Page 62 of Cheater Slicks

“She’s the best chance I have at getting Mamaw back. She’s in safe hands with me. I swear it.”

That appeared to mollify Pedro, slightly, but he still wasn’t happy. “Be quick and be safe.”

“I will.” I gave him enough substance I could buss his cheek. “I’ll be in and out in under fifteen minutes.”

Most everything was digital these days, so I worried there would be no handy printed bills or contracts from publishers lying out in the open for me to peruse. He must have a paper trail, right? He was playing human while he wrote his cat mystery books, and life wasn’t cheap.

Oh.

That reminded me. I might get lucky with a pill bottle for Buttons, his cat. A pet that spoiled would have boxes of preventative medication somewhere. All I needed was one label turned out where I could read it. Find that, and I could zing back here before anyone was the wiser.

If they got impatient, at least Pedro could tell the others I was in the crypt with Rollo and that I was safe. More details than that would be too risky. Mention astral projection, and Kierce would piece it together in seconds. I couldn’t afford for him to cut me off or ring the alarm bell for Dis Pater.

Thinking of him as a potential threat hurt my chest. Potentialconcernwas only slightly easier to swallow.

“We need to get started,” Rollo snapped out, jarring me out of my thoughts.

Working together, a minor miracle, we cleansed the space of the residual energies that tended to cling where spirits lingered and then set a modified circle to prevent anyone from coming in while allowing my astral self to leave.

Then all that was left was to lie down on the marble slab and hope for the best.

“Give me your hand.” Rollo waited a beat then grabbed it. “If you can’t trust me, this won’t work.”

Knowing he was right, I mumbled an apology and suppressed a flinch when he linked our fingers.

“This is how we do things in this house.” His grip was dry, warm, and firm. “I’ve got you, Frankie.”

Hearing him call me by name was rare enough it snapped my attention back to the task at hand.

“I’m going to guide you. I’m going to anchor you. And, when this is over, I’m going to bring you home.”

“Thank you.” I squeezed his fingers. “I mean it.”

“Don’t go getting sentimental on me.” He faked a shudder. “It weirds me out.”

“Understood.” I shut my eyes and drew in a deep breath. “Ready when you are.”

“Clear your mind.” He modulated his tone to a soothing bass rumble. “Focus on the path you wish to travel.” His voice dropped lower. “Picture your destination.” His words rasped through my ears. “How does it smell? What can you hear? How does it taste? What do you see?”

The questions lodged in my brain, forcing me to recall the small details of Dis Pater’s home.

Crashing waves. Sparkling waters. Seagulls calling. Rock-strewn shorelines.

No.

Those were stolen impressions, glimpsed through a window. Deeper. I had to go deeper.

The smell of leather and books. A tidy office. The laptop Dis Pater was forever typing away on.

Those were my strongest associations with him, and I drilled down into them.

Chapter headings on his laptop screen. Cat hair drifting like motes past a sunny window. A briny scent, or was it a taste? Hard to tell if I was smelling seafood in his kitchen or the sea itself without my full senses. I saw well enough and heard clearly, but the rest was a bit foggy without my body to filter input.

“Let go. Just let go. I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

Across an expanding distance, I heard Rollo and allowed myself to take comfort in his presence.

A tug behind my navel jerked me hurtling through the worn path I had traveled so often with Kierce by my side. I popped in where I always appeared, stuck to the ceiling in Dis Pater’s office. Hisemptyoffice.

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