It was amazing what a night of real sleep could do for you. Riordan couldn’t say he’d slept particularly well. He’d tossed and turned throughout the night, to the point that his pillows and half his blankets were on the floor when he woke, and his dreams were disturbed. He never woke fully through the night due to his sheer mental exhaustion, but he came close enough to be left with wisps of nightmares he wished he couldn’t remember at all.

 

When Riordan finally couldn’t sleep any more, no matter how unrested he still felt, he rolled over with a groan and blinked up at the white ceiling of the guest room. Moving and facing the day was intimidating and appalling, even if he knew he had to buck up and just get it done.

 

Daniel floated into view, watching Riordan curiously, his hands shoved in his pockets and body language relaxed. “Awake now?”

 

“No,” Riordan grumbled, eliciting an amused snort from the ghost.

 

“Norris stopped by earlier to check on you and probably stuff you with giant piles of breakfast food. He let you sleep when it became clear you were actually sleeping. He also picked up your pillows and blankets and tucked you back in again and that was just the cutest thing, even if you did kick them all off the bed again,” Daniel reported, the grin on his young face matching the upbeat tone of his voice.

 

Riordan wasn’t sure if it was an affectation, faking happiness until it became more real, but he appreciated it given how shitty he felt. It wasn’t fair how sick he felt when his body finally got a moment to relax after crisis mode. With shifter healing, it was almost all in his head, except for how it manifested in random aches and stomach upsets.

 

“What time is it?”

 

Daniel shrugged and glanced around before sticking his head through the wall leading to the hallway. “Clock out there says nine in the morning. That’s like ten or eleven hours of sleep, though it looked like you weren’t really sleeping for the first bit? You have this way of laying real still when your body is unoccupied, plus I saw that weird shadow gateway thing from your chest again at one point and you moved more afterwards. So it worked?”

 

Riordan pried himself off the mattress with another groan of discomfort. Some of the aches were likely actually from sleeping on a soft bed after so long. At least those pains would heal up. “Yeah, seemed to,” Riordan answered Daniel, “Any idea where I can find Vera? Or, hell, Norris or Mark or, what’s her name-- Lucinda. Not Frankie. I ain’t dealing with her this morning if I can help it.”

 

Daniel’s hands twitched in his pockets like he wanted to reach out and help Riordan up. Riordan appreciated the sentiment even if the ghost couldn’t follow through. Glancing back towards the door, Daniel shook his head. “Norris is the only one to stop by and that was hours ago. I try not to leave you alone too long, since you asked, so I don’t go far when I do poke about. There’s this cute bird nest under the eaves outside this room, by the way. You missed the bird couple being all lovey dovey before they went out for whatever it is birds do all day.”

 

That got a small laugh from Riordan and gave him the energy to get up for the day. With no one outside the room rushing him, he forced himself to take a moment to stretch, both to help his stiff muscles and to see if it helped his overtaxed mind. Daniel hung out and appeared to enjoy the view, switching to mimicking Riordan’s moves when Riordan shot him a look of mock disapproval. It was a little silly thing and all the more precious for it.

 

A new stack of clothes sat on top of his dresser, from Norris undoubtedly, and yesterday’s dirty outfit was gone. The clean clothes included the outfit he had arrived in, laundered and patched. It was only a black t-shirt and dark grey cargo pants, sturdy but nothing fancy. Still, Riordan ignored the other options in favor of his own clothes again, even if they were frayed and had stains no washing would remove. They were his.

 

He needed to hold onto as much of himself as he could right now.

 

His combat boots, likewise cleaned and in surprisingly good shape, sat by the door. Riordan grabbed them but didn’t bother putting them on inside the house. He carried them as he headed to the kitchen.

 

For once, no one was inside either the kitchen or dining area. A few covered dishes sat on the counter on warming pans, self-serve breakfast though Riordan had missed the rush. He piled eggs and bacon onto his plate before opting to eat inside this time. He could always leave if someone else came in.

 

Someone did enter the kitchen around the time Riordan finished eating, but it was Mark and Norris. Mark blinked at Riordan owlishly, clearly not fully awake yet, but Norris looked like he was brimming with verve and ready to face the day. As soon as Norris spotted Riordan at the table, the old man smiled broadly and greeted him, “Good morning, Riordan. Did you sleep well?”

 

“Not really,” Riordan answered honestly, partly in defiance of the need to be energetic himself, “but I did sleep. Frankie’s trick worked.”

 

Mark moved to join Riordan at the table, though he didn’t seem like he was fully aware of his presence. He sat staring straight ahead, as if the far wall was some great puzzle to solve. Norris stepped into the kitchen, fetching a cup of coffee and a plate of breakfast to deposit in front of Mark. The old man practically had to shove the fork into Mark’s hand, but then the young man began eating mechanically, sipping coffee between bites.

 

Riordan watched the interplay with amusement as he finished the last of his food and moved to rinse his dishes and put them in the dishwasher. As the coffee began to hit, Mark ate with more enthusiasm. At least, he seemed to realize he was eating instead of doing it incidentally.

 

As Norris joined him in the kitchen, Riordan commented, “Not a morning person, is he?”

 

Norris laughed before moving to check the breakfast buffet for anything that needed refilling. “No, the boy is not. It can be a problem since Frankie and Lucinda are both early risers and Mark would be nocturnal if he could. He’ll perk up with some coffee.”

 

“Do you think it would be alright if I gave the new information from the ghosts to him to take notes of then? Or should I try to wait for Vera to have time?” Riordan tried to sound casual as he asked, but it had annoyed him that no one had made time for it yesterday, even himself.

 

Looking a bit startled, Norris glanced back over at Mark. He seemed thoughtful for a moment as he replied, “Telling Mark would be good. He takes better notes than Vera, which will be useful for referencing details.”

 

That sounded good and Riordan moved to head towards the table before something else occurred to him and he paused. After Duane mentioned the Department of Magic people were coming, Riordan had been curious. He wasn’t sure Norris would answer him, but Riordan thought it probably still worth asking, even if only to see how he answered. “Did Vera reach out to the Department of Magic about the death mage? Are they sending help?”

 

Norris’ friendly expression dropped, leaving the wrinkled old man looking serious and severe. Riordan braced himself for a lie or deflection, but to his surprise, Norris nodded, saying, “Yes. They are sending an assessor familiar with death magic to look over the situation and an agent capable of legal investigations for the mundane side of things. They should be here tonight, though depending on when they get in, they might not come by until tomorrow morning.”

 

Intrigued, Riordan rocked back and asked, “Shifters?”

 

“Mages, probably,” Norris replied, “but they didn’t give too many details over the phone. We’ll see when they get here.”

 

The Sleeping Bear Pack might have more information on the Department of Magic and its agents than they were sharing with Riordan, but they were at least giving him enough to work with and to trust that things were in motion. Given how restless the whole situation made him, it helped to know professionals were on the way, even if they were federal agents and mages instead of soldier types.

 

By this point, Mark looked almost human and Riordan rejoined him at the table. The apprentice was more than willing to take notes, though he requested another cup of coffee and a few minutes for the first one to kick in. Mark also mentioned that he and Lucinda were going to be heading into town in the next couple hours to get some supplies and that Riordan was welcome to come along.

 

“Why?” Riordan asked, surprised at the invitation.

 

“To get more stuff for yourself,” Mark answered as if it was obvious, hugging his second cup of coffee and breathing in the coffee steam. “You own, like, nothing now, right?”

 

While that might be true, it made Riordan squirm, neither liking judgment nor charity. “Getting mugged and nearly murdered will do that. I don’t have any money to get new supplies with.”

 

Mark waved off this concern. “We’ll cover it. Treat it as a gift or payment or a loan, whatever. You need some things of your own, especially if you are going to help.”

 

Years of being taught rabid self-sufficiency argued otherwise, but Mark didn’t give Riordan a chance to argue back as the apprentice rose suddenly, wandered off, and returned with a notepad and pen. By the time he got back, Riordan was more than happy to just drop it and hope the offer got forgotten later.

 

It only took a touch of his pack bond with Duane to summon the man, who took in the scene and nodded approvingly. “Got someone to take you seriously then?”

 

“Yeah,” Riordan affirmed simply, “You and Daniel ready to help relay stuff so we have a record of all the victims? If you can manage it in mostly chronological order too, that would be great. If not, I’m sure they’ll sort it out later once they check for missing person reports.”

 

“Not a problem,” Duane stated. He looked at Daniel and made a jerk of his head, “Come help me gather folks and we’ll get them queued up to answer questions. Fortunately the most difficult ones are the oldest ghosts, so we’ll get them out of the way early.”

 

Daniel nodded. Both ghosts disappeared. Riordan turned back to Mark. “They are getting the rest of the victims ready to go. What are the pieces of information you’ll want most?”

 

Gone was the bleary zombie. Mark was all business now as he started making a template on his notepad. “Full name, last address, where and when they were attacked, a description of the attackers and their methods. Any details that might indicate why they were chosen, such as ethnicity, age, etc too.”

 

“Duane mentioned that he saw a history of domestic disturbances among the older ghosts, from full on domestic abuse to just relationship troubles, with some of their romantic partners helping the attackers.”

 

Mark froze at that, blinking as the information processed, and then continued writing. “Details on relationship history too then.”

 

A moment later, Duane reappeared next to Riordan. “Alright, first one is ready to go. What do you need?”