Sierra Woods - The Resurrectionist

“Is that a bad thing?” Hardly. I know better, but can’t resist teasing him sometimes, and my irritation disappeared. There’s so little joy in my life, I have to take it where I can get it.

He rubbed the back of his neck as if it ached. Having known him for a year or so, I picked up on little nonverbal signals, and this was one of them. Something was up that he didn’t like and didn’t want to talk about. Wonder what it was? He’d eventually talk, but until then, he’d stay clammed up. I should start calling him Sam-The-Clam.

After getting up from the chair, he strolled around to my side of the desk and leaned a hip on the edge. Hmm. Our flirtations over the past year have always been restricted to arm’s length. This was new. Wonder if it had anything to do with that neck issue of his and the one growing between my shoulder blades? There was either something coming, or my gallbladder was having an attack.

“You need more sleep.” He ran a finger down the side of my face. “The rings under your eyes aren’t going away.”

“I don’t wear much makeup, so they’re easier to see.” Maybe that makeup sale was still on. I could pick up a spackling tool on the way back.

“You’re beautiful with or without makeup, but you’re also damned tired. I can see it every time you walk in here that you’re burning out. Can you take a week off and get out of town? Relax on a beach with a fruity drink and a book somewhere?”

“Could you?” As if. We’re both chained to our work.

“Is that a proposition?” There was that damned grin again and a new tingle in my stomach to go with it. Interesting, but it ain’t gonna happen.

“Hardly.” I shoved him off my desk. When he’s too close to me I get distracted, and sometimes I think that’s what he’s after. “Go arrest someone, will you?”

He took a step away and rubbed the back of his neck. “No rituals tonight?”

“None so far.”

“Make sure you call me if anything comes up.” That dark, guarded look was back in his eyes. There was something behind it. Something he hid that crept out at times despite his efforts to bury it.

“You’re taking the bossy thing to a new level today.” I glared. I didn’t need a babysitter.

“It’s my job, babe.” Serious now, he held my gaze as if he wanted to say something else, but held back. Yeah, he was a man of secrets, and I wasn’t likely to penetrate that barrier he erected every time I asked him a personal question. Sometimes I just can’t help myself and must ask. Just makes my day to irritate other people.

“So what’s going on with you today? I’m getting a weird vibe from you.” I raised my brows and waited for the answer I knew wasn’t coming.

“Nothing.” Slam. That door in his eyes closed, but I knew something was bothering him.

“You’re lying, I can see it. If something’s up, I need to know. If you don’t share, dude, then neither do I.” That broke all the rules of my agreement with the P.D., but right now I didn’t care. Something was up.

Narrowing his eyes, he tried to stare me down, but failed. I know his tricks, and he sighed. “There’s something I can’t get a hold on. Something in the air.”

“In the air? Could you be vaguer?” My turn to frown.

He stood and spun away. “Never mind. If anything concrete shows up, I’ll let you know.”

“If you’ve got a feeling about something, I want to know, even if you think it’s nothing.”

“Like I said, when it’s concrete, I’ll let you know.” His hand drifted to his neck again, but I kept silent. Miracles do happen. Sam gave me a crumb.

He’s my assigned protector from the P.D. I’ve been through private training like you wouldn’t believe. I know a thing or two about guns and how to protect myself, but when I perform the rituals my focus is internal. That’s when I’m vulnerable and need someone to watch over me. A big, bad, hunky cop like Sam will do. Sometimes I resent that I need one, but it’s become obvious I do. The security guards offer some protection, but there’s something about Sam in particular that needs to be there. I don’t know what yet, and it’s pissing me off.

“Like I said, it’s my job.” He gave that tight little smile he has when he has to do something he doesn’t want to. Talk about control issues.

“Yes, I know. You’re the liaison, blah, blah, blah.” I get so tired of the blah, blah, blah sometimes. “But you’re off your game, and that affects me whether you know it or not.” Well, I guess he knows now.

“Yes, I am. One of these nights we’re going to have more trouble than we bargained for.” Concern emanated from his eyes and a little something twisted between my shoulder blades. That’s my signal something is wrong.

I hope it isn’t an omen. Not that I believe in them, not seriously, but I sort of wish for a bit more protection at times. Something small and inconspicuous, like the Spear of Isis. That’s all.

With a nod he left, and I tried to return to the work in front of me, but it didn’t keep my attention.

I’d had a sense of foreboding for a week now and didn’t know why. Maybe that’s what I was getting from Sam. He has senses finely tuned from his military service that I’ll never get close to, but he’s so damned closed-mouthed sometimes, I just want to strangle him.

I must resist.

Chapter 2

The sound of a skateboard on the sidewalk always gets on my nerves. I never know whether I’m going to get run down by a herd of teenagers, or if there is a message from my mentor, Burton. This time it was Burton and the muscles in my back tensed. I’m going to need a painkiller by the end of the day if this keeps up.

“Where you been, chica?” He knows that any reference to my ethnic backgrounds will get my immediate attention. When I went to nursing school, I applied for scholarships based on my three ethnic groups, but was denied two of them. Bastards.

“Oh, get off it, Burton. What do you want?” Sometimes I have no patience for the man. Sometimes I want to cuff him just because he’s such a piece of work. Any spiritual entity that’s four thousand years old shouldn’t be such a smart-ass. There’s just something wrong with that.

“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay? I’m fine.” I narrowed my eyes, immediately suspicious. Him, I never quite trust. “You’ve never asked me how I am before. What’s up?” That niggle between my shoulders was aching again.

“The other-siders have a sense something’s changing in the universe. They want to make sure you and other resurrectionists are unharmed.”

“Unharmed?” Maybe that was why Sam and I had had uncomfortable feelings we couldn’t name. “Who would want to harm us?” Aside from the obvious.

“The Dark.”

“What the hell is that?” As if I needed something to screw up my life more. The judicial system was enough.

“The entity who has disrupted the balance, and grows larger and more dangerous every time evil wins out over good. It is a congealed group of dark souls that has banded together from the deepest part of the nebula. They had been banished for their misdeeds while earthbound and have gathered to form a darker, stronger being. It’s made a declaration to stop the resurrectionists, but most especially you.”

“Me? Why me? What about the others out there?” He said it as if this thing had challenged me to a game of checkers. Was he serious?

“Of that we are uncertain. They ask that you take no unnecessary risks until the threat has passed.”

Jeez. Could they be more nebulous? Unnecessary risks? What the hell was that? Every day I take on a case, and the risk I take with my body and my life to send killers to the nebula is a huge risk. What about that seems unnecessary? I thought they were out there to help me. And I know that most threats generally don’t just pass by without slapping you upside the head.