“How are you doing?” Franklin asked, concern lacing those few words.
“Better now that I’m not holding onto Clarissa’s soul.” It hadn’t left the same foul taint that Gladys’s soul had, which was a blessing. The weights their souls carried were very different. Clarissa’s was like an exploding firework—there and gone, leaving a painful ringing in your ears. Gladys’s was like thick tar, sticking to all my surfaces and leaving a lingering, bad taste. As painful as Clarissa’s explosions had been, I much preferred them over souls like Gladys’s.
“Do you need a breather?” Loretta asked.
“Or maybe a day or two?” Franklin added.
I settled my palm on Franklin’s large bicep, running my fingers up and down his arm. I hoped my affection andappreciation could be seen in my grateful smile. “I’m good, but thank you for asking.”
“Are you sure. We can wait if—”
“No.” I shook my head while heading back to the remaining skeletal remains. “I’d like to get this over with and give you guys some answers.” I had a sinking suspicion it wasn’t answers I’d be giving, but more questions. Sometimes, it really sucked being right.
“What the hell is going on?” Loretta asked. She was a petite witch, and her office chair seemed to swallow her whole. The chair was definitely more Franklin-sized, unlike the chairs he and I were currently occupying on the opposite side of Loretta’s desk. She’d ushered us into her office after I let the final soul go. The wooden chair my ass was parked in wasn’t that comfortable, but I was currently too drained to give a shit. Sitting down felt too good to care what the surface was.
“I don’t know,” Franklin answered, frustration adding sting to those three words. “Six bodies. Six different states. Four different known suspects.”
Four of the six souls thought they knew their murderer. The other two had no idea.
“And yet none of them actually saw their attacker,” Loretta said, her fingers threaded together and holding up her chin.
Franklin grunted, his words unintelligible.
The room quieted before Loretta’s deep brown eyes tracked my direction. “What do you make of this, Erasmus?”
I shifted with unease. “I’m not sure. All I can tell you is that none of them were lying. Four of those women are absolutely certain they know who killed them.”
Loretta dropped her hands and leaned back into her chair. Fingers tapping along the armrests, Loretta’s gaze appeared far away. “There’s one thing they all have in common.”
“Two,” Franklin corrected, and when Loretta questioningly stared at him, Franklin clarified. “Their manner of death and where they were found.”
“True,” Loretta agreed. “Those two things aren’t a coincidence. These women are linked by something.” She blew out a tired breath. “Each and every one said the same thing—they couldn’t breathe.” Loretta shuddered. “Gaia, what is wrong with the world?”
“That road is a one-way trip to frustrated insanity.” Franklin rubbed his hand over his head and chin. His close-cropped hair bristled, and his five-o’clock shadow sounded rough against his palm. Reaching over, I placed a hand on his thigh and squeezed. My man cared so damn much. It was a good trait in a homicide detective. It was also mentally and emotionally wearing.
The room quieted again, each of us lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Loretta startled, as if coming back to the here and now. “It’s been a long day. Let’s get out of here and start fresh tomorrow.” Pointedly looking at Franklin and me, Loretta added, “I doubt the two of you have gotten a lot of sleep. Get out of here and rectify that situation.”
Franklin stood, a few pops and groans echoing around the room as he stretched his body. Arm outstretched, Franklin offered me his hand. I started to reach for it but stopped. Understandably confused, Franklin stared down at me and simply questioned, “Boone?”
I debated for half a second before activating Pops’s silencing charm and word vomiting what had been weighing on my mind. “Loretta, what do you know about Ajita?”
Loretta Cicely’s deep frown and pinched eyes indicated her obvious confusion. “Who?”
I swallowed hard and repeated the name. “Ajita.”
Loretta glanced Franklin’s direction. His shrug indicated he had no idea what I was talking about. “I guess the answer is nothing, considering I’ve never heard that name before. Is this a body you’ve found or a case you’re working on?”
“I…” I hesitated for a moment before spilling the djinn beans. Franklin slowly sank back into the chair beside me, a softly plaintive “Christ” slipping through his lips. Loretta’s deep brown skin turned ashen. Her expressive eyes pained and filled with something I couldn’t identify and had never seen before.
“Dear Gaia,” Loretta whispered when I’d finished relating what I’d learned from Aurelia. “A witch was the first. She… I had no idea. I don’t even know what to say to that.” Lost. That’s the emotion I hadn’t been able to identify. Loretta looked completely lost. “I suppose it makes some type of twisted sense.”
“How do you figure?” Franklin asked. His tone wasn’t accusing, but more curious than anything.
Loretta shrugged and once again her eyes held that faraway look. “Power. I’m ashamed to say it, but the witches of that era craved power over anything else. Why give that power away if you can claim it yourself.”
Franklin sucked in a heated breath. “Shit. I never thought of that.”
“Most wouldn’t,” Loretta answered. “I wish my ancestors never had. But we can’t go back in time and change the past. All we can hope to do is learn from it, grow, and not repeat past atrocities. As you both know, much of what is known regarding djinn creation and their history has been purged from our archives and grimoires.”
