“Oliver is okay. He just needs a few minutes. You should go eat breakfast and come back when you’re done.”
When Gwen came back alone, she gave him a knowing shrug and a small smile. At least he had time until Felipe came back. Oliver and Gwen ate in companionable silence, and by the time their plates were nothing more than crumbs and residue, the knots in Oliver’s brain and chest had loosened substantially. It felt as if someone had released all the steam he had built up, leaving him empty and raw. While that was better than the alternative, he hated that it had even come to this.
“Thank you, Gwen. I don’t say it enough, but thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. You help me with my asthma and all my library-related injuries, so I think I can run interference for you once in a while.”
Gathering their dishes, Oliver brought them to the sink. He didn’t have to clean them, someone would come and collect them, but he didn’t like leaving a mess for others and doing something mindless with his hands helped quiet his brain. Behind him, he could feel Gwen watching. He had only broken down in front of her a handful of times over the years. He did his best to hide it from others. Most people wouldn’t tolerate his tears or inability to speak; his unsuitable traits had been the downfall of relationships, budding friendships, and even his job, after all. With Gwen, he didn’t want to burden her. They were best friends and they cared for each other, but she shouldn’t have to manage his feelings.
“Galvan asked if you were all right. He must have gotten worried when you didn’t come back upstairs. I don’t know if he totally believed me when I said you were okay. He tried to look over my head to see you.”
Oliver wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he kept his head down and cleaned the last dish again.
“You know, when you said you reanimated him, I didn’t expect him to look so... healthy. He doesn’t look dead, like at all.”
“My theory is that his healing powers are keeping decomposition at bay.”
“But that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
Drying his hands on his shaving towel, he sighed. “Yes, he’s fine for now. I just don’t know what to do, Gwen. Well, I do know. We have to figure out who killed him and Sister Mary Agnes by next Saturday. But what am I going to do with him?”
“A week’s not a very long time. Do you think you can keep him alive a bit longer?”
“I’m already doing it far longer than I ever have before. I worry—”I worry it will get out of hand, he thought, as if that ship hadn’t sailed the moment Galvan woke up. “I worry he will change after a while. Things happen when the dead aren’t allowed to rest. I need help.”
“I can help you. Tell me what you need.”
“Thank you, but I don’t think you can help with this. I wish I had another necromancer to talk to. Unfortunately, there aren’t many of us, and those who are known aren’t known for good reasons. I’m going to see what I can find in the library and archives about it this afternoon. We already planned to go after we return from following up on a lead for the Sister Mary Agnes case.”
“I’m going over to my parents’ house this morning to spend some time with my nieces and nephews, but I could leave early and be back to help you by three or four.”
Oliver shook his head. “I don’t want to take you away from your family. I know Elise and David are only in town for a few weeks. If I don’t find anything, I’ll come back tomorrow when you’re on duty.”
“If you’re sure. Turpin will be there, though. He should be able to help you find whatever you need. He might be more help anyway since he doesn’t need permission to access the special collections.”
The special collections sat in the central hub of the library and archives behind lock, key, and heavy wards. He thought he had glimpsed them once through the open door when he was new to the Paranormal Society. Inside were row upon row of books chained to the shelves or locked inside special cabinets. Even after a decade, Oliver didn’t know if the books were locked to keep them from being stolen or to keep them from escaping. He swallowed hard, wishing that information on his powers didn’t require special permission or special protection. What if Mr. Turpin said no?
“Gwen, I think I may have crossed the line with Felipe.”
“Felipe is it now?”
Oliver’s cheeks pinkened. “There’s a certain level of familiarity that comes with having reanimated someone.” When she gave him a look that said she didn’t buy it, he added, “It was his idea to use our Christian names, but that isn’t the line I crossed. I kissed him last night.”
“After you reanimated him.”
“Yeah, a while after. I worry what that says about me. I— I don’t want to be one of those necromancers who is remembered for taking advantage or doing repugnant things.”
“What you’re doing would be considered repugnant by some even if Galvan wasn’t technically dead, but you don’t seem to care about that. Did Galvan try to stop you?”
“No.”
“Did he not want to kiss you back?”
“No.”
“Did he dislike it?”
“No. He actually offered more, but I held back. Not because of that reason; I forgot myself in the moment and was too overwhelmed to do anything else.”
