Page 23 of Deadly Lineage
“I’m sorry to bother you. I—”
“You are never a bother,” Pops scolded. “Now, tell me the reason for this unusual call.”
I grasped my t-shirt, balling up the fabric over my heart as I was reminded just how fortunate I was. My frayed nerves and weakened physical condition made me more emotional than normal, and I had to fight the moisture filling my eyes.
Steadying my voice, I managed to say, “Something happened yesterday, something I think you’ll want to know about. Remember the dead witch I found the other day?”
“The one in the graveyard? A body where it should not be?”
“Yeah, that one. The one with the shredded soul I asked you about?”
“Yes. Unfortunately, I remember that very well. What does that have to do with yesterday? Did your detective locate her murderer?”
My cheeks heated and I admonished, “He’s notmydetective, Pops.”
“Of course he is. Now, how does this relate?”
Pops could be infuriating when he used that arrogant tone. “Franklin’s still working on that case. But it seems like Rebecca Mosely isn’t the only victim.” Franklin might not be certain, but I was. Phineas’s soul was just as badly tortured and torn as Rebecca’s had been. I couldn’t believe two culprits could be out there doing the same hideous deeds independent of each other.
Brief silence met my ears before Pops said, “Explain.”
And so I did. I gave him all the gritty details, leaving out the part where I collapsed, nearly unconscious, into Franklin’s arms. “He was a warlock, Pops. A young one, according to Detective O’Hare. His name was Phineas Noland. Does that name mean anything to you?” While there weren’t a lot of warlocks around, that didn’t mean they automatically knew each other.
Pops’s breathing was measured, but sharp. “No, I am afraid it does not. How young?”
“I didn’t see his body, but Franklin told me he barely had any white at his temples and his fingertips had only hints of black at their ends. Unless his killer stole his charms, he wasn’t wearing a full complement of rings, either.”
“Gaia ease his soul,” Pops prayed. It wasn’t something I heard him do often, but when he did, it was with sincerity. “Thissituation is most concerning, Erasmus. Perhaps you should come to California for a visit.”
A lazy, pleased smile lifted my lips. “I’m okay, Pops.”
“I hardly believe that is true. There is only one way you would know this soul is in the same condition as the witch’s, and that is if you brought it back. I can only assume doing so had similar results. It is harmful to you and, therefore, not something I’d recommend.”
“Trust me, I know. But if I can help, then—”
“I do not mean this as it will sound, but what help can you offer? From what I understand, these recovered souls are incoherent. They are so damaged as to be completely unhelpful. You are placing yourself in unneeded discomfort and, most likely, in harm’s way. I do not like the implications.”
I didn’t really like them either. What I also didn’t like was just how right Pops was. “Maybe I can’t get a lot of information, but I can at least figure out where their bodies are and their identities.” That was no small bit of information. “What if there are more of them out there? Or more on the way?”
That was what had truly woken me this morning. Phineas’s murder hadn’t occurred that long ago. He’d died after Rebecca. After we’dfoundRebecca. If the two victims truly weren’t related, then that meant there was a strong possibility there would be more. It could be just a matter of time.
“Erasmus, there is another possibility I do not believe you have considered.”
I blinked, trying to get out of my own head and focus on what Pops was saying. “What?”
He sighed, long and deep. “First a witch, now a warlock. Whoever is performing these heinous acts, they do not seem attached to a single species. You could be in danger.”
I jerked back so quickly my head smacked into Caroline’s tombstone. “Me? I’m just a necromancer. I’m not anything special or—”
“You are incredibly special, and notjustanything, but that is beside the point. Have a care, Erasmus. At this point, we do not know this individual’s motivation. They seem to be going to great lengths to hide their victims—both in death and in the afterlife. You are foiling half those efforts, and it is possible you may be able to unravel what has been done to the deceased’s soul. That is no small thing, and could place a target upon your head. Do you understand what I am saying?”
I did and suddenly felt cold. “Yeah, I get it. But that doesn’t mean I can jump ship and hop the first flight to Cali.”
“I know. You would not be my son if that were the case.”
I didn’t think Pops could take all the credit (or blame) for my personality. Momma had a pretty big hand in how I’d turned out too.
“Should I come to Mississippi?”
