Before Momma or Pops could argue, Franklin’s chest stuttered before he let loose a final exhale. Still gripping his hand tight, I used my other hand to feel for Franklin’s pulse. It was sluggish, nearly to the point of death.
“I could turn him,” Leon offered. “Franklin can be given a second life. If that is your choice, it must be now. His heart has almost beat its last.”
It was a kind offer. I might have been smarter to take it. I’d never tried something like this before and had no idea if it would work or not. Maybe if Franklin and I’d had that discussion before, I would have been willing to let Leon turn him. But we hadn’t, and I wasn’t.
“Thank you, Leon. It’s a generous offer, but Franklin’s heart will beat again—strong and steady.”
“Son.” Pops’s fingers squeezed my wrist tighter. “His body will be gone. You can bring his soul back, but he won’t—”
“Franklin’s soul isn’t going anywhere,” I insisted. “I won’t let it.”
“But I…” Pops was at a rare loss for words.
“Curious.” Hikaru sounded everywhere and nowhere at once. “I will stay a little longer and see how this plays out.”
Pops was instantly furious. “This isn’t a damn game! This is my son and—”
“He’s gone.” Franklin’s heart stopped, his chest eerily silent. I’d lost count of the number of times I’d lain with my ear against Franklin’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. I’d always thought it was a big heart. It had to be to make Franklin who he was. I’d thought that heart would keep soothing me for decades to come. I’d been wrong but intended to make sure I righted that wrong.
I’d felt souls leave the body before. I’d always let them go. It was the natural way of the world. Death always came calling. Not even fairies were immune. Maybe Tenzen Huxley was, but I had a feeling that by the time Aurelia and Helios were done with him, he’d wish Death would find and claim him.
Franklin’s soul was even more warm and soothing than I’d imagined. My Gaia-given necromancer abilities flared. I didn’t hold onto souls often. I called them back to their bodies or whatever remained. I didn’t want to do that to Franklin. When his soul reentered his shell, it would be to a healed body with a beating heart.
“Told you I wasn’t letting you go.” My eyes slipped closed as I allowed the incredible warmth of Franklin’s soul to fill me. I’d never doubted Franklin’s love—he’d never given me a reason to doubt. If I had, those doubts would be eradicated.
Laughter echoed from deep within my soul. “He’s… His soul is everything.” I didn’t know how else to say it. I wanted to bask in its radiance. I wanted to join our souls together and allow them to float into eternity.
I was lost to the feeling, tugging against Death’s grip, keeping Franklin’s soul tethered to me. Momma’s gasped “Deni?” barely registered on the periphery of my senses.
“I brought Poppa,” Deni said. I had no idea who Deni was. Momma seemed to, and when Pops questioned, “A brownie?” I had my answer to his species.
Small, dark brown hands entered my field of vision as they hovered over Franklin’s chest. “I’m sorry.” This voice was a little deeper than Deni’s. “I’m afraid we arrived too late. My affinity is for healing, but he’s beyond that now.”
“We know.” Momma sounded far away, as if she were floating on a raft in a great ocean, the current pulling her away.
“But this one I can help.” I wasn’t sure who the brownie spoke of. I wasn’t aware enough to know, understand, or care. All I knew was that Aurelia needed to return. There was no backup plan, no second option. She’d done it before. Peaches had told me the story of how Warlock Vander Kines and a witch had removed one of Aurelia’s restrictions, allowing her to bring back the dead.
Doubt tried to filter in, attacking my will and connection with Franklin’s soul. I pushed it away, unwilling to give up. There was no choice, no true option.
“Move.” That one word was spoken with the confidence and disinterest only a djinn could wield.
For once, Pops didn’t question. He did as told, and when I opened my eyes, it wasn’t Pops I was staring at, but Aurelia’s brilliantly beautiful Caribbean blue eyes. “A-Aurelia.” Her name was little more than a choked gasp. “Can you…? Will you…? He’s gone. I can’t…”
I couldn’t remember a time when Aurelia touched me. Today was different. Her fingers found their way to mine, lightly lying over the hand I still had clasped with Franklin’s. A long tailwound around her arm, Fuzzy Britches on her shoulder. Looked like the little scuttlebutt was alive and well.
“You have his soul?” Aurelia asked.
My grin was wistful. “I do. It’s beautiful.”
Aurelia’s face softened, its typical harshness momentarily forgotten. “Then let us bring him back to you. I will not allow shadow borne this victory.”
Auditory gasps echoed my own relieved one. I’d kept the doubt at bay, but it had slithered its nasty tentacles inside anyway. “Is it possible?”
“We will find out.”
I eagerly nodded. I’d thought myself cried out, but the wetness dripping down my cheeks spoke otherwise. “We’ll need to time it just right. I don’t know if I can bring a soul back to a living body. It might be possible, but…”
“I will tell you when.”
