didn’t do anything,” I hastened to say. I wasn’t Aurelia’s master, but Peaches had given her a very loose leash. He’d wished for Aurelia to “do what she deemed best.” That was far too broad a directive to give to an all-powerful djinn. I didn’t want Aurelia getting it into her head that what was currently best was harming Franklin O’Hare.
“He did something,” Aurelia countered. “You appear haunted and I doubt the cause can solely be placed at this tattered soul’s feet. You are fond of the human detective.”
I sat up straighter, face heating. “I wouldn’t sayfond.”
