Page 13 of Deadly Deception (Necromancer Tales #2)

Chapter

Thirteen

Erasmus

“He’s been like that for a few hours,” Sara said. “I got Navarre to eat a couple bites of oatmeal and drink some water earlier, but that’s been it. I brought some fruit too, but so far he hasn’t touched it.” Sara sounded as sad as Navarre looked, not that I could see much of him with his back to us.

Navarre lay on an uncomfortable-looking mattress that hung from a steel bedframe attached to the wall. The sheriff’s department didn’t have a special bedroom for non-criminals, so he’d been kept in one of the jail cells. He was currently lying on his side in a fetal position. He didn’t so much as twitch when Sara unlocked his cell and we walked inside.

“Do you want me to stay?” Sara asked.

“No. I’d like some time alone with him if that’s okay.”

“Sure. I’ll be down the hall if you need me. No one should be able to get in without me knowing, so you should have some privacy. I’ll leave the two of you alone.”

I stood there, listening to Sara’s quieting footfalls as she moved farther down the hall. “Navarre,” I said cautiously while inching my way closer to the bed. “Can you hear me? Are you awake?” I might be disturbing his sleep, but I got the feeling Navarre wasn’t peacefully at rest. His shoulders were too tense.

My inquiry was met with silence. Running my fingers through my hair, I realized how disheveled I probably looked. Tugging at my hair was an anxiety-induced habit and right now, my anxiety ran high. Anger would come later. Right now, the brush with death was too near to easily dismiss. I should have stayed in the office with Franklin, but I just couldn’t. I needed to get up and move. I needed to do something, even if that something was as fruitless as this endeavor might be.

Projecting my worries onto someone else was also a self-preservation habit. Navarre was my nearest outlet, and my mind had instantly filled with the need to see him.

Easing down on the edge of Navarre’s bed, I rested my ass on a miniscule section. I should have asked Sara for a chair. My earlier adrenaline rush was crashing.

“You look like shit.”

My head shot up, my heart attempting to respond to the latest shock. It barely twinged and calmed easily when I found Aurelia standing there. I could make out the same backpack straps she’d sported earlier. This time, she had a small bag dangling from her left hand and a thick watch wrapped around her right wrist. Otherwise, she was decked out in the same nineties grunge music video apparel, complete with well-worn combat boots.

“Hey, Aurelia,” I said by way of greeting, my tone sad. “Thanks for the ego boost.”

Ignoring my sarcasm, Aurelia focused her attention on the necromantic lump behind me. “Is it alive?” She leaned forward, eyes intense before giving a satisfactory nod. “It lives.”

“ It is Navarre. He’s a necromancer, like me.”

Aurelia’s nose scrunched before she shook her head. “He may be a necromancer, but he is not like you.” She waved a hand around Navarre’s body and said, “I can sense the chaos surrounding him.”

Navarre stiffened and stirred. His head turned and I could tell he was listening. “No, he’s not exactly like me. Necromancers don’t all have the same abilities.”

“He is no threat to me,” Aurelia stated, apparently satisfied.

My heart swooped low, landing in my belly and fluttering like a wounded bird before soaring back up with relief. I’d been afraid how Aurelia would react. Her casual dismissal of Navarre was honestly for the best.

Incessant, obnoxious beeping sounded from Aurelia’s wrist. Thankfully, she hit the correct button, shutting off the horrid noise. Crouching low, she removed the backpack and set it on the ground. I watched in silent fascination as she rustled around in the small bag she’d carried with her, digging out a plastic baggie full of food and a container of water. She set both down on the ground before reaching into the backpack and scooping out the now mewing kitten.

“Peaches insisted I wear this irritating thing.” Aurelia waved her right wrist at me. “Peaches programed it to alert me when the creature needs food and water.”

Navarre shifted behind me and when I looked, he was sitting up. His dark hair fell against his face, covering his eyes. I didn’t need to see them to tell where his gaze locked. He was staring at the kitten, her face shoved into the bowl of kibble and merrily eating away.

“It is an annoyance, but I can see the utility of it,” Aurelia stated as she watched the kitten eat. “It has proven useful. The creature has been more appeased. The electronic device has other timers to alert me when the creature needs to eliminate and when it should be played with.” Aurelia sounded genuinely confused at the latter part.

Scooting off the thin mattress, Navarre sat on the even harder concrete floor. “Can I pet her?” he asked, voice so soft that I had to lean in to hear him.

“If you want,” Aurelia answered, sounding even more perplexed. “Though I do not understand the appeal.” That was obvious enough.

Navarre ran cautious fingers down the nape of the kitten’s neck. Her purr was quick to follow. The kitten had a very loud motor.

Aurelia’s eyes widened. “How did you produce such a sound?” She crouched down beside the kitten, and I had the very surreal experience of watching Navarre teach Aurelia how to pet a cat.

“It’s easy. Just be gentle,” Navarre answered.

“It is a pleased sound?” Aurelia asked.

I caught the edge of Navarre’s grin. “It is. She’s happy. Here, you try.” To my horror, Navarre reached out and grabbed Aurelia’s wrist, bringing her hand closer to the kitten. She didn’t protest and allowed Navarre to move her fingers. “See, just like that.” Navarre removed his hand and allowed Aurelia to take over.

I rarely witnessed Aurelia’s features soften like they did now. Peaches might just be a hidden genius. I never would have considered it possible.

“It is good,” Aurelia pronounced, looking up at me. “At first, when Peaches gave me this creature, it seemed like he was asking me to be her master.” Aurelia’s expression instantly turned dark. “I did not understand why he would believe I desired such a thing. But I am not her master. This creature does as she wants. I do not control her.”

Laughter bubbled up, flying from my lips before I could hope to contain it. The very thought… “Gaia, that’s funny, thinking you could be the master of a cat.” I shook my head. “Trust me, Aurelia, cats would never tolerate anyone who thought they could be their master. The very thought…” I continued giggling, finding the idea more humorous than it warranted. I blamed my recent near-death experience.

“He’s right,” Navarre agreed. “Cats do their own thing. They don’t care what anyone else thinks. They tolerate us, not the other way around.” Navarre made a pleased sound when the kitten finished eating and climbed into his lap. “What’s her name?”

Aurelia stood, staring down at the pair. “I have not decided yet. Peaches tells me that naming a creature is an important task. I do not want to make a mistake. I will wait until I feel certain the name is correct.”

Navarre gave a solemn nod. “Names are important.” He shook his head and quietly spoke to something to his right. “Don’t say that. Names are very important.”

I stared. Neither Aurelia nor I had verbally disagreed.

Aurelia cocked her head to the side and regarded Navarre. “Your existence is not pleasant,” she stated flatly.

Navarre finally looked up, eyes watery and grin heartbreaking. “No, probably not.” He waved a hand around his head and said, “They won’t go away, and they won’t stop talking. All night, all day, all the time… No, it’s true, you won’t shut up,” Navarre argued with something, or more precisely, someone I couldn’t see.

“You’re real,” Navarre said while petting the cat in his lap.

I sat up straighter and asked, “Am I real?” Of course, I knew I was there. The question was, what did Navarre think?

Navarre shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know.” He didn’t seem overly concerned about the matter. Navarre simply continued petting the kitten. “The loud one is gone now. It’s just the regulars. You might be a new regular.”

Navarre had no idea how right he was. Had the gunmen who were sent after Franklin and me succeeded, I might have very well become one of Navarre’s regulars .

Swallowing down the bitterness of that thought, I asked, “And Aurelia? Is she real?”

Navarre’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “I think so. She’s different and she brought the cat. So, she’s probably really here.”

“He is very confused,” Aurelia stated frankly.

“He is,” I easily agreed. “I need to find Navarre a medium. I think someone like that could really help him.” Navarre ignored me. I had a feeling he’d relegated me to one of his regulars and was used to tuning those voices out. Given his earlier comment, it was obvious he wasn’t always successful.

“I do not know of these mediums,” Aurelia said. “I have heard of them before, but none have ever been my master, nor has any master wished me to interact with one.”

“I don’t know any either,” I admitted. “From what I understand, there aren’t many that truly have the talent. I left a message at Dusk asking for Agent Frost to call me. My best bet is contacting the Magical Usage Council. They might have a medium on staff.” I didn’t express my fear that even if they did, they wouldn’t authorize using their abilities on a necromancer.

“I have had very few interactions with Agent Frost. Peaches and Lucroy have expressed their concerns regarding my visitations to Dusk.”

“And you’ve heeded those concerns?” I asked, truly curious.

Aurelia’s grin was more mischievous than malicious. “They do not see me if I do not wish it.”

A chill raced down my spine. Did Peaches know that? Did King Moony? And if they did, could or would they do anything about it? As long as Aurelia didn’t cause harm, should they push their desire for her to stay out of Dusk or simply ignore it? I had no idea and doubted they did either. Aurelia was like an unpredictable teenager whose trigger was just as mysterious as their developing brain.

Scooping the kitten out of Navarre’s lap, Aurelia placed it into the odd backpack with the plastic, see-through bubble. She packed away the water dish and empty food container and settled the backpack over her shoulders. She didn’t bother saying goodbye. I’d be shocked if she ever uttered a parting word.

Navarre stared forlornly at his empty lap and I determined that whatever became of him, I’d try and make certain he had a pet. I think I understood his earlier comment. There were no ghost animals circling Navarre so when he saw one, he at least understood it was real. It was most likely a small relief.

Standing, I reached for the banana I’d found lying on a side table. It was probably part of Navarre’s breakfast. Peeling it, I broke off a section and handed it to Navarre. I gave it a fifty-fifty chance of it working and was halfway surprised when he reached out and took the offered bit of fruit.

Mimicking Aurelia’s earlier crouch, I got down on Navarre’s level and said, “I’m going to see if I can find a way to help you. I’m not going to offer any promises because I have no idea if I’m going to be successful or not. I just wanted to let you know that I’m not abandoning you.” I hadn’t truly thought of it in those words until that exact moment.

Navarre ignored me, going so far as to look through me. Could he see the spirits dogging him? He must, otherwise he should be able to tell the difference between the living and the dead. I wanted to ask him how he found DeWayne’s body or if he saw anyone else in the area. Given how fresh the blood on his clothing had been when Navarre was found, he must have come across DeWayne not long after death.

Clarity is a strange thing. It’s even stranger when it slams into you hard enough to steal your breath and light up your brain like a harvest moon.

“Shit,” I murmured while pushing into an upright position. I stared down at Navarre as he finished off the banana. He was surprisingly na?ve and innocent, this cursed necromancer. He was also a possible witness to what happened to DeWayne Foster. Why in the hell hadn’t any of us thought of that before?

I didn’t bother telling Navarre goodbye or promise I’d be back later. I doubt he would have cared either way. He had enough unwanted company circling his brain.

Sara hadn’t locked me in. The cell had been locked when I’d gotten there, but I got the feeling that was for Navarre’s protection. Not from outside forces, but from him wandering out and getting lost or upset in his confusion.

Quick stepping down the hall, I pushed the door open. Sara was on the other side, and I think I startled her with the force of my exit.

“Guard the door,” I ordered as I hurried back to Sheriff Henson’s office. I didn’t bother waiting to hear what Sara had to say. I’d apologize later for my bluntness.

I was relieved my brain had been working well enough when Sara had walked me to Navarre’s holding area that I remembered the path there and back. When I got to the sheriff’s door, I didn’t bother knocking. I busted in. I was surprised how breathless I sounded when I said, “We’ve got to get Navarre out of here.”

Franklin jumped up. The room was small, and he was by my side in less than two steps. Large hands gripping my shoulders, Franklin leaned down and asked, “Why? What’s happened?”

I shook my head wildly. Thoughts tumbled through, racing too fast to harness and call to heel. “I’m an idiot,” I said by way of answer. Franklin’s scrunched eyes and twisted lips told me I’d confused the hell out of him. Staring up into his steady gaze, I said, “He’s a witness. Or he might be a witness.” I shook my head harder. “Gaia, I don’t know if Navarre saw anything or not, but he could have .” I pushed my pleading need into my eyes, begging Franklin to understand. “Navarre might know something.”

I saw the moment Franklin got it. Sheriff Henson took a bit longer. “Even if he did, Navarre’s brain’s out to lunch. He’s useless as a witness.”

I pushed Franklin aside. Tompkins stood close to Franklin, and I had to push through him to get to the Sheriff. “You and I know that, but if you were the person responsible for DeWayne’s murder…if you were willing to go so far as to try and murder Franklin and me in the cold light of day…would you be willing to take a chance a possible witness might talk?”

Henson’s expression went lax before tightening with realization. “Fucking hell,” Henson cursed. “That’s not as big of a leap as I wish it were.”

“It’s really not,” Tompkins agreed before looking at me and asking, “Do you really think Navarre saw something?”

“I have no idea. He did talk to me a little earlier, but I got the distinct impression Navarre’s not convinced I’m real. More precisely, he’s not sure if I’m alive or if I’m one of the spirits haunting his existence. Even if he did see something, I think he’d have a difficult time knowing if it was truly happening to the living or… Hell, I don’t know. I don’t have enough information to try and get inside Navarre’s head.”

“Damn.” Henson stood and paced the small length behind his desk. “Normally I’d say the station would be the best place to keep him safe, but—”

“But we don’t know if you’ve got someone on the take,” Franklin cut in. “If you really do have a bad apple spoiling the barrel, then Navarre’s a sitting duck in that cell.”

Plopping back down in his seat, Henson propped his elbows on the edge of his desk and placed his forehead in his cupped palms. Five deep breaths and exhales later, he peeked above his fingers and stared up at Tompkins. “What do you think, Shane?”

Franklin’s former captain shrugged and splayed his hands out to the side. “I think this is a clusterfuck.”

Henson chuckled darkly. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I’m not sure I can. However, I think it might be in Navarre’s best interest if we got him out of the precinct.”

“Exactly where do you want to put him?” Henson asked. “We can’t exactly release him back onto the street. He’d be even more of a sitting duck out there, and on the off chance Navarre did see something when DeWayne Foster was murdered, and on the even slimmer chance that we can ever get any useful information out of him, then I don’t want to lose the best lead we might have.”

“There are a lot of chances, maybes, and mights in that train of thought, but I can’t disagree with your logic, Alfonse.” Tompkins stepped closer to Sheriff Henson’s desk. “I can’t think of a lot of options. What I can do is offer up my home. Navarre can stay with me.”

Henson shook his head. “We don’t know what Navarre’s capable of. While he may not be responsible for DeWayne Foster’s murder, I don’t think a single person in this room is willing to attest to Navarre’s sanity. If Necromancer Boone is correct, then Navarre isn’t even sure what’s real and what isn’t. That can make for a dangerous situation.”

“Sheriff Henson’s right,” Franklin agreed. “It’s too risky.”

I remained quiet, hating that I agreed with them. While I didn’t think Navarre was violent, I also couldn’t begin to guess what he might or might not do.

Shane Tompkins’s senior years hadn’t diminished his recklessness. “What’s life without a little risk now and again? I’m willing to do this.”

Franklin stepped around me, placing himself at Tompkins’s side. “Is this about what happened before? You know that wasn’t your fault.”

My gaze flicked from Franklin to Tompkins. If either one had bothered to look, they would have seen the confusion dripping from every one of my pores. “What happened before?” I asked. I didn’t want to pry, but if it had any bearing on Navarre, then I needed to advocate for my fellow necromancer.

Tompkins’s head was bowed as he stared through Henson’s desk. Franklin finally answered, “It was another necromancer, the only one I’d met before you.”

Intrigued, I said “I didn’t know you met one before. What were they like?”

“Dead,” Franklin answered, and Tompkins cringed. “Suicide.”

I inhaled a hissed breath.

Tompkins sounded at least twenty years older than before when he whispered, “I should have done more. I knew he was in trouble. I saw the signs and I… He was a necromancer, and I didn’t want to get involved. I let my prejudices get the better of me. The day he took his life, I swore I’d never let that happen again.”

“Christ, Shane.” Henson leaned back in his chair, rocking it backwards dangerously. “That was what? Ten years ago?”

“Nine,” Franklin answered. “You didn’t put the gun in his hand.”

“Maybe not, but I didn’t do a damn thing to keep it out of his hands either. I vowed I’d do better, and I aim to keep that promise.” Tompkins raised his head, his gaze daring Franklin to contradict him.

“That’s why you were so damn persistent I bring O’Hare and Boone in on the case.” Henson sighed while tilting his head toward the ceiling, as if the sky beyond would unveil all its secrets. “I should have seen it. You’re not going to let me talk you out of this, are you?”

Tompkins grinned. “That’s a rhetorical question if I ever heard one.”

Henson grunted.

Tompkins made his case. “We’ll let everyone else believe Navarre’s been released back onto the streets. No one beyond these four walls needs to know where he truly is.”

“Okay,” Henson relented. “How do you want to do this?”

Tompkins’s grin turned into a full-blown smile. “How we do everything, by the seat of our pants with nothing more than a few prayers to the Almighty to shore up our wings and put out our fires.”