I don’t know that my little speech made Johns feel better, but his solemn nod let me know he’d at least heard me. Shoulders drooped and gait dragging, Johns walked toward his police cruiser.
“He’s a good man,” Boone said, voice soft and too low for Johns to hear.
“One of the best.” Hand squeezing the life out of the shovel handle, I turned to the innocuous patch of weedy ground. “I suppose there’s no time like the present.”
“I can help,” Boone offered.
I considered his offer and shook my head. “Better not. That could come back to bite us in the ass later.” Boone wasn’t officially on the case yet and hadn’t had the kind of training necessary for the situation.
Boone’s grin was lazy. Shoulders relaxed and hands stuffed into his pockets, he rocked back on his heels and ridiculously waggled his eyebrows. “I guess I get to lean back and watch my sexy fiancé work his muscles.” A low whistle escaped his lips. “Mmm, mmm, mmm. A very fine specimen indeed.”
My cheeks heated, their color most likely matching my ginger hair. Boone’s laughter lit the air and lightened my mood. “You’re ridiculous.”
“It’s not just me. You know, Leander still refers to you as my muscle.”
I stopped mid-shovel. “You’re joking.”
“Not even a little,” Boone answered with a shit-eating grin.
Digging in the earth, I grunted. “That just goes to show you Leander’s been living out in the boonies way too long.”
“Nah. It means he’s got eyes and knows a good-looking man when he sees one,” Boone argued, his tone full of affection. “I am a very fortunate necromancer.”
“And I’m a very fortunate human,” I quipped.
Boone’s answering smile was soft. “We’re a fortunate couple.”
“I’ll agree to that.” With one final grin, I turned my attention back to the work at hand and got busy. After all, this body wasn’t going to excavate itself.
“This one’s older,” Dr. Stowe said as she crouched deep in the hole I’d dug. I hadn’t managed the whole thing by myself. This body was buried deep in the earth, deeper than any of the others.
“Older as in she’s been in the ground longer or older as in her physical age when she died?” I asked.
“Yes to the last, and I’m not certain to the first.” Dr. Stowe had a small paintbrush in hand and was meticulously scraping away the dirt around the skull. Dawn had broken and a faint pink haze lit the horizon. More cars arrived, including more CSIs. They had a big job ahead of them. Some had set up stations around individual grave sites. The excavated ground was already being sifted through for evidence that might have been left behind.
“Blond with a hefty dose of gray,” Dr. Stowe mumbled as the victim’s hair was uncovered. “She’s definitely different from the others we’ve recovered.”
I remembered Boone’s earlier comments. “Boone said something similar.”
Dr. Stowe’s head snapped up, her eyebrows raised as she gave me a quizzical look. “He saw the body? I thought he was asleep and—”
“He didn’t see the body.” I shrugged, unsure how Boone’s necromancer abilities worked and finding it difficult to explain. “He said this one felt sad more than angry.”
“Huh.” Dr. Stowe stared down at our victim. “I don’t know what to do with that information.”
“Join the club.”
“If it’s a club run by Necromancer Boone, then I’m honored to be a member.” Dr. Stowe offered me a wink before returning her attention to the remains. “Have you spoken to Captain Cicely yet?”
“About asking Boone to bring back our victims?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Not yet. I’d like us to be in a more controlled setting if possible when Boone brings them back.” I inwardly flinched when I remembered the McCallister case of shredded souls. I could still hear Boone’s screams and see his crumpled body. While something like that ever happening again was slim to none, that didn’t make the possibility zero. I wanted Boone in a safe, controlled environment just in case. Besides, it might be easier for him if all the bodies were in the same room. He wouldn’t bring them back all at once, but he might get a feel for who should go first. Maybe. Honestly, I might be making that up because I hated the idea of Boone working when he was already exhausted—physically and mentally. Whether he wantedto admit it or not, this situation with Huxley was weighing heavily.
And it wasn’t just what Huxley might directly do. Since none of us were certain what Huxley wanted with a necromancer, Boone was understandably reluctant to continue his search for other necromancers. He didn’t want to place anyone else in Huxley’s crosshairs. While that was admirable, Boone hadn’t lost the desire—or the need—to find his fellow necromancers. Nothing had changed. They still needed help. This issue with Huxley could very well delay that help and we could lose more of Boone’s species.
A yawn cracked my jaw, and I leaned heavily on the wall of dirt at my back. God, I was filthy. I needed a shower in the worst way possible. I didn’t know if my clothes were salvageable or if throwing them out would be the best option.
