Chapter 13
I lay in the darkness trembling, trying to find the strength to sit up. I couldn’t find it. So I lay there on the dusty floor. In a borrowed dress. With a roomful of pissed-off cops on the other side of the wall.
“What the hell are you doing in my crime scene!”
Scratch that. The most pissed-off cop of all was now in the room with me.
With my grave-sight gone, I was completely blind, but I didn’t need my eyes to recognize that voice—Falin had yelled at me enough in our short acquaintance that it was ingrained in my memory.
I’d have liked to be nonchalant, but I’d exchanged essences with Death, been attacked by a malevolent spell, created a ghost, gotten my own essence back, and then had a seizure. The past ten minutes had been rough. I wasn’t up for snappy comebacks. Hell—I was barely up to breathing.
So I just continued doing exactly what I had been doing. I lay there and trembled.
“Get up,” Falin commanded. “Get up.”
He reached down, grabbing my elbow, and his gloved hand burned my arm like a branding iron. I yelped, the pain making my eyes sting with tears.
Falin jerked back. “Damn, you’re freezing.”
I heard his steps move farther into the room, circle back. When he spoke again, I could tell he’d crouched near me. “What the hell happened in there? Who was that man, and where did he go?”
I didn’t say anything.
“Answer me,Alex Craft, or so help me …” He left the rest of the threat to my imagination.
“I can’t.”
There was a long pause after I spoke. Then he said, “Fine.”
His hand locked on my arm again, but this time his touch wasn’t blisteringly hot. My temperature couldn’t have risen that fast; how did he … Body temperature wasn’t what I should have been worrying about. Something hard and metallic snapped around one wrist, then around my other wrist.
Handcuffs? Oh crap, he’s arresting me.
“Get up,” he said again, and dragged me by my cuffed arms to a sitting position.
I tried to get my feet under me, but there was no doing it. My legs were like jelly, and I couldn’t stop shaking.
Falin seemed to realize the futility as well, because he leaned me back against the wall.
“I’ve seen you after raising a shade before. You weren’t this bad off.”
“Wasn’t a shade.” But I couldn’t say anything more.
The oath bound my tongue. I drew in a deep breath and leaned my head against the wall. My cheeks felt sticky.
Tears were still leaking from my eyes, mixing with the dust. I moved to scrub the gritty mess away, but my hands were cuffed behind my back. The effort almost toppled me to the floor. Falin’s hands steadied me.
There was a rustling sound in front of me; then fabric fell around my shoulders. Falin’s tux jacket? He tucked it around me. I didn’t feel any warmer for his effort.
“You can’t see a thing, can you?” he asked.
“It’s dark in here.”
“Alex, I have my flashlight pointed at you.”
I blinked. He had light pointed at me? All I could see was complete and unbroken darkness. I’d never been this blind after touching the grave. Never.
“I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“No!” The last thing I needed was another hospital bill. I just wanted to be able to see again, and to not be cold, and to stand on my own, and … Besides, even if he took me to the hospital in the Magic Quarter, I doubted they’d ever treated anyone who’d exchanged life essence with a soul collector. “I just want to go home.”
“You can’t. Alex, you broke into a crime scene and tampered with evidence.”
“I had to. The victim …” Again the oath bound my tongue. “I just had to. Believe me. And don’t let anyone touch the body. You need an anti– black magic unit.”
“They already cleared the scene.”
My mouth fell slack. How could they have cleared it?
“But the spells are active. And the furniture … nothing is in that room but the woman and a folding table.” I hadn’t been sure I would be able to say that last part, but apparently seeing through the illusion wasn’t included in Death’s secrets.
Falin’s footsteps led away from me as he walked into the other room. Minutes passed. If I stop trembling, I’ll probably fall asleep. Not that the idea of falling asleep on the floor thrilled me. But I was tired. More than that, though, I was cold. Had I ever been this cold before?
Commotion picked up in the room behind me. People leaving. Falin’s clearing the scene?
The other room was quiet by the time footsteps drew near me again. “The anti– black magic unit is on their way. I’m getting you out of here.”
Then Falin picked me up. He carried me out of the crime scene, his jacket still draped around me and my hands cuffed behind my back.
———
“Where are we?” I asked as Falin’s keys jingled. He’d taken the cuffs off me once we’d reached his car, and wherever we were now was too quiet to be a police station.
“My apartment,” he said, and I heard the door open. He helped me hobble inside, then deposited me on a plush couch.
“And why am I here?”
“Because you won’t let me take you to the hospital, and I’m not leaving you alone in your condition. Now, stay put.”
I nestled into the cushy couch. I wasn’t sure where he thought I’d go. I was in a strange place, I couldn’t see, and I could barely hold myself up. Not exactly the perfect condition for snooping.
The smell of coffee permeated the air, and a hinge squeaked as a cabinet opened. The couch cushion moved as he sat. He lifted my hand, pressing a coffee mug into it.
The mug was hot. Way too hot. I winced, pulling back, and the couch cushion moved again. There was a soft clink as he set the mug on a flat surface.
A door opened somewhere to my left, and I jumped, blinking in the darkness that filled my eyes. Something large and soft fell around my shoulders. Blanket? Falin wrapped it around me, then pressed his hand against my forehead.
“This can’t be natural.”
“I’m okay. I just need …” I wasn’t sure what I needed.
A couple of stiff drinks and another body against my skin to warm me would be a good start, but I couldn’t really say that.
He moved away again, and I heard water running.
When he returned, he pressed something wet against my cheek. I jerked back.
“Stay still,” he said, and pressed the damp rag against my cheek again, wiping away the grit from the warehouse.
“I’m not an invalid,” I said, trying to take the rag away from him. He was starting to freak me out.
“Fine.” He gave it to me, and I scrubbed at my face until my cheeks felt raw. Then I shrugged out of the blanket and rubbed the cloth over my bare shoulders and arms.
When I was done, I realized I had no idea what to do with the rag now. Falin took it from my hand and replaced it with a dry towel.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I asked.
He was silent a long time. “Maybe I just intend to get answers out of you.”
Now, that I believed. I pulled my knees to my chest and dragged the blanket tighter. “I’ll tell you what I can.”
“Yes, you will.” His hand moved to my face, his touch gentle as his palm cupped my cheek.
My first instinct was to pull away, but his hand was warm, and I so desperately wanted to be warm.
“Why did you break into my crime scene?”
“Initially because I recognized the warehouse. It is the same one Coleman used when he stole his new body.”
“And how do you know that?”
I told him about Roy and my first trip to the warehouse. When I finished talking, I frowned. I’d said more than I wanted. A whole lot more. I’d practically put everything I knew on the table. “You’re using a truthseeking spell on me.”
“Yes.” He didn’t pause. “You said that was only your initial reason. What were the other reasons?”
I opened my mouth. Closed it. The spell compelled me to answer. My oath bound my tongue. The words felt as though they were being forced up my throat and then tied in knots. I gritted my teeth. How dare he use a spell on me? But I couldn’t not answer. Finally I said,“A favor for a friend. Why can’t I feel the spell you’re using?”
“It’s my personal magic. You’re not attuned to it,” he said.
He answered truthfully? So the spell goes both ways.
He hurried on with his next question before I could say anything. “Was this friend the man in the warehouse?”
“I’m oath-bound not to say. How—”
He spoke over me, cutting me off.“Did this man have anything to do with the murder?”
“No. He was there to help. We helped her. How—”
His other hand covered my mouth. “Nod yes or no. The oath is preventing you from telling me about the man and what his purpose was there?”
My head nodded as if I had no control over it. Damn.
I grabbed at his wrist, trying to rip it from my mouth, but I was trembling and weak. His hand didn’t move. Dammit.
It’s my turn to get some answers. But it wasn’t, not unless he could hear my question.
“Do you know what the ritual was for?”
I nodded, then shook my head. Finally I shrugged.
How’s that for indecision?
Falin growled with frustration and dropped the hand over my mouth. “Explain.”
“I know what one spell was meant to do, but there were more spells in that circle. And I don’t know why the spell was cast.” I stopped. I’d barely considered it until I said it, but there had to be a reason why someone would cast a soul-consuming spell. John had said Bethany was the third body they’d found with the same MO, and I was positive that if the ritual hadn’t been interrupted tonight, this victim would have been cleaned up and dumped just like the first three. That was four victims in a short amount of time. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that Coleman had used the same warehouse, the very same circle, for his body switch.
“The case John was working, the three body dumps— when was the first victim found?”
Falin was silent a moment, as though he had to try to remember. “He was working on it when I transferred into the department, so it was at least two weeks ago.”
Before Coleman was shot.
His fingers on my face tensed. “Why? What are you thinking?”
“Those bodies probably had glyphs cut into them. You’ll find that tonight’s victim does as well. The spell—”
The oath wouldn’t let me say anything about the soulconsuming spell. But souls were full of life, energy. If that energy was being consumed, it had to be going somewhere. “I think the murders are preparation work. I think there will be a really big, really nasty ritual. And I think it will happen soon.”
Falin’s hand fell from my face, and the cushion moved as he leaned back on the couch. “I should never have called you a magic eye.”
I smiled, stupidly pleased my deductions had impressed him. “That’s almost an apology.” Hopefully I’m right. I grimaced. Or maybe I didn’t hope that. If soul-sucking spells were leading up to something really nasty, I didn’t want to be anywhere nearby when it was unleashed.
I rubbed the scratches on my shoulder. Of course, that might not be an issue. I was running on a time limit now. And fueling the killer’s damn ritual. I tugged the blanket tighter around myself.
“We should both get some sleep,” Falin said, and I heard him walk across the room. A drawer opened and clothing rustled as he changed. “I have some sweats you can borrow to sleep in.”
“Uh, thanks?” I accepted the clothes when he pressed them in my hands, but to my embarrassment, I ended up needing help getting into them and out of my dress.
Once I was clothed again, the silence stretched. Did he go to bed already? Then he spoke. “Would my body heat help you tonight?”
A sound broke from my throat that was half-strangled laugh and half choke. “Wow, that’s awkward.”
“Yes or no.”
I nodded. “Yes.” I really did need the warmth. It had been over an hour since Death left, and I was still trembling.
I felt Falin move onto the couch. His arm slipped under my legs, and he turned me, moving me lengthways along the plush back of the couch. He curled along my back, dragging me against his chest with a strong arm around my waist. He was warm, so very blessedly warm.
But spooning with someone I hadn’t had sex with? Majorly awkward. And the feel of the couch cushions in front of me and him behind? Slightly claustrophobic.
“Um, wouldn’t this be easier in your bed than on the couch?”
“I don’t own a bed.”
“What?”
His jaw cracked as he yawned. “Got rid of it. Now, go to sleep, Alexis.”
———
I jolted awake. A scene of myself, thin and vaporish outside my body with dark glyphs sucking away my soul, still played in my mind. A dream. But not one that faded in the weak morning light that streamed in through a large sliding-glass door. I rubbed my bleary eyes and then blinked, staring at the unfamiliar green microfiber cushion in front of my nose. Where am I?
Falin’s apartment. But I was alone on the couch.
I sat up—probably a little too fast. My vision swam, but then it cleared again, bringing the one-room apartment into focus. A grin broke over my face. Seeing is a glorious thing.
I looked around. There wasn’t much to the small apartment. The couch I’d slept on took up most of one wall; a dresser with a TV on top was directly across from it. A computer desk was tucked away in one corner, and a small card table with two chairs around it took up the other corner. There was a door on the opposite wall from the couch, and the smell of coffee—and is that bacon?—emanated from it. There was also a door on the same wall as the couch, and I hoped it was the bathroom.
I pushed to my feet. My legs protested, quivering under me, but they held. My whole body was tight, sore, as if I’d gotten a strenuous workout, and my movements were far from smooth. I wanted a hot shower, but I didn’t think that was an option. I made a quick stop at the bathroom. After washing my face, rinsing my mouth, and trying to do something with my hair before pulling the mess of dirty blond curls back into a ponytail, I headed for the kitchen.
Falin was standing over the stove. He looked up as I shambled in. “Morning. How are you feeling?”
“Fine. I …” I stopped. Falin had showered, and his damp hair hung loose over his shoulders. The blond strands had seeped moisture into his oxford, which was unbuttoned and gave me a clear view of his chest.
I couldn’t tell if the skin over his cut muscles was as smooth as it looked or if he had fine blond hair, but I could imagine my hands sliding from his chest to his abs and finding out.
Falin frowned at me. “Can you see this morning?”
Oh yeah. I could see. I could definitely see. I nodded, tearing my gaze away and making a beeline for the coffee maker so he wouldn’t notice the color in my cheeks. I ran into a problem—I had no idea where the mugs were.
“Cabinet over your head,” Falin said before I had to ask. “How do you like your eggs?”
I poured my coffee. “Listen, it was really nice of you to take care of me last night.” And to not arrest me. “But I think this has gotten awkward enough. If you point me toward the bus line, I’ll get out of here.” I had a lot to look into, and PC had to be pacing anxiously, waiting for a walk and food.
“It’s just breakfast. Have some food; then I’ll drop you at your house before I head to the station.”
The food did smell amazing. I couldn’t seriously refuse real food, and having a full stomach could only help my investigation into Coleman. I rubbed the scratches on my shoulder. But after I changed and showered, there was a detour I needed to make. I was on an unknown timeline, and I had someone I needed to visit.
Just in case.
I smiled at Falin around the rim of my mug. “All right—breakfast.”