by Celia Kyle
Well, you know what? I’m not going to let this beat me. I’ve got this.
With that, she squared her shoulders and headed for the place she always went when she felt at a loss. The place where she knew she could find answers, even if they weren’t directly to the questions she was asking. And, if nothing else, she could squirrel herself away until she got her confidence back in line.
The Othercross Public Library.
Walking with brisk, tight strides, Aurora did what she could to offer her face up to the sun. A little vitamin D might be just the thing. Besides, if she kept her eyes on the pavement like her heavy heart wanted her to, she might just pass Mr. Abernathy on the street and miss him! No, the only way to make herself feel better was to act better.
As soon as the tall, leaded windows came into view, she really did breathe a bit easier. The library was a long-time refuge, and the mere sight of it helped still the waters. But once inside, she was all business.
Flicking through the antique card catalogue, she racked her brain to think of as many different ways as she could to find books on missing people. If she was half as adept at actually looking for Mr. Abernathy as she had been at ferreting out books, he’d have been hers in the twinkling of an eye.
Jotting down a list of numbers on a bit of scrap paper, she was grateful none of this massive collection had been digitized. To have printed out her list on a rumbling printer would have been sacrilege in a place as patinaed with age as this marvelous library. Besides, she liked the old-fashioned way of doing things.
Without the pejorative that often accompanied the expression, Aurora was proud to consider herself “an old-fashioned girl.”
Well up on the second floor she found a table and thumped down a substantial armful of books. Some were on tactics for tracking from the pioneer days, and others were dry-looking modern textbooks for criminal justice classes. One salacious-looking small-press volume was even aimed directly at people who got their private eye licenses from correspondence courses.
It was all grist to her very voracious mill. Sure, it might not actually be pounding the pavement in search of her missing witness, but she assured herself the time was well-spent. Just the feel of paper at her fingertips buoyed her emotions.
“Well, well, well.”
She started and turned, only to find an immaculately coiffed ghost lingering at the edge of the stacks.
“Looks like somebody feels humbled.”
“What makes you say that, Alistair?” He shrugged in his purple velvet smoking jacket and wafted over to her.
“Oh, darling. Sometimes I feel like I only see you when you’re feeling low. But then, that’s why most people come here.”
“Then why are you here?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. He raised his in return.
“Touché.” He lounged next to her, seemingly intent on keeping her from the studying she had come to accomplish. “In truth, I needed a wee bit of quiet. Last night, I haunted the light concert hall. The men’s chorus was rehearsing their program for the building’s tricentennial, and it was a late night, I can tell you.”
Aurora chuckled in spite of herself. Somehow Alastair Flayme had a way of making everything sound salacious. As much of a pain as he could be, a little diversion felt like just the balm she needed.
“So,” she asked, “how was the program?”
“Ghastly,” he shuddered. “They don’t write songs like they used to. The men’s chorus doesn’t sing like they used to, for that matter. But then,” he sighed, “the singing wasn’t really why I stopped by.”
She leaned back in her chair, and he took a quiet moment to survey the books she’d collected. With a theatrical grimace, he cast a jaundiced eye toward her.
“Cheerful subject. Looking for someone?”
“Wow, brilliant deduction. Are you sure you shouldn’t be an investigator?”
He turned a shoulder toward her and raised his eyebrows. “I’ve seen your offices, darling. Too dreary for me.”
“You got that right,” she muttered.
“Speaking of dreary, I’m going to bring up an old subject.” His eyes twinkled, but her stomach pitted at what she knew was coming. “What do you think the chances are? I’d love to be warm and moving again.”
“I’ve told you before, you’ve got much more freedom to move now than you would if you had your body again.”
“But not in the ways I want.”
Aurora tucked a hand over her mouth, and he looked away, pretending not to see her smile.
“It wouldn’t work anyway. Your bones turned to dust long before my grandfather was even born, so there’s not much for me to reanimate, I’m afraid.”
He gasped, clutching at his cravat in over-the-top offense. “Are you calling me old? Well, I never.” He stood up grandly and sniffed, the picture of wounded pride.
“Whatever. I’m just saying you’ve got so much more room to roam this way. If you were stuck in a plane of existence that didn’t give you so much freedom, maybe we could talk, but you have it pretty good right now.”
At this, Alastair rested his elbows on the table in front of her, his chin on the back of his fingers as he batted his eyes at her. “I can always find a wardrobe to sequester myself in, if that would convince you.”
Aurora rolled her eyes. “Even if I wanted to, I probably wouldn’t be much help. As worldly as you are, I’m sure you know I’ve never had any luck raising humans. I’d probably have to call in one of my brothers to finish the job.” The admission tugged her back toward a mild sulk.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’ve seen your brothers. And attractive as they are—and believe me, they are—I’ll tell you a secret.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “They don’t have a fraction of the power you do.”
“Oh, please.” She cracked open one of the books and made a show of leaning over it, dismissing him, which Alastair ignored.
“I’m serious. Just because you haven’t managed it yet doesn’t mean it’s beyond your grasp. Trust me. I was a late bloomer myself. Why, I didn’t become a ghost until after I was dead, so you’re way ahead of me!”
She chuckled but refused to look up.
“Darling, you can trust me on this one. Necromancers come and go, but I’ve never seen one with the power you have. Well, perhaps once or twice, but not in several generations. Why do you think I pester you? Because, if anyone is capable of raising up my crumbled bones, it’s you.”
“But I’ve tried, Alastair! I practice all the time. But each time, it ends up in failure. I can’t seem to control whatever this stuff is inside me. Not only that, whenever I get emotional, my powers go all haywire.”
“Then stop trying to control it so hard.”
“What?” That made no sense whatsoever. How was she supposed to control her powers by not trying to control them?
“Sometimes you have to lose control to gain control.”
With that, he waggled his fingers at her and vanished without so much as a puff of smoke. Aurora sat dumbly for a moment, staring blankly into the space where he had been.
“What the heck is that supposed to mean?” she called into the echo of the stacks.
The only response she got was a loud “Shhh!” from a few aisles over. Turning back to the table in front of her, she softly closed the book she’d been studying. What good were these going to do her? She needed to head over to Abernathy’s house. After all, if he was sitting quietly at home, she was just wasting her time.
Taking a detour to quickly shelve the books—she wasn’t about to leave them there for some poor, beleaguered librarian to put away—she felt resolution brimming up inside her. She might just have this after all.
Twenty minutes later, Aurora sat in her car in front of Theophilus Abernathy’s house, utterly dejected. There’d been no answer to her repeated doorbell ringing, and she’d even peeked into any window that seemed peek-worthy. The place had the air of a house that had been empty for hours, maybe days. Where the hell could he have been? Mo
re importantly, how the hell was she supposed to find him?
A chime cut through her gloom, but when she pulled the phone from her purse, she froze.
The text was from Dane.
Her heart was in her throat before she could catch herself. Swiping through, her palms dampened in anticipation of what might be waiting for her.
Hey. It’s Dane. Just wanted you to hear it from me. The triune has decided to postpone the trial until the witness can be found.
Aurora sighed and typed back to him.
That’s exactly what I’m trying to do. I’m much too stressed to focus on anything else.
That sent, she went back to wondering where she should look next. He was a professor at OCU, so it would make sense to ask around there, but if he could be found that easily, it would have already happened.
Her phone chirped again.
Sorry you’re so stressed. I’ve always found that a break helps make my brain think more clearly. It can be hard to see the problem when you’re smack in the middle of it.
“You got that right,” she mumbled.
Are you proposing anything in particular?
It felt brazen in its coyness, but then something about Dane seemed to bring that out of her. His response came like a rocket.
You got that right! Not a DATE tho. Just 2 friends hanging out. Might clear your mind.
There was something completely disarming about the way he echoed her own words. Not only that, but the idea of seeing him again was incredibly appealing. Perhaps even more than she was willing to admit. She went to reply, but left the pads of her fingers hovering over the screen.
Paul’s piercing eyes flashed in her mind. She had barely managed to escape being fired on the wild promise that she would find Theophilus Abernathy quicker than the rest of the juniors combined—which, to be fair, seemed likely to be within the next calendar year.
Yet, the prospect of this not-a-date date tugged at her insides with a startling insistence. The situation left her stymied in a way that surprised her. Because Dane did have a point. Maybe if she got out of her own head for a while, she’d be able to attack the problem with a fresh set of eyes.
That cinched it.
Gimme 30 minutes?
As soon as the text was sent, his reply came back.
I’d wait for you forever.
Holy cannoli, he was good. Despite the cheesy text—which didn’t feel cheesy in the slightest—Aurora couldn’t hold back the smile blooming on her face.
“That’s a heck of a text, Dane Hensley.” She smirked to herself. “Not a date indeed!”
Twelve
Standing in the bowels of an airship wasn’t exactly what Aurora had in mind when Dane suggested clearing her mind. Granted, the airship itself would have been fascinating, even if it was a touch on the romantic side for two people who had only promised to be friends, but the bungee jump awaiting them gave her the jitters.
It was a good thing Dane had kept his planned activity secret because Aurora would never have met him if she’d known. Well, maybe she still would have, but she’d have been antsy over things a whole lot sooner. The ship had been well over the Sanguine Sea before the penny dropped about the point of the whole trip.
“You okay?”
“Huh?” She looked up to his face and realized she’d been gnawing at the corner of her thumb.
“You look like you’re about to unravel,” he said with a light smile. “Listen, it’s not like they throw you out of this thing. If you don’t want to jump, we can just enjoy the ride and head back.”
“No!” she blurted and then stilled herself. “It’s not the jump.” Dane cocked an eyebrow at her, and she let out a nervous little laugh. “Alright, it’s kind of the jump. But it’s just…” She didn’t need to finish. He knew full well what was eating at her.
“I get it.”
“It just doesn’t make any sense! I mean, I went to his house, and even asked a neighbor where some of his common haunts were. Every place I went, I came up empty-handed.”
“I know, but listen.”
“Yeah?” She looked up at him again and the gentle concern on his face melted just a bit of her worry.
“We probably shouldn’t talk directly about the case. Just because of our positions…”
“Yeah. Of course. Sorry.”
“No need to be sorry. It’s just a thing.” He regarded her with a sideways glance, just a hint of mischief playing at the corners of his mouth.
His coy little smile was infectious, and soon, she had one to match it. “What?”
“I’ve got to admit, I’m surprised you even got on this thing. Bungee jumping isn’t for everyone.”
“Well, you were clever enough not to tell me until we were already in the air.”
“It was on the sign,” he pointed out with a hearty laugh. “You were just too preoccupied to actually see anything until after we took off, and I’m glad you were.” He took a seat on the bench that ran the length of the airship along either side and patted the spot beside him for her to join.
The thrill of being in such close proximity rattled her bones. Leaning ever so slightly, she let her upper arm graze his as she sat. It felt oddly naughty so she pulled back. Clearly, she must have tensed because Dane gave her a soft, panty-melting smile.
“This really clears the head. Trust me.”
“Wait, so you’ve done this before?” She couldn’t manage to keep the tinge of awe out of her voice.
“Sure. Several times.”
He leaned back, looking awfully pleased with himself. On anyone else, the expression would have irked her, but it suited him.
“Are you telling me this is nothing special for you?”
That caught his attention, and he snapped to look into her face. The ardor in it made her breath catch, but he quickly mellowed it, settling into something more intimate.
“Trust me. This time will be special to me.”
The intensity in his eyes made Aurora blush, and she looked away for fear she’d tumble headlong into them.
This guy is smooth. Is it wrong that I like it so much?
“So what was your first time like,” she asked. His face registered a kind of startled bemusement, and she hastened to add, “Jumping! What was your first jump like?”
“I know,” he said with the tiniest wicked smirk. Then, he leaned back as if trying to remember something from decades before. “Honestly? Terrifying. Invigorating. I was in a low spot and it made me feel powerfully alive.”
As he spoke, his whole body seemed to vibrate with the memory. She allowed her eyes enough license to wander over him for a moment before centering herself again. More than just his frame drew her, though his subdued power made her tingle in funny places. It was the fact that he had obliquely admitted to some sadness he carried. Peeks like that seemed rare in men like Dane.
“I just hope it knocks something loose inside my head. This case—”
“Hey, hey, hey,” he interrupted, laying an unexpectedly warm hand on her knee. “The whole point of this was to get you to relax. It’s all going to work out.”
I can’t see how.
His hand lingered, and as good as it felt, Aurora needed a modicum of professional distance. Shifting her posture, he seemed to take the hint and gently took his hand away. She immediately missed it, but it was the right thing to do. The proper thing.
“Hensley and Rhonelle, tandem jump. You’re up!”
Aurora surged to her feet before her brain could catch up, looking blankly at the sturdy looking man holding the clipboard.
“Tandem jump?” she asked, looking up into Dane’s hypnotic brown eyes. For a moment, they flashed a richer, more vibrant hue
“Of course,” Dane said, rising to stand beside her. “You didn’t think I’d make you jump the first time alone. Did you?”
She swallowed hard, only just coming to the realization of how close their bodies would be. Suddenly her mind couldn’t think of anything else.
&nbs
p; They stepped into a pair of very unsexy harnesses, and the mundane functionality of the gear settled her just a bit.
“Okay, now face each other.”
“Excuse me?” She looked into the thoroughly bored face of the technician strapping them in.
“Face each other. We’ll secure the link up.”
And just like that, Aurora’s heart was in her throat. She stood facing Dane, closer than she ever thought she would—at least, while they were respecting professional boundaries. They were clipped together and the straps were pulled surprisingly tightly, pressing their bodies firmly together.
My goodness, he’s firm. No! Keep it together.
“Now, don’t go getting any ideas, friend,” he said, mischief sparkling in his smile. “The tighter we are, the safer we are.”
You got that right.
“Step to the edge.” The technician was all business as he fixed the cord to their ankle harnesses with an almost perfunctory air.
While Aurora was sure it would be secure, her stomach still danced with anxiety. Or maybe it was because she was bound so close to this handsome wolf that she could feel every ridge and contour of his body. And she knew he could feel hers. That only sent her insides spinning harder. It was the single most intense feeling she’d ever experienced, and mastering it was going to take every ounce of her strength.
“Ready?” Dane’s eyes were warm, and he placed his hands on her ribs.
Burning with the power of it all, she swallowed hard and nodded. With a gentle lean, they sailed out into the air. The sudden, shocking rush of the wind in her ears shifted reality. Her whole body went cold and she clung to Dane, digging her fingers into his back. He held her in return, enveloping her in his arms and howling with laughter.
Aurora realized she was laughing too. Hard. The bottom of the airship rocketed away from them at an incredible pace, and the blue sky above their feet seemed impossibly vast. Time seemed compressed and elongated all at once.
Then, looking up—or rather, down, since they were hurtling toward the sea head-first—she saw the water racing up to meet them. Her stomach slewed as the cord pulled taut, and for a suspended moment, she and Dane hung within a foot of the water. So close she could have reached out and brushed it. The sense of effervescent energy fizzing away inside her threatened to shatter her with joy.