Chapter Eight
The Dead Teach the Living
Oliver closed his eyesand tried to keep panic from utterly overtaking him. He had revived someone. He had revivedFelipe Galvan, and he had been too much of a coward to break the connection before things got out of hand. How had he let it get out of hand so quickly? Through the washroom wall, he could hear Felipe singing to himself in Spanish, though he couldn’t understand the words. As Oliver started to relax, he jumped at the squeal of the lavatory door. A puff of steam followed by Galvan clothed in only a loose, brick red dressing gown drifted across the threshold. The other man flinched at the sight of Oliver leaned against the wainscotting.
“Christ almighty, have you been out here the whole time, Barlow?”
Oliver’s eyes dropped to the hard planes of Galvan’s chest, following the trail of dark hair to the belt of his robe until they shot back up to the other man’s furrowed brows. Heat rose in Oliver’s cheeks against his will. “I thought you were washing your face.”
“The blood was all in my hair and down my neck. A bath was easier.” Whipping his damp hair over his ear for emphasis, Galvan led him back to his apartment. As he crossed the sitting room, he paused to stare at the rug. “Where did the blood go?”
“Oh. I cleaned it. It isn’t perfect. I think some of it set, but it’s harder to see now.”
Shaking his head as if clearing his mind, Galvan said, “Thank you. What did you use?”
The flush returned to Oliver’s face as he eyed the makeshift bar. “Your carbonated water. I can buy you more.”
“It’s fine. I probably won’t need it soon, anyway. Let me get dressed.”
When the bedroom door closed, Oliver let out a tired sigh. It would only be a week, no one would know. He was fairly certain Galvan wouldn’t go around telling people he was a reanimated corpse, but if they found out— Sinking into the armchair, Oliver put his head between his knees. He was going to get in so much trouble. He was lucky he didn’t live somewhere like England where they had a unified governing body for paranormal law. The United States was a lawless mess in that regard, but at least he was more likely to be fired and run out of town than executed if they found out he was a practicing reanimator. Even if it was accidental. If Galvan did start decomposing, at least he would look ill and there would be less suspicion of his involvement.
“I’m going to have to falsify my records, too,” Oliver croaked aloud.
“You really are overthinking this.”
Oliver sat up to find Felipe Galvan watching him from the doorway with his curly brown hair artfully tousled across his forehead in a way Oliver couldn’t manage without Gwen’s help. It was amazing how, despite his recent death, Galvan still looked ruggedly handsome and put together. Meanwhile, after washing his face with cold water and tidying his hair while Galvan was in the bath, Oliver looked like he had been dragged behind a trolley. His skin was blotchy from crying and his eyes puffy and irritated. From doing chest compressions, his suit was a rumpled mess, but Oliver was exhausted beyond caring.
“I don’t think I am. This is a big deal. Areallybig deal. This whole situation could get me kicked out of the society.”
“But it won’t because by the end of next week, we will have our culprit and I will go quietly into the grave. We’ll even come up with some logical explanation for my untimely demise. Plenty of middle aged men die suddenly with no nefarious cause,” Galvan said, affixing his cufflinks.
By the glint in his eye, Oliver doubted the man would go quietly anywhere he didn’t want to go. Rubbing his hands across his face, Oliver put his head back down.
“In all the chaos, I never did ask why you came to my room before.”
It all felt so foolish. At least Oliver hadn’t been carrying flowers when he arrived at Felipe Galvan’s door, but now, it seemed so ridiculous to admit he was coming to ask him to have dinner with him. An inconsequential blip in a horrible day. Heat touched the tips of his ears again. Oliver hoped the other man would assume it was just from the blood rushing to his head.
“I... I was going to ask if you wanted to go out to eat. To discuss the case.”
Galvan’s eyes narrowed, but Oliver pointedly ignored his probing stare. “Let’s go, then.”
