Chapter 18

H arrow sat behind the wheel of his Chevelle with only the rear bumper of my wagon visible from his vantage point. I could say that with conviction because I left Kierce in the wagon while I crept around the block to come up behind Harrow. As I strode toward the driver-side window, I popped my hand on his trunk in warning.

Sneaking up on a witch, even one whose first reflex was physical over magical, wasn't smart.

Easy as breathing, Harrow pulled a gun on me. "Frankie?"

"What the hell are you doing?" I ignored the weapon. "Why are you following me?"

"I'm making sure you don't get yourself into the kind of trouble you can't get out of." He returned the gun, horrible thing that it was, to the seat beside him. "You can't help yourself, can you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You see danger, and you run right toward it. You're an adrenaline junkie."

"What danger?" I locked my arm down by my side, but my palm itched to slap him. "Little? Ian? They're kids."

"That's not who I mean, and you know it."

"Ah." Rage shook me so hard, I was surprised my teeth didn't rattle. "This is about Kierce."

"He's dangerous. You shouldn't be gallivanting off into the night alone with him."

"He's no more dangerous than you are or I am."

"He's a god ." He steamrollered my rebuttal. "Don't split hairs with me, Frankie, he's not like us."

"Maybe you're the one who's not like us ."

"You think because you're a necromancer, and he works for Death, that he's anything like you? How old are you? Twelve? Are you that desperate to fit in with the cool kids still? You're not seeing him for what he is, only what you want him to be."

"And what, pray tell, is he?"

"A killer."

"Newsflash." I kicked his tire. "So am I. So are you."

"He killed my uncle," he snarled, smacking his palms on the wheel with bruising force.

"No." I backed away from this person I didn't know anymore. "You did that all on your own."

Nuclear bombs had detonated with less force than the blistering glare he leveled on me.

"Do not walk away from me." He wrenched open his door. "I'm talking to you."

"Oh, I heard you," I tossed over my shoulder. "You just don't have anything to say worth hearing."

A strong arm banded across my waist, yanking me stumbling back as a wide hand covered my mouth.

"I've given up too much for you, for your safety." He dragged me, thrashing and kicking, to the Chevelle. "I won't stand by and watch you throw it away. Throw your life away. He's not worth it."

Done playing nice, I sank my teeth into the meat of his palm. As I tasted blood, he let go. Though he kept his arm around me. I didn't care. I had my hands free. I lifted my forearm as I bit down on my bottom lip, flooding my mouth with copper. I spat on my forearm, watching as a black design flowed over my skin in inky tendrils, praying Kierce would sense it. Then I fell back on a lifetime of fighting off predators.

I gripped Harrow's wrist in one hand, pushing down, while peeling back his thumb with the other.

The shock of pain forced his hold to slip enough I could spin out of it. As soon as I faced him, I kicked him. Hard. Right in the junk. As he bent over to protect his tender bits, I brought my knee up and cracked him in the chin. He toppled backward, a fallen domino, and I restrained myself from a good stomp on his family jewels to drive home the lesson he would never put his hands on me like that again.

A lightning strike cracked the pavement beside Harrow's head as Kierce prowled over to me.

Prowled. Not appeared. His powers must still be too low for flash.

"Hey," I exhaled, breathless. "Thanks for coming."

"You didn't need me." He stopped beside me, staring down at Harrow. "You handle yourself well."

Groaning and rocking, Harrow spat blood onto the asphalt but wisely kept his mouth shut.

"Don't call me. Don't come to my job. Don't show up at my home."

"Frankie," he gasped out. "I'm trying to…protect…you."

"Tonight, she needed protection from you." Kierce stood over him. "Think about that."

"She's not yours." He shoved into a seated position. "She will never be yours."

"Don't make this about me." I held in stubborn tears. "This? Tonight? That was all you."

Ready to go home, to shut the door on this night, I started walking back to the wagon.

"I can leave," Kierce offered from behind me, his voice low, "if it will make things easier."

Easier flew out the window about the time he tried to kiss me, and I realized how much I wanted him to.

After scraping my courage into a pile, I climbed to the top of it. "You're not going anywhere."

"Good." His warm lips brushed my nape. "I'm glad."

"Get in." I couldn't help my voice cracking as tingles shot down my spine. "It's been a long day, and I'm starving."

"Badb fed me sashimi for lunch," he confessed as he rounded the wagon. "Ahi, uni, and tako."

"Raw tuna, raw sea urchin, and…?"

"Raw octopus."

"I've always feared I would be run out of town one day." I fastened my seat belt as he got in next to me. "I figured it would be the talking-to-dead-people thing that got me in trouble. I had no idea a crow with a larcenous streak would be the real cause."

"She bragged on you." He rested his hand on the seat between us. "You took excellent care of her."

"She took better care of herself." I tapped the back of his hand. "You saw the cat bed, right?"

"And the toys." He caught my finger and held it before releasing me. "And the bags of food."

"You can hold my hand." I slanted him a look. "If you want to, I mean."

"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"You're not Harrow." I shivered. "Though I hadn't pegged him as the handsy type until tonight."

"He's made you a symbol."

As much as I wished to deny it, I couldn't shrug off my sour stomach. "Lyle died because he hated me."

"Lyle made you a symbol too." Kierce slid his fingers between mine. "You became the cause of every bad thing in his nephew's life. Perhaps in his too. He hated the otherness in you, and in Harrow. It must have gnawed on his conscience, knowing he couldn't love his own flesh and blood the way he wanted to."

"Does that mean Harrow wants to love me but can't help hating me a little for what I am?"

"He hates himself more." He watched the scenery roll past. "Perhaps he hasn't realized it yet, but in trying so hard to love you, the person he wants most to accept is himself."

"They say with age comes wisdom, but that was deep."

"I prefer observing people to interacting with them. Distance provides clarity."

"Distance also isolates. To always hold yourself apart sounds lonely."

"Most people move in set patterns." He gazed out his window. "Learn to predict them and?—"

"—you can't get hurt?" A flash caught my eye, and I slammed on the brakes. "Good God in Heaven."

Leonard Collins, who must have been waiting for me at the shop, stood in the seat between Kierce and me. Visible from the waist up, he reached over as if to grab my shoulders, but Kierce fisted his shirt first.

"Frankie has had a rough day." He held Collins firm as the spirit gawped at him. "Don't make it worse."

"Mr. Collins." I was content to allow Kierce to restrain him. "What was so important it couldn't wait?"

Another minute, and I would have been parked in my usual spot. There was no cause for theatrics.

"I saw her." He shook off his awe of Kierce and zeroed in on me. "She was with a man."

"Audrey?" I gestured for Kierce to release him. "Where did you see them?"

"At a restaurant right down the road." He vibrated with excitement. "I heard him say it was shut down."

A closed restaurant. Right down the road.

Gooseflesh rippled down my arms as I battled against the certainty of which establishment he meant.

"Describe the man to me." I locked down my fear before it consumed me. "How did he look?"

"I couldn't see him." He couldn't peel his eyes off Kierce. "I heard him."

"He must have used glamour to conceal himself." Kierce frowned. "Do you think he was a witch?"

"I don't know," Mr. Collins admitted. "He could have been talking to her from inside the building. I was a good three or four yards away. I tried to follow them, but I couldn't get through the door."

So maybe not glamour. That was good. It widened the realm of possibilities.

"A ward," I murmured, exchanging a glance with Kierce. "Armie set them in and around his place."

Other spells too. Benign ones. Meant to cool hot shifter tempers among other things.

A thoughtful expression settled over Kierce's features. "When did you see them?"

"An hour ago. Maybe less." His shoulders sagged. "Or maybe it was yesterday. I'm…losing time."

"You're pushing yourself too hard." I respected his drive, but it was dangerous. Spirits who got too desperate or too angry either burned out or used their impotent rage and cruel manner of their death to fuel an evolution to poltergeist or worse. Worse, as in what we had just witnessed with the asrai. "You need to rest and replenish yourself."

"I can't stop until she's safe." His outline juddered. "Please, Frankie, you're my only hope."

Rewind the clock an hour, and I would have been calling Harrow for backup, updating him on the case. It hit me full force how ill-equipped I was to go it alone. Necromancy, for me, wasn't offensive or defensive as far as talents go. Unless I wanted to extinguish a soul, which was a last resort in any situation. I should call Carter, fill her in. Let her pick her side. Me or Harrow.

Not much of a choice, with her acting as his training officer, but I didn't want to see his face. I might claw if off if he got near me. But I had involved him— them . To help me, Harrow made it official. This was their case as much as it was mine. Maybe more, since both of them had the resources of two law enforcement agencies behind them.

"I'll go with you," Kierce reassured me before touching Mr. Collins's forehead. "You will do as she says."

The spirit shattered into motes that spread out in a fine mist then dissolved into nothing.

Until Kierce quirked an eyebrow at me, I hadn't realized I was grinning. "You are so cool."

A flex of his fingers in mine betrayed his surprise. "It's nothing you couldn't do."

"That's the thing. No one else around me can. So, when you do, I'm surprised all over again."

His tipped his chin, studying our hands stacked on the seat, but he didn't speak.

After the big deal Josie made of basing my attraction to him on our shared talents, I could guess why.

"Are you worried that's why I like you?" I braceleted his wrist. "That death is all we have in common?"

The faint tug as he tried to free himself and withdraw was answer enough.

"I'll have you know, I was crushing on you back when Josie was convinced you were a psycho killer." The shock on his face made me laugh. "You were handsome, kind, and peculiar. You were in my favorite place for a stroll, which also spoke to me. I fought against my better judgment to spend time with you." I rolled my shoulder. "I couldn't help my curiosity. I wanted to know you. It drove my siblings crazy."

"How can you be certain that initial attraction wasn't merely a subconscious kinship?"

To make my point, I turned the tables on him. "What first drew you to me?"

"Your beauty." He dipped his gaze then lifted it again. "And then your kindness."

"So, your reaction was superficial."

He scrunched his forehead in consideration, clearly not liking the distilled version of events.

"You saw a pretty girl and decided to engage her in conversation."

"You were more than that." He struggled to find the words. "I can't qualify it, but I knew it."

"Perhaps it was a subconscious kinship ?"

A huff of laughter passed his lips as he considered me. "Perhaps."

"Still want to check out the restaurant with me?"

"As if I would let you go alone."

"One almost kiss," I drawled, "and suddenly you're letting me do things?"

"I spent the day with your sister, and she explained her expectations of me in great detail."

No wonder I hadn't seen hide nor hair of her. She feared for her life. Rightly so.

"Oh Lord." I pulled out of the parking lot onto the road. "Do I want to know?"

"She asked that I not share the specifics with you."

"That tracks." I groaned. "You don't have to keep any promises she conned you into making."

"I made vows, and I will honor them."

A flashback to when Josie was six or seven and obsessed with marriage hit me hard. That kid married her green beans to her mashed potatoes, butterflies to worms, dirt to rocks. Honestly, I was shocked that, as much as Josie loved being in love, she hadn't been married five or six times already. Just for the fun of it.

But those first years on our own taught us intimacy was often transactional, and learning it changed her.

Why that memory struck me now, I blamed on the mental picture I carried all day of Josie playing Barbie with Kierce. I imagined her reciting wedding vows for each of us in silly voices from her childhood games then mashing our faces together while making kissy noises.

"Have I upset you?"

Startled from my reverie, I packed away those silly remembrances. "I was just thinking."

Thankfully, we arrived at Armie's restaurant before I had to go into detail about my fit of nostalgia.

To find the lights off and the lot empty hurt worse than a stubbed toe. I had spent so many happy nights here cutting it up with Matty and Josie while Armie waited on us hand and foot. Just as Armie's soul had been extinguished, the soul of this place had been quenched too.

"We can always come back in the morning."

"On the off chance Mr. Collins was right and he did see Audrey tonight, we should check it out."

"You miss him, don't you?"

"Armie? Yeah. It's hard not to when he was a fixture in our lives for so long."

"Be careful Ankou doesn't wield your affection for him against you. Always remember, he's not the man you thought you knew. He's a threat to you and your family. No matter how much you might want to see the person he showed himself to be, you must reject his attempts to rekindle your bond."

"He used Josie in the worst way a man can use a woman. I will never forgive him for hurting her."

The hurt his charade caused gave me strength to cut ties with what this place had meant to me. I got out and waited on Kierce before we tried the front door. Locked. No surprise there. It was a test to check if a ward or other precaution repelled me. None did. "That's weird."

"There's no ward." Kierce set off down the wide porch, past the bench seating for customers waiting for free tables on busy nights, checking every window. "Is there another entrance?"

"There's one on the side for patrons." I indicated it was ahead. "There's another in back for the staff."

A phone call caused me to hesitate, but it wasn't like we were being quiet. I checked the ID and wished I had let it go to voicemail until I made up my mind how to field the 514's involvement. "Hey, Carter."

"Harrow filed for bereavement leave. Why does this have your name written all over it?"

Closing my eyes, I hated that Harrow had taken such a drastic step, but I was relieved too.

"He followed me to drop off Little. I confronted him. He put his hands on me. I made him regret it."

"Did he hurt you?" A swift promise of vengeance swept across the connection. "Are you okay?"

Oddly enough, her rage comforted me, and I accepted I had been afraid of losing her friendship to him.

"I'm fine," I rasped, my throat tight. "It's nothing I couldn't handle."

"Tell me it wasn't about Kierce." She backed off her growl. "Tell me he didn't throw down with him too."

Ahead of me, Kierce failed to hide his pride in how well I had defended myself. I didn't have the heart to tell him if you stomped a man's nuts, he would crack quicker than an egg tapped on the edge of a mixing bowl. I hadn't done anything any other woman burning with righteous fury couldn't have managed.

"There was no physical altercation between the two of them, no, but Harrow made it plain he considers Kierce the proverbial devil responsible for damning my soul." Dramatic? A bit. But I was still spitting mad at him. "I told him not to contact me and not to show up on my doorstep either."

"I don't blame you."

His actions weren't my fault. I knew that. But it helped hearing she wasn't going to pin his rash actions on me. Her support, and his absence, made it an easy call to confide what we had learned in her.

"You're there now?" She sounded thoughtful. "Call me if you find something or need bail money."

"That's it? You don't want me to stand down? You're not going to burn rubber getting out here?"

"I trust you." She chuckled. "Plus, you've got Kierce."

"You really could have stopped at I trust you ."

"Woman to woman, consider this a gentle reminder not to do anything stupid."

"You definitely could have stopped at I trust you ."

"Pay attention to your surroundings, not to me."

The call ended, feeling like a lesson, but I heeded her advice and pocketed my phone. "Any luck?"

"The windows are locked but unwarded." He hovered his palm above the handle on the side entrance. "It appears this one is as well." He examined the frame and latch before setting off again. "To the back?"

"To the back."

The rev of an engine threatened to give me acid reflux, but the car pulling in wasn't a vintage Chevelle. It was a gleaming Lexus LC 500 in Cloudburst Gray. One I recognized from Lure. "Wait here."

The sporty car parked beside my wagon, and six feet of incubus stepped out with a smile. "Frankie."

"Bash." I met him at the front door. "Does this mean the clan approved your proposal?"

"We made a cash buy last night and took possession earlier today. I noticed a surfeit of security cameras throughout the property, so I turned on the electricity. I wanted to make sure no one gets any ideas before we rebrand and reopen next week." He studied me. "That's how I knew someone was here."

"I apologize for trespassing. I had no idea you would move so quickly."

"You wouldn't be here without a reason." He stepped nearer, and the car auto locked in a flash of lights. "I came to see what tempted you to visit in the middle of the night." He dangled a ring of keys from his fingers with a twitch of his lips. "I thought these might help as well."

"Afraid I'll break windows and let myself in?"

"The thought had crossed my mind."

"I'm here with the blessing of the SPD, if that makes you feel better."

"The police department?" He dropped onto the built-in seating. "What business do they have here?"

With those words, rain threatened to drizzle over his latest venture's parade.

"A girl has gone missing. She was last seen here. I have a friend with SPD. Tilda Carter. Since I live close, and I'm familiar with the property, she asked if I would drive out and have a look. See if I spotted broken windows or signs of entry that might indicate there was a squatter."

"Find anything?" He glanced to his left then his right. "Nothing was out of place earlier."

"We were about to check the back door, but everything else is secure."

"Who's your friend?" Bash did a good job acting like he hadn't been waiting for an opening my slip gave him. "I don't recognize him."

"You may call me Kierce." Kierce halted at the corner. "You're a friend of Frankie's."

"Bash." A white film covered his eyes until he blinked them clear. "Sebastian Ridley."

As often as I had visited Lure, I had witnessed my fair share of incubi and succubae feedings. Whiteouts. That was how I thought of them. An incubi drained of color when their glamour slipped as they hunted. I wasn't an expert, so maybe it wasn't glamour but a shift into another form? Either way, they grew white and cold and clawed and hungry . That flash in Bash's eyes meant he wondered how Kierce might taste.

Which, honestly, made two of us.