Page 32 of Deadly Lineage
I nodded. “Of course. Momma’s house too. Pops made sure of it. Our security is better than anything human-made.” Electronic security was great when protecting against human threats. It didn’t do jack against other species.
Spinning back around, Franklin asked, “Do you think your father would mind if I had a way to contact him? Just in case?”
It was my turn to raise my eyebrows. “Just in case?” I asked, digging out my cell phone and texting Franklin Pops’s number.
Franklin’s phone dinged and I glanced up. That wasn’t the typical text arrival sound. His cheeks flushed slightly but before I could ask, Franklin said, “Thanks. I’ve got a few questions for him and if you don’t think he’d mind, I’ll give Warlock Holland a call. Or would texting be better?”
“I’d try a text first. I’ve told him to be nice to you, but you never know with Pops. Warlocks have a reputation for a reason.” I was under no illusion that the rest of the world got a very different version of Pops than me.
Shifting his phone to the side, Franklin leaned forward and waved his hand, asking for my phone. “Let me get a listen to this message. Bart Livingston sounds like a special kind of idiot if he’s leaving threatening voicemails.”
I grinned. “He’s special, all right.” I pulled up the voicemail and handed it over. Bart’s nasty voice came to life.
“Boone, what the fuck do you think you’re doing? I just got a call from my fiancée. She’s calling off the engagement! What the hell did you tell her? This is none of your fucking business. I was going to let what happened at my grandfather’s gravesite go, but you’ve taken things too far. I will not allow you to fuck up my life, not when I’ve worked this hard. Watch your back, Boone. Accidents happen all the goddamn time and you’re about to have a fatal one. No one gives a shit when a necromancer dies.”
By the time the message was done, Franklin’s neck was flaming red. The color clashed against his strawberry-blond hair. I didn’t care. His fury on my part eased the pressure in my chest.
“Does this asshole know who your father is?” Franklin asked, his hand gripping my phone so hard I was afraid the screen might crack.
“He does. Not that it seems to have done much good.” I wasn’t above using Pops’s reputation now and again. In my humble opinion, it stopped more violence than it started. “I’ve cut off access to two financial windfalls.” At Franklin’s puzzled look, I relayed my latest commission and what it had cost Bart Livingston. “I’m not exactly sure what this guy’s financial straits are, but if it’s bad, then Pops’s threats might not be enough.”
“Greed’s a bitch,” Franklin said in understanding.
“It is. I also get the feeling Bart’s into some shady dealings. It could be that he owes some not-so-friendly people money. If that’s the case…”
“He’s got nothing to lose,” Franklin supplied.
“Possibly. That’s just speculation.”
“It’s good speculation.” Leaning back, Franklin steepled his fingers. “I’ll look into things. I’ve got some colleagues that I think can help too.” The corner of his lip twitched. “Myfriendsaren’t as impressive as yours, but they’ll do in a pinch, especially when human crime is involved.”
I pushed out of my uncomfortable chair and gave Franklin a saucy wink and shit-eating grin. “I knew I came to the right man.”
His cheeks flushed adorably. I didn’t think Detective Franklin O’Hare knew what to do with me half the time. “I need to listen to that recording a few more times.”
“I can forward it to you.”
“That’ll work. In the meantime, you should take out a restraining order.”
I made a disgruntled sound. “I don’t think that will do much.”
“Maybe not, but it will get something legal on the books and give you more power if Bart does something stupid.”
Franklin was right. I was half-human. I suppose I was half-warlock too. My particular combination came out necromancer. I wasn’t fond of human law. It was painfully slow and irritating.Fairy law was swift and deadly—if you fucked up, you paid the price. Often, that price was death. There were grayer zones within the human legal system.
“Okay,” I answered. It was another hoop to jump through.
“Promise you’ll call if anything happens. Anything at all.” Franklin did that thing where his gaze bored into me. My body instantly wanted to fall forward and melt into that protective gaze. It took every ounce of willpower I had to take a step back instead of forward. My heart thundered and my skin was slick with sweat. I had no idea if Franklin felt a similar reaction. The man always appeared so cool, calm, and collected. Between the two of us, he was the stoic mastiff while I was the overeager, hyped-up Jack Russell terrier.
“I promise,” I answered with a soft smile. I even planned on keeping that promise. I’d happily snag any excuse to contact Detective Franklin O’Hare.
Chapter
Ten
Franklin
I played the message again, this time to officer Ebony Becks. Hearing it for the twentieth time didn’t make the message any less rage-inducing.
