Defensive Magic: A Paranormal Urban Fantasy Tale (Lost Library Book 3) by Kate Baray Page A

shudder.
    And in the moment that she realized she was more disturbed by the fact of the property not being the Pack’s than she was about the fact of the burials, she knew she’d permanently entered whackadoo land, otherwise known as the land of magic and mayhem. Her moral compass? Officially skewed.
     

Chapter 13
    J ohn shifted in his seat, and he could hear the plastic covering the leather interior crinkle. He should probably explain the whole burial thing. Bad enough that Lizzie probably thought he was a bully, possibly even a murderer. Although, over all of her varying emotions—shock, fear, anger—he could sense her profound relief blanketing and masking them.
    “It’s tradition to put the body of a deceased Lycan in the ground immediately. The theory is that you minimize the possibility that a loved one will return when you bury him or her quickly.” He contemplated how the Matyldas of the world might have played into the development of such a tradition. “Since we know ghosts are real now, it seems a lot less like superstitious BS than when I was a kid.”
    “But what if he’s found at some point?” Her eyes were wide.
    She smelled primarily of curiosity, surprisingly. Who knew all it would take to distract her from the events of today was a little body disposal conversation?
    “Not a problem. We’ll wait a respectful amount of time, long enough for any remaining energy, magic, soul—depending on your spiritual beliefs—to have detached from the body.” His tone lightened. “Then we dig him up and burn him.”
    She swallowed a gasp. “Seriously? No—” A small giggle escaped. Shifting in her seat, she said, “You’re kidding, right?”
    “No. Not kidding,” he clarified.
    Ben interrupted, looking askance at John. “It’s not nearly as gruesome as you’re thinking.” He hesitated, cleared his throat, and pushed on. “Ah, decomp is, uh, slower with Lycan, you know, corpses.”
    Lizzie blew out a small breath. “Thanks, Ben. You don’t want to know what I was envisioning.”
    “That’s okay—I can imagine.” Ben looked at John in the rearview mirror and clamped his mouth shut.
    John knew he really shouldn’t leave explanations of dead bodies and Lycan tradition to Ben. His only excuse was that he was drained, emotionally and physically. Turning to Lizzie, he said, “Outside of tradition, it’s not really an option for them to travel cross-country with a body in the car.”
    And that was the end of their discussion of bodies—thankfully. John shifted, trying to keep as much of his bulk on the plastic as possible. Ben loved this car and would definitely kick his ass later if he stained the leather interior with blood.
    On the rest of the ride home, John tried to decide if he owed Lizzie an apology—probably. And, if so, what exactly for—not trusting that she’d support him even when he was acting like a psychopath?
    By the time they’d arrived home, the sun was low in the sky and clouds had rolled in, lessening the oppressive heat. But plastic directly on his skin had produced sweat, which mingled with the blood he hadn’t been able to rinse off before getting in the car. He was a mess. Thankfully, his driveway and front door were well protected from prying eyes by tree cover and a little distance between neighboring houses. He looked down at the smeared remnants of blood. He couldn’t talk to her looking and feeling like this.
    Peeling himself out of the car, he rolled up the garbage bags that had protected the interior, thanked Ben, and followed Lizzie to the house. Ducking his head, he said, “I’m gonna hop in the shower. Be out in a minute.”
    By the time he joined Lizzie in the bedroom, he had gained some perspective—and put to bed what little unease he had over his actions today. His very necessary actions.
    She was unpacking clothes, his and hers, when he walked in from the bathroom. She sat on the bed and looked down. Her eyes were focused on her left hand. “The