Page 32 of Purrfectly Peculiar Pixie: Phlox's Story (Perfect Pixie Series Book 5)
Erasmus
Some graveyards were more peaceful than others. On a scale of one to ten, with one being blissfully silent and ten being rave level ear piercing, I’d place Trinity’s Holy Cross Cemetery at a two. Soft murmurs of souls long gone filtered in and out of my brain like soft elevator music. Overall, their hums were content and distant with the passage of time. The dead were like that. The more time passed, the quieter they became. Only the truly pissed or wronged souls retained their loud tenor.
My witching hour walk would have been far more peaceful if I’d been alone. Unfortunately, I’d gained a rather unique shadow since visiting Rutherford Haven. I doubted anyone else could claim the willing company of a djinn.
“Your work is very morbid,” Aurelia stated flatly. There was no judgement. She was merely stating the facts as she saw them. Her words were a variation of similar statements she’d made over the past few weeks.
“To some,” I answered, mimicking my own familiar answer. I didn’t bother telling Aurelia that I wasn’t technically on a job. I’d finished that work earlier in another cemetery. That plot of land had been a level nine. It was loud and made my head pound. Many of the graves were less than a decade old and their inhabitants were not a content group.
While my paying job only entailed speaking with one particular soul, the others chattered away, vying for my attention. It had been difficult keeping them away long enough to concentrate on Antony Livingston.
I smirked at the memory. Mr. Livingston was a firecracker in life and death. He was none too pleased his grandchildren exhumed his body and even less happy they’d hired me to interrogate him.
Antony’s grandchildren were typical clients—greedy. Stocks, bonds, jewels, and cold hard cash were missing, and they wanted to know what their grandfather did with it. I knew the answer as soon as I walked over his grave. Antony Livingston had literally taken his fortune with him to the grave. The end of his casket was packed with his wealth. I’d only needed to open the upper part of the casket to speak with him. His wealth was safely concealed at Antony’s feet.
I could have forced him to tell his grandchildren the truth. I didn’t. Instead, I’d first asked Antony why he’d hidden the valuables, not where. His soul could do nothing more than tell me the absolute truth, and that truth was coldly brutal. Some used wealth for good. Some squandered it. Some used that money to do nothing but sow evil. Antony Livingston’s grandchildren fell into that latter category.
After learning the truth, I’d laid Antony’s soul to rest, closed the casket, and walked away. I’d also returned the entirety of my retainer. I didn’t want a cent from Antony Livingston’s relatives. Threats, curses, and violent outbursts followed me out of that cemetery and drove me into the comforting arms of Trinity’s Holy Cross.
The cool comfort of an old graveyard was akin to taking a warm bubble bath. Tension eased and my muscles loosened. My brain quieted and my skin felt less prickly. With every step, I left a little more of my anxiety behind.
“Do you believe those men will follow through on their threats?” Aurelia asked, amping my anxiety back up a couple of notches.
I shrugged. “Not if they know what’s good for them. I already sent Pops a text. He’s making the appropriate notifications.” It was handy having a powerful warlock in your back pocket. My warlock also happened to be my father, Nikodemus Holland.
“I see.” Again, there was no inflection, just quiet acceptance. I’d yet to figure out why Aurelia kept popping up in my world. I should feel threatened and yet I didn’t. If she’d wanted, Aurelia would have taken me out by now. She had reason to do just that. I was one of the few who knew the secret to her demise, and I was the only one who knew that had the power to act on that knowledge. It would take less than five minutes to return Aurelia’s soul to her body, eliminating all the magical manipulation that made her the powerful djinn she was.
I’d offered to return Aurelia’s humanity. She’d no longer be bound to a master, her will would be her own. She’d be able to live a life of her own choosing and making. She’d also be mortal and without a drop of magic. If I’d been in her shoes, combat boots once again, I’m not certain what I would have done.
As for Aurelia, she’d declined, but I got the feeling the idea wasn’t completely off the table. Maybe that’s why she’d been following me around.
Walking across another grave, I was hit with a wave of sadness. The woman buried below was young when she passed. She’d been buried with her stillborn baby cradled within her arms.
Shaking away the morose feeling, I asked, “How is Peaches?” Peaches was Aurelia’s current master, not that he acted much like one. In fact, he’d given Aurelia a very loose leash. Possibly too loose. So far, Aurelia hadn’t given him cause to reign her back in. I wasn’t sure what would happen should that situation change.
“He is fine. Rutherford Haven has calmed considerably since Alpha Belview’s demise.”
I grunted. “Couldn’t have happened to a more deserving guy.”
“His soul was very black,” Aurelia said by way of agreement. She’d never acted as if Janus’s death was my fault. I’d returned his human soul, destroying his djinn abilities and making him mortal again. Janus had taken that second shot at life and quickly thrown it away by attacking Leon. Turns out, humans, no matter how strong and deranged, don’t stand much chance against three-hundred-year-old vampires and their shifter beloveds.
While Arie Belview had been alive, I hadn’t been able to see his soul. I’d gotten a glimpse of its ugly filth after Queen Silvidia killed him. That brief glance was more than enough.
“I’m glad he’s—” My words caught as something else slammed into my brain. Trinity Holy Cross Cemetery was old and wasn’t accepting any new customers. So why was a freshly deceased soul screaming so loud I was on the verge of a migraine?
“Shit,” I cursed, bending over and placing my hands on my knees. I breathed through my nose and attempted to throw up some mental shields. Given my location, I’d complacently allowed them more slack than typical.
“Erasmus?” Aurelia shifted closer but did nothing more than that.
My gaze raked the ground until I saw the disturbance. “There.” I pointed, walking toward the worn headstone. It was tilted to the side, the ground having shifted over the past century. Just past the new moon, it was too dark for me to see the ground well. Taking out my phone, I turned on the flashlight app and scanned the freshly turned earth.
Inhaling, I let loose another, “Shit.”
“What is it?” Aurelia asked.
I pointed to the ground. “A grave should only have one body. This one has two and its latest occupant has been in residence, one, maybe two weeks.” Rubbing my temple, I frowned. “And from how pissed off they are, I’d bet whoever’s down there met an untimely, grisly end.”
“Are you implying they were murdered?”
“I’m more than implying, Aurelia. Whoever’s down there was definitely murdered.”
Look for Erasmus’s story coming out Summer/Fall 2024