by Celia Kyle
Her body went numb and tingly again as they shot away from the surface of the sea. It was impossible to say how many times they bounced before easing into a lazy swing not far above the water. Not that it mattered.
Aurora’s throat was raw from scream-laughing, and her sides ached. Only then did she realize that Dane’s arms were still holding her tightly. And hers were returning the favor.
Even after that terrifying, exhilarating leap, she felt safer than she ever could have imagined, and it was because of Dane. Not only would she never have done this kind of thing without him, but he’d managed to make her feel completely secure through it all.
As the blood rushed to her head, she found him watching her with that same, gentle, hungry look on his face, even though she must have looked dreadful with a red face and hair literally standing on end. None of that seemed to bother him, though. Without warning, he leaned in, but then seemed to check himself. She waited, hoping for the inevitable but not daring to make that move herself. He leaned in again, and this time their lips met.
Whatever dizzying, vertiginous sensations had been roiling inside her were child’s play to what that kiss inspired. Like a hurricane had broken out in every cell of her body, her spine sizzled from end to end, and she pushed harder against his mouth. Their lips parted, but she didn’t dare flick her tongue forward, and he kept his back as well.
He’s letting me lead.
That only drove her madder for him.
In that crackling moment, Aurora’s whole world turned upside down, and not just because they were hanging headfirst over the Sanguine Sea. The typhoon inside her had its dark edges as well.
So much for “no benefits.” What am I doing?
She was breaking every promise she had made to herself about how things were between them. On their first outing as friends, they had left that line in the dust. Not only that, but the professional parameters were a complete jumble. After all, he was one of the judges on her first case!
But his lips feel so good!
All at once, the kiss ended. She could breathe again but was drowning from missing his mouth. Their faces were still so close. She could dip in for more if she wanted. So could he. The air between them was molten with tension, and the spark between them snapped out into the open. Even the breeze stopped. The water below their heads seemed to churn and boil. Whatever strong emotions were percolating inside her sought release. Was it possible for fireworks to break out under the sea?
Then a hand emerged from the roiling swirl of seawater. It reached upward, grasping as if to catch her by the hair. She opened her mouth to scream from the surprise of it but remained silent, transfixed as more of the attached body came into view. At last, the head crested and Aurora found herself face to face with the man she had been seeking.
Theophilus Abernathy stared up at her with pale, reanimated eyes. The white hair ringing his bald pate dripped and clung to him, and his mouth worked in a gaping plea. Below the line of his jaw, his throat had been slit with one clean, broad stroke. He’d been murdered and his body dumped.
“Oh my god,” Dane whispered. “Is that…”
But Aurora knew, and she was already shifting into gear. In her experience attempting to raise people, she knew she only had a moment.
“Mr. Abernathy,” she said quickly, power flowing through her like lava, “my name is Aurora Rhonelle and I’m the lead investigator on your case. Who did this to you, sir?”
It felt strange claiming such a lofty status but she didn’t have time to waste explaining the intricacies of her situation, nor would the dead man care. She kept her eyes locked on his and she saw the flicker behind them. Again, he worked his jaw, but only a putrid gurgling sound came out, and that was from his throat, not his mouth. Water spilled over his lips and down his neck through the gash in his throat.
Frustration bordering on rage took over his face. At last, he pointed directly at Aurora, then over their feet to the sky. It was clear he was trying to communicate something, but she was at a loss. Those dead eyes registered desperation, and he did it again, pointing toward her and then the sky.
“What is it? What are you trying to say?”
A corpse raised for questioning was incapable of lying, but that didn’t mean they could always be understood. And, as she watched him, the lights went out. Abernathy’s eyes went flat and his body rigid as he sank back into the deep. It felt like a deep loss, yet at the same time she had learned something very powerful.
The cord drew them back up toward the ship, and the entire way, she held Dane tightly, burying her face in his shoulder. He held her too, incapable of knowing the thoughts racketing around her brain. While she didn’t know what any of it meant, one thing was absolutely certain.
With her only witness murdered and dumped in the sea, it was clear that whatever was going on was much bigger than some petty burglary.
Thirteen
Yet again, Aurora found herself trapped at her family’s dinner table. With the weight of all that had been going on keeping her eyes glued to her plate, she nudged the food around and hoped it looked like she was eating something. Not that anyone was paying any attention to her.
“I led a mass reanimation for the retirement of one of the Guild Chairmen.” Lock took a sip of wine and leaned back in his chair to await the inevitable praise.
“Really?” Wisteria’s eyes went wide, and Aurora could feel them cutting to her without even having to look up.
“That’s quite the accomplishment, son,” her father said. “Who’s retiring?”
“Hubert Pendragon. He turned four hundred in March.”
“He’s earned it then,” Thersites said with some satisfaction. “That’s a lifetime of service, and with good fortune, he may have another century or more to enjoy himself.”
“Four hundred?” Onyx asked through a mouthful of food. “They just keep driving the retirement age up, huh?”
“He wanted to stay,” Lock replied. “Once you’ve made the Guild, it’s not something you want to step away from.” There was more than a hint of smugness in his voice, and it only made Aurora want to slide under the table.
“Rightly so,” Thersites added.
She wondered if anyone would notice if she cast an invisibility spell and bolted for the door. As if she wasn’t feeling low enough, the idea of her brothers sailing on to success wasn’t doing much to lift her spirits.
“How many was it?” Rhys asked Lock, just a hint of challenge in his voice.
Their father chuckled lightly. Everyone at the table knew that Rhys had managed to raise fifteen at once and had kept them reanimated for the better part of an hour for the Othercross Septicentennial. Out of the corner of her eye, Aurora saw Lock raise an eyebrow.
“Seven. Just some former members to wish him well. Nothing too ostentatious.”
Now Thersites laughed in earnest, and Aurora felt like she might split clean down the middle. Even at less than half Rhys’s number, it was still more than she would ever achieve, it seemed.
In the slab of meat on her plate, she kept seeing Theophilus Abernathy’s face. Her stomach curdled even more and she was sorely tempted to put her napkin over her food. Her brothers were warring over who had been able to reanimate the most corpses at a single stretch, and she hadn’t even managed to keep one alive for more than a few seconds—even though her career, not to mention pride, depended on it!
In the middle of all the congratulations and good cheer, she felt completely at a loss. The simple, open-and-shut case she’d been entrusted with had turned into a complicated nightmare, and she had no clue how to proceed. Before she even knew what she was doing, she said quietly, “I’m in trouble.”
A pall fell over the table and all eyes turned to her.
“What’s that?” Thersites’s chalice hung midway between the table and his lips.
“Things at the Judiciary… I think I’m in trouble.”
“Oh, Rory.” Her mother reached over and placed a hand on her
s. On a normal night, she might have tugged it away out of defensiveness, but in that moment, she surrendered to her mother’s comfort.
“I was tapped to present a case, and I think I really screwed things up. I’ll probably lose my job.”
“What are you saying?” Duval met her eyes and he looked genuinely concerned.
“I guess I’m...asking for help.”
That last word was hard wrung from her. Aurora had always prided herself on being independent. It was the core of what made these dinners so hard for her. But with nowhere else to turn and everything in the balance, she looked to her family and saw something surprisingly akin to understanding.
“What is it, darling?” It was the first time her father had used that word since she was a little girl. At the sound of it, the dam broke.
“There was this theft case. It wasn’t anything major—a slam dunk, really—but I put a lot of time into it. When my boss took over a bigger case, he chose me to take his place as lead.”
“Oh, pet, that’s wonderful!” Wisteria gave her daughter’s hand a shake.
“As a junior investigator?” Onyx sounded oddly impressed.
“I know!” Aurora was unable to keep misery and pride from mingling in her voice. “But I messed it all up.”
“How?” Her father’s gaze was even, but there wasn’t a trace of judgement in it.
“Well,” she heaved a sigh. “The whole thing hung on the testimony of one eye witness, Theophilus Abernathy.”
“They just pulled his body out of the Sanguine Sea,” Rhys said, looking around the table. “I heard about it before coming over.”
Tears welled in Aurora’s eyes that the news of the body’s recovery had gone public so soon.
“Right. The trial started a couple of days ago but he didn’t show up. My boss reamed me out for not escorting the witness to court, but he had never told me to.”
Aurora’s mother sniffed. “How could they expect you to know that if they didn’t tell you?”
Wisteria could be incredibly warm when she wanted to be, and this was one of those moments.
“I pointed that out, but it didn’t make any difference. To make matters even more complicated, there’s this judge on the triune, Dane Hensley. He’s a wolf shifter from Florida, and there’s this insane chemistry between us, but we both agreed nothing could happen between us until the trial was over.”
Thersites shifted in his seat, looking just a mite uncomfortable that his daughter’s romantic life was entering the conversation. A quick look from Wisteria seemed to settle him, and Aurora managed to press forward.
“Anyway, my boss tasked me with finding the witness. When I couldn’t, Dane said I needed to clear my mind, so we went bungee jumping…”
“You? Bungee jumping?” Onyx looked damn near proud of her while her parents simply looked confused.
“Yes, me. The crazy thing is that Dane’s theory worked. As soon as he kissed me, my emotions went haywire and I inadvertently raised Mr. Abernathy.”
“Wait, who kissed you?” Duval asked. “The judge who agreed nothing could happen between you two?”
Aurora’s cheeks heated to a thousand degrees remembering the feel of Dane’s lips on hers. “It was in the heat of the moment. Regardless, Mr. Abernathy was animated for only a few seconds before sinking back into the sea. I tried to find out who murdered him, but his throat had been slashed and all he could manage were gurgles. So not only am I sort of fraternizing with one of the judges, but the sole witness is dead. I expect by morning the entire case will be dismissed and the thief will go free. And it’s all my fault.”
Every one of her family members was staring at her in shock, not saying a word. Clearly they needed more guidance.
“So?” she added, imploring them to share their wisdom. “What should I do?”
This was incredibly out of character for Aurora, and she knew nobody would understand that more than the six faces looking back at her. She had spent the entirety of her life seeking their approval and often failing. Next to her accomplished brothers, it sometimes felt like the only one who had her back...was her.
But she had nowhere to turn. Except Dane. But he could hardly be counted as a disinterested party. Besides, with the case in tatters, he was bound to head back home to Ft. Lauderdale and leave her bereft of any support. The fear of losing him was one of the things that kept her from allowing herself to fall too far too fast.
As the silence at the table dragged on, Aurora shifted her gaze back down at the cold meat lying inert on her plate. Pressing her hands into the tablecloth, she awaited the inevitable avalanche of criticism that was undoubtedly about to break around her head.
“Darling...” Her father licked his lips as if searching for where to begin.
It only deepened Aurora’s shame. After years of being resistant to criticism of any kind, she’d left them with precious little recourse as to how to help her.
“It sounds to me like the worst of this is out of your hands.”
“Yeah,” Rhys said, nodding. “You can’t know what they don’t tell you.”
“But...he’s dead.” Just saying the word again tasted bitter on her tongue.
“That’s not at your doorstep, pet.” Wisteria gave her hand a squeeze, but it felt hollow somehow.
“Mom’s right.” Onyx nodded. “Who the hell is running that place if they can’t manage to keep a witness alive? Especially over some little burglary thing? You’re an investigator, not a bodyguard, Rory.”
“From what you’ve said, none of this is your fault.” There was an unusual trepidation in her father’s voice, and it drew her eyes up to meet his. “In fact, it sounds to me like you should be proud. There must be any number of full investigators there, but they put the case into your hands. Take the wins where they come.”
“Even if they cost me my job?”
Nobody had an answer for that one.
“Darling,” Thersites started, his lips pressed into a thin line, “there is not a straight, easy path in life. Sometimes the way is winding. The trick is to trust the path.”
What the heck was that supposed to mean?
“Sis, if you need any help, we’ve got your back. You know that. Right?” Onyx said with a weak smile.
Her other brothers nodded their agreement, but no one offered up any words of actual advice to solve her situation. Quiet hung over them for another second before Wisteria took charge.
“Let’s clear these things away.”
With a pat on her daughter’s hand, the plump woman stood up and began collecting plates. As if on cue, the whole family rose, seemingly grateful to be released from the conversation.
The whole family, save one.
Aurora remained in place, looking absently at the tablecloth as the meal was cleared away. Her own plate was removed, and whoever took it mercifully refrained from commenting on her lack of appetite. The cause for that was more than apparent.
With unusual timidity, the men retired to Thersites’s study, and before long, she heard the sounds of easy camaraderie drifting down the hall. Still, she sat, feeling completely alone. After the clatter of dishes had settled, the creaking of Wisteria’s feet along the floorboards told Aurora she was about to receive a private audience.
“Still tied up, pet?”
All she could manage was a miserable shrug. When her mother eased into the chair next to her, her energy was different.
“Well,” she said, placing a couple of small glasses on the table. “Your father doesn’t know I have this.” A cork pop drew Aurora’s eyes up, and her mother doled out generous pours of some dark, rich whiskey.
“Secrets?” She’d never known her mother to keep anything to herself. It was oddly like being taken into her confidence.
“Maybe. But the boys shouldn’t have all the fun.”
She raised her glass, and Aurora met it with her own. The first sip had more burn than Aurora was expecting, but it immediately settled into something very fine. This wa
sn’t the party swill Kelly doled out with abandon, and the taste of something so smooth was a welcome change.
Shame it’s on an empty stomach.
Consoling herself that she would only have one drink that night, she allowed herself the indulgence.
“Mom, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“One part of the story is worth revisiting.” Taking another sip to get her courage up, she looked into her mother’s face. “Technically, I raised Mr. Abernathy. It was just for a moment, and it won’t make a difference in the case, but…”
“Yes?” Wisteria had her sphinx face on. They both knew where this was heading, but evidently, the older woman was going to make her daughter say it out loud.
“It just seems to me that since I’ve used necromancy to raise a person, maybe I could finally have grandmother’s shawl.”
Wisteria carefully set her glass down on the table and then folded her hands. She was quiet for a moment before she met her daughter’s gaze.
“When you raised him from the sea, did you already know he was there? Did you know you were doing it?”
“No.” Aurora’s stomach tightened.
“So, you’re saying it was a byproduct of some other energy. Like the bungee jump?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“Oh, Rory,” Wisteria patted the table and stood up. “As much as it pains me to say it, it sounds like raising Mr. Abernathy was an accident, and I’m afraid accidents don’t count.” She collected the bottle and toddled back down the hall.
As fine as the liquor in her glass tasted, Aurora fired it back in one strong belt. It burned down into her stomach and she imagined she could already feel it washing away some of the day’s indignities.
Maybe it wouldn’t be her only drink after all.