Dead and Gone (Grave Talker Book 2) Page 2

  Bishop relieved me of my giant Zip-Lock. The contents were likely just my bloody clothes and hopefully a cellphone and the keys to my house. Overtaking me to beat me to the passenger door, he opened it with a gallant flourish.

  It had been a while since anyone had opened my door for me other than J. J was a good old Southern boy who’d been conditioned by his mama. Bishop was a whole different animal.

  “Don’t look so stunned, Darby. You’ll start catching flies.”

  Snapping my mouth shut, I slid into the truck. I wasn’t a short woman, but I still needed to do a little hop to seat myself. Inside, the vehicle smelled like rich leather and brand-new car. If the thing had just fallen off the assembly line, I wouldn’t have been surprised. There wasn’t a speck of dust on the dash, not an errant crumb in the cupholder. I kept my Jeep clean, but this was clean.

  Bishop rounded the truck and took the driver’s seat, and it reminded me of the last time I’d been in a car with him. He’d taken care of me when I’d been exhausted and scared, got me food, and drove me home. I still wondered if he’d done it to keep an eye on me or if it was something else.

  Likely feeling my stare, he met my gaze. “What?”

  I couldn’t help it; I asked the question I’d been dying to ask him since I heard his voice. “Why are you here? Why out of everyone are you the one to pick me up?”

  Something akin to shame crossed his expression. “I know what you did. I know, Darby. You saved my ass. You… I just know what you sacrificed, okay?”

  I wondered if Sarina told him or if it was someone else.

  Did it matter? No.

  Would I rather him not know? Absolutely.

  Bishop knowing about the deal wasn’t horrible or anything, it just made me feel weird and awkward and stupid. And desperate.

  The man brought your father back from the dead, even though it was a potential death sentence. Get over your awkward, Darby.

  My inner voice was dealing in hard truths today.

  I shrugged. “It just means we’re square. You saved my dad. I saved your bacon. Even-Steven.”

  Bishop leaned over the center console, getting right in my space as much as the truck would allow. “We are not square, Adler, and you know it. I owe you.”

  This felt like flirting, but I was way too frazzled to do anything about it. The best I could do—because I was a socially inept nerd who hadn’t had a date since the dawn of fucking time—was shrug.

  Why, oh, why could I face him down when he was an asshole, but when he was nice, I got all… weird?

  I began digging in the Si Señor bag for more goodies. “I shall take my payment in food, thank you.”

  Someone shoot me, please.

  But my mouth would not let a question go unasked. “Were you flirting with me just then? I’m merely asking for educational purposes, so if you weren’t, that is totally fine.”

  Bishop let out a bark of laughter, tossing his head back in a supremely sexy way as his whole body shook. Wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, he started the truck and put it in gear. “Yes, Adler, that was flirting. How long has it been since you had a date?”

  I didn’t even have to think about it. “College. I dated a guy for about a month before things got weird. When you talk to ghosts all the time, it’s tough to keep a relationship. Either you know shit you aren’t supposed to know, which makes you look like a stalker, or they think you’re cheating on them because you look like you’re talking on the phone to randos all the time. It was fucking exhausting, so I quit. Plus, Haunted Peak isn’t exactly a hotbed of male prospects. Either they think I’m the town weirdo, have a creepy cop fetish and want me to handcuff them, or they think I’m batting for the other team. Plus, there is also a whole subset of misogynistic assholes who think that I shouldn’t be a cop at all.”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” he said while wiping at the air like he was trying to wash my words away. “Back up. You haven’t dated anyone since college?” His voice even turned up at the end, almost in a squeak.

  I bit into my taco while belatedly putting on my seatbelt. “Pretty much. I’m literally never alone, Bishop. Ne-ver. It’s too exhausting to hide it all the time. You try dating a guy while his Aunt Mildred keeps shooting disapproving looks at you. Why do you think I have the best closed-case record in the county? It isn’t because I have a personal life.”

  The only person with a record as clean as mine was J, and that was because he didn’t date too much, either. It wasn’t like he was in the closet or anything. J was just the pickiest man on the planet. I really needed to set him and Jimmy up.

  “Okay.” Bishop nodded thoughtfully. “How come you haven’t dated any arcaners, then? You wouldn’t have to hide from them.”

  How would I explain it? “Real talk? I haven’t dated in so long, I wouldn’t know where to start. I don’t know how to flirt, and I’m pretty sure I’ve forgotten how to kiss.”

  Amongst other things.

  “So if an arcaner who was super into you wanted to ask you out on a date, you would say…”

  My lips pulled up into a grin all on their own. “Are you asking me on a date? Because that would affect my answer.”

  Bishop rolled to a stop at a light and shot me a look. “Doesn’t know how to flirt my ass. Yes, I’m the one asking in this hypothetical scenario. What would you say then?”

  I pretended to think about it, tapping my bottom lip with my finger for effect. “Will there be food on this date?”

  The side of Bishop’s mouth curled up. “Of course. Can’t have you cranky.”

  “Then, sure,” I chirped, shrugging like it was no big deal. My squirmy insides would beg to differ, but he didn’t need to know that.

  “That’s it? All I have to do is promise you food, and I’m in? Some standards, Adler.”

  It was my turn to laugh. “If you want me to, I can put you through the wringer. I figured we had enough history, you probably aren’t a serial killer or a terrorist. Though, it’s not like I can do a background check on you, now can I?”

  “Not exactly. But Sarina would tell you all you wanted to know. There isn’t a search database alive that can hold a candle to her.”

  “Then I guess I don’t have anything to worry about.”

  Bishop muttered under his breath as he shook his head. I munched on tacos and fought off a smile. It had been a very long time since I’d flirted with anyone. Warmth suffused me as I kept right on eating. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had this much joy, this much relief. Usually, there was Hildy hanging around or a case to solve. There was a ghost to ignore or a whisper to pretend I wasn’t hearing.

  It felt strangely reminiscent of my childhood before my abilities came. If it weren’t for the faint buzzing of Bishop’s soul reminding me he was alive and would be for a very long time, I could almost forget the last nine months. I could forget the needle sticks and biopsies. For a few minutes, I could almost believe the tests and prodding, and questions were just a horrible dream.

  It wasn’t long until we were back in Haunted Peak. My hometown was less town and more a small city. With over a hundred thousand people, it seemed to butt against the neighboring Knoxville more and more each year. It wasn’t hard to miss the place, either. I’d lived here my whole life.

  A life I’d thought was as happy as it could have been, given my penchant for talking to dead people. A small trill of anxiety filled me the closer we got to my house. I hadn’t spoken to J or my dad or anyone in nearly a year. I hadn’t gone a day without talking to either of them in longer than I could remember. Even though I was still pissed at my dad, I didn’t want J thinking I’d abandoned him.

  We’d had our ups and downs, but J had been the first person I’d told about Hildy and my odd little abilities. And if he didn’t think I ghosted him, I wondered what he’d say about my actions up at Whisper Lake. It wasn’t every day you saw your best friend stop an unhinged sorceress from raising a fucking deity.

  Shuddering, I tried to wipe
that entire experience from my brain. If I could have bleached it, I would have. A part of me wondered about my safety this close to the mountain. Knowing what was buried there, I contemplated whether or not Haunted Peak was the right place for me at all. But the other piece of my soul longed for my bed and my shower. Wanted the peace my home provided.

  A peace that was instantly shattered when I spotted an unfamiliar car parked in my driveway.

  “You know that car?” Bishop asked, his voice pitched low like someone could be listening as he pulled in behind the car, blocking it in.

  When I shook my head, he bent to his ankle to draw his backup weapon. Handing it to me, I checked the mag and chambered a round. He killed his truck, and the pair of us got out at the same time. Bishop signaled that he would go around back, but I snagged a hand on his shirt.

  With some back and forth—mostly in a truncated sort of sign language that barely gave each other the gist—he came around to my way of thinking. I gave him the nod, and his hands lit up with black and purple swirls of magic. With a flick of his fingers, my door flew open, revealing a pantsuit-clad woman in my favorite chair.

  A woman I’d hoped to avoid for the rest of forever if I was lucky.

  Mariana Adler.

  3

  My mother’s blonde hair was coiffed in Hollywood-style glam waves, pairing perfectly with her red-painted lips. Her crisp suit and high heels and laissez faire attitude made me want to smash something. Add that to our strained relationship, and I had a hell of a time lowering my weapon.

  Would the world miss a conniving grave talker with a penchant for keeping or spilling life-altering secrets at her mercurial whims? Likely not.

  Mariana stared at my raised weapon with an unimpressed raised eyebrow, kind of like a mother would look at a tantrum-throwing toddler.

  Fine, then.

  I rolled my eyes and cleared the weapon before handing it back to Bishop. I didn’t need it anyway, and she knew it. “You’re not welcome here. How about you do me an epic favor, and get the fuck out?”

  It was bad enough she abandoned me and my father. Showing up here uninvited was just salt in the wound.

  Mariana’s smile was slow and bitchy. “Is that any way to talk to your mother?”

  I couldn’t help it, I gave her an indelicate scoff, the following laugh unbearably bitter. “My mother’s dead. She died when I was nine. My father and I buried her. You’re just some bitch wearing her face. Now get the fuck out of my house. You. Are not. Welcome here.”

  Mariana uncrossed and recrossed her legs, settling in for the long haul, and I had the urge to snatch Bishop’s gun back and shoot her in the kneecap.

  She’d heal. Probably.

  “Don’t you want to know why I’m here?” she asked, and I was reminded of Bishop sitting in that same chair asking me that same question. I had to wonder if that move was standard ABI protocol.

  “I really don’t. And I’ll tell you just like I told Hildy. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to know you. You are not welcome in my space. Now, I can exert some influence on Hildy because he’s no longer alive. Would you like to join him?”

  Mariana threw her head back and laughed.

  She. Fucking. Laughed.

  While sitting in my house, in my chair, knowing who my real father was and the power that was still thrumming in my veins. I didn’t even get a chance to think about it before my feet carried me across the room and I was all the way in her space. Leaning over her in the chair, I put my face three inches from hers.

  “Laugh again. I fucking dare you.”

  Mariana broke her gaze from mine to stare at my arms which were lit up like a damn Christmas tree. Her eyes traveled down my arms to my hands, which were gripping the chair and in serious danger of ripping it apart.

  “Still juiced up, I see.” Mariana’s smile was snide, the arrogant twist to her lips practically begging me to slap the shit out of her. “I wonder what would happen if you got this angry at a human.”

  That doused my anger in a big, cold rush.

  “Would they see you light up like a glowworm, exposing your secret and the existence of the arcane? Hmmm…” She seemed to ponder this thought, tapping her lip with a bright-red fingertip.

  I straightened, taking three steps back as her intent became clear.

  I’d just failed a test.

  A big one.

  “Well, since I don’t think suspects are ready and willing to break into a cop’s house, and I seriously doubt any of them betrayed me by faking their own death, I feel pretty confident it won’t be an issue.”

  Mariana glanced past me and leveled Bishop with a skewering expression. “Have you seen her use her abilities in a public setting since her release?”

  Oh, shit. Shitshitshit.

  He totally had. I’d lit up like a glowstick when I punched Hildy in the face. And Bishop saw.

  Fuuuucccccckkkkkkk.

  “No, Director, not that I saw,” Bishop rumbled, lying through his fucking teeth like a pro. “Although we discussed difficult topics, Adler has displayed remarkable restraint.”

  Did she send him?

  I didn’t want the thought to cross my brain, but it did. I’d assumed it was Sarina who’d told Bishop about my release, but it just as easily could have been my mother. He’d never said one way or the other who had sent him to pick me up.

  It was as if I’d been kicked in the gut. Even though he’d just lied to her for me, it felt wrong. All of this felt wrong.

  “Very good. You are dismissed, Agent La Roux. Report to Agent Kenzari to receive your next assignment,” Mariana said, shooing Bishop out of my house like she had the right.

  “Excuse me,” I practically shouted, ready to rip her in half, but Bishop stopped me.

  “No, she’s right,” he murmured, putting a calming hand on my arm. “I need to get back. Good to see you again, Adler.” He gave my mother a deferential head nod. “Director.”

  And then he was out the door, shutting it behind him with a soft click.

  I was still staring at the stupid thing when Mariana started chuckling, her snide mirth practically begging me to launch her into outer space.

  “And you’re still here because?” I sniped.

  “I’m still here because you have an assignment,” she said matter-of-factly, like I was just supposed to hop-to and do her bidding.

  “Assignment? Yeah, bitch, I don’t work for you. I have a life I’d like to get back to. But you can take the runner-up prize of getting out of my house and never showing your face ever again. How about that?”

  Mariana smiled so wide, I thought her face might crack. “And what’s stopping me from putting your plea bargain in the shredder and terminating Killian’s life? What’s stopping me from tossing your boyfriend in jail? What, pray tell, is holding me back from wiping Jeremiah’s mind until he’s a drooling mess on the floor? Or tossing that coven you care so much about into a hole just like I did your father?”

  I opened my mouth to answer her, but she put up a hand. “No need for posturing, dear, it doesn’t become you. I’ll give you the answer. Nothing. Not one thing is stopping me. Except your compliance. Now, you might think that killing me will give you your desired outcome, but I assure you, it will not. I have plenty of people on my side who don’t seem to like you very much. If anything were to happen to me, I guarantee they won’t be as nice as I am. So…” She paused, letting me digest the grenade she just dropped on my life. “You have an assignment.”

  I was tempted to just see if she was telling the truth. I may not be an outright murderer—unless you counted Tabitha, and I didn’t—but I was very interested in proving her theory.

  Rather than setting her on fire, I did the super-adult thing and went to the kitchen. Crossing my fingers that Siobhan wasn’t talking out of her ass about my fridge not being a rancid mess, I yanked open the freezer. Pleasantly surprised to find it fully stocked, I unearthed a bottle of vodka from under a bag
of chicken nuggets and went about preparing a cocktail. I dumped a fair amount of the booze into a tall water glass along with some orange juice and a splash of cranberry. A quick stir later, and I was sipping my drink while I waited for Mariana to get the fucking lead out.

  I should have known when I signed that agreement, she would figure out a way to fuck me over. After all she’d spilled about my real father, I should have figured she would try to keep me tethered. I mean… the man—nope, not a man—had murdered hundreds of people before they managed to put him down, imprisoning him under tons and tons of mountain.

  And they’d only done that because they couldn’t kill him. I suppose that was the fun fact about being the actual incarnate of death, dying wasn’t on the menu for beings like that.

  Yes, my father was the Angel of Death.

  As if I didn’t have enough problems.

  Mariana rose from my chair and strode across the scant space, taking a seat at the bar. Like she’d done before, she waited in silence, trying to get me to fill the dead air. It hadn’t worked before, and it wouldn’t work now. I didn’t want to talk to her. Hell, I didn’t even want to look at her. She’d just threatened to imprison, maim, or murder literally everyone I cared about. What the fuck were we going to talk about? Smoothie recipes?

  I continued to sip my vodka-laden juice, my patience wearing thin.

  But not before hers.

  She slapped a file onto the bar with a smack. Where she’d pulled it from was anyone’s guess. She opened the folder and spun it for my inspection. I didn’t bother looking at it.

  “Your first assignment will be to solve these cold cases. There was a string of murders from 1995 through 2001 that have never been solved. Each victim was a fringe member of the arcane with little support. Since we didn’t have a grave talker on staff at the time, nor did we have much to go on, the murders went cold. While it had been suggested that the cases were related, the evidence just isn’t there.”

  I gave her my coldest glare. She wanted me to jump through fiery hoops with no more than a faint suggestion of a connection and exactly dick to go on? And I was, what, supposed to work on this in my spare time?