Page 62 of Deadly Deception
“Peaches is attempting to teach Little Fang that sprites are not food.” I could tell by Aurelia’s disinterested tone what she thought of that. “Little Fang is a carnivore. It goes against her instincts not to hunt them. I believe it is a futile endeavor. But if Peaches wishes to waste his time on such nonsense, then so be it.”
Sprites were small and flew through the air. They probably looked a lot like a bird to a hungry cat. I couldn’t really disagree with Aurelia.
“I suppose if anyone can accomplish that, it’s Peaches,” Boone said. “He’s kind of used to dealing withbitey carnivores.” When I glanced Boone’s direction, he shrugged and said, “He’s bonded to a vampire.”
“Ah.” I understood where he was coming from now. “You may have a point.” We were almost at the exit to the sheriff’s office. No evidence remained of the shoot-out that had taken place a little over forty-eight hours ago, but I was still twitchy and so was Boone. Aurelia either didn’t pick up on our discomfort or didn’t care.
“This is exceedingly boring,” Aurelia stated. “You should return to your primary place of residence.”
“Mississippi?” Boone asked.
“Do you have another primary residence?”
“Nope, that’s it. I’m not going to apologize about being boring. Right about now, boring sounds excellent to me.”
“Me too,” I easily agreed.
Aurelia huffed before she disappeared. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” I said.
“I’d worry if you did. I can’t figure out if beingboringis better or worse when it comes to the all-powerful djinn.”
“I wish we had some type of manual when it comes to dealing with Aurelia.”
“Same. I can’t figure out if it would be horridly long or insanely brief. ‘Don’t order a recovering djinn to do anything’ might be the one and only piece of advice.”
“Well, it’s certainly the only piece of advice we’re confident about.” I parked the SUV and got out. The cold air immediately entered our warm haven. The cold felt good to me, but I saw Boone shiver. “Come on, let’s get inside.” Wrapping my arm around Boone’s shoulders, I guided us inside.
For once, Sara wasn’t behind the reception desk. This time, unfortunately, it was Officer Jerrod Simms. The man barely looked up and absolutely refused to make eye contact with Boone. “Can I help you?”
I wanted to reach across the desk and smack some sense into this moron but held back. “We’re here to see Sheriff Henson.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
I inhaled, begging the universe for an ounce of patience.Did we have an appointment? Fucking Henson was the one who asked us to stop by. I was just getting ready to say that when Boone went up on his tiptoes, resting his elbows on the desk surface as he leaned toward Officer Simms, invading his space. Simms backed up until he was flush against the wall.
Boone’s grin was comically wide and nowhere near friendly. “Good afternoon, Officer Simms. I believe the sheriff is expecting us. Now, if you’d be so kind as to let him know we’re here, or maybe we could head back to his office? It’s up to you. Personally, I don’t mind hanging out in the waiting room while you figure things out.” Boone started picking up objects on the desk, fingering them and then setting them back down, getting his necromancer cooties on everything in the process. It was brilliantly devious retaliation. I agreed wholeheartedly.
“He’s in his office. Go.” Simms’s grimaced, his lips pulled painfully taut. I heard the hiss of disinfectant spray as we walked away. The sound was slightly obscured by Boone’s soft chuckles.
I knocked on Henson’s door and heard his gruff, “What do you want?”
I took that as an invitation and pushed the door open, stepping aside and allowing Boone to enter first. Henson glanced up and leaned back into his chair when he saw it was us. “Thanks for stopping by,” Henson said while tossing a pen onto his now cluttered desk. That surface had been immaculate the first time I’d seen it, as had the sheriff sitting behind its width. Both were a little worse for wear.
“No problem,” Boone answered. “Any word regarding Dr. Scott’s condition?”
Henson’s features relaxed and the barest hint of a smile twitched his lips. “She’s awake. I visited Emily this morning. She looks like hell, but her doctors expect a full recovery.”
“That’s good news,” Boone answered.
“It certainly is,” Henson agreed.
“Does she remember what happened?” I asked.
Henson shook his head. “No. Emily said she was taking notes on one of the corpses when there was a sudden explosion of pain in her head. The next thing she remembers is waking up in the hospital.”
I nodded. Truthfully, I hadn’t expected much different. “Do you still have security on her room?”
“I do. No one knows if Emily will remember more or not. Given the extremes this Vanja has gone to, I don’t trust she’s safe.”
