At that moment, Vixen returned, carrying a canvas bag. They were followed by Camilla, who was carrying another tray with a teacup and saucer on it. “Here’s your blow dryer.”
I took the bag. “Thanks. I’ll be going now. I’ll call you in a bit.” I turned back to Lenny. “It’s been nice to meet you,” I said, but this time I kept my hands to myself. The entity was on guard and any further touch might give it more information than I wanted it to have.
Lenny leaned back and stared at me, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes, you too.”
And on that lie, Camilla led me out of the room and I left, after secreting the bag back to her.
Once outside, I took a long breath to clear my thoughts. It was cold and snowing, fine thin flakes coming down fast with no signs of stopping. I paused at my car, using the device that Yutani—who worked for the Wild Hunt—had created for everybody in the agency. He had also made spares for a few friends, like me. A quick scan of the car told me there were no explosives, magical or otherwise, on my car. It also scanned for other magical traps waiting to happen. We had learned the hard way that when you’re in a war, whether it be against the Dragonni or the Fae, you double check on things like that.
As I drove home toward the UnderLake District, I decided to stop off at the lake. It was a cold afternoon, but I wanted the chill to clear my thoughts. The light was waning, but I still had time for a brief outing.
I found a bench that was free of snow—it was nestled under a canopy of fir trees—and sat down, leaning back as I tried to relax. The water was restless today and I imagined the Elementals were having a blast with the weather. Ember would be able to tell, but unless they chose to show themselves to me, most elementals were difficult to see, even for witches. I could see spirits no problem, but then again, I was a bone witch and that was my specialty.
Lake Washington was covered with choppy waves, and the seafoam scattered on the strip of dirt and grass that edged the lake as they rolled in toward the shore. Lake Washington was a massive lake, as far as lakes go, and had been known by several different Native American names long before 1854, when incoming white settlers had named it after George Washington. At twenty-two miles long and six miles wide, the lake plunged down to a depth of 210 feet. Fishing was good in it, and motorboats tore along the surface on a regular basis. At this time of year, boats decked out in holiday lights leisurely sailed over the surface.
Two bridges crossed the lake—the I-90 floating bridge, and the other was the 520 floating bridge, which had recently been replaced. Given the old 520 bridge had a one-in-twenty chance of going down in a big quake, and also given the area was prone to powerful quakes due to the fault zone that wove a web beneath the greater Seattle metropolitan area, the authorities had managed to push through a bill that allowed them go ahead with replacing it. The new bridge, formally known as the Evergreen Point Floating Bridge, was both the widest and longest floating bridge in the world.
From where I was sitting, I could see both bridges, one toward the southern end and one near the northern end. I huddled back on the bench, watching the water churn along, and content to let my mind drift. I was processing what I had seen at Vixen’s. Lenny was definitely carrying an attachment, but I still wasn’t sure what it was. And even more important—could I remove it from him? That depended on what I was facing, so I was still in the dark.
As I was sitting there, watching the waves, I happened to glance to my left, where I saw a young man. He was wearing an open shirt over an undershirt, and a pair of blue jeans. I couldn’t figure out how he was possibly warm enough. As he turned around and saw me, he froze. I glanced around, thinking maybe he was looking at someone behind me, but there was no one else in the park.
I tried to return to thinking about Lenny’s case, but the guy was annoying me. He wouldn’t stop looking at me. Then I paused, turning my attention to him again. I stared at him for a moment, then closed my eyes. I could see his aura better that way.
Oh, he’s dead. Now that I looked closely, I could see the telltale signs.
The man’s aura flared with purple around the outer edges, and there was no silver cord to be seen anywhere. He wasn’t threatening, though. In fact, I felt sorry for him, though I didn’t know why. Opening my eyes again, I patted the seat beside me. He cocked his head like a puppy, then began to walk my way. When he was standing about two yards away, he stopped again.
“Are you all right?” I asked aloud.
He paused, as if listening to something intently. With his left hand, he reached for his shirt and as I watched, he opened it fully and I saw a patch of red there, spreading across the area where his heart was. It wasn’t blood, but an energy residue. He crooked his finger and motioned for me to follow him as he turned to walk toward a thicket of trees in the park.
I reluctantly followed, knowing and yet dreading what was next. And sure enough, the moment we came to the trees, he pointed toward a mound, recently covered with snow. I knelt beside the mound, still keeping myself alert for any sudden noises or movements, and as I brushed away the leaves and snow, I saw a hand sticking out from beneath the clumps of sodden, icy leaves.
“Crap,” I said. Just what I needed now—a dead body on my hands. With a low sigh, I pulled out my phone and called the police.
The officers answering the call were Fae. Light Fae, if I was correct. They took down my name and address and I was able to tell them I had seen the spirit and he led me to his body because the Fae, for the most part, believed in—and understood—the spirit world.
“Is he around now? Is there anything he can tell you about his death? Was he murdered? Or did he just drop dead?” The woman officer’s name was Deaylia Larens. “We shouldn’t move the leaves till the coroner gets here.”
“I can try,” I said. I turned back to the spirit, who was standing a ways back, watching. I motioned for him to approach. He slowly inched forward, nervously eyeing the exposed hand on the ground.
Can you hear me? I projected silently, to see if he could catch my words without me talking aloud.
He jerked his head up, staring at me. There was a certain puzzlement to his look, and I realized that he wasn’t sure what was going on. Which meant he wasn’t clear on the fact that he was dead. That happened a lot, and it was a pain in the ass to deal with, but it had to be done with compassion as well. When the dead were pissed or startled, they could act out in all sorts of unpleasant ways, even if they didn’t mean to.
What do you want? He mouthed the words but I could catch them because even though he might think he was talking aloud, he was projecting them with his mind.
What happened to you?
He frowned again. What do you mean?
I glanced at the hand sticking out from beneath the leaves and pointed to it. What happened?
I don’t know. I found him like that, whoever he is.
Okay, so he didn’t realize that was his body. Now came the hard part. What’s your name?
Josh Fine. Who are you?
I’m Raven BoneTalker. Um, Josh, what’s the last thing you remember before you saw me in the park?
Well, I was walking through those trees. I like taking an early morning walk when it’s snowy. I… He paused, looking confused. I remember thinking that today was going to be a good day because…there was something I was going to do, but I can’t remember now. And then I must have pulled a muscle because something hurt and…then…I saw you.