Page 45 of Deadly Lineage
“Ah, there you are.” Despite the horrid scent, Boone’s face lit up when his gaze landed on me. The sheer relief reflected in his green eyes made my chest puff out and my heart hammer. Boone was happy to see me, but it was more than that. He was relaxed and eased by my presence. I don’t know why, but that meant more to me than just about anything.
“Thanks for coming, Necromancer Boone,” Harrison said, remaining where she was and not offering her hand to shake. At that moment, it struck me as odd that others referred to Boone asNecromancerBoone. No one called meHumanO’Hare. Then again, warlocks seemed to like being referred to that way. Witches too. Maybe their species was too intertwined with their work life.
“You okay in there?” Boone tapped my temple. “You seem lost in thought.”
I gently swatted his hand away. “Sorry, just ruminating.”
Boone’s grin relaxed his face and made him look softer. “I understand.” That smile quickly faded as his mouth slipped into a straight line. “I hate to say it, but I think Detective Harrison called this one correctly.” Boone flinched and pulled away. When I reached for him, he waved me off. “I’m fine, just… This one’s lingering energy is loud and just as screwed up as the last two. I’m sorry.”
“What do you have to be sorry about?” I asked.
“Beyond getting a name, I doubt I’ll be much help.”
Harrison answered, “A name will at least give us a start. A name will enable me to figure out what kind of shifter he is and contact his relatives.”
I stepped back from the body, placing more distance between us and heading to the broken window Harrison claimed. “If he’s like the other two, chances are there won’t be too many to notify.”
“Or none,” Boone added.
“Maybe, but at least it will give me a subspecies to track down and ask about the state of the body,” Harrison said.
I think it might have been the first time, but Boone truly stared at the body. I knew the second he figured it out and before he could ask, I said, “That’s what we think too.”
“I didn’t know that was possible.” Boone sounded one part awed and two parts confused. “A partial shift…after they died?”
“That’s our conundrum,” Harrison agreed. “That’s why getting a name and subspecies will be helpful, even if you can’t give us anything else.
Boone inhaled, realized his mistake, and coughed while his skin turned an unhealthy shade of green. “Fuck, that was stupid.”
I didn’t disagree but thought it was more instinct than anything, and instinct was a damnable thing to go against.
“You sure you’re up to this?” I asked. My hand automatically sought Boone out, landing between his shoulder blades and rubbing gentle circles—instinct. “No one will think less of you if you tell us all to go to hell and walk out the door.”
His gentle, grateful smile warmed my chest more than the Mississippi heat. “I think I can handle this. If he really is like all the others, I won’t hold onto his soul long. That should help but at this rate, I don’t think I’ll ever get all my necromancer juice back. We need to stop finding bodies or, at least bodies like this.”
“No argument here.”
He didn’t ask me to, but I followed Boone as he inched closer to the body. My hand stayed where it was, and Boone didn’t try and shake it off.
“Okay, let’s do this.” Crouching, Boone’s eyelids slipped closed. A low hum rattled through his throat before he quietly said, “Gotcha. Linus Remington, it’s time for you to return.” I didn’t remove my hand to write the name down. Harrison wouldhave already noted it and if I didn’t remember, Boone would tell me later.
“Fuck it’s—”
Linus Remington’s jaw cracked and his mouth opened wide, releasing an earsplitting scream into the air. His body convulsed, flopping on the floor. Fur sprouted and receded until Boone yelled, “Release!”
Remington’s body went silent as his flopping limbs dropped back to the rotting floor with an unceremoniousthump. Head contorted and mouth still wide open, Remington’s elongated canines were on full display.
Now on his hands and knees, Boone heavily panted. With his head bent and shaggy hair covering his features, I couldn’t see his eyes.
“Boone? Erasmus, are you okay? Do you need me to track down some candy, or—”
“B-back pocket,” Boone managed.
I didn’t think twice and rooted around in Boone’s back pocket until I found a couple of pieces of hard candy. Unwrapping it, I shoved the first piece in front of his downturned face and said, “Here.”
“Thanks.” Boone’s voice was raw, as if he’d been the one screaming.
“Do you want to sit or are you more comfortable like that?” He was still on hands and knees. “I can help you get farther away too. Closer to the window.” I glanced toward the window and got an eyeful of Detective Harrison. The woman was typically made of steel. I didn’t think I’d ever seen her this spooked.
