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by Kaje Harper

  “Names, residence, and occupations?” the chief asked. His officer began to answer from his notes but was waved to silence. “Let them speak for themselves.”

  Silas repeated his name, home address, and the boarding house. “And Darien Green, who is organizing my extensive library, and acts as my assistant. I’m also a necromancer.”

  The first cop took a small step backward. The chief just nodded. “I hope you’re better than Pasternak was. We’ve had more calls about hauntings and specters and strange sounds in the night the past year than in the last ten.”

  “That’s why I was called in, actually.” Silas’s tone was deep and smooth. “Pasternak’s wife’s illness was occupying too much of his time. I was asked to clear out the backlog, so to speak.”

  The second younger officer said, “Did you do something at the mental hospital? My sister-in-law works there and she said it was suddenly better, like night and day.”

  Silas inclined his head slightly. “I did undertake to exorcise the ghosts there two nights ago.”

  “Well.” The chief rubbed his bristled scalp. “That’s something anyway. Although no doubt we’ll find a scientific answer to that nonsense soon. After all, we’ve put a man into space. Ghosts will become a thing of the past.”

  “I’m sure they will,” Silas agreed.

  Jasper said, “Do you need us for anything else, Chief? This is a sad situation all around, but not unexpected.”

  “I suppose not.” The chief strode over to look at Pasternak’s body.

  The first cop said, “Not a mark on him that I can see. Perhaps he took poison?”

  “The coroner will get to the bottom of it.” The chief ran his gaze over Darien, Jasper, then Silas. “And you all were together last night?”

  “Until the small hours of morning, over a good bottle of Scotch.” Jasper chuckled. “Which probably shows. I’m not getting any younger.”

  Darien figured hung-over could excuse the circles under their eyes that a night of sleep hadn’t fully erased. Silas’s ridiculous bandage on his neck might be harder to explain, but perhaps he’d tried to shave while drunk. At least they’d stopped by the boarding house for fresh clothes that didn’t look like they’d been bled on and slept in.

  Whatever the chief saw made his eyes narrow, but eventually he said, “Don’t leave town until I have the coroner’s report.”

  “My word on it,” Silas said. “Do you have any objection if we remove a few more ghosts around town while we’re waiting for that?”

  “Be my guest.” The chief snorted. “You could begin with the high school. Three times now my men have been called out because something was seen lurking around the girls’ bathroom in the evenings. Mrs. Knowles said it was transparent and vanished, and she’s a very sensible woman.”

  “I’ll get on that one tonight,” Silas promised.

  “Good. You may go, then.” As the chief turned toward the body, Darien heard him mutter, “Peeping Tom ghosts. Foolishness. The government should do something.”

  He held his laugh until they made it out the front door and into Silas’s car. As he slid into the back seat, he let out a snort. “Peeping Tom ghosts. But science will come up with a ghost ray gun any day now.”

  Jasper got in beside Silas. “You never know. The Great Spell is boosting science, and progress has been remarkable. Maybe one day there will be a weapon an ordinary man can use against a ghost, or a demon.”

  “Until then,” Silas said, putting the car in gear, “it’s up to us. Shall I drop you at home, Jasper?”

  “Me and the books, sure,” Jasper said.

  “Now listen—”

  “They should go to the local Guild hall library.”

  “You think they’ll be safe there?”

  Darien wanted to hear Jasper’s answer too. He wasn’t versed enough in magic lore to know why the dozen they’d culled were dangerous. Except that Silas had pulled one out and then dropped it in the box like it was hot, rubbing his hands on his thighs. “Human skin,” he’d said. “The only books I’ve seen bound like that were dark indeed.”

  Jasper had said, “I’ve never seen one,” and reached toward it, then pulled back. “Not the best place to alter that fact.”

  Silas’s tone had been dark. “I examined the library of a long-time demon possession case. Every human-skin volume was full of the worst of spellcraft, horribly dangerous in the wrong hands. I’d burn that one without reading, just on suspicion.”

  Even in the bright sunlight in the car, Darien shivered, remembering. I’ve seen quite enough of the dark side of spellcraft, thank you.

  Jasper said, “I’ll leave you the worst one to do as you see fit. If you burn it, don’t tell me. I think it’s sacrilege but… he had Winstroll’s Summoning of Demons there. And the Kyrion Necrophilion. So he was clearly searching in dark places. Those two are at least well-known. The Guild can be satisfied with them.”

  “Fair enough.” Silas drove on in silence.

  They were nearing Jasper’s home when Darien decided it was time to speak up. “I’ve been thinking.”

  “Dangerous, boy,” Silas quipped.

  Darien couldn’t help a smile, but felt a flicker of annoyance behind it. “I’m not a boy. And what I’ve been thinking is how little I know about all of this, from the Great Spell, to how to build a simple circle.”

  “Not your fault,” Silas said. “As soon as things settle down, I’ll have more time for teaching.”

  “I know it’s not my fault,” Darien said. “And no offense, but you’ve said more than once that I need a sorcerer for a tutor, not a necromancer.”

  “He hasn’t done a bad job by you,” Jasper murmured. “You have some of the most effective shields I’ve ever seen.”

  “I know. I’m grateful.” He eyed the back of Silas’s head. I don’t want to be grateful, or to be your student. “But there’s clearly so much I don’t know. Even something as basic as a power transfer.”

  “I can teach you that,” Silas said. “Next thing on the agenda.”

  Darien bit the bullet. “I was hoping Jasper might.” The silence in the car was thick enough to suffocate him. He forged on, “We worked well together by the River and I think I could learn a lot from him.”

  “Like what?” Silas’s tone was acid. “Throwing more years of your life into your magic? Do you want to look like a grandfather when you’re barely old enough to vote?”

  Darien heard Jasper take a sharp breath, and anger pushed him to snap, “What happened to ‘I don’t care how old you look, Darien’? Are you regretting my twenty-one-year-old ass after all?”

  “No! I’m regretting the fifteen years I won’t have with you, at the end.”

  That took some of the wind out of his sails, but he forged on. “You could use someone with the right background to tackle that molding pile of books you inherited, I need a teacher whose magic matches mine, Jasper would go nuts for that library. You could hire him—”

  “I’m happy where I am,” Jasper said quietly. “I’d be delighted to work with you again. Your shield structures are unique. I’d love to see how you construct them. But I don’t need Silas to offer me a job to do that.”

  “Oh.” Everything was fitting together so perfectly, he hadn’t paused to wonder if Jasper would resist the lure of all those books.

  “I can’t afford to pay a librarian anyway,” Silas said. “You’re taking it out in room and board. That’s doable. But not a salary.”

  “Not that I’d mind taking a look at that collection,” Jasper added. “You might invite me up that way sometime, just for a glance.”

  “You’re very welcome, of course.” Although Silas sounded less than enthusiastic.

  “Or I could come down here,” Darien suggested. “Bring a few volumes, and get a lesson or two alongside? I can’t pay much. Or anything, yet. But I’ll find a job and I want to learn from someone not chosen by our local Guild. They’d probably pick Locke, or Ferngold, and I’d likely set his hair
on fire by the end of the first lesson.”

  “Offering to immolate your teacher isn’t a great inducement for Jasper.” Silas’s amusement grated on Darien’s nerves.

  He gritted his teeth. “With Jasper, I’m more likely to end up building a skyscraper. And you should hardly be one to complain after we saved your life.”

  That comment landed like a brick. Silas’s back went rigid. Jasper’s ears turned red and he pivoted to look out the window.

  Stupid, stupid. This conversation wasn’t going anything like he’d planned. A dozen ways to say things differently tumbled in his mind, but didn’t make it out his mouth.

  But when Silas pulled into Jasper’s driveway, with a little scatter of gravel, he turned to Jasper. “I’m sorry if I sounded less than welcoming. I am in your debt, now and always, for what you did down by the River.”

  Jasper waved a vague hand. “It was a blast. Seriously. Getting to use my runes that way was the best thing I’ve done in years.”

  “And if you can teach Darien things I can’t—” Silas blew out a breath. “I’ve done him wrong before, by wanting to be his savoir and protector. And it’s more wrong, now he’s his own man.” Silas glanced at Darien, and his expression held an apology. “His teachers and his friendships are his choices.”

  Jasper twisted to look over his shoulder at Darien. “If you ever want to get together to do more runework, I’d be delighted to do that. Call me. I’ll be going through Pasternak’s little library.” Jasper got out and opened the other back door. Reaching in the box, he lifted out one volume and set it on the floorboards, then wrestled the carton off the seat.

  “Do you need a hand?” Darien leaned over to push the box along.

  Jasper gave him a wry smile. “I’m not that decrepit yet.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  He was relieved when Jasper’s smile turned warm. “I’m just pulling your leg. You both take care, now.” He shut the door and gave the roof of the Studebaker a light thump, before heading toward his barn with the box under his arm. The two cats came trotting out to meet him, mouths opening and closing, though Darien couldn’t hear their meows through the glass.

  Silas pulled out before Darien could suggest changing seats. That was even more uncomfortable, like being driven by a somewhat disapproving chauffeur. He said, “Pull over.”

  “It’s just a few more miles to the boarding house.”

  “Pull over.”

  Silas sighed but pulled to the curb and set the parking brake.

  It was cold out, so Darien went for squirming over the back of the front seat, legs flailing. When he got himself right way up in the front, Silas’s lips were twitching, so Darien slid left along the bench, until his shoulder was up against Silas’s. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” Silas tipped his head, so his temple brushed Darien’s. “You’re a nut case.”

  “But I’m your nut case?”

  “Are you?”

  Silas’s voice had come out thinly enough for Darien to break off the teasing and pull back to stare at him. “Of course?”

  “There are a hundred other fish in the sea out there. Some of them are less stuffy and more fun than me, and won’t tell you what to do or get pedantic—”

  He put a finger over Silas’s lips. “I like when you get pedantic. It’s an odd kind of turn-on.”

  Silas kissed his finger, the slightest motion of his lips, followed by a quick glance around the quiet street outside. Darien lowered his hand.

  Silas said, “Then why are you suddenly so interested in Jasper?”

  “Interested in… it’s not like that!”

  “No?”

  “No. Jesus. Are you jealous?”

  A flush mottled Silas’s neck and he stared ahead out the windshield. “Of course not.”

  “You are.” Darien was torn between amusement and a twinge of hurt. “We’ve been together ten days. Why would I already be looking somewhere else? And why Jasper?”

  “He’s… you have a lot in common. And he’s not unattractive, if you like them older.”

  “Are you interested in Jasper?”

  “No!” Silas turned to meet his eyes. “You’re all I can think of. You’re in my mind, all the time, and I can barely focus on my work, let alone another man.”

  “That’s flattering.” He was going to touch Silas’s cheek, but remembered the anxious look for bystanders, and set his hand on Silas’s thigh instead. “You’re in my head a lot too. And other places.”

  “I’m not good at this. Being with someone I care about. You invited another man to come stay in our private space, when we’re barely figuring out how to be together, and I got stupid.” There was vulnerability in Silas’s plaintive tone he’d never expected to hear. Those long fingers drummed a staccato rhythm on the steering wheel.

  “Jesus, Silas.” He grabbed Silas’s hand and laced their fingers together, down out of sight. “I wasn’t even thinking about that.”

  Silas’s fingers tightened on his. “I believe that, in my head. But I don’t like being vulnerable.”

  “You need to trust me, if this—” He lifted their joined hands. “—is going anywhere.”

  “I trust you.”

  He rubbed his thumb over the raised veins on the back of Silas’s hand. “Trust me to know what, and who, I want. To not change my mind when I see some other handsome guy.”

  “So you do think Jasper’s handsome?”

  He was going to protest when he saw the arch of Silas’s eyebrow. He squeezed Silas’s fingers. “Jerk.”

  “Tell me what you need from me.”

  “Just be yourself. Listen when I bitch about my studies, and I’ll listen when you bitch about the council. Don’t be my teacher, be someone I can show new stuff, and you show me new stuff.”

  Silas smiled slightly. “I show you shields, you show me Vaseline?”

  Darien smacked his leg with the back of their joined hands. “And not just in bed. If I study with Jasper, then I’ll learn magic you don’t know. I match you better than that stupid kid who stumbled up a necromancer’s steps months too late, ridden by ghosts and praying for exorcism or death.”

  “Darien.” Silas raised their hands, and if the kiss on Darien’s thumb was preceded by a cautious look around, he understood why. Silas’s lips were cool and dry. “You were so brave. So battered and hurting and still defiant and sassy. You opened your eyes to look at me and I fell into their depths and I’ve been drowning ever since.”

  “Why necromancer, that’s almost poetry.”

  Silas slid their hands apart. “You should cherish it. I’m not likely to do it again.”

  “The way you go to your knees for me is almost poetry too.”

  Silas looked down. “Ah, well, yes, that I might do again.”

  Darien set his hand back on Silas’s lean thigh, feeling his strength under the wool slacks. “The most terrifying moment I’ve ever had wasn’t when the boat ghost spoke in my head, or Pasternak’s knife at my throat, or even Crosby’s demon throwing lightning. It was when that ghoul landed on you and drove you under the surface of the River, and you didn’t come up.”

  “Sweetheart—” Silas swallowed. “I mean, Darien. I’m sorry.”

  “I love you.” He closed his hand hard on Silas’s knee. “That wasn’t just relief and fatigue and too-tired-for-lust last night. I meant it.”

  “As did I.” Silas murmured.

  “Think you’ll ever say ‘Me too,’ like an ordinary person?”

  “I thought you liked pedantic.”

  “I do. I kind of love it.”

  “I’m not sure what you see in me.” Silas shifted in his seat.

  “Are you fishing for compliments?”

  “No, I… maybe. That’s pretty insecure, isn’t it? You make me want to be something more. I’ve seduced dozens of men over the years, in bars and clubs, and you make me feel like an amateur at this game.”

  Darien chuckled. “You think I mind for once having more experien
ce?”

  Silas gave him a startled look.

  “Listen, I don’t know exactly what we’re doing or how it’ll work out. But that doesn’t mean I’m not serious. And I thought Jasper wouldn’t be in our way, because that house is a freaking mausoleum.”

  “You mean mansion?”

  “Not really. Anyhow, Jasper wouldn’t just have his own room, he could have his own private wing. And he’s queer, like us, so he wouldn’t care.”

  “Oh.” Silas was quiet a moment. “I forget sometimes, that you’re living in a world ten years younger than mine.”

  “What do you mean by that? If you’re going to harp on our damned age difference, again—”

  “No, hear me out. Were you part of a group of gay young men, in college?”

  “Yeah. Not formally. We hung out together, cut loose a bit. Not in front of regular guys, of course.”

  “Do you think one day it’ll be accepted on campus, for some random guy to say he’s homosexual?’

  “I hope so.” Darien tried to think back to college. It seemed long ago now, a different easy world of beer and classes, parties and casual friends. “I think so. Ginsberg’s Howl is pretty standard reading, for the pseudointellectual crowd. They’re not shocked by it, at least in theory.”

  “Whereas my decade put him on trial for it.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m not used to anyone knowing who I sleep with.”

  “You didn’t mind about Clarice.”

  “Lesbians are easier. Somehow.” Silas rubbed his face. The small grooves between his eyes were deeper than usual.

  Darien murmured, “You look tired. You should go lure in a few ghosts tonight, power up.”

  “I was planning to check the school, at least. Clear out the peeping Tom. But I’m trying to say I don’t know anything about relationships. I don’t understand all the softer bits that come with the sex.”

  “Our sex mainly comes with hard bits.”

  “Idiot.” Silas’s tone had gone warmer and fonder. “The emotional nuances, then.”

  “As it were.”

  Silas laughed.

  Darien offered, “We’ll explore those together. I’m not pretending to be an expert. I had one relationship long enough to be worth the name.”