Page 19 of Deadly Avarice
I checked the time and noted that it had gone past seven. With a groan, I followed Becks’s example. “Hadn’t planned on it.” I was still working on the domestic homicide case. The autopsy was due back any day now. I didn’t expect too many surprises. I was awaiting a warrant to give me access to Mrs. DeVane’s medical records. If there was a history of abuse that had been bad enough to seek medical attention, those records would go a long way to reducing her sentence. If she’d gone to several different hospitals for treatment, that would indicate a familiar pattern victims of domestic abuse often favored. Again, that would help Mrs. DeVane’s case. If there was nothing, then the DeVane case would get a lot more interesting.
Standing, I cracked my back, sighing at the relief and followed Becks’s pathway to the door. I sent Boone a quick text letting him know I was on my way home. There was no question where I’d spend the night. It was stranger for me to go back to my condo. Boone had only slept over at my place a handful of times. His home was…well…homier. It was also protected better than Fort Knox. Warlock Holland made certain of that. It just made more sense staying at Boone’s place.
The air was damp when I walked out of the station. A fine mist hung heavy in the dark air, reminding me of days spent in Chicago. The dampness made it feel colder than it truly was. Not near enough to turn the mist into sleet or snow, but bone chilling all on its own.
Traffic was low and it took me less than fifteen minutes to make it to Boone’s house. I felt the power of Holland’s protective charms roll over me as I pulled into the driveway. They were far more welcoming than the man himself.
I released a heavy sigh while walking up the steps. Boone and I had another night together before his father arrived. Holland would either stay with Lydia tonight or get his own place. Past experience told me he’d stay with Boone’s momma.While Holland and Boone’s momma might not be romantically involved, they retained a congenial relationship and were still friendly. They did a far better job of co-parenting than most parents I knew.
Boone greeted me at the door, the scent of chicken noodle soup heating on the stove adding a layer of warmth to the dreary evening. I sank into his embrace as I dropped my laptop case on the floor.
“I’ve got dinner warming on the stove,” Boone said after peppering my cheek with kisses.
“Chicken noodle,” I said. “Smells delicious.” I didn’t ask Boone if he made it. I knew my necromancer and cooking wasn’t in his wheelhouse. It wasn’t in mine either so I could hardly judge.
“I stopped by the grocery on the way home,” Boone said as he walked into the kitchen, picked up a wooden spoon, and stirred the soup. “I picked up a loaf of French bread also. Could you get the butter out of the fridge and get the table set up?”
I moved around Boone’s home as if it were my own. Given how many days and nights I’d spent here, I had the kitchen layout memorized and it didn’t take me long to get the plates, soup bowls, and glasses. I poured Boone a glass of sweet tea and a glass of water for myself. Boone dished out the soup, cut up the bread, and we both sat down.
The soup wasn’t as good as my nana’s, but not much was. It still tasted fantastic. “This is great,” I said between spoonfuls.
“I thought it would be a nice change from pizza and burgers. Also, the weather made me think of the soup.”
I nodded while lifting another spoonful to my lips. Cold was a matter of opinion. While Northerners wouldn’t think it was cold outside, for the area, it was chilly.
Boone and I demolished the French bread and each of us drank another glass of our given beverage. When my appetitewas sated, I leaned back and told Boone what I’d found out regarding Leander Dun.
“I think the acreage listed under Trafalgar’s name might be a place to start,” I said. “What do you think?”
Leaning into his chair, Boone’s hands rested on his belly. His hair really was getting too long to probably be comfortable. He kept pushing it off his forehead, but it had a mind of its own and fell back over his eyes.
“I think I agree with you. If history is anything to go by, necromancers who survive into adulthood generally find someplace to hunker down and hide from the world. Twenty-three acres of untouched forest in a sparsely populated area would be a good place to do that.”
“It would,” I agreed. “Assuming Leander is on that land, I’m not sure how we’ll find him. It’s a lot of area to cover.”
“True, but there has to be a road or something leading into the area.”
I thought back to the map I’d briefly examined and shook my head. “Maybe. I didn’t study the area close enough. Maybe we can do that tonight or tomorrow.”
Boone’s grin lit up his face. “I’m not sure how much time we’ll have tomorrow, what with it being Harvest Day and all.”
I worked hard to keep my face neutral. “I have to go into the precinct in the morning. Barring any major catastrophes, I should be back in time for a late lunch.” While I never wanted anyone to bemurdered,I wouldn’t lie and say I’d be upset if I couldn’t make it back for lunch.
Boone’s knowing chuckle filled the room and warmed my heart. Reaching across the table, Boone gave me his hand and I easily linked my fingers with his. “Oh baby, you don’t have to pretend with me. I love Pops and I love you for trying to make nice with him. That doesn’t mean I’m blind to how he is or how difficult spending time with him can be for you. Have I told yourecently how much I appreciate you?” Boone cocked his head to the side, his grin promising a whole lot ofappreciationheaded my way.
Clearing my throat, my cheeks flushed with warm anticipation. “You tell me all the time, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”
Slowly getting up, Boone stood and sauntered toward me. Going down on his knees, Boone worked his way between my spread legs, his hands moving up and down my thighs. My breath caught. Boone was beautiful. In every way someone could be beautiful, Boone was absolutely stunning.
Boone peeked up at me through a curtain of lush, dark hair. “Oh, baby, talking is so overrated. Sometimes, actions really do speak louder than words.”
And just like that, all my words escaped me as Boone reached for my zipper, freeing my heavy, thick cock. The look on his face before he engulfed me was something I knew I’d mentally relive time and time again.
Chapter
Seven
Erasmus
