“Uncomfortable, but talking to Gwen made me feel better. She also brought me coffee and this.”
The smile dropped from Felipe’s face upon seeing the case notes.
“Is every report full of falsehoods or do we just have a complicated relationship with the truth?” At Felipe’s stricken look, Oliver said softer, “I completely understand why you omitted the necromancy and stabbing me, but I’m beginning to wonder if everyone here lies in their reports except me.”
“Most of us lie to make ourselves look better or at least not incompetent. Being compulsed and stabbing your partner isn’t the most flattering thing to report, especially after shooting your previous partner the day before.”
Oliver hated seeing the pain and guilt on Felipe’s face. He had apologized multiple times since Thursday night, and every time he helped Oliver clean or redress his wound, Oliver saw that flicker of horror resurface. Felipe might have stabbed him, but he also saved him. Oliver just needed to know how. Slowly shuffling to the end of his seat, Oliver took Felipe’s hands in his.
“Felipe, what happened in the cathedral? The wound should have been a fatal one. You did something that saved my life, but you won’t tell me what and I don’t understand why. I don’t mind if you lie to them, but please don’t lie to me.”
Felipe’s lip trembled as he stared into the fireplace for a long moment. Oliver worried he might have pushed too hard when Felipe tightened his grip on his hand.
“I’m afraid you won’t look at me the same way after.”
“Why would I, of all people, do that? Whatever you did saved my life.”
“I ate the heart,” he croaked.
Releasing a sigh of relief, Oliver slumped back. “Oh, thank god. I thought that thing might be inside me.”
“No, it’s inmebecause I ate it! Aren’t you appalled? I ate a two hundred year old honey-soaked heart.”
“To heighten your healing and save my life. That’s as good a reason as any to eat a mellified heart.” Waving a dismissive hand, Oliver pulled his blanket closer. “Besides, a few centuries ago mellified body parts were supposedly eaten as medicine. It wasn’t until very recently that we’ve gotten squeamish about other people’s cast-offs.”
“I think I might prefer it if you were a little less comfortable with this.”
“You don’t understand, I’ve been worrying that the relic might start rotting inside me one day. The heart should pass through you without issue.”
“No more heart talk, please.” At Oliver’s pained, playful laugh, Felipe released a resigned sigh and poured each of them a cup of coffee from the carafe. “While I’m glad you’re taking this better than I expected, there is something important I want to discuss with you. Before I say anything, I want to be clear you can say no and that I want you to pick the optionyouare comfortable with.”
Panic fluttered through Oliver’s chest only to be met with Felipe’s anxiety on the other side of the tether. Felipe had kept his word about these things, and he would trust him to mean what he said. “Okay.”
“So I was talking to the head inspector about partial retirement, meaning no more cases where I’m running across the country for months on end. I obviously can’t do that anymore due to the tether, but even before all of this, I was getting tired of being away from my family for months at a time and never being able to have a life. For all his issues, Jed was right. Most of us in this line of work don’t live long enough to retire, and I don’t want to go out in a blaze of glory regretting I didn’t stop sooner. I want to spend time with you and my family. I want to see my daughter graduate and come into her own. Twenty years of this is plenty.”
“You deserve to do all of those things, Felipe. I know it can’t be easy for you to do this.”
A brittle laugh escaped his lips as he took a sip of cold coffee. “You’d be surprised. This past week and a half has cured me of any romantic notions I had about being an investigator. If I start getting nostalgic, remind me I was murdered over a case. Now, the thing is, I don’t want to fully retire yet. I still want to work for the Paranormal Society, but in a different capacity. That’s where your choice comes in.
“I had some ideas, but I told the head inspector I had to talk to you first before deciding anything. The first idea is that I could work somewhere in the society in one of the quieter departments. I thought I could move into an archivist or consulting role. I also heard Theo Bisclavret is looking for people to tend the bees and work in the greenhouses. I’m sure I could figure that out.”
Oliver couldn’t picture Felipe toiling over a vegetable garden or organizing dusty books all day. He was too dynamic for that sort of role. Felipe seemed most himself during those eureka moments when things fell into place or when they were running toward danger. Sure, those highs happened in research and helping with Bisclavret’s project might be fulfilling, but would he enjoy the constant quiet?
“And the other option?”
“Well, I thought we could be partners. You talked about wanting to be an investigator part-time. You would still be the society’s medical examiner most of the time, but when those weirder cases came up that required specialized expertise or a careful eye, we could go. I would also specify to the head inspector that the cases wouldn’t be excessively long or take us too far away unless you were explicitly all right with that. In between cases, I could help you in the lab and come out with you when you get called to crime scenes. Or I could work on some old unsolved cases in my spare time.”
Oliver held his breath, waiting for Felipe to realize he had made a mistake in asking him to be his partner.
Felipe stared at him. He must have mistaken Oliver’s pause for fear or panic because he quickly added, “I swear most cases aren’t this dangerous, and I know you don’t like people interfering in your lab—”
“No, no, it isn’t about that.” Oliver deflated and stared into his drink. “You told me I might not have the right temperament for being an investigator. Remember?”
Felipe’s eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth in a silent oh. Shaking his head, Felipe steadied Oliver’s trembling hands. “Oliver, I said that because I thought I was dying, and I didn’t want you to be hurt should you get partnered up with someone who wouldn’t appreciate you. Not everyone wants to work with someone who cares about accuracy; they only want to do their job and leave. I didn’t want you to get stuck with someone who would resent you.”
“But you wouldn’t?” he asked slowly, not daring to hope.
“No, I love your eye for detail and how much you care about your job and getting answers. I might not always understand your nuanced morality regarding your powers, but I love you and I trust you. There’s no one I would rather have at my side than you.”
