Dead Man (Black Magic Outlaw Book 1) by Domino Finn

It was possible the authorities would overlook it. Now, with an entire house in flames, they'd come rushing.
    I wasn't sure what people would find. Corpses. Martine. Giant spider bits. Hopefully it would all burn away. But there was one thing I could prevent them from finding for sure: me.
    I went down the path with the garbage cans and grimaced at the severed spider leg. At least it wasn't moving anymore. Using a plastic bag from the scattered trash pile, I hefted the leg and shoved it through the window. Somehow I managed that with my eyes closed.
    Fire spilled into the hallway and began erasing evidence that I was ever there. The flames seemed to steal my happy memories of the place, not to mention anything that might've been useful. My boot kicked the over-sized jar of dirt as I stepped away. I sighed, picked it up, and moved on. There was nothing else for me here.

 
     
    Chapter 15

     
     

    Of all the people I knew, Martine was the one that could've helped me. Watching her last moments of life only confirmed that. I bet she'd known exactly how I died, why I died, and what happened to my family. Assuming cooperation, a few minutes with her would've filled in all my blanks.

    I hadn't come away completely empty-handed though, and I'm not just talking about the jar of dirt I stashed on a side street and the enchanted cloth around my neck. I had information now. A nether creature named Asan was hunting me. An artifact called the Horn of Subjugation was involved. Naturally, the former would kill for the latter.
    At the same time, the death sight had introduced doubts. Asan was capable of murdering me and my family, but I'd figured those for Haitian jobs. I also doubted Martine's loyalty, once a solid partner, now a possible (and dead) traitor. Were the Bone Saints mixed up in their plot? I wondered if Asan was a Bone Saint himself, but Haiti was the New World. The pet anansi suggested Old World roots.
    Sure, my understanding of the situation wasn't a field of rolling flowers, but I wasn't lost in the woods anymore either. My info wasn't great but it was a starting point. And hey, I'd almost been dissolved and devoured over the course of several hours. Just being alive was cause for optimism.
    Still, I was left with few people to turn to. I couldn't trust anyone hooked into the magic scene, not anymore. And I couldn't risk the lives of my friends by being seen with them. But my absence hadn't prevented Martine's death. The mere threat of my turning up was enough to have her killed. What if my other friends were in a similar position? As long as I didn't carelessly lead anyone to their doorsteps, didn't I have an obligation to check on them?
    One name kept tumbling around my head, prompted by Milena's glittery ink: Evan Cross.
    Normally, I'd leave my best friend out of this. Spellcraft was not his cup of joe. But his position as a police officer could come in handy. If not for clutch assists, what were best friends for?
    I've known Evan Cross since elementary school. Back when I was normal, he likes to joke. There's truth to the humor. Back then, we were just kids. We played with action figures and went on bike rides. Kid stuff. Then Evan and I grew apart. He played sports. I played RPGs. He exercised, and I exercised my imagination. By the time high school rolled around, Evan was the quarterback of the football team and I was a full-blown animist. Go figure.
    It's amazing we remained friends through it all. True, he dislikes my craft, but he has a good heart. He ignores what he disagrees with and sees me as the same eight-year-old he used to BMX race with.
    After he returned to Miami with his criminology degree, Evan breezed through the police academy and aced his field training. I knew him as a rookie, but he was too smart for patrol. News of his promotion was no surprise. Head of a special task force? Well, maybe just a little bit.
    When the bus dropped me off in Downtown Miami, I checked my six. I couldn't shake the