Chapter 12

Harris revved the engine as he merged onto the highway. “Nice car.”

“Thanks.” I closed my eyes, not that I would fall asleep with him driving Fabian, but it felt restful.

“Shame about the seats.”

“Replaced before I bought it.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Harris. Some women like cars. I take care of Fabian, and he takes care of me. More reliable and longer lasting than any of my boyfriends.”

He snorted.

“The Volvo P1800E is the best sports car Volvo ever made,” I said. Cracking one eye open, I saw a hint of amusement on his face. “Why are you driving me home?”

“I volunteered.” He checked the mirror before sliding over a lane. “I owe you for not coming to your rescue, and I didn’t want you to get stuck with another Floyd.”

“Harris, we’re coworkers. You don’t owe me anything. Besides, you made us square by adding your statement.”

The last thing I needed were rumors that I was seeing another agent. Bad enough to be the first witch, and a woman to boot. I didn’t need another reason for people to behave poorly.

“Off duty, it’s Wayne.” Without prompting, he flipped a turn signal and took the exit for my apartment.

“Fine. Wayne, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but we’re square. The best thing you can do now is leave me in peace. It’s been a hell of a day.”

And it wasn’t over yet. Dad and I needed to have a talk about Jameson coming back to life. Raising a goldfish was one thing. A human was a different matter entirely.

He didn’t say anything until the car was crunching the gravel of the circular drive. “Where should I park?”

“Under the red maple.” I pointed to a gap between two cars.

Harris eased Fabian into his spot. While I gathered my things, he came around to my side and opened my door with a flourish. Ignoring his hand. I eased my aching body out of the car. Grateful as I was for the healing, they could’ve done more for the rest of me.

“Rest well.” He pressed the keys and a slip of paper into my hand.

“What is it?”

“My number.” Harris stepped around me and headed down the driveway.

I stared after him, to tired and achy to understand. “Why?”

He turned back with a warm smile. “Because I like you.” The smile faded away. “I know what it’s like to lose someone and feel responsible. Call if you need to talk.”

Like was a powerful word when we worked together. Especially partnered with the offer to talk. To cover my surprise, I asked the first question that came to mind. “Do you need a ride?” Not that I was in any shape to give him a ride, but I’d figure something out.

A silver pickup truck pulled into the driveway with a mid-thirties man behind the wheel.

“Nope. Called a friend.” Harris waved and got into the truck. He waved again as the truck passed me following the loop of the driveway.

Like as in want to date or like as in friend? It was a crucial distinction. One I didn’t have time to ponder right now. Not when I’d just raised a man from the dead. That was the pressing issue.

On my way up to my apartment, I grabbed my mail out of the box. It ended up on my dining room table, another problem for later. A dragon emblem on one of the envelopes reminded me to call ahead for my flight and a ride. Half an hour later, after a quick shower and sandwich, a cab pulled up to the front of the building. I slid into a windbreaker and headed out.

Ten minutes later, I handed over a tip and stepped onto an open field. To the right, a tall barn abutted the trees, but to the left, the grass stretched for acres. The evening sun backlit distant hills, casting long shadows across the grass.

“Arrre you Mssss. Pinesss?” a voice hissed from right behind me.

I spun around, hand reflexively going for my wand in the thigh sheath.

The dragon jerked its head back, seemingly just as shocked as me. How something that large could sneak up on a person, I’d never figure out, though my fatigue might have played a part. From nose to tail, it was at least twenty feet long, which put its age at a similar number. It was a young dragon, but still formidable. Its entire body gleamed where the sun struck its amber scales. A saddle with ties to secure the rider on during aerial maneuvers perched on the dragon’s back, held in place by spells.

“Sorry.” I huffed out a breath. “Yes, I’m Kelsey Pine.”

“And I am Jolly.” The dragon tipped its head to the side. “I know itsss an odd name, but when yourrr given name is twelve syllablesss, it becomes preferable. I will be your ride tonight.”

“Nice to meet you, Jolly.” I couldn’t help smiling over the name. “Do you have the coordinates?”

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Jolly nodded. “All I need is verification of your clan membership.”

I set my backpack purse on the ground, and set the windbreaker on top of it. I turned my right arm wrist-side up so Jolly could see my clan scar. To most people, a clan scar looked like a tattoo, but they showed up at birth and didn’t change unless a witch’s clan affiliation changed. My clan wasn’t happy with me, but they still claimed me, and so did the squished V with serifs on the three ends that had been the symbol for the Bausen clan since it had formed thousands of years ago.

Dragon rides around Tennessee were one of the few clan perks I could still claim, though I doubted it would go unnoticed since I hadn’t taken one in two and a half years.

“Verrry good.” Jolly bobbed its head. “Mount up, and we’ll be on ourrr way.”

I retrieved my things, zipping up the jacket all the way, and scrambled into the saddle. When I tied the last strap holding me on, Jolly looked over their shoulder, checked that I was properly in place, and spread their wings.

Three surging beats later, we were in the air. I’d never found adequate words to describe flight. The world below faded to a moving tapestry while the air chilled, and the only sound was that of the wind itself. I crouched close to Jolly’s neck and lost myself in the ride.

Not even ten minutes later, we’d left the city far behind, and trees dominated the landscape. Jolly angled down and headed for the yard behind my family’s house. With heavy wingbeats, Jolly settled onto the grass.

I untied the straps and slid off. “Thank you.”

Jolly bowed their head. “I hope you enjoyed the ride. Call if you need a return trip.”

I turned and headed to the house. The force of Jolly’s wings had me hurrying forward as the dragon took off.

The back door swung open. Mom looked out, her auburn hair hanging in a braid that reached her hips, barefoot in jeans and a sweater with the sleeves pushed up. Her brows pulled together, and her amber eyes went from the dragon to me. “Kelsey, what’s wrong?”

“Is Dad home? I need to talk to him.” I swallowed, trying to ease the lump in my throat. Maybe coming here had put all of us in more danger, but I didn’t know what else to do.

Mom pulled me in for a hug. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to hold back the tears of relief. Finally, I was with adults, not new ones like myself, but mature adults, ones who should know the answers to my questions. Real adults.

“Lynn, who’s there?” Dad’s voice came from inside the house.

“It’s okay. Even if everything has fallen apart, we’re family.” She pressed a kiss to my forehead before releasing me. “Kelsey came by dragon to see you. Drew and Stacy could use a run. We’ll shift and go for a romp while you catch up.”

I followed Mom into the kitchen. Not much had changed since I had moved out six years ago. The cabinets were the same yellow pine with iron hardware, and the tile countertop shone bright white in contrast.

Dad hadn’t changed much either. A few more gray hairs decorated his temple, but most of it was the same deep brown as my own. Mostly, my memory of him had changed. At one point, I’d thought him capable of carrying the world on his shoulders. He still seemed superhuman to me, almost always right and uncannily good at predicting my behavior.

Like me, he was a witch, and even though he looked middle-aged, us witches could live for three hundred years. He’d had me late in life. Even so, he could look forward to another hundred and fifty years—unless the clan killed him for harboring a necromancer.

My breath caught in my chest, and my attempt at a smile came out as a grimace. “Hi, Dad.”

“Must’ve been in a rush to see me if you used the dragon.” He closed the distance and wrapped me in a hug.

“I’ll get the kids.” The stairs creaked under Mom’s feet.

Leaning back, he looked me over. “Tears? What trouble have you gotten in this time?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Tea or cocoa?”

“Cocoa.” I settled onto a stool at the bar.

“That kind of story, is it?” He filled the kettle and set it on the stove before getting out the chocolate and mugs.

As easy as that, I fell into the ritual from my childhood. “We last talked, Friday? So Monday, I mean, yesterday.” It felt like more than a day since this mess started. “I met my new boss. He’s a jerk, and thanks to him acting poorly during a training exercise, a suspended jerk.”

Dad sent a sharp look in my direction. “Acted poorly? What’s that code for?”

A small thunder of feet on stairs spared me from an immediate response. A thump was followed by a moment of silence. Then perked, tufted ears and bright eyes peered through the door. One look was all it took for the brown-coated lynx to bound over and plant her paws on my knees.

“Stacy, I can feel your claws.” Unlike Dad and me, the rest of the family were shifters. I’d never been sure why Dad had married Lynn, as cross species matches like theirs weren’t common, but I couldn’t have asked for a better mom or more annoying siblings.

Her claws pricked through my jeans before retracting. She dropped to the floor with a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

Leaning down, I scratched behind her ears. Stacy leaned into my hand and purred. “I don’t know if we’ll have time for a visit tonight. It’s a school night, so it depends on when you get back from your run.”

Drew strode into the room much like any cat, without acknowledgment of our presence but hoping that you’d notice him. Like any older sister, I pointedly ignored him until he came over and bumped my leg with his head.

“Oh, hi. I didn’t see you.” I reached down to pet him, ignoring the look that plainly conveyed his disbelief.

A demanding cough from the door had Stacy and Drew moving away. Mom, in her red-brown lynx fur, flicked an ear toward the cat door. Stacy kept glancing back, but one by one, they all wiggled through and left me alone with dad. The only thing missing from all the times they’d gone out during my childhood was Brent. At twenty-one, he was living on his own, trying to figure out how to adult. I sincerely hoped he did a better job than me.

Dad set a steaming mug in front of me before dropping two marshmallows in with a flourish. He topped his own and settled onto a stool. “I don’t think you came here because of your boss, no matter how problematic he’s been.”

The mug was still too hot for it to be comfortable to hold, but I did it anyway, needing the warmth. “Dad…” The words stuck in my throat. I couldn’t look at him, see the horror, so I stared into my cocoa and forced the words out. “I raised someone from the dead.”

“A person?”

“Human.”

I still couldn’t look at him. I shouldn’t have even been telling him, but if I couldn’t confide in my dad, then who could I tell? I didn’t know of any other necromancers.

His hand settled over mine, and he gently squeezed. “I’d hoped Bubble would be the end of it, but I think I always knew.”

It took everything in me to meet his gaze and see his love. “You won’t report me?”

“No, I won’t. You’re my daughter, and I’ll do everything I can to protect you.”

I couldn’t stop the tears this time. All the fear finally had somewhere to go. “I don’t even know how I did it.” I moved my hand out from under his to wipe my eyes.

“Likely instinct at this point.” He sipped the cocoa. “We’ll manage. I have a package for you, from your mother.”

“What does Mom have to do with it?” It felt strange to say “mom” and mean someone other than Lynn. “She’s been dead since I was a baby.”

“Do you remember how I said she died?” he said, carefully devoid of emotion.

I had a sinking feeling that I didn’t want to know the truth. “It was a magical accident. It’s why you have to be careful with spells. When they go wrong, people can get hurt.” Those were the very words he’d told me as a child.

“Kelsey, your mother was a necromancer, and the clan killed her.” Twenty-four years wasn’t enough time to take the anger, pain, or fear out of his voice.