Page 29 of Deadly Avarice
“What do you want to do?” Franklin asked, voice pitched so only I could hear him.
I had no idea. Well, that wasn’t true. I wanted to speak to Leander. I wanted to talk to him in a civilized manner while not staring down the barrel of a gun and dogs snapping at my heels. To do that, I needed Leander to listen and give me a chance.
Using my hand, I gestured to the window and made what I hoped was a rolling down gesture. I didn’t get a response which I took as a hopeful sign. “I’m rolling down the window,” I told Franklin. He didn’t respond.
Pressing the button, the window eased down. Shifting slowly, I leaned out a little way. Leander barely glanced my direction. His gaze was mostly focused on Franklin, assuming he was the bigger threat. He wasn’t completely wrong. He wasn’t right either.
Deciding introductions were needed, I said, “My name’s Erasmus Boone, and this is—”
“Fucking hell,” Leander said, finally lowering his gun.
“That was quick,” Franklin muttered, and I wholeheartedly agreed. I hadn’t even gotten to the necromancer part.
“What do you want?” Leander asked, gun still lowered but not yet pointing at the ground.
“You know who I am?” I asked.
“Of fucking course I do.” This guy used profanity like it was water. While I liked a good curse once in a while, it wasn’t part of my every sentence. Momma would have washed my mouth out with soap. “I read the gods damned news.”
“Oh.” It was all so new to me. Dr. Morgan McCallister had thrown me into a spotlight I didn’t exactly want or relish. Pushing that aside, I asked, “Are you Leander Dun?”
He finally lowered the shotgun the entire way. “You know I am. Now, what the fuck do you want with me?”
It was a legitimate question, one I wasn’t sure I knew the answer to. “For now, just to talk. That’s all.”
“For now?” Leander raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking between Franklin and myself. His dogs had settled but still stood guard. “What does that mean?”
“Honestly, I’m not exactly certain. I can say I’m not here asking anything of you. I just… We’re both necromancers.”
“Yeah, lucky us,” Leander said, sounding anything but fortunate. Raising the shotgun, Leander motioned toward Franklin. “Who’s the muscle?”
My mouth slipped open and my eyes widened. “Muscle?” I stared at Franklin and despite the seriousness of the situation I laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Franklin asked, flexing his biceps. “I could be the muscle of this operation.”
I grinned and shook my head. “You are so much more than that.” I cupped Franklin’s cheek and desperately wanted to lean forward and lay my lips on his.
“Good to know you want me for more than my guns.” Franklin flexed his biceps again.
“You’re ridiculous,” I teased.
“You’re both ridiculous,” Leander said, his irritated tone letting me know Franklin and I were still skating on some pretty thin ice.
“You’re not wrong,” I agreed. “Can we shut the car off and get out? Maybe come inside so we can talk?”
Leander set the butt of the shotgun on the ground, leaning on it. The man was massive and most likely genetically took after his warlock father more than I did. Leander had dark, nearly black hair that was trimmed short. A thick beard covered most of his face. His broad shoulders were covered in a thin jacket, a faded red flannel peeking out underneath. His jeans were dark and dirt stained, and his boots appeared comfortable andweather worn. It looked like Leander and I had a similar dress code—comfy.
Glancing from side to side, Leander shifted his weight before finally nodding. “Shut the damn SUV off and get out…slowly. Don’t spook the dogs. They listen to me, but they’re on high alert right now, and nearly all of them come from a shitty background. They don’t trust easy.”
Much like the man that fed and cared for them, I thought.
Franklin shut off the car and both of us eased out of the vehicle, closing the doors as softly as possible. I left Franklin’s firearm in the glove compartment. Loaded down with Pops’s charms, we were still decently armed as we followed Leander across a small yard and up to a wide porch. Leander’s dogs followed him, sticking close to his legs. When he opened the door, all of them shuffled inside.
Leander didn’t hold the door open. He let it slam behind him.
“Welcoming,” Franklin deadpanned.
Squeezing his hand, I reached for the door, pulling it open. Franklin placed his hand on the door and held it open for me to go in first. Franklin always let me go first unless he thought we were in danger. I don’t think he thought we were under immediate threat now.
