Page 65 of Midnight Auto Parts

>Let me know what you learn.

>>Same goes for you.

“The local police departments would have interviewed their families already, wouldn’t they?”

“That’s why agencies like the 514 exist. To help humans, and others in need of protection from large paranormal organizations, get justice. But it’s an uphill battle.” I pulled out and began driving in the direction the bone pointed. “Anyone pitting themselves against a pack or clan or the Society—whoever—must be ready to fight for their convictions. The 514 is so new the badges haven’t lost their shine. I’m not sure how far they’ll get with the victims’ families.”

“You worked with them for protection from the Society,” Kierce ventured, as if only just realizing it.

“I did.” I kept the part where Harrow blackmailed me into it to myself. “I needed the 514’s help in the event the Society took issue with my loaners killing their vampires.”

“Lyle killed them.” Kierce sounded thoughtful. “You didn’t need the 514, in the end.”

“No, I didn’t, but there was a part there in the middle where I couldn’t sleep at night for fear I had cost a person their life. Then it waslives.” I still carried that guilt. “I’m glad the 514 didn’t have to go to bat for me. I don’t want the Society to remember I exist.” I took the next turn at Kierce’s instruction. “The 514 wasable to keep my name out of the official reports by presenting evidence of a dybbuk to the Society.”

Harrow had been willing to lie for me, though. I would never forget that. Too bad I also couldn’t forget what he had done to Matty. Hard lines were harder to stick to when the person crossing them had been a friend.

“You’re not a necromancer now,” he reminded me gently. “The Society has no claim to your actions.”

“I’m part necromancer.” I let his words circle my brain. “That’s always been the problem.”

“That was before.” He didn’t mention the dying part. “You’re a demigoddess with a death affinity now.”

The unbearable weight that had crushed my lungs since I came into my magic lightened enough for me to take a full, deep breath and consider what he was telling me. “I’m not the same person I was.”

“You’re still you, Frankie.” He gestured for me to turn again. “You’re the same person at heart.”

“The Society can’t touch me.” I spoke the words out loud like a talisman. “I’m free of them.”

As good as the affirmation sounded, I couldn’t shake years of conditioning in the blink of an eye.

The Society, and how it wielded its influence, had terrified me for too long.

“You’ll come to believe it.” Kierce read me with ease. “In time.”

Time I, more than likely, had in abundance. I would outlive the few necromancers who had heard of me, such as the sentinel who came to arrest me that long-ago night after Lyle turned me in and Harrow took the blame. There was bittersweet comfort in knowing I would regain my anonymity. One day.

A warm sensation in my pocket drew my hand to feel around for the source. As my fingertips brushed the bag holding myportion of the bones, I hissed at the contact burn. “What’s happening?”

“Hold still.” He noticed my pinkened fingers and pushed my hand clear. “Let me get them.”

Burnt flesh tickled my nose seconds later as he withdrew his hand, along with the bones that had melted through the insulated fabric containing them. “I’m pulling over.” I jerked the wagon off the road and threw her in park. “Why are they a million degrees all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know.” He kept hold of the bones, despite his blisters. “They must be?—”

“Drop them.” I gripped his wrist and shook his hand empty. “Don’t just sit and watch your skin flake off.”

“Your seat.” A sliver of white bone glinted on his palm. “I know how much this car means to you.”

“The car is spelled, and even if it wasn’t, that’s yourhand.” I reached for my bowler bag and pulled out a tin of healing salve I had left over from one of Aretha’s many treatments. “You are more important to me than a hunk of metal.”

The wound had cauterized so quickly there were only dried flecks of blood and exposed tendons.

Gently, I applied a thick layer then wrapped his hand with a bandage. His accelerated healing would kick in and do the heavy lifting, now that he was eighty percent healed, but this would help with the pain. And it must be excruciating. Yet Kierce hadn’t so much as winced at the charring.

“Thank you,” he said thickly, his head so low I could only see the part in his hair.

“Now.” I wiped my hands clean and packed away the supplies. “Any ideas what went wrong?”

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