A Ghoulish Midlife (Witching After Forty #1) - Lia Davis Page 0,21

I referred to was one that my Yaya and Auntie spoke of often. They seemed to think that I would grow into my powers and one day be one of the elite group of necromancers that possessed powers beyond just raising the dead and creating undead creatures.

According to my necromancer half of my family, the first born of the seventh generation of necromancers would be blessed with great powers. Supposedly, those powers included bringing back the dead, animating the undead so they were human, and a number of impossible abilities. All of which I’d never shown any signs of.

If I was this all powerful seventh generation necromancer, then would it have been hard for me to suppress the power for as long as I had? I thought that much power wouldn’t want to be hidden away. Hence why I didn’t believe in the stories passed down through my father’s side of the family.

Because that was all the prophecy was—a story.

“Excuse me.” A deliciously husky male voice pulled me from my thoughts and my personal conversation with my BFF.

Even through my shock and upset at William’s death, I couldn’t help but shiver at the timbre of the man’s voice.

I lifted my gaze and spotted Sheriff Drew, who I hadn’t realized was there. He must have just arrived.

When he started to walk over to us, my heart skipped a few beats. I admired how he filled out every inch of his uniform. Hot damn, he looked more like a stripper in a cop uniform than an actual cop. Had they ordered him a shirt a size too small? Because slow claps to whoever did that.

I bet it was that old secretary at the police department. She was a hundred if she was a day, and it seemed like she was always out on the front lawn of the police department with a menthol in one hand, talking to the officers, even when we were kids. I’d bet she was exactly the same nowadays. When I was young, she was always inside the police department with her menthols. Sam’s dad was an officer at the time, and Sam and I spent half our childhood at the precinct.

“Hello, Sheriff.” As soon as my words left my mouth, he smiled. Damn if the lift of his lips didn’t make me weak in the knees.

However, his smile vanished almost as fast as it appeared. “I wish running into you wasn’t at a crime scene.”

Yes, too bad… Blinking, I studied him while slowly his aura drifted around me. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out what it was about him that was other. I still couldn’t pinpoint it. He wasn’t a witch or a vampire. The fact that he was out in the sunlight confirmed the latter. Somehow, though, he wasn’t totally human either.

“I’m assuming Sam got your statement.” He flicked his gaze to Sam then back to me.

“Yeah. My official and unofficial statement.”

Sam nudged me with his elbow at my statement. He should know I don’t have a filter on most days. So, I nudged him back.

Drew noticed our exchange, but he didn’t comment. Clever man. “Ma’am, they tell me you discovered the body?”

Ma’am? Was he getting back at me for not calling him Drew?

Whatever. Calling him by his first name was too personal. We just met, briefly in a freaking grocery store. We weren’t at the stage of being personal.

I hadn’t had a chance to ask Sam how much Drew knew about the supernatural, so instead of assuming he knew, I assumed he didn’t know. Better to be safe than have to explain away my crazy. “I took out some trash and found him. I didn’t move the body or look behind the dumpster, so I didn’t realize it was someone I knew until they pulled the dumpster out.”

Just then, a couple of paramedics wheeled a stretcher out of the alley with a deep black body bag on it. My heart broke for my friend. I wondered if anyone had called his wife.

“How did you know he was dead if you didn’t see his face?” Drew asked with his pencil poised over his notebook.

Well, I couldn’t say it was because I was a keeper of the undead, now could I?

Clint spoke up. He’d walked up with Drew. I was in such a daze I hadn’t noticed. Geez. I needed to snap it together. “We checked his pulse on his ankle,” he said. “Didn’t touch him otherwise.”

“William!” A new voice interrupted us and sent