Page 40 of Deadly Avarice
Franklin’s quick defense relaxed some of the tension in my chest.
“On the plus side, the way Huxley talked, you should be hearing from the Warlock Council soon. A list of necromancer mother names should be forthcoming. Once we get that, the real work will begin.”
My heart sank into my gut. “How many names do you think they’ll be?”
Franklin’s beer was halfway to his lips when he paused, deep in thought. “I have no idea. I imagine it will take a long-ass time to go through them all, and we’re just starting with North America.”
Foolishly, I hadn’t even considered that. Franklin was right. Necromancers didn’t simply exist in the United States and Canada. They could be found all over the world. Unless… “Necromancers might not exist in some countries. They…” I’d heard the rumors, that human law dictated necromancer babies be terminated at birth. So far, Fairy Law had allowed them to get away with it. Maybe I did need to have a conversation with Wendall Galen. He had his aunt’s ear, the Queen of Fairy.
Franklin’s hand reached out, squeezing mine. “One step at a time. Let’s clean up our backyard before we breach the neighbor’s territory.”
“You’re right. I just…”
“I know, baby. I know.” Franklin’s palm cupped my cheek, and I leaned into the casual touch. It felt so good, knowing that Franklin enjoyed touching my skin. His thick fingers were never harsh. They were a gentle sweep, the lightest hint of his deeper affection.
“Do you think we should warn Leander? Did I place him in danger?” Worry ate at my gut.
“I think it’s always wise to give a heads-up, but I honestly don’t think Leander’s in any more danger than before. I do agree with your pops about keeping the necromancers we find under wraps. At least for the time being.”
My sigh was long and deep. “I think you’re right.”
Franklin’s grin scrunched his cheeks. “I’m always right.”
“And incredibly humble.” I chuckled, but it didn’t completely take away my unease. What, exactly, had I gotten myself into? All I wanted to do was peacefully live my life. I’d never aimed to be a hero. Growing up, I’d had no such grand aspirations. I wanted to fly under the radar. Somewhere along the line, I’d turned myself into a Boeing 747 jetliner flying through the sky, pinging on every damn electronical device and easily seen from the ground below.
“Come on. Let’s get cleaned up and more comfortable.” Franklin drained the remainder of his beer before tossing it into the recycling container. Helping me stand, Franklin moved us not to the couch, but the bedroom. Rummaging around in his dresser and mine, Franklin grabbed us each a change of clothes and tugged me toward the bathroom.
“Showering together?” I cocked an eyebrow as I watched Franklin bend over and turn on the faucet.
“Saves on water,” he answered with a wink. “Now, strip down and get your tempting ass in the tub.”
“So bossy,” I teased but did as I was instructed knowing Franklin would soon be naked too. A brief thought of Aurelia somewhere nearby, blind to my vision and yet Franklin and myself on full display, flashed through my brain. I viciously tamped the unsettling image down, locking it away and attempting to throw away the key. I would not allow Aurelia to come between me and my time alone with the man I loved. Times like this with Franklin were more precious than any metal or gemstone. Being like this, alone, naked, and wet with Franklin’s loving hands soaping my body was beyond priceless.
Chapter
Thirteen
Franklin
I crouched by the body. The victim was a barely twenty-year-old male. Track marks littered what I could see of his arms. I’d bet a year’s worth of salary there were needle marks on other parts of his body also. The ME would let me know in the autopsy report. Regardless of the obvious drug use, an overdose wasn’t what killed him. That would be the hole in the side of his head.
“Who’s our victim?” I asked Johns.
“Currently a John Doe. No ID on him. Human by his looks, although I suppose he could be a were of some kind,” Johns answered.
Weres reverted to their humanoid shape when deceased. There were, however, telltale signs on the autopsy. If they guy was anything but human, then we’d contact the representative of his were community for guidance. Most other species wanted to at least consult with the human police department involved. Many times they took the case over outright. Human law enforcement rarely raised a stink if that happened.
Standing, my knees popped. I wasn’t as young and agile as I used to be. “Any witnesses?”
“None that I can find. Or more to the point, none that are willing to talk.” Johns was more resigned than irritated. We were in a shitty part of town, and the local community wasn’t overly trusting of the boys and girls in blue.
Hands on my hips, I pushed my jacket back. We’d had peeks of sun today, driving away the misty fog that had been hanging on for the past week. The break wasn’t expected to last long, but I’d take it and the warmer temps while they lasted.
With Harvest Day over, the human Christmas season was in full swing. Looking around the dilapidated neighborhood our John Doe had died in, you’d never be able to tell. Christmas had taken a hop, skip, and jump right over the broken windows and fractured homes.
“You think it’s drug related?” Johns asked. Pointing a pen toward the body, he added, “Pretty clear he was a junkie.”
I agreed. I’d seen enough overdoses during my years in homicide and before as a beat cop that I easily recognized the signs. It was also obvious that a lot of the marks were fresh. This wasn’t some guy who’d died clean.
