Necromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 6) - Page 63

“Jesus,” Ben exclaimed. “I’m calling the cops.”

“No.” Ivan stilled him with a hand on his arm. “This is bigger than the cops.”

Ben’s eyes were fearful in the bluish light of his phone. “What did you get me involved in?”

“I told you to stay home.” Ivan looked around the open space. “The killer can still be inside. She was alive twenty minutes ago.”

“This is going to look bad, man. First, there’s your call to her phone, then you kick down her door.”

“You’re a witness.”

“I’ll look like a fucking accomplice!”

“Get it together,” Ivan snapped.

Already, the medium’s spirit had left. He could call her back, but with the way her poor body was battered, she’d be disorientated and in shock. Best to leave her be, at least for a couple of days until she’d find her feet on the other side. Then he’d channel her and find out who’d killed her.

With a last look around, certain no one was hiding, Ivan traced his steps back to the car, Ben in tow.

Neither of them said a word until they hit Ivan’s neighborhood.

“Don’t park,” Ivan said. “Pull up front.” With the car idling on the curb, he turned to Ben. “The murder is somehow connected to whoever wants me dead. I know you think I’m stone cold crazy, but trust me on this. It’s too late for her. We can’t bring her back. Calling the cops won’t make a difference one way or another. It’ll just make a bigger mess. I’ll find her killer and the answers I want.” Before then, he’d better figure out how to close the open portal and send a bunch of spirits back to the underworld.

“What now?” Ben asked, clutching the wheel.

“Go to Alice’s house and park out front. Will you be okay to keep guard?”

“Just get out of the fucking car.”

“Ben.”

“I quit. You’re fucking mad.”

Ivan got out with a sigh, closed the door, and leaned through the window. “We have an exclusivity agreement. If you break it, no one in this industry will touch you with a ten-foot pole.”

“You need help, man.” Ben threw him another dirty look before he put the car into gear and took off with screeching tires.

Ivan went back inside, voices following in his wake. They weren’t only growing in number, but also in intensity. It made sense, now. While a portal was open, anyone could stream in. The bigger the amount of souls descending on earth, the more it attracted others, making them aware of the quantum hole. Everyone with unfinished business was going to come back, trying to get someone, someone like him, to deal with it, and there weren’t that many of his kind around. He needed Alice like never before, to know she was safe, but he couldn’t risk being close to her, not while he had shifters, killers, and ghosts on his tail. It would be downright stupid leading them straight to his weakness, as Boris had put it. At least, her father would arrive soon to protect her. What Nicolas had said made sense. He needed someone with Jones’s connections to help him deal with this. Only when he was certain Alice had sufficient protection would he risk being near her, again. It couldn’t be soon enough.

In the privacy of his lounge, he tapped in on the first spirit at hand. It was a young girl with dead eyes and a bright yellow dress.

“What do you want?” he asked, weary to his bones.

“My aunt stole my trust fund money. She was supposed to use it to take care of my brother, but she’s squandering it while he’s going hungry.”

“If I help you, will you willingly return?”

She tilted her head and regarded him with her alabaster eyes. “Can I?”

“I want you to try. The medium who channeled you is dead. I can’t send you back. Do you understand?”

Her expression turned sorrowful. “Then I’m trapped.”

“We’ve got to try.”

“I’ll try, but only if you see that justice is served.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Give me the details.”

For the rest of the night, he logged names, addresses, numbers, and requests in a spreadsheet on his laptop. It went quickly, but solving them would take ages. He’d have to find another solution.

By the time he decided to take a break, it was five in the morning. Alice said her father would arrive around eight. He stood and stretched. Enough of dead people’s company. He needed a reminder of the living, of softness, a gentle smile, and warm body. He dialed Alice’s number.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice sleepy.

“Nothing. Leave your phone on and put it next to you on the pillow.”

“What?”

“I want to hear you breathe.”

“Ivan, you’re crazy.”

The sound of his name on her lips was just right. Perfect.

He chuckled. “So they say. Do it.”

She sighed. “All right.”

He checked to ensure they were still connected. Good, she was an obedient girl. He called up the vibrator app on his phone and selected the special sequence he’d created beforehand. He’d soon know if she’d been as obedient with his earlier request.

Tags: Charmaine Pauls Seven Forbidden Arts Fantasy
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