“But not for feeling it?”
“A man can’t help what he feels. He can only help what hedoes about those feelings. And I’ll never hurt you, Nell, sugar. Not ever, in any way, not even by my natural jealousy. I’ll cut off my hand before I let myself harm you. I’ll cut out my tongue before I let myself speak words that hurt you.”
Tears gathered in my eyes as he spoke. “I love you, cat-man.”
“I love you too, plant-woman.”
“You two finished saying hello and rubbing noses?” T. Laine called from the back door of the house. “I need to update Nell.”
“We’re mostly done,” Occam drawled. “Though that might be speciesist, suggesting we rub noses just because I’m a wereleopard.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Write me up. Turn me in to HR.” T. Laine backed into the kitchen. “I’m making fresh coffee,” she called. “Did you bring anything to eat, Nell? I’m starving.”
Occam and I separated. I said, “There’s a bag in the trunk with sandwiches. I forgot to bring it in. And Occam will have to go get it.” At Occam’s odd look, I said, “FireWind’s clothes are in the passenger seat. He turned into a St. Bernard and is chasing scents in the front pasture.”
“You do realize how weird that sounds,” T. Laine said from the house.
“Yes. I do. And when he’s done, he’ll have to shift back to human and he’ll be naked as a jaybird. I already had to see too many coworkers naked. I don’t particularly want to add FireWind to that list of people I’ve seen in their naked glory.”
There was a chuff of amusement, quickly silenced. “Back in a sec,” Occam said and vanished out the door. I moved across the open space to the house.
“Naked glory,” T. Laine said. “Yeah. I’ll bet he is glorious naked.”
“I thought you were dating Mr. SWAT-Wonderful.”
“I’m not dead,” she said. “I can still dream.”
I decided that was not something I needed to discuss. “The house smells odd,” I said, “dank, like a damp basement. Less likedeath and decay.”
“Yeah. We cut out the carpets and put them into the portable null room, which is why the trailer isn’t at the hospital anymore. But the North Nashville coven got a shield around the slab of the house, and around I-40 where the transport unit died, so the energies aren’t spreading down.”
“Someone might be calling you soon about how to get a null room installed in the para unit at UTMC.”
“’Bout time. We got PsyCSI and a specialized military para hazmat team on the way from Maine. FireWind is worried and wants another set of trained eyes here in case CSI is missing things.”
Occam reentered, his gait cat-smooth, the bag of sandwiches under his arm. “Food. Let’s eat.”
As we demolished the sandwiches, I told them about FireWind and the very expensive dead horse and that we needed to get the paranormal hazmat team to take care of Adrian’s Hell as soon as they got here.
“Can’t wait. We’ll have to handle this ourselves,” T. Laine said, “and put a shield around the energies to contain them. I don’t want thedeath and decayto reach the groundwater.”
A fresh shaft of horror lanced through my chest. “You know forsurethat the energies are moving down into the water tables?”
“The shields we set up seem to be holding, but with magical energies like this? I don’t know. Too bad you can’t burn a melting body. We could set it on fire in situ instead of shoveling it into containers and carting it into the null room.” T. Laine stopped with a meat-filled bun halfway to her mouth. “Wait. That might put the working into the air. Never mind. Astrid and I will put something together.” She took a bite ravenous enough to qualify as a werecat bite. Through the food she added, “We’ll put a shield around the death site until we figure out how to kill it. Because right now, I can’t do jack.”
After that bit of frightening news, we ate and filled each other in on case notes and info we hadn’t had time to read. After we ate, I said I was going to read the houseplants. No one argued, no one suggested the probie should do something else. It was, maybe, the first time I felt like an equal member of the team, exerting power over my own investigative techniques—exciting and a little dangerous.
ELEVEN
There were lots of houseplants on every level, all in the south-facing windows to give them the best sunlight. Someone knew their plants. After a trek through the house to get an overview, I started by reading the plants on the upper level, flipping lights on and off as I moved. The attic library was full of paperbacks, mostly romance and fantasy, with a few thrillers, all by people I had never heard of. There were comfy chairs and two recliners, cozy furniture you could put your feet on. The plants here were flourishing in little blue clay pots in the south dormers, alive and healthy. They were happy plants, the soil the right composition and drainage for species, moisture, and nutrients. I felt like I was getting what might be called a baseline of what the houseplants had been like before thedeath and decayenergies.
Stella had been gone for weeks, but the plants were fine. Someone else took care of them. I assumed it was the housekeeper, but she was dead too so there was no confirming my guess.
Thinking about that, I went down the stairs. Reading plants, touching the soil, occasionally sticking my fingers deeper, invading the root-space. On the bedroom level the plants were less healthy. They drooped even though they didn’t need water. They looked sadder. They felt sadder too, when I touched their soil. I gave each one a little boost, hoping it would be enough. On the main level, all the plants were dying. When I touched the soil, it felt dry and... weak wasn’t exactly the word, but they needed nutrients and water.
As I touched the plants off the kitchen area, I began to feel nauseated. My head started to ache. As I neared the basement stairs, my fingers started to tingle and felt cold to the touch. ButI forced myself to dress out in a spelled uni and gloves, requested a null pen from T. Laine, and went downstairs.
The plants near the basement’s French doors, close to where the bodies had been found, were brown and dead. I thought back. For once I hadn’t noticed the houseplants consciously, my attention on the bodies, but in my memory, they had been green when I was here last. I didn’t touch them, curling my arms around myself in a hug.
