Page 21 of Deadly Deception (Necromancer Tales #2)

Chapter

Twenty-One

Erasmus

“I want to throttle her,” I seethed.

“I doubt that would be wise,” Franklin answered as we raced along the interstate, our rental SUV bracketed by police cars, their sirens blaring and lights flashing. “It’s a good thing Henson spoke up back there. Aurelia seems to like you…I think. Honestly, it’s difficult to tell. The point is, I don’t believe it’s smart to antagonize her.”

“Of course it’s not. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t need chastising now and again. Gaia, I need Momma here. That woman has a way of making you see when you’ve done wrong.” I ran my hands through my hair, hopelessly tangling them. “Momma would have made Aurelia feel bad about what she’s done. She would have pulled out the disappointed word.” Memories of hearing that word fall from Momma’s lips made me cringe. It was always the absolute worst. I would have rather been grounded, my phone taken away, or a thousand other punishments than hear that Momma was disappointed in me.

“I doubt that would work as well on Aurelia,” Franklin said.

I huffed. “You never know.” I shook my head while scrunching further into the passenger’s seat. My too large coat was pushed up to my ears. “Aurelia’s got some morality left. She’s done too many things that point to the fact she can discern between right and wrong.” The list was lengthy. There was also an equally long list peppered with all the times Aurelia had acted questionably.

“So far, no one’s dead.” Franklin gritted his teeth, and I reached across the console and laid my hand on his thigh, squeezing ever so slightly.

“Aurelia said Tompkins is alive,” I reminded Franklin. In fact, Aurelia said she was going back to the house to check on him. Of course, she hadn’t said it exactly like that, but that’s how I chose to take her words.

“Unconscious,” Franklin answered on a grumble. “God only knows what they did to him.”

When questioned, Aurelia had said, whoever had taken Navarre and Tabitha, they’d left Shane Tompkins behind. I wasn’t sure why, or why he’d been left alive and not outright killed. Aurelia said she’d overheard Navarre’s kidnappers say they had orders not to hurt Tompkins more than necessary, and that they’d strictly tried to follow those orders. Aurelia hadn’t seen anyone else, and I could only assume the ride the Magical Usage Council sent hadn’t arrived yet.

We were currently racing toward Tompkins’s home. Navarre and Tabitha were already gone. All we could do was hope there was some type of clue, something that might lead us to where they were. I’d already alerted the Magical Usage Council. That conversation had been…odd. That wasn’t the correct word, but I couldn’t think of a better one. They weren’t nearly as upset as I thought they should be. Nor were they terribly concerned or proactive.

I was beginning to question the legitimacy and abilities of the Magical Usage Council. The witch I’d spoken with calmly told me that, so far, Tabitha had not requested assistance. When I’d pointed out again that Tabitha had been kidnapped and most likely couldn’t contact the council, I’d been summarily dismissed and informed that the council would intercede if necessary and not a moment before. I’d stared, dumbfounded, at my phone while the screen darkened.

Franklin barely slowed as we came to the exit to Tompkins’s neighborhood. The EMT guys had beaten us to Tompkins’s home and were already inside, loading him on a gurney when we walked through the open door.

Franklin crowded around the gurney. Henson quickly followed. It was Henson who demanded, “How is he?”

“Stable,” one of the EMTs answered as the hefted the gurney up, long legs and wheels locking into place. “We want to get him to the hospital for better evaluation. There was an envelope pinned to his chest. I used gloves to remove it and laid it on the floor.” The EMTs didn’t wait for a response. They headed down the hall and out the door, leaving the front door open and the cold air access. The place was already chilly.

“Fucking hell,” Henson cursed as he snapped on gloves before leaning over and swiping up the envelope. Henson’s eyes widened when he read what was written on the front. Eyebrows furrowing, Henson’s gaze flicked from the envelope to me. “It’s addressed to you.”

“Me?” Franklin’s hand landed on my shoulder. The gentle pressure was as reassuring as it was meant to be.

“You mind?” Henson asked as he waved the envelope toward me.

“Not at all,” I answered. “I can’t imagine what it says will sound any worse coming from your lips than mine.” There was no reason to keep passing the evidence around the room.

Aurelia slid toward me. I’d seen her standing in the corner of the room. Given the lack of other responses to her appearance, I figured she was concealing herself from everyone’s view but mine.

“I left before this envelope was placed,” Aurelia said and when no one so much as glanced her way, I knew for certain she was keeping her presence under wraps. I had no idea why she sometimes did that and other times did not. Trying to figure out why Aurelia did half the things she did was a shortcut on the road to a migraine.

I hated the hint of eager excitement in Aurelia’s voice. She was truly enjoying this, which made me think I needed to speak with Peaches again soon. A bored Aurelia wasn’t good.

Henson carefully opened the envelope. His fingers were steady and his breathing even as his eyes scanned the single piece of paper.

“What does it say?” Franklin asked.

“Not much,” Henson replied. His jaw worked back and forth and a muscle in his cheek twitched. “I’ll be in touch, necromancer. Vanja.”

“That’s it?” I asked while taking a step forward.

“That’s it,” Henson reiterated.

“Not terribly helpful.” Franklin’s fingers squeezed a little tighter before letting go.

Henson made an indistinguishable sound before lowering the paper. His eyes scanned the tossed room and if possible, his jaw clenched even tighter. “What the hell is going on here?” Henson threw out a hand, the same one with the message written on it. “No one knew Navarre was here. Just the three of us and Tompkins.”

“Tabitha too,” I answered and when Henson gave me a quizzical look, I said, “She’s the medium the Magical Usage Council sent.”

“I can’t see her doing anything like this,” Franklin said, and I agreed.

“There would be no reason for her to.” Tabitha had already told Franklin she planned on taking Navarre to Minnesota. No one threatened to stop her. Navarre had no known family that would protest.

My mind tumbled and a thought that soured my stomach occurred. I was about to open my mouth, but Franklin beat me to it when he said, “Sara.”

Henson’s head shot up, eyes narrowed. “Sara? As in Sara Tompkins, Shane’s niece?” Henson adamantly shook his head. “No. Absolutely not. I’ve known Sara for years and she…” Henson’s words dissipated as he stared down at the note. “She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.” Henson’s tone wasn’t nearly as persuasive as the words.

It was my turn to reach out to Franklin. Touching his wrist lightly, I shifted close enough he could feel my body heat. “We don’t know anything for certain,” I said. “Maybe Sara told someone else.”

“How did she even know Navarre was here?” Henson asked. “His location was kept between the four of us.”

I inhaled, letting that breath out by measured degrees. “I think Tompkins thought Sara was in that sphere of trustworthiness. When Franklin and I stopped by the precinct yesterday, I got the distinct impression Sara knew exactly where Navarre had been taken.”

“Agreed,” Franklin said. “She didn’t say anything outright, but there were hints.”

“That still doesn’t mean she’s involved,” Henson argued.

“No, it doesn’t,” I easily agreed. “However, it does make an odd sort of sense.”

Henson jerked back like I’d slapped him. “How in the hell does it make an ounce of sense?”

Franklin defended my line of thinking. “You’re too close to the situation, Henson. Hell, I might be too. I get what Boone’s saying. You’ve got at least one bad apple in the station—someone who’s got a bead on what’s going on. Sara works reception, but she also works the lines between the officers. Sara’s the one that gives out assignments. She’s the one that directs certain officers to crime locations.”

Henson’s mouth opened then closed before he finally managed, “She’s not the only one.”

“While that might be true, it’s terribly convenient considering all the bodies Boone found. It might go a long way to explain why they hadn’t been found.”

“Oh, this is very interesting,” Aurelia said, reminding me she was still present. She’d been so quiet I’d nearly forgotten. Irritation flared through me, and I pushed it down. Getting mad at Aurelia wouldn’t do me any good at the moment.

Henson pushed his shoulders back, standing a little taller. “Sara’s the one that told Shane we had a necromancer in custody. Why in the hell would she do that? If she’s the one responsible, if she’s the one masquerading as Vanja, wouldn’t it be in her interest to have Navarre go down for DeWayne Foster’s death?”

I tilted my head as I considered that and found I couldn’t disagree. Franklin, however, could.

“But she didn’t tell her uncle about Navarre.”

“What?” I twisted so I could look into Franklin’s face. “I thought that’s how he found out.”

Franklin shook his head. “No. Tompkins read it in the paper, and then he contacted Sara. She didn’t bring the information to him first.”

I swallowed hard as Henson muttered a heartfelt, “Fuck.”

“Daisy Vasquez,” Franklin said. “She said that Vanja’s female.”

Henson scoffed. “Half the population’s women. That hardly narrows it down to Sara.”

“No argument here,” Franklin agreed. “However, how many women do we know that have intimate knowledge of the LaPorte County Sheriff’s Office? How many women do we know that had access to the surveillance equipment within the building? How many women do we know that would be adamant Shane Tompkins is not unduly harmed when so many others have been viciously tortured and murdered?”

Henson placed his hands on his hips, mindful of the letter still grasped in his hand. Staring at the ceiling, he paced back and forth before finally answering, “It’s thin.”

“Paper thin,” Franklin agreed. “That doesn’t make it untrue.”

“It doesn’t make it true either.” Henson blew out a deep breath, his shoulders sagging. “For argument’s sake, why in the hell would Sara do something like this? I need some kind of motive here.”

I shook my head, and Franklin bowed his. Neither of us had an answer. Neither of us truly knew Sara Tompkins well. She’d been kind enough, friendly too. She’d personally greeted us when we’d arrived and hadn’t treated me like the dirt on her shoe. She’d taken the time to walk us to Sherriff Henson’s office and all the way to Navarre’s cell. She’d done that even though it caused her obvious pain. The limp in her right leg indicated whatever happened to Sara in the line of duty hadn’t been fully recoverable.

Aurelia was still beside me and I asked her, “Did Navarre and Tabitha’s kidnappers say anything else?”

“Who are you talking to?” Henson asked while Franklin heavily sighed.

“Most likely Aurelia,” Franklin said. “We’ll explain later, but Aurelia can choose who she reveals herself to. My guess is she’s in the room somewhere and that’s who Boone’s talking to.”

“Your mate is acceptable,” Aurelia said. “Maybe,” she added with less conviction.

“Showing yourself to the others would make things much easier,” I said.

“But less amusing,” Aurelia answered, still refusing to show herself to the others.

“What did she say?” Franklin asked.

I waved a hand in Aurelia’s general direction and answered with a question. “Do you see her?”

“Got it,” Franklin regretfully answered before shushing Henson when he attempted to say something.

Aurelia’s mouth didn’t so much as twitch into a grin. I had no idea if she’d answer or not. In the end, Aurelia simply shrugged and said, “Very little. The woman said more.”

I considered that. We’d just been discussing Sara, but in this instance, I thought Aurelia was speaking of Tabitha and asked just that. “The medium Tabitha?”

“Perhaps. I did not hear her name. She was old and clutched a small bag in one arm.”

“That’s Tabitha. What did she say?” When Aurelia’s eyes narrowed, I inhaled, counted to seven and said, “I would really appreciate an answer, but the decision is up to you. It’s your choice.”

Those were the magic words. Aurelia’s posture eased and she answered, “The old woman said she would not leave Navarre.”

I considered that and tilted my head to the side. “And that didn’t bother them?”

“No.”

Simple and direct. I was starting to get used to speaking with Aurelia.

“And Navarre? Did he protest?”

For the first time, Aurelia paused and seemed to contemplate her answer. “He was docile.”

I nodded. From what I understood of Navarre, that seemed likely. Chances were good he wasn’t certain if his kidnappers were real or not. He simply went where the tide took him. Or in this case, where a bunch of goons took him.

“Anything else you can think of that might be helpful?”

Aurelia’s head cocked to the side and her eyes traveled past me to where Tompkins’s body had been when we’d arrived. “He fought them. The one on the ground.”

I gave a weak smile. That sounded like Shane Tompkins. When Aurelia remained silent, I figured that meant she either didn’t know anything else or she if she did, she didn’t feel like sharing that particular piece of information. Either way, Aurelia was done speaking.

Turning my attention from Aurelia, I gave Franklin and Sheriff Henson a synopsis of my conversation. While Henson looked skeptical, Franklin accepted my accounting of the situation easily.

“Where does that leave us?” Henson asked, frustration lacing his voice.

I stared at the paper dangling from his hand and said, “I think we have to wait.”

“Wait?”

“Boone’s right. Trust me, I hate waiting as much as you do. No matter who Vanja is, I think we know enough about them to realize if they wanted Navarre dead, he’d be dead. Same with Tompkins and Tabitha Clark. We have every reason to believe they’re both alive.”

“But why?” Henson asked. “If Vanja took Navarre because they’re afraid of what he might know, then why not just kill him? Why leave us the note?” Henson raised his hand and shook the paper.

I swallowed hard, hating the words crawling up my throat. “Bait. They’re using them as bait.”

“ Bait ?” Henson jerked back and Franklin’s muscles tensed. I saw the moment Henson understood. “The note’s addressed to you.”

“It is. I wish it weren’t, but that’s not the case. I have no idea what Vanja wants, but whatever it is, they want me to come willingly. Either that or they couldn’t figure out a way to get to me without hurting me.”

Henson grunted. “They should have thought of that before they shot up your car.”

I agreed and so did Franklin. “Something’s changed,” Franklin said. “When they tried to kill us, Boone was seen as a threat. Somewhere along the line, he’s changed to an asset. If not that, then there’s something they need from him.”

I cringed. “Considering I’m only good at one thing—”

“I call bullshit,” Franklin argued.

“Yeah, but that’s you.” I grinned up at the man I loved. “There are a lot of things I’m good at when it comes to you. I doubt those are the kinds of skills Vanja’s after.”

“Christ,” Henson muttered, the sound muffled as he wiped a hand over his face.

“They want you to bring a soul back,” Franklin said.

I shrugged. “It’s the only reason I can think of.” They could be after Pops, but I didn’t think the general population in this area of the country knew my father was Warlock Nikodemus Holland. They could be after Franklin also. I’d learned my lesson with Dr. McCallister. It was foolish to assume.

“Damn it,” Franklin cursed. “I never would have asked you to come with me if—”

“Shh.” I placed my finger across Franklin’s lips, silencing him. “You would have had a hell of a time keeping me from following you. I can be a stubborn fool when the occasion calls for it.”

With a heavy sigh, Franklin pulled me into his arms. I hated the thick coats keeping our bodies apart. “I love you. God, I can’t believe I waited so long to say it, and yet those words don’t measure up.”

I leaned my head against Franklin’s chest, the zipper of his coat digging into my cheek. From close by, I heard Aurelia’s cocky voice as she said, “Mates. I was correct.”

For good or ill, I twisted my arm enough to flip her off. I had no idea if she understood what the gesture meant, nor did I care that in Henson’s eyes, I was giving the one-finger salute to empty air.

Neither Aurelia nor Henson commented, not that I would have likely heard the words anyway. All I could concentrate on was the feel of Franklin’s arms wrapped around me, holding me tight, attempting to keep all the ill will in the world away. Unfortunately, that wasn’t his superpower. In Franklin’s defense, I didn’t think that was any living creature’s superpower.