Jeaniene Frost - One Grave at a Time

Despite the maelstrom in his mind, Chris’s bearded chin thrust out.

“Don’t threaten my crew.”

Bones’s brow ticked up. “Or you’ll do what?” he asked mildly.

Chris swallowed hard. “I won’t finish the trap you’re so interested in,” he replied. If I hadn’t heard his mental prayer that these wouldn’t turn out to be his last words, I’d have sworn he had balls of steel.

Bones clapped Chris on the shoulder in a friendly way that still caused the other man to flinch. “I could trance you into doing the same, but you’ve got bravery and loyalty, both of which I value. Keep your crew in line, and you’ll have no worries.”

“They can’t help their thoughts, Bones,” I pointed out. Sure, I’d been annoyed at Graham’s crude musings, but clearly not as pissed as Bones if they’d triggered a telekinetic response he didn’t know he was capable of.

Then again, anger had usually been the trigger with my borrowed abilities, and that was before I’d known I had them, too. Maybe anger was just the normal way new abilities manifested themselves. How was I supposed to know?

“Now they’re warned that their thoughts aren’t private, so they have only themselves to blame if they don’t keep a leash on them,” was his unrelenting reply. “They should be focused on the task at hand, not on insolently pondering whether you fabricated tales of a ghost because you neglected your medication, were desperate for attention, or crazed from your monthlies.”

“Jesus, Graham,” Chris muttered.

“Figures. Every time something happens with a woman, you guys always bring up her period,” Lexie said, to an accompanying snort of agreement from Nancy.

Graham flushed. “I didn’t say it out loud.”

“And now you know that doesn’t matter,” Bones stated curtly, green flashing in his eyes again.

I cleared my throat to defuse the tension. “Okay, everyone relax and remember we just have to get through completing the trap. Then you’ll go on with your lives with a nice fat bonus, and there’ll be one less murdering creep floating around. I think we can all agree that’s a goal worth working toward.”

Cautious murmurs of assent sounded, but I hadn’t been looking for a fervent chorus of “whoo hoo’s!” so that was good enough for me.

“Bones.” I gave a weary glance out the window where the sun was starting to creep up over the horizon. “Let’s get some sleep. We have a lot to do later.”

I’d just finished putting away the groceries when my cell phone rang, its musical cadence shattering the quiet. It was just Bones and I in the house at the moment. We’d dropped the others off at the cave while we gathered enough odds and ends to keep half a dozen humans comfortable during their stay here.

I expected to see Tyler or Chris’s cell number when I grabbed my phone, but instead the word BLOCKED appeared. Telemarketer, I thought in annoyance, and was about to hit IGNORE when I paused. What if it was someone calling on Fabian’s behalf? The ghost had to rely on others to make a call for him since he lacked the ability to physically dial, and his voice came through only as static over the phone. Fabian might have shown up at the hotel last night only to find all of us checked out and no information on where we’d gone to. Even if he’d thought to try the cave and heard from Tyler where we were staying now, with all the garlic and weed I was sporting in my clothes, not to mention what was set up around the house, Fabian might not be able to reach me.

Just in case it was a solicitor, though, I answered the phone with an unfriendly-sounding hello.

“Crawfield?” an equally abrupt voice asked.

No telemarketer would have my correct name since this number was listed under one of my many aliases. But though that voice was vaguely familiar, I couldn’t place a name to it.

“Who’s this?”

“Jason Madigan.”

Ah, the team’s infamous new operations consultant. From his tone, Madigan’s sourpuss mood hadn’t improved since our first meeting.

“To what do I owe this honor?” I asked dryly.

“You owe it to a complete lack of discretion about supernaturally sensitive information,” was his cold, measured reply.

I needed his attitude like I needed an extra pair of tits on my ass. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Care to start making sense?” Or is that too much to ask, Mr. Brass Tacks? I mentally added.

“From where your cell is transmitting, I’m guessing you’re at your former childhood residence,” he stated, pissing me off more that he must’ve started tracking my signal as soon as I picked up. “A chopper will be there to pick you up in thirty minutes.”

“Sorry, but you’ll just have to tell me what’s up over the phone. I have other plans for tonight,” I said, waving Bones over and mouthing Madigan while pointing at my cell.

“If you refuse to come, your visitation privileges at the compound will be permanently revoked.”

A distinct click punctuated that sentence. Good thing, too, since I’d taken a deep breath so I could tell the consultant in explicit terms where he could shove his ultimatum, and that wouldn’t have been smart. He probably could revoke my visitation privileges if he tattled on me to the higher-ups for cursing him out the way I was about to.

“What does he want, Kitten?”

“Death by fang if he keeps this up,” I spat, my temper leaking out despite my efforts to rein it in. “I don’t know,” I amended with a tight sigh. “But now I know how frustrated Chris felt when you pointed out that he couldn’t stop you if you decided to do something he didn’t like. Karma’s a bitch, right?”

Both dark brows arched. “Going to elaborate on what you mean?”

“If I don’t drop everything and let myself be whisked away to the compound, so Madigan can chew me out for God-knows-what, then I only get to see my mother and the guys when they’re off base. Which, as you know, isn’t that often.”

Bones didn’t react with instant anger as I’d done. Instead, he tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Good way to find out if your uncle’s discovered anything of import on the bloke, so let him feel like he’s won this round. It’ll only be to our benefit.”

Of course. If I didn’t let Madigan push my buttons so effectively, I’d have come to the same conclusion. Don also didn’t know that he couldn’t zip to my side whenever he wanted to anymore. Aside from seeing if he’d come up with any dirt on Madigan, it was also important to let my uncle know about my change in supernatural status.

“You’ll have to stay here, Bones. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be back in time to pick everyone up from the cave.”

It wouldn’t be right to ask Chris’s team to wait in a damp, chilly cave most of the night, especially since they’d had to bunk on the floor without food last night. But I’d be damned if I’d ask our helicopter escort to pick up the gang first before flying us back to the house. Madigan might know about my old childhood home, but I wasn’t about to give up the cave’s location to him, too.

Bones’s scent and the scrape of his emotions across mine let me know how much he didn’t like the idea of my going alone, but at last, he nodded.

“You’ll take sage in case Kramer manages to locate you again.”

Right, because I couldn’t show up to see Madigan covered in weed and garlic. Even if that wouldn’t be cause for a lot of questions, which it would, that mixture would keep Don away from me, defeating half the purpose of going.

“I’ll call you when I’m on my way back,” I said, brushing his sculpted cheekbones with the tips of my fingers. “You keep some sage close by, too, and if Helsing starts to screech, light it.”