Page 51 of Booked for Murder

“A book a day keeps the exsanguinator at bay,” he replied.

Mickey gave me a dose of the evil eye. “I can’t believe you’re her.”

I couldn’t tell if he loathed or loved my more infamous me. “Was it my glasses?” I countered.

“No, it’s how damned nice you are.”

Unsure of what to think about that, I glanced in Beatrice’s direction.

“You’ve always been kind to him, something we’ve bickered many an hour over, but your magic is basically his worst nightmare. He’s going to need a few weeks to get used to how someone who can be that nice can also be that capable of death, doom, and destruction. He’s ultimately won that argument, especially knowing you’re actually an adept with a rather frightening ability.”

“Well, the death part is certainly accurate, but I used my magic more often in the ER. I’ve always preferred saving lives rather than taking them. But if I want to have full control over my magic, I have to fully use my magic. That means the good and the bad. Otherwise, I lose control of what I don’t practice. The truth of the situation is this: I’m out of practice.”

“Speaking of which, I will bring my first bribes over tomorrow morning along with the materials you need to practice. I’ll also bring a rating bracelet to see what your suppression has done to your abilities.” Bradley turned his attention to Mickey. “The only way you’re going to learn to handle your phobia is through exposure, and if Janette has to use her ability while you’re around, you need to be used to it. If you’re out in the field and she’s forced to use her magic to defend the cell, she can’t worry about you fainting at the first drop of blood. What is it going to take to get you to come over while she’s practicing? You will be exposed to blood. Within a few weeks, you’ll probably have to make a trip or two with her to a slaughterhouse.”

Mickey grimaced. “It’s because I saw a murder when I was little, and all I can remember is the blood. All I can do is promise to try.”

I could understand his issue better than most thought possible; watching someone die left a mark, and some people handled it differently than others. The nature of my magic left a deep mark on me. Not a day went by without me understanding if I lost control, someone I cared about might die as a result. I’d adapted, as I’d had little choice in the matter.

My magic would always be a part of me, and even when hiding it, I remained aware of it lurking beneath my skin. To remind myself of what I was capable of, I unleashed the beast enough to become aware of the presence of blood around me, in my veins—and in theirs.

Something about Bradley’s mother caught my attention, and I frowned, concentrating to try to determine why something seemed amiss. It took me a moment to realize I sensed an unbalance in her blood, one I’d seen often enough in early diabetes. “Have you been to a doctor recently, Mrs. Hampton?”

Bradley’s mother scowled. “Seriously, Janette?” For a moment, I thought she’d cross the room and throttle me, but then she nodded.

“You haven’t told anyone you’re diabetic.”

That caught the attention of Bradley, Ren, and Jezabella, who stared at the woman with stunned expressions.

“Mom?”

“My sweet tooth caught up with me, and the orange juice I guzzled by the gallon finished it off. I didn’t start being a vegan because I liked the idea. I have a protein allergy to go with my damned diabetes. If it’s in the house, I’ll eat it, and as such, it doesn’t come in the house until I come to terms with my inability to not steal food I shouldn’t have. I see you’re as sensitive as ever, Janette.”

“Your blood sugar is off, enough I noticed when I decided to do a basic check with my magic. It’s something I looked for in the ER, because people used to come in with weird symptoms not realizing they’re diabetic. I could identify them the instant they walked through the door and notify triage. Check your meter, but do so in the bathroom or my bedroom so Mickey doesn’t see blood and faint. Though if you want to start trying to get used to it, watching her check her blood sugar is a good way to start, Mickey. It’s usually just a little prick, and it’s controlled.”

“I have a bloodless sensor, although I do have the old-fashioned prick variety in case I’m not sure about the reading. My doctor wants me to use both for now.” Muttering curses, Bradley’s mother retrieved her purse, shot me a glare promising retribution, and went to the bathroom. “I won’t tell if you faint, Mickey, but I make no promises your woman won’t come in checking on you in five minutes.”

While pale, Mickey got up and followed her into my bathroom, which would barely fit the pair.

“That’s not going to end well,” Beatrice predicted. “You can really tell that about someone just from looking at them. I thought that was just a myth. An exaggeration.”

Mickey’s adventure in my bathroom would end better than Beatrice believed possible; Bradley’s magic took on a different nature than his mother’s.

His mother could delve into the past of people rather than objects, and if anyone could help Mickey find the right path, it was her. I’d never asked how far she could make her talent go, but if she couldn’t help him, I had no doubt she knew someone who could.

Most believed the worst about adepts, but they were often like everyone else, ranging from good, bad, and everything in between. Most feared me because of what I might do rather than what I did do—and they always would. I’d learned that lesson early on.

No number of hours working in a hospital would erase the world’s misconceptions about me and my abilities.

“She’s really diabetic?” Jezabella whispered. “But why would she hide that?”

“Probably for the same reason it seems she hid the real reason she’s been controlling regarding the household diet.” I shrugged. “She wasn’t diabetic when I lived there. I would’ve spotted it early.”

I’d made a point of scanning the entire household in the morning and evening for anything in their blood that might cause a problem. After the accident, I’d stopped scanning everyone around me out of the fear of discovery, as a used talent grew.

I packed my magic back in its box where it belonged, relaxing when it obeyed my wishes, something I’d worried about from the day I’d started suppressing my ability so I’d remain undiscovered. In the morning, I’d try again to discover how much of my edge I’d lost.

With a killer to find and an entire group of people to protect while doing it, I couldn’t afford to be anything other than my best.