The tips of Oliver’s ears pinkened. “I guess. Then, you should call me Oliver.”
“Oliver,” Felipe echoed as if turning his name over in his mouth.
Oliver swallowed hard. Hearing his name on the other man’s lips set his body on edge. He shouldn’t think that way, especially now. Galvan would only be alive for a few more days, and the line between dead, undead, and who Oliver was created an uncomfortable grey area. Grey areas tended to lead to trouble, so it couldn’t be. He would simply enjoy their remaining time together as friends and colleagues and be happy with that.
And regret that we didn’t do this sooner, Oliver thought as Galvan smiled at him as he took a bite of chicken. It was so easy to forget the tether lodged in his chest.
“Something I’ve been trying to figure out is,” Felipe said as he set his chopsticks aside, “what Sister Mary Agnes must have done to get her killed. I have been wracking my brain, and I don’t see an obvious answer. We have no evidence that she summoned anything or had any powers of her own. She was a cloistered nun with little interaction with the outside world, so she shouldn’t have done anything to cross anyone.”
“Could she have known too much about something someone else was doing? Maybe the Mother Superior or Father Gareth? Or even one of the other sisters? Blackmail or simply existing with that knowledge is reason enough to kill someone.”
“Perhaps. Well, we’re going to talk to Father Gareth tomorrow, so hopefully we’ll find out something of use. I really don’t feel like spending all day in the West Bronx.”
“Me neither.” Oliver ran a hand through his loose hair as the words tumbled out, “I don’t feel comfortable going to churches either. It’s nothing to do with the building itself, it’s not like I’m going to be struck down by going inside. That’s why I was fine at the monastery. It’s the parishioners.” When Galvan raised a brow, he continued, “When you’re a you-know-what, people treat you like a body snatcher or worse. Like I cavort with the devil or eat children or something. They would bless themselves or spit when I went by. At least, that’s how it was when I was growing up. I know no one at the church will know, but I always worry they can sense it. Some people seem to.”
Galvan nodded thoughtfully. “I can imagine that was difficult. If you want, I can go up to the church and talk to him by myself.”
“I don’t know if that will be possible.”
“What do you mean?”
Oliver worried his lip, keeping his gaze on his bowl. “I’m not sure how far the tether can stretch. Obviously, we can be a room or two apart at least, but I’ve never tested it beyond that. I have no data as to how far it can go before it snaps.”
“There’s nothing in the records about this?”
“I mean, there were supposedly people who could send corpses or skeletons to do their bidding, but you’re far less... decomposed than they were.”
“So we may need to share a room tonight, is what you’re saying.”
The last dumpling unceremoniously shot into Oliver’s lap halfway to his mouth.
“Don’t tell me it didn’t cross your mind,” Galvan replied in a warm whisper.
“It most certainly did not.” Panic lanced through Oliver at every angle as he froze. Sharing Galvan’s room meant potentially not sleeping from being in a new space and being miserable the next day, but the thought of Galvan seeing the room he had cobbled together in a closet was mortifying. And what would happen when he slept? Would his body continue to keep the magic flowing between them or would the tether snap the moment he closed his eyes to sleep? The image of waking up to find Galvan dead in his bed was more than he could bear. Clearing his throat, he said primly, “We’ll figure it out. It isn’t as if you don’t share a room or tent or what-have-you when you’re in the field.”
When Galvan stiffened, Oliver didn’t understand why. “Quite right. Let’s finish up and be on our way, then.”
By the time, they had eaten their fill, the plates were nearly empty and Oliver could scarcely move. Galvan settled the bill, but as Oliver waited for him by the stairs, the other man disappeared behind a beaded curtain at the end of the hall. As Oliver followed, thinking he had misunderstood where the exit was, he could hear the rasp of an older woman’s voice over the din of the kitchen. A woman with Tam’s features but rounder and paler stood talking animatedly with Felipe. They laughed at something Oliver couldn’t hear before Galvan gave the woman a hug and came back into the hall without a word.
Guilt washed over Oliver in a cold wave. Did Tam and his mother know this was goodbye? Would they think back on the last time they spoke with Galvan and feel like he knew this would be the last time they spoke? Felipe Galvan had a life, he had friends, he had people who cared for him beyond familial obligations and even beyond the walls of the Paranormal Society. And at the end of the week, Oliver would be forced to murder him again.
