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"His name is Foras Wilkinson," I replied. "I knew his father Bertram; he was an elder and we served on the force together for many years."
"An elder," the Captain repeated, like he was piecing together the puzzle.
Milan asked, "Is it possible that Bertram told his son about the forbidden library?"
"It's possible," I shrugged, "But not likely. Bertram was a good man and an excellent detective. He also knew the elders' rules, so I don't think he'd tell anyone about the library."
"You told us," Mullins argued. "Hell, you took us there."
"Touche," I shrugged again. "Maybe he did tell Foras, or maybe his son weaseled it out of another elder. Regardless, Foras obviously knows the spell now."
"Where is Bertram?" Milan asked. "Maybe he could help us."
"Bertram died in the line of duty," I replied sadly. "He was shot point blank from behind by someone on a cocaine-fueled fit. The poor bastard never even saw the guy coming."
Milan's face fell, and I took his hand in mine to offer comfort as I added, "It was reported that the attacker fled, and was never caught, but the truth is, word traveled between other officers about what happened to Bertram and…well, let's just say his killer died before he ever saw the inside of a cell."
"I didn't hear that," Mullins mumbled, rubbing his temples.
"And I didn't say it," I insisted. I never would have told the secret if it weren't important to our current case. "But Bertram’s son Foras did flee. He was so distraught over his father's death that it was said he left the country. And to my knowledge, nobody heard from him until now."
"And now we're fucked," the Captain said exasperatedly. "The son of an elder is surely a powerful force to be reckoned with."
I shook my head. "He wasn't when I knew him. Bertram tried to train him and share his knowledge, but Foras always struggled with his powers. The few spells he could perform were immobilization spells," which made sense, given how he attacked his victims. He'd perfected the art, and was seemingly looking to gather more. With every kill, he was becoming stronger. "If I had to venture a guess, I'd say Foras wants to carry out the spell to finally be powerful; even more so than his father."
"Or it could be something else," Milan interjected. "The incantation said that the user could raise their lost kin from their eternal sleep. What if he's trying to bring Bertram back?"
"God help us if he does," Mullins sighed. "Nothing good comes from necromancy; it's pure evil. When a person is brought back from the dead, they're not as they were in life. Their soul is gone. They're an empty shell; a vessel to be controlled. They have the powers they held in life, but they're at the mercy of the one who brought them back."
I summarized, "Foras could raise a powerful army that would be at his bidding."
"And he's only one step away from doing so," Captain Mullins added. "He needs the soul of a grieving person. I've instructed officers to guard the lawyer's widow in case the fucker tries to feed on what he caused."
"He'll leave her alone," Milan spoke up. "It's me he wants." My heart sank as he explained, "He claimed that he could smell my grief, and that he'd see me soon. I'm the last one on his list."
Unfortunately, it made perfect sense. Foras knew the pain, confusion, and grief of losing a loved one in the line of duty, and that Milan's emotions would be strong enough to complete the spell.
"You're not leaving my side," I insisted, and Milan looked both relieved and slightly taken aback by my forceful tone. But I wasn't backing down. "I can't let anything happen to you. I will protect you with my life." His expression softened and he squeezed my hand.
“So, I take it that he knows now?” Mullins asked, tipping his head towards Milan. When I nodded, he sighed. “Damn. It was fun watching you squirm.” I rolled my eyes while Milan chuckled. “But I agree; Patel, don’t leave Prince’s sight. I also want you two to stay here at the station until we catch this bastard.”
“But I can help you catch him,” Milan protested. “We know he wants me; use me as bait.”
“No,” Mullins and I both answered sternly, and the Captain added, “I appreciate your dedication, but I’m not going to put you in unnecessary harm. I want you constantly surrounded by as many officers as possible. You are to eat, sleep, and shit here until I tell you otherwise. Are we clear?”
Milan didn’t look happy about his orders at all, but he acquiesced, “Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Prince, go take care of your mate.”
“Yes, Sir,” I also agreed, but I was much more willing and excited in my reply.
