Chapter 4 Pendergast's POV

The crime scene tape hadn't come down yet at Halo's house. If it was his plan to still with me a little longer then I needed to get him some of his own clothes and other necessities. Unlike me, Halo didn't care much for name brands or expensive clothes; he insisted I drop him off outside the local Walmart. So I did just that, handing him a handful of fifties and ignoring his promise to pay me back while telling Proctor to park the Rolls. He was only gone for fifteen or so minutes before the door opened and he slid in next to me, setting two bags between his new shoes.

"Did you get everything you needed?" I asked him, tapping Proctor's shoulder to get him to drive back to Riverside.

"Yeah, just enough for three days." He said, leaning back in the leather seat. "Here's your change..."

He handed me a little over seventy dollars which I put back in my wallet. For the rest of the drive we both looked out the window silently, Halo having curled against the door while I folded my hands in my lap.

"Would you still like to call your grandmother?" I asked Halo.

He slipped out of his shoes and heavy winter coat. "Yeah, might as well get it over with..."

I led his to my study; he sat down in one of the many overstuffed chairs, curling into it like some large cat. I handed him the cordless phone and walked away to start a fire in the hearth, the room felt oddly cold to me, Constance must not have ventured into the room yet.

"Hey Grandpa," Halo said into the phone as I listened discretely. "Is Grandmother there? Yeah I'll wait."

I sat down on the carpet in front of the now roaring fire, I suppose I could have asked Halo to use his magic but I really hadn't thought of it before that moment.

"Grandmother, hi, what's up? No...Truthfully things aren't okay here... Grandmother I'm fine... Ryan? That's what I'm calling about... Ryan's dead Grandmother... He was..."

Halo started to sob and I quickly stood, pulling the phone from his shaking hand and pressing it to my ear. I slung my arm across his shoulders, pulling him tight to my side to stop his trembling.

"-Halo? Halo sweetie, speak to me." His grandmother was saying. "Halo?"

"Missus Spencer, this is Aloysius Pendergast, I'm Halo's friend."

"Mister Pendergast, the FBI agent?"

"Yes ma'am," Halo had grown up in a rural area of Washington State and though he'd never had an accent that I could hear, his grandmother did and I could here it clearly through her near hysterical tone.

"He said Ryan was dead! What's going on up there mister Pendergast? Is Halo hurt? Let me talk to him!" She demanded.

I looked at Halo as he tried to meld himself with me stomach. "I'm afraid he's...unable to talk now. Missus Spencer, I'm sorry to tell you that Ryan Elmasy was murdered yesterday and Halo...witnessed the last few moments of his life."

"Oh my lord," She exclaimed breathlessly. "Is Halo hurt? How is he, tell me please."

"He's very shaken up, understandably." Halo's arms wound even more tightly around my middle and I held him to me as best I could with one free hand.

"Let me speak to him, please."

I handed the phone to Halo, feeling him speak and nod against my stomach. A moment later, he hung up the phone, sliding both his arms around me.

"She'll be here in a week but she wants me to stay here..." He muttered.

"Very well, if you want to stay, you can."

"Yeah," He said. "I wanna stay."

"I want to cut my hair," Halo said.

For some he had followed me into the bathroom, wanting to watch while I shaved, he hadn't said why but I had a feeling it had to do with his blood; the Sidhe side of his lineage had left him with very little body hair.

I looked at his reflection in the mirror while I shaved with the straight razor my father had given me for my sixteenth birthday. Halo's dark hair fell to a little past his shoulders and some of the strands curled just under his jaw. I had never seen his hair any other way, never shorter and never longer. He had the same coloring as my late wife Helen and his long hair had always been a type of comfort when I felt myself crumbling under the weight of loneliness.

However, at the same time, Halo's want to cut his hair was an act of self-mutilation on a small scale. I sighed, sometimes it was best to indulge in the lesser evil just incase Halo decided to hurt or damage himself in some way.

"How short would you like to cut it?" I asked.

Halo pushed his fingers through his curls, and then took off his sunglasses to do it again more easily without catching on the earpieces. He usually never wore the sunglasses around me but he'd wanted to today.

"I don't know," He said finally, looking at me. "How about as short as yours?"

I looked in the mirror taking in the site of my close-cut white-blonde hair. I'd never let Halo cut his like mine. "I'll cut it for you if I can choose the length."

"Deal," He said.

I finished shaving, trying to ignore Halo's watching eyes. Then I realized he had never seen someone shave with a straight razor, I knew he and Ryan had both used those inaccurate safety razors. My heart grew heavy at the thought of Ryan Elmasy; dead only forty-eight hours and Halo seemed merely moodier than usual. It worried me, circumstances called for a different reaction but at the same time I knew everyone reacted to death and grief differently and Halo was no different. I was only bothered that he kept it all inside but then I remembered I had done exactly the same with my parent's and Helen's death.

I washed the excess shaving cream from my face, splashed on some aftershave and reached under the sink for a pair of scissors and a comb. I handed the comb to him. "Wet and brush your hair for me," I told him and he dunked his head under the faucet and turned it on, thoroughly drenching his hair.

Halo couldn't get all the knots out of his hair on his own so I grabbed the comb and proceeded to do the job myself. The act of touching another person's hair is a very intimate one, an act that usually only parents and lovers show each other. It didn't feel all that appropriate, given the situation, to be touching his hair. But he was silent the entire time, watching me in the mirror as the scissors trimmed away glossy black curls, leaving its final length a little under his jaw. It took a little over half an hour to get it to a style he liked; nice and neat but trimmed in such a way that it looked messy.

Halo dried his hair with a towel while I swept up all that I had cut off. "Thank you," He said. "I did know you knew how to cut hair."

I offered up a shrug. "It's not difficult to learn..."

"Uhuh," He looked in the mirror and frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh... nothing." He muttered. "I'm gonna go to bed now."

I looked up at the clock. "Halo, it's only seven-thirty and you haven't eaten yet."

He shrugged, tossed the towel in the clothes hamper. "I'm not hungry, just tired."

I sighed. "Very well, I'll take you to the guest room."

His hand hovered over the light switch. "Guest room?"

I nodded.

"Pend," He clutched my arm tight enough to hurt. "Let me sleep with you, please. I don't... I don't want to be alone so soon."

I pulled my arm free. "I don't think that's-"

"Please." His tone melted my heart to a small puddle at my feet.

"Very well."

While Halo slept curled up in my bed, I nursed a cup of green tea and waited for my friend, FBI Special Agent Mike Decker to answer his private phone. It took four or five rings before he finally picked up.

"Special Agent Michael Decker speaking."

"Good evening Mike," I said, smiling.

"Pendergast! How've you been you old dog?"

"I'm quite well, thank you, but I'm afraid this isn't a social call."

A moment of silence. "What's up?"

Straight to the point, I admired agents like him. "Do you recall an agent by the name of Halo Spencer?"

"The young guy that always wore Aviators?" He asked. "Yeah I remember him. Got busted for possession right?"

"Yes sir, that's him."

"Well, what's up with the kid?" He asked. Mike had been my superior a few years ago and when Halo had joined the Bureau, he had made us temporary partners.

"Yesterday his... housemate was murdered in a ritualistic fashion. Spencer has reason to believe it was done by someone you're familiar with."

Decker was silent. "A serial killer?" He finally asked.

"He believes so," I told him; turning the doll Halo had given me over in my hands. "We have reason to believe it was Trenton O'Malley."

The agent sucked in his breath sharply. "Shit."

"Yes," Though I wholly agreed with him I had rarely used vulgarity to express myself.

"Pendergast," He sighed. "I don't know what you want me to do. You know, given your history with Spencer, that I can't let you work this case. It's a conflict of interest."

"That's not what I'm asking for Mike. I simply want you to look into it. I think Spencer may have been the next, if not the original target."

"Shit. That bastard left behind one of those fucking dolls." It wasn't a question. The little hemp and burlap dolls were O'Malley's way of announcing that his victim had been 'special' to him.

"He did." I said. "We can't put Spencer under Federal watch, O'Malley would know if we did and, of course, Spencer would refuse."

"What are his plans?" Decker asked.

"He has family coming for him in a few days then he'll be leaving to the coast. After that, I don't know."

"Okay then Pendergast." Decker exhaled. "I'll look into this for you. Goodnight."

"Thank you sir and goodnight to you as well." I said but he had already hung up.

I drank another cup, said goodnight to Constance and went to my room. I stopped after closing my door, my eyes adjusting to the light and watching the dark haired lump barely visible in my bed. I licked my lips, feeling my body temperature spike as I neared that covered lump. I undressed as I went, letting my tie drop to the floor and then my shirt followed it.

"Oh Helen," I whispered, throwing my belt onto the steadily growing pile.

The lump didn't move even as I crawled onto the bed and then stretched out atop it. I pulled the duvet away slightly and, propping myself up on my hands and knees, I began to kiss the back of a very warm neck. I groaned softly, pressing my teeth down until I felt the skin yield to me. I smoothed the bite over with my lips and tongue but the shape of a person beneath me didn't move.

"Are you awake?" I asked gently.

I didn't receive an answer, not that I expected one. I nibbled on the lump's earlobe; still no response and it was starting to frustrate me. Helen had never shown me this much indifference before. I pulled the top sheet all the way down to the hips, exposing the honey-like skin tone of a completely bare back. Kissing and licking my way down the spine, I slipped into the bed completely until I felt my hips push against something firm but malleable.

"Helen," I whispered.

The form underneath me bucked backward and I pushed against the motion, letting my body absorb the mock-thrust. I chuckled, pushing my hips forward to get the form to buck me again. "Is that how you want to play dear?" I whispered.

"Mmmm," Was my only reply.

"Very well then dearest,"

I kissed, licked and bit along the expanse of bare skin, stopping just a t the base of the spine. I slipped back up the form, burying my face into the soft and supple skin of the neck, feeling the beat of the pulse. I attacked the pulse with my teeth, slipping my hands to the form's hips and pulling them back against me tightly. The form twisted, catching my mouth in a fevered kiss; I pulled it upright onto its knees to return that hungered kiss. I growled low in my throat as a small hand wound its way into my hair and cupped the back of my skull. I shoved my tongue into the very responsive mouth, sliding my hands down to slender hips and slowly edging off a pair of loose pajama pants. The pants nearly off, I suddenly felt a hardness that rivaled my own and I broke the savage kiss in surprise.

"What?" It wasn't Helen's supple body I was fondling or even her deep dark eyes looking into mine. It was Halo I was pressed so hungrily against, not my late wife and I abruptly realized his ulterior motive to sleeping in my bed. He wanted to bewitch me.

"Don't stop now," He begged, grabbing my hands and I jerked them away.

Halo snagged my hand again; placing it over the tip of his erection and making my fingers stroke him. "Please, Pend," He said.

"Stop Halo," I jerked my hand back and pushed him away from me, face-first onto the mattress.

"Yes...Pend..."

I moved away completely, getting off the bed and throwing on my discarded clothes in a fit of anger. Halo looked up at me, his three-ring colored eyes wide and wet with lust; the pajama pants I had been trying to edge of showed most of his pelvic bone and buttocks. The way he was sprawled out amidst the sheets called to my mind the hundreds of nights I had awakened with Helen. They were very much alike and I noticed it now as I had uncountable times before; the same hair color and texture, the same slight build although Helen had been taller. And the same year-long tan that boarded between soft copper and rich honey. The only difference, other than the obvious, was the structure of Halo's face; the more masculine lines beside the more androgynous features. However, try as he might, and as much as I wanted it to be, he was not Helen.

"Enough Halo, your spell isn't working." I said.

The lustful expression faded into blankness. "Pend?"

I shot him a look meant to freeze blood; he pulled his pajamas back in to order and then sat facing me. I crossed my arms over my chest in a threatening manner. "Care to explain yourself Halo?"

He shook his head, folding his hands in his lap.

"Halo," I began.

"Look, I'm sorry." He murmured and grabbing one of the sheets, he wrapped it around himself and ran out the door.

"Halo!"