Chapter 15

" M ija." Pedro greeted me at the open bay door. "What happened?" The cloth he was using, and the part he was polishing, fell with a clatter. "Your face." Careful of my injuries, he used three fingers on my jaw to angle my face this way and that. "What happened?"

"I pranked someone who didn't take the joke well."

"I'll get the ice." He herded me outside again. "Wait on the bench."

With Kierce steering me, I sat like a good little girl. "How are you doing?"

"Well." A faint smile swept across his lips. "Thanks to you."

"What happened back there?" I angled myself toward him. "And will it happen again?"

"Ankou explained how he picks up on prayers and twists them to suit his purpose. I have a similar talent, but I hear those balancing on the precipice of life and death. I'm drawn to them, to ease their passage."

"The way you did with Duncan Phelps?"

Phelps, a vampire, was Lyle Harrow's first victim. Kierce had held Phelps's hand while he bled out in a River Street parking lot. An act of compassion on Kierce's part, yes, but also his calling.

"There was a time when I walked battlefields in search of those voices, to help anyone who called me, but I was young then." His brow slid into neat furrows. "Newly made." His lips pinched. "I didn't understand the width and breadth of death and all its facets."

"I doubt even gods do."

"I believe they did when they were first spoken into existence, but time has eroded their memories." His expression tipped toward shame. "I too grew tired of the cycle of unending loss. I withdrew from this world to salvage my sanity."

"You're in pain every second you're here?"

"To some extent," he answered quietly.

"How will you bear it?"

"You make the sting worthwhile." He traced the creases in my knuckles. "I don't remember how it felt to be a man, how it felt to live or to love." His eyes lifted to mine, and I read the promise there. "But I can learn."

A flutter behind my breastbone warned just how much his words meant to me, but I did my best to keep that rush of emotion from knocking me down. I carried more baggage than Hartsfield-Jackson in Atlanta, the busiest airport in the world. With two siblings who were the center of my universe, no pedigree, weird power fluctuations, and more dead friends than alive ones, I was a lot to take on.

Maybe more than even divine powers could manage.

"Not to devalue myself—I mean, I'm awesome—but are you sure it's worth it? For me?"

He was the Viduus. An icon. A legend.

I was just…me.

"Who said it was for you?" He chuckled at my expression. "Perhaps I meant Josie."

Pinwheeling overhead, Badb croaked a laugh that called him a liar.

"Frankie?" Pedro hustled to us with enough ice to create his own glacier bound in a clean towel from the shop's laundry. "I didn't expect you to actually listen to me." He held the glob to my cheek. "This boy is a good influence on you."

"I'm offended you think I require supervision to be responsible."

But it was hilarious to hear him refer to Kierce as this boy .

" Mija , you're the most responsible person I have ever met." He tweaked my nose with a fond chuckle that made me smile. "Except when it comes to caring for yourself."

"You're just saying that because I've almost died a few times this week."

His concern peering out of my brother's eyes wrecked me.

"Too soon?" I took the ice pack from him so he could straighten. "I promise it's not on purpose."

"You might walk hand in hand with death, but I know you would never follow him home on purpose."

Kierce tensed beside me, but I patted his knee, which didn't help much since he vibrated with strain.

"Are y'all having secret meetings now?" Josie ducked around the corner with a carrot in hand. "I would expect this from Matty the Bratty, but you, Pedro? I thought you had my back." She reached us, and the vegetable tumbled from her fingers as she drank in the sight of me. "Who do I need to murder?"

Just to yank her tail, I said, "Carter."

Upon hearing that, Pedro beat a hasty retreat, proving he was wiser than the rest of us.

A flicker of indecision warred across her features then she squared her shoulders. "I'll get the shovel."

Hmm. Maybe I should invest in a shovel manufacturing plant. You know, to keep up with demand.

"You wouldn't go after Carter." I snared her by the wrist. "You love Carter."

"No. I want to get in Carter's pants. Or get her in mine. I'm not picky." She scowled as Badb swooped in to steal her dropped carrot, which Josie would have one hundred percent dusted off and eaten herself. "You're my sister. I love you. I choose you. Always." She snapped her fingers at Kierce. "You in or out?"

"I'm joking." I nudged her shin with my foot. "Carter did do this to me, but I deserved it."

Once I told her about the jump scare, she agreed I had earned the shiner. That didn't stop her guffawing as I acted out the entire sequence with Kierce's help. She slumped to the dirt in a giggling heap before it was over, which made the hurt worth it. It was good to see her laughing again. Even at my expense.

Though, to be fair, her laughter was usually at my expense.

"Okay." She caught her breath and leaned back, palms in the dirt. "Now that I've got that out of my system, I'm going to need you to wear that shirt again tomorrow, Kierce. I'm out of laughs, but your choice in shirts is refueling me."

Nudging me back onto the bench, he asked her, "What's wrong with my shirt?"

Snorts and grunts poured out of her as she rolled back and forth on the ground like a pig in a sty.

"There's nothing wrong with your shirt." I fixed his collar. "Josie is just being Josie."

A solid five minutes later, she had run out of juice—and air—and rested with tears drying on her cheeks.

"Are you done?" I decided ibuprofen would do me good right about now. "Or do you have more to go?"

Wheezing, she rocked into an upright position and lifted a single finger. She rubbed her throat, rose on wobbly feet, then jogged up the stairs to her apartment.

"I guess we wait." I leaned my shoulder against his. "Or we could hide in the office with the lights out."

"Something tells me she would find us."

The glare off his Hawaiian shirt would lead the way, but I wasn't about to tell him so. "You're right."

An eternity later, when I had gone as long as I could without pain relief, I stood with the intent to wait on her in my air-conditioned office. I made it all of three feet before footsteps pounded on the stairs behind us, and I braced for what had put such pep in her step.

"Found it," she called, as if we had a clue what she meant. "Kierce, ditch that shirt."

Prepared to defend his fashion choices, I squared off against my sister. "Josie…"

"Trust me." She bounced in place. "Frankie will keep your… that …safe."

With more trust than I would have shown her at this point, he shrugged out of his shirt and passed it to me with the solemness of a vow. I set my jaw and nodded, hoping it conveyed I would protect it with my life. What he read in my expression reassured him enough to face Josie.

"One of my exes was big into vintage." She skipped her gaze to mine. "Like Frankie here."

"I wouldn't say I'm big into vintage." I cast heart eyes at my wagon. "My car isn't my entire personality."

"For that to be true, you would have to give her a black-on-black paint job and stencil tombstones on the hood." She twirled her finger, ordering me to turn around and give them privacy. "And if you tried that, I guarantee Pedro would have a heart attack and die on the spot." She cleared her throat. "Again."

Ah, yes, the expected subtle reminder everyone thought my job was my entire personality. I really ought to do more about that one of these days. Except—with the Hawaiian shirt in hand—I could admit that I would be happier if everyone left me to my quirks and quit judging what I wanted against what they wanted for me.

Fabric rustled behind me, and Josie hummed to herself. I heard a snap and then smelled coconut.

"Don't give me that look, mister." Josie made it an order. "Hold still, and it will be over soon."

"What are you doing to him?" The urge to spin back twitched in my spine. "You okay, Kierce?"

His answering grunt did nothing to convince me. Neither did Josie's maniacal laughter.

Badb, who perched on the neighbor's fence with her prize, chortled at him.

"Ready or not," I warned them, "I can't take the suspense."

Sucking in a breath, I pivoted on my heel, braced for anything.

Air leaked out of my lungs as I got an eyeful of the black bowling shirt with red and white flames stitched on the pocket. She had cuffed his jeans so they hit at his ankles, exposing a few inches of his white socks above his sneakers. Based on his slicked-back hair, the tropical smell had been styling gel.

For some reason, my tongue kept sticking to the roof of my mouth. "It's very Danny Zuko."

"But classier ." Josie swept her arm out like a hostess presenting the grand prize on a game show. "All the rebel vibes but none of the telling his buddies you put out for him on the beach this summer."

"Josie." I dropped my face into my hands. "Please stop."

Shackling his wrist, she guided him to the window to see his reflection. "What do you think?"

Kierce studied himself, head tilted, then raked his fingers through his hair. "What do you think, Frankie?"

As much as it pained me to trade in this version of casual Kierce, which, damn Josie, did rev my engine, I didn't have the heart to shame his taste. "I like it." I smoothed his shirt over my arm. "How do you like it?"

"I would wear it." His gaze met mine in the reflection. "For you."

"That sounds like it's not quite your speed." I walked up behind him and eased the fabric down his shoulders with a flush in my cheeks, which was silly. It wasn't like I was undressing him. Before a mental picture formed, I tossed the shirt to a spluttering Josie. "Let's see which you prefer." I guided his arms through the sleeves of his Hawaiian shirt, and the transformation was instantaneous. His earlier pride returned in a rush, the simple joy in his expression enough to silence even Josie. "Looks like we have a winner."

"Suit yourself." Josie slung the shirt over her shoulder. "You're the one who has to be seen in public with him." The petulant expression slid off her face as an engine thrummed behind us. "Incoming."

"Harrow," Kierce inferred from my sigh. "Would you like me to go?"

"Wait for me in the office." I punched the code to let him in. "I don't want this to get ugly."

"All right." He cupped my neck to avoid my injury, and heat tingled where our skin met. "I'll be close."

After securing Kierce, I approached the Chevelle, which spluttered before Harrow killed the engine.

"Carter called me." He winced when he set eyes on me. "She neglected to mention it was this bad."

"It was a dumb thing to do on my part." I readjusted my ice pack. "How is she?"

"It was a dumb thing to do." His gaze traced my injuries. "She'll always crave you now that she's had one taste. That's all it takes. You can't prank her if there's even the remotest chance she'll react in violence."

"I wasn't thinking." I shifted on my feet. "I'll send her a box of apology cheddar puffs."

"Who was that with you a minute ago?" He peered around me. "The tall guy in the Hawaiian shirt?"

Thanking all my lucky stars he hadn't recognized Kierce, I threw out a distraction. "What did Leer want?"

"Carter told you about that?" He ruffled his hair. "What, exactly, did she say?"

"You weren't there when I met her at the morgue, so I asked after you." I was grateful he was avoiding eye contact. "She said you had to see Chief Leer for something. I figured it was probation-period-ending stuff."

"Yeah." He dropped his arm. "Probation stuff." He took the out without blinking. "I hear you got us leads from Maggy. I'll use SPD resources to locate foreclosed homes on Kline and narrow down our choices. I assume it will be you, me, and Carter?"

A slight pause left room for me to volunteer Kierce, but I wasn't about to throw him to the wolves.

"I'm not sure how much help I'll be, but I'm willing to put in the effort. It's my case, after all."

" Our case," he corrected me. "These kids might cooperate if they know you've spoken to Maggy."

"Maybe."

Had Maggy been alive, they would have cut her loose for talking to a cop about them. But it was worth a try. Their little gang was down three girls, possibly more, and they were more likely to trust me than him. Not because he wore a badge and I didn't but because my past had a lot in common with their present.

"That reminds me. I put together a lineup for you." He pulled out his phone and handed it over. "Do any of these girls resemble the asrai?"

"Let's find out." I flipped through them slowly, until I hit on one that tugged on my memory. "I can't swear to it, but her face resembles the creature I saw."

"That's the best we can hope for." He took his phone back. "I'll tag it in the file."

A small van turned into the lot, distracting me from our plans, and a familiar woman exited the vehicle.

Except she was a good two feet taller than the last time I saw her. Must be wearing glamour today.

"Do you know Charity Moore?" I waved to her. "She's a dendrologist."

"Name doesn't ring a bell." He rubbed his jaw. "What's a dendrologist?"

"A tree geek."

"She's here to see Josie?"

I neither confirmed nor denied, but he didn't need me to when all things plants defaulted to Josie.

"I'll leave you ladies to it then." He jingled his keys. "When do you suggest we go visit our new friends?"

"They'll be out hunting at night." For drunk tourists—or careless ones—with cash, cards, or jewelry. "We should hit them early in the morning, catch them as they come home to crash for the day. We can question them about Audrey then. See if she's there or if they know where we can find her."

"That's what I was thinking too." He tipped his head. "Carter and I will pick you up in the morning."

His gaze slid past me, swept over the shop, then traveled up to our apartments.

"I'll be ready." I did my best to project nothing to see here vibes. "Thanks for checking in on me."

"I had to see for myself you were okay," he said, but I didn't think he had really seen me since Lyle died.

Doing my best not to fidget, I linked my fingers at my navel. "I appreciate it."

With a nod, he climbed into the Chevelle and let her idle while he craned his neck toward his windshield.

Curious what had caught his eye, I pivoted to find Badb on the power line, her beady gaze sharp on him.

About to ask if there was anything else he needed, I exhaled in a rush when he pulled out onto the road.

Badb wasted no time landing at my feet and hopping a circle around me, her head bobbing up and down as she examined me. I must have passed muster. I pivoted to locate her, and she was…gone.

Man, that bird could move when she set her mind to it.

I stood there, rolling my shoulders, attempting to slide off the weight of Harrow's searching gaze.

"Ms. Talbot."

That fast, I had forgotten Charity Moore existed, let alone that she was in our parking lot.

"Ms. Moore," I returned the polite greeting. "How can I help you?"

"We're here to examine the subject." She punctuated each word with a specificity conveying how much it grated on her nerves to report to me, not that I had asked her for check-ins before she did whatever it was she did to the tree to gauge its evolution. "Have you noticed any change?"

Ah. That explained it. She wanted me to update her .

"I've had my hands full." I really needed that ibuprofen. "I haven't given it a second thought."

Flaring her delicate nostrils, she acted as though I had just demanded one of her kidneys.

To feed Badb as a snack.

Behind me, the office door opened, and a coconut breeze teased my senses. "Hey, Kierce."

"You've come to inspect my tree?" He cocked his head to one side. "For what reason?"

" Your tree?" Moore spluttered then snarled at me. "How many people have you told?"

Crimson infused her cheeks, and fresh threats poised on the tip of her tongue.

"None." I bottled up my amusement. "How many have you told?"

Her flush brightened to the shine of a ripe tomato fresh from Josie's garden.

"That's classified." She puffed up even more. "I warned you what would happen if?—"

The words cut out as Kierce lifted her off the ground by his grip on her throat. She clawed at him, her eyes bulging, her feet kicking. Tears sprang to her eyes that didn't move him. Not one bit.

The eruption of violence, so unexpected from him, stunned me.

"Threaten her again," he dared her, warning rumbling through his chest.

"Kierce." I found my voice and placed a hand on his arm. "Let her go." I pressed down, and he let me. I guided him until her toes brushed gravel. "She's only doing her job."

"The tree is mine ." He turned her loose then angled his head sideways toward me. "I created it for you."

For me? The tree was a gift? For me ?

Now I felt terrible about revealing it to Moore and earning a paper trail for my troubles.

"Y-y-you created it?" Moore melted into a puddle before him. "Y-y-you're a…?"

For someone who studied divine flora, she didn't act like she had ever met a god.

Or someone god-adjacent.

"I am the personal assistant to a death god who does not suffer fools."

Personal assistant. Her lips moved over the words. Then the last part registered, and her jaw went slack.

"Perhaps it's for the best if you come for your inspection later." I offered her a hand up, and she clung to my fingers like they were individual lifelines, convinced one of them would save her. "Maybe call ahead next time."

Bobbing her head, she backed away until her spine hit the van's panel, and her colleagues yanked her in.

"That was a tad over the top," I remarked as they peeled out of the lot.

"She threatened you." He watched her go, his fingers crackling with energy. "I didn't like it."

Sharp and shattered pieces moved around the chessboard of my heart. I didn't need him to defend me. I would be lying if I said I didn't like it, though. Kierce was so calm, so uncertain. It was nice to watch as he unraveled, proving the tight stitches holding him together had room for give if I kept tugging on them. I wasn't sure what I would find or if I could handle him undone. But I was starting to think I wanted to try.

"There you go with the jealousy again." I rested my head on his shoulder. "So, tell me about my tree."

Turning his face into my hair, he breathed deep, and his posture relaxed a smidge. To know I centered him wasn't a power I was sure I ought to have. I also wasn't certain I would choose to give it up either.

"I couldn't come to you, so I sent this instead."

We stared at the tree together, but I was too curious to savor the moment. "The fire was a nice touch."

"I'm glad you think so." His shoulders shook with laughter. "Did your friend tell you what it does?"

"She was waiting for it to bear fruit."

"That was smart of her." He took my hand. "She was wise to ward it."

"The lightning strike was you." I could accept that part. "Why the cold fire, though?"

"Those flames are a byproduct of my power. They were safe for you to handle if you got curious."

"Me? Ha. Badb would have been smoking like a barbeque chicken if those leaves packed heat."

Her connection to him must have nulled the wards Moore set. Following that logic, the summoning token on my forearm must have been enough of a bond to allow me unfettered access too.

"She knew they wouldn't harm her."

Under the rustling leaves of the elm, or whatever it was now, Kierce examined the lowest limb.

As if sensing his nearness, the leaves burst into flames, fizzling and popping above us.

"The fruit isn't ripe yet." He caressed the bark. "Maybe in another day or two."

For that to be true, the ripened fruit would be half the size of a normal pomegranate.

"Does one eat the fruit? Plant the seeds? Hurl them at one's enemies?"

"One could do those things, but the seeds won't germinate, and your enemies would be more horrified by the stains than harmed by the impact."

"Ah." I stroked the trunk. "This is primarily a snack tree."

"Yes." He strangled on a laugh. "A snack tree."

"Are the fruits' superpower being extra tasty, or do they have divine energy like Moore told me?"

Fingers tracing the brand on my forearm, he said, "You'll have to eat one and find out."

"Can't you give me a teeny-tiny hint? Just one?"

"Once you taste the fruit, you'll have me at your fingertips."

Emboldened by his claim, I pressed my palm to his chest. "Is that a promise?"

"If you want it to be." He rested his hand over mine. "Then yes."

Nothing in life was ever that simple, but as a line? It definitely worked on me.