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“We were eighteen when I figured it out for sure,” he said mildly as he wrapped the corpse up in the tarp and duct taped it shut like it was some strange gift. He stood up. “Been a minute since I knew. If it was going to change something with us, it would’ve happened years ago. You’re still my family.”
And I stood there watching him, trying to figure out how this conversation had happened after all this time.
“Gen?”
I met his gaze.
“Do you want to admit that Eli is hunting with you again while we’re clearing the air?”
I shook my head. “I was going to tell you.”
“I know. He told me accidentally, though.” Jesse stared like he was trying to will understanding directly into my mind. We both knew Eli did exactly nothing by accident.
“How?”
“I met Christy last night and—”
“Oh?” I’d been trying to set them up for a year.
“Yep.” Jesse said, popping the ‘p,’ but he didn’t spill any details. Instead, he said, “Eli asked about you. He gets a tone when he’s irritated with you.”
“So, you knew he saw me because he sounded irritated?” I glared at Jesse.
“When you two are around each other, he’s irritable, and you are happier.” Jesse grinned. “If I liked him more, I’d feel bad for him.”
“He’s likeable,” I muttered.
“You’re my only family, Gen. I’m honor-bound to dislike any man who looks at you like he does. And he looks. He wants to screw mysister, so I must hate him. It’s like a law or something.”
I sighed. I loved him in a way I doubted I could love another human, but sometimes I understood why siblings fought. He watched me as if I needed to defend myself or Eli. I wasn’t doing either.
After a tense moment, I pointed at the remains. “It’s dead, but I’d still feel better if you slept upstairs. I can stay down here to be sure—”
“No.” Jesse rolled his eyes. “It’s been reduced tobonesnow. Find some books. There’s a fifteenth centuryBook of Relicsthat I stowed in a hex box for you, but grab whatever else catches your eye.”
Despite the rest, my attention perked up. I had an excellent collection of esoteric magic and mysticism books thanks to Jesse. Some months, I was sure my book buys were what kept the shop afloat. The sensitive books were on display in enhanced glass boxes that were soldered to silver and steel pedestals. They couldn’t be removed without the keys that were woven into his skin and mine, so to buy any of those, either the buyer had to be an already approved customer or I had to vet them.
“And an illuminated cook book,” Jesse added.
“What year?”
My best friend laughed at my undisguised hope. “Not that one, I’m afraid. Still looking for it.”
I’d been searching for a seventh-century potion that I thought might yield a few new defenses. At least, I thought it was seventh-century. Record keeping was questionable with magic workers, and rumors were intentionally created. Still, all reliable data I’d found said that the seventh-century book was the real deal. I just needed to find the damn thing.
“Grab your new books.” Jesse pointed. “We’ll go up and get some rest. I already changed the linens in your room.”
“Not my room,” I muttered.
“The ‘guest’”—he made air quotes— “room that no one else ever uses because you keep clothes and swords and weird smelling tea bags in it.”
“Tea bags?” I laughed. “I’d like to see someone drink tea out of a spell bag. Wake up with a fucking bunny tail or who the hell knows!”
“Books, Gen.” Jesse waved me forward.
And then he stood there waiting until I’d retrieved my payment and accompanied him up to the apartment that was my second home.
I was hoping that we weren’t going to have a heart-to-heart about the fact that I would likely live on in some way after my heart stopped beating. Because the sheer truth was that my second life would only last as long as it took to starve. I wasn’t eating people. My earth-magic mother raised me as a g’damn vegetarian. If I couldn’t eat the flesh of a cow, how was I to eat people? No. Hard fucking no.
