It was actually more comfortable once it was only Falin and me again, despite the fact that he was the one who could decide at any moment the danger had gotten too high and drag me to Faerie for my own protection. Maybe it was because he didn’t waste time asking me how I thought this would affect Tongues for the Dead or what I would do if the necromancer tracked me down. He just walked with me back to the house and silently pulled out his laptop as I hooked up my own. He had my back, and for now, that was enough.
We worked in amiable silence for several hours. I spent my time searching for information about the walking dead and necromancy. Most of it was useless fiction or folklore. I did find a couple of press releases from the MCIB, though most dealt with ghouls, which weren’t the type of dead thing we had here. I found very little information on necromancy, as animating corpses was illegal, so what I could find that sounded legitimate was vague at best.
In the immediate aftermath of the Magical Awakening, grave magic had been viewed as no better than necromancy, but the key differences had eventually led to the legalization of grave magic while necromancy was condemned. The biggest deciding factor was likely that grave magic was a wyrd magic, and like any other wyrd magic, the users couldn’t avoid using it. The magic wasn’t learned, it wasn’t a choice. It could be directed, but it still had to be used. So, the OMIH had taken the grave witches in, given us a strict legal and moral code to follow, and certified us to practice. Necromancy, on the other hand, was a purely witch magic. It had to be learned and practiced to have a chance at results. Teaching it was illegal, as was practicing on corpses—human or animal. Of course, being illegal didn’t mean it never cropped up, but it did mean that no practical information on how it worked was available online. Not anywhere I knew how to get to anyway.
I poked around the Dead Club Forums a little, but again, I couldn’t find anything that shed light on what we might be dealing with. Maybe Briar and the MCIB had some top-secret research banks that would provide more information than the general public could access? I dug out my phone, considering calling her, but a glance at the display told me I’d been online a lot longer than I’d thought. It was late. Too late to call with anything short of an emergency, and even if she did answer, I shouldn’t start a new line of research tonight. Who knew what tomorrow would hold? I needed sleep to let my body and my magic recover from the overuse I’d been asking of them the last few days.
“I’m heading back to the castle,” I said, standing. Falin closed his laptop, turning, and I frowned at him. “You can keep working. I can make it back alone.”
“I’m done anyway.”
I shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
We packed up and turned off the lights, heading back to the castle. Falin walked me all the way to my room and even opened the outer door for me.
“Door-to-door service? Don’t you think this is a little bit of an overreaction?”
Falin only smiled. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Then he turned and walked away. On the plus side, at least he hadn’t insisted on standing watch while I slept. Shaking my head, I stepped into my room, shutting the door behind me by shoving it with my foot.
I’d just knelt to greet PC when I realized I wasn’t alone.
I didn’t scream, but it was a near thing. I did jump, but I knew the figure standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed over his chest. Knew him intimately.
“You startled me,” I said, straightening and trying not to look flustered.
“Guilty conscience?” Death asked it with a smile, his voice light, but it still struck me as a real question.
“Long day.”
He nodded toward the door. “What was that about?”
I set the laptop down on a small end table. “The case I’m working got dangerous, so now I have a babysitter.” I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, but the look on Death’s face was equal parts concern for me, and what I guessed was distaste for Falin. Annoyance bubbled up in me at his jealousy. After all, I had no idea where he went or with whom, but I wasn’t jealous. He visited when he could, which usually wasn’t often, and I couldn’t even contact him. Oh, but he had a freaking tracking spell on me—a fact we mostly glossed over and that I force-categorized under “a good thing” as it allowed him to find me since I couldn’t locate him. And yet he was judging who was watching my back when he wasn’t around?
“Did you find out something new about the ghosts navigating the bodies?” I asked, hearing the edge in my own voice.
“I didn’t come to talk about your case,” he said, stepping toward me. The smoldering grin he shot me normally would have weakened my knees, but today I wasn’t feeling it.
“I’m tired,” I said, stepping around the arms that reached for me.
“What happened today? Are you okay?”
I whirled around to face him. “What, because I don’t want to have sex whenever you decide to come around, something must be wrong?” If I had slapped him, he couldn’t have looked more surprised. Or hurt. I took a deep breath. “That was uncalled for,” I said, forcing my features to soften, to convey the apology I wasn’t saying. “Like I said, it was a long day.”
“Want to talk about it?” He stepped toward me again, more tentatively, as if I were some delicate creature that might fall apart if he was too aggressive. I was feeling rather fragile at the moment, so maybe he wasn’t completely wrong.
I met him halfway, accepting the embrace and the chaste kiss he offered. But when I stepped back to gaze up into those worried hazel eyes, I said, “I actually don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m honestly exhausted.”
“Okay, but I’m here until I get called away again. May I hold you at least?”
I nodded. I was emotionally and physically over this day, but being held sounded nice. I led him to my bedroom and then quickly changed into the pajamas laid out on my nightstand.
True to his word, he held me, but less true to mine, I found myself talking.
“I saw animal ghosts today. And an animal soul collector. He looked like a giant raven.” A yawn forced my jaw to crack open. Death didn’t say anything, just stroked my hair with one hand as he held me close. I found myself telling him about the clearing, about what I’d seen. And about what I’d done. He was my closest friend. My confidant. It felt right to share with him my fears, my self-revulsion, and my concerns about Briar’s little bait plan. He didn’t interrupt but murmured soft, mostly nonsensical sounds of comfort. Listening, and letting me get it all out. I’d barely finished the story when he kissed me, his irises spinning with a kaleidoscope of colors.
“You have to go,” I whispered.
He nodded and kissed me again.
“You should rest,” he whispered. Then he was gone.
Chapter 17
I woke to the sound of sirens.
It was still dark outside my window, and I was alone in my bed aside from my dog. PC stood on the pillow beside my head, his ears pressed against his head as he whined about the sound. A light flashed on my dresser, and I scrambled out of bed, stumbling across the room to find the source of the light and sound.