“I already knew,” he says.
Sometimes Things Go Right
Dodger
What the hell? Up is down. Left is right. Melody is a ghost cat and not a ghost dog now. Okay, not really.
Nothing makes sense.
“You already know?” I repeat.
“I do.” Harper nods. “Well, I suspected, but you just confirmed it.”
He already knows that my brother has taken the blame for killing his brother and sister-in-law when he summoned a dragon from another world and they died trying to stop the beast from hurting anyone.
But it doesn’t make any sense. A cold sweat breaks out across my forehead. How can Harper sit barely two feet away from me, the brother of his family’s murderer? His knee is almost touching mine, for fuck’s sake. I search his face for hatred, for disgust, but his golden eyes remain steady and calm.
He nudges me. “Are you alright there?”
“I’m supposed to be asking you that. How did you know who my brother was?”
“Detective, remember?” he huffs, perching on the coffee table behind him. “First, no necromancer is gonna show up in a city where people hate them, where they’re forbidden to even enter, not without a reason.”
Looks like he didn’t believe my ‘I wandered in by mistake’ lie. Okay, it wasn’t the best cover.
Harper concludes, “The public doesn’t know much about the unnamed necromancer blamed for the attack, but authorities have a list of suspected identities. Male necromancers who match the description and went missing in the right time frame. One of them is Jonathan Williamson, and your birth name is Kevin Williamson. I figured that wasn’t a coincidence.”
“You never said anything,” I point out.
“We didn’t get off to the best start, so I suspected you were holding back from the start.” Yeah, bringing up the homicides our families had in common wouldn’t exactly ease the tension between us. “Then I was waiting for you to bring it up.”
“I didn’t know before,” I explain. “I wasn’t able to do much snooping around before I got caught.”
“Sorry,” he says. “Maybe I should have said something. I thought you knew.”
“You really aren’t upset?”
“Like I told you before, being around you brought up some bad memories.” But not just because I was a necromancer. Because he suspected there was a connection between me and the man accused of killing his brother. “But you weren’t in Brighton five years ago. Hell, you weren’t even an adult five years ago, Dodger. You aren’t responsible for what happened. I know that. For a while you were the guy related to the man accused of killing my brother. Then you just became Dodger.”
He got to know me and the rest stopped mattering. My heart does a strange little stutter-step in my chest. I’m not a natural romantic at heart, but man, he makes me see the appeal.
Harper drops down on the couch next to me. Something he said catches up to me.
“Wait, you said my brother was accused of killing yours.” Accused of. Blamed for. That’s how he put it.
“Yeah.” He raises an eyebrow. “Thought we just established that.”
“Accused?” I repeat. “You don’t think he did it?”
“Do you?”
“Well, no, but—”
“Then I don’t either,” Harper says. Whoa. He didn’t even hesitate.
